Chapter XXXII

It was nearly eleven o’clock that night when Margaret had the car brought to the door and Luke’s suitcase deposited. Her intention was to drive the car to the lower part of Villiers Street and send the chauffeur with the suitcase to the cloakroom. She came into the south end of the Strand and the car had some difficulty in making its way through the returning theatre traffic, but after a long wait it turned down the steep street toward the Embankment, and at a signal from Margaret the chauffeur stopped the machine.

It was raining heavily; there were few pedestrians in sight, and those were hurrying to reach the shelter of the Underground station. She pulled at the catch of the door to open it, that the chauffeur might more easily take the suitcase at her feet, when, out of the shadows, came a shabby-looking figure. He must have seen her difficulty, for he turned the handle and pulled open the door before the chauffeur could descend.

“Thank you,” said Margaret, and handed him the piece of silver she had ready to pay the luggage-room attendant.

As she did so she switched on the light. For a second she stared into the unshaven face and the grimy figure.

“Luke!” she gasped.

He was stricken dumb with amazement, was unable to speak or move.

“Luke!” she said again.

Then, as he shrank back, her hand shot out and gripped him by the coat.

“Come in, for God’s sake!” she said breathlessly, and half dragged him to her side.

At that moment the chauffeur arrived.

“Drive on,” she said hurriedly. “This is a--a friend of mine.”

She only hoped that the man could not see the scarecrow who was seated at her side.

“Where shall I go, madam?”

“To--to the house,” she said.

As the chauffeur climbed back into his seat, a third figure appeared. He came running down the street like a man pursued, and gripping the handle of the door, leaped onto the running board as the car moved. She thought at first it was a policeman, but then a passing street lamp revealed the dark face of Gunner Haynes.

“Don’t make a fuss,” he said, as he blundered in, slamming the door behind him. “I’ve chased your car from the Haymarket. Who’s this?”

He peered forward and she heard him whistle.

“Is that Mr. Maddison?”

“Yes, it’s me,” said Luke, speaking for the first time.

His voice sounded pitiably weak. He had been turned out of the police station in the early part of the afternoon and had not eaten since the morning. He made no attempt to explain his need, he was too tired and weary to care very much. The soft luxury of the padded seats dulled him into lethargy: he was nodding almost before the car reached the Embankment.

“All right, don’t wake him,” said Gunner Haynes in a low voice. “He was arrested this morning, I’ve only just found out; one of my--friends told me. The police are looking for him. Somebody sent a wire to the Sparrow--I suspect it was friend Danty. Where are you taking him?”

“Home,” she said.

She was wrapping a rug about the chilled figure in the corner of the car.

“You’ll have a policeman waiting on the mat. No, you’ll take him to Elford. What’s this?”

He kicked against the suitcase and she explained, and heard him chuckle.

“You must be a thought reader. That’s the very thing he’ll require--not to-night perhaps, but in the morning. We’re going to Elford. Do you know it? It’s three quarters of an hour’s run, and if we’re lucky we’ll reach there before two of the biggest rats that ever climbed out of Thames mud.”

She leaned out of the window and gave directions to the chauffeur.

“Couldn’t we drive on to Dover and get on board the boat?” she asked urgently.

Gunner Haynes shook his head.

“No, that won’t work. The Sparrow’s a good fellow, but he’d shop his own mother. And if, as I believe, Mr. Morell, or whatever his present name is, has blown--has told the story of Taffanny’s--every boat will be watched. Besides, there isn’t one till daylight that we could possibly catch. There’s only one chance, and that is for Mr. Maddison to appear in Spain, where he is supposed to be. I think that can be worked--unless Mr. Danty Morell has got too far ahead of us.”

He peered forward again.

“You’ve got a fur coat on--that’s good. You can lend it to your husband. It’ll look rather silly, but nobody will see him.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’m going on an airplane ride to-night, and he’s going with me,” he said. “As for you, Mrs. Maddison, your work is very simple. You’ll return to London; you’ll lie a little--I hope it won’t hurt you very much--and leave for Spain to-morrow. If I can’t get him there after I’ve landed him in France, I’m a Dutchman.”

There was a silence, and then:

“I know a better way,” she said quietly. “I can go with him.”

To her surprise, the Gunner did not combat that suggestion.

“Perhaps you’re wise,” was his comment.

They came at last to a dark and bumpy road, and here the car was stopped by the Gunner’s instructions. He got down and pointed into the darkness.

“Pull your car over there and shut off all your lights,” he said, and when this was done and with great trouble the car had been manœuvred over the rough ground and the engine had been shut off, he came back to the girl. “We’re here first,” he said. “I’m banking on Danty being cautious--look!”

Lights were coming along the road from the direction of London. It was a car, which stopped a hundred yards away, and then after a while turned round.

“They’re walking the rest of the journey,” murmured the Gunner with grim satisfaction. “Wait here.”

He walked back to the entrance of the untidy little aërodrome and slipped something from his pocket. He had not long to wait: Danty and Connor turned out of the road again.

“Is that you, Higgins?” asked Danty. “Is the pilot here----?”

“Everybody’s here including me,” said the Gunner. “Don’t try any funny business, Connor; I’ve got you covered, and there’s a silencer on my gun. You’ll hear no more than a ‘plop’ and you’ll be in hell!”

Danty said nothing. Haynes could almost hear him shivering with fear.

“Well, what next?” asked Connor.

“The next is a long walk back to the nearest town, unless you’ve had the intelligence to keep your car. If you’re clever you’ll run--I’m afraid you haven’t a chance,” he added, as he saw the red tail light of the car moving rapidly away. “The police are controlling this aërodrome, and you’ve a snowflake’s chance of getting away.”

“You’re being a friendly little fellow and helping us: is that what you’re telling us to believe?” sneered Connor.

“Don’t talk--walk,” said the Gunner sternly. “I’m not in my best temper to-night. I’ve practically promised I wouldn’t kill you, but it won’t take a hell of a lot to make me change my mind.”

“All right, Gunner, we’ll go.” Danty found his quaking voice. “Come on, Connor. The Gunner wouldn’t put us in bad----”

“I found the letters, Danty,” said Haynes softly. “You know just how near you are to eternal rest, don’t you?”

Danty said nothing: he grabbed the arm of his reluctant friend and almost dragged him back to the roadway. They walked rapidly back the way they had come, and must have gone a hundred yards before Connor stopped.

“I’m not going to stand for this bird----” he began, when a voice behind him said: “Walk!” and he obeyed.

When he had seen them well on their way, the Gunner sped back to the car. Luke was awake; they were talking together in a low tone, he and this strange bride of his, and Gunner Haynes thought it delicate to leave them and interview the pilot.

He found the machine waiting, with two weary mechanics and an impatient pilot, and to the latter he gave new instructions. The other argument he employed was a very effective one, for the airman agreed cheerfully to all conditions.

“I can carry three or ten,” he said. “There’ll be no difficulty about getting up. I’ve done this night trip hundreds of times.”

Satisfied on this score, Gunner Haynes went back to the car and interrupted the more than usually intimate conversation.

“I’ve a little scrap of paper to give you when it’s light enough to read it, Mrs. Maddison. It concerns the death of your brother--I’m sorry to be so brutal, but I think you ought to know that the man who ruined him was Danty, and----”

“I guessed that,” she said quietly.

It was still drizzling and the clouds were low, but neither of the three passengers evinced the slightest anxiety as, with a roar of the engines, the big monoplane swept into the darkness, up and up, through the thick mist of clouds, until they emerged with the moon riding in a clear sky above them and billowing white clouds beneath.

Less than a week later, three people dined at the Café Ritz in Madrid, and the dinner was in the nature of a farewell banquet to Gunner Haynes, who was going to Naples to join the Australian mail boat.

“I shan’t be comfortable till I get on board the Barcelona express,” he said. “I’ve done many things in my life, but this is the first time I’ve played third to a honeymoon couple.”

THE END

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

This story was published as _The Gunner_ in the UK. The John Long, Ltd. (London, 1928) edition of _The Gunner_ was consulted for some of the changes listed below.

Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. motor-car/motor car, tea table/tea-table, etc.) have been preserved.

Alterations to the text:

Add ToC.

Fix a few quotation mark pairings.

[Chapter I]

Change (“He’s got a room here, _mumber_ 986) to _number_.

[Chapter II]

“That was her _bother_ who was talkin’ to another gentleman” to _brother_.

[Chapter III]

“for once Mr. Stiles’s _father_ interest in the business irritated him” to _fatherly_.

[Chapter XIII]

“_Mark_ hadn’t read the newspaper” to _Luke_.

[Chapter XXI]

“effort lifted the _unconsious_ Luke onto the chair” to _unconscious_.

“a look of alarm come into the _imperturable_ face” to _imperturbable_.

[Chapter XXII]

“the police know what I know re robbery at _Taffany’s_” to _Taffanny’s_.

[Chapter XXIV]

“It is a pity the _Sparow_ arrived when he did” to _Sparrow_.

[Chapter XXIX]

“who carried a notebook _obstensibly_ in his hand” to _ostensibly_.

“It was not a _monent_ to snap fingers in the face of fate” to _moment_.

[Chapter XXXI]

“You don’t imagine I would communicate with that _felow_” to _fellow_.

“make final preparations for their _jorney_” to _journey_.

[End of text]