When Foster got up next morning he had made his plan, and spent ten
minutes explaining it to John. The old fellow understood his orders,
and although he listened with formal deference, the faint twinkle in
his eyes showed that he approved. After breakfast, Foster asked
Featherstone to come out on the terrace and while they walked about
indicated the line he thought it best to take.
Featherstone agreed, but expressed some misgivings. "There may be
danger in putting Daly on the track, and after all I'm only delaying a
crisis that must be faced."
"The longer it's delayed, the better; something may happen in the
meantime," Foster replied. "Then, you see, the track is false. When
the fellow finds you obstinate, he'll try to get hold of Lawrence,
particularly as he got money from him before; but as he believes
Lawrence is in England, he'll have some trouble. The advantage is that
he won't be able to bother you while all his time and energy's occupied
by following me."
"That is possible," said Featherstone. "But you may find it difficult
to get away from the rogue, since you must give him some kind of a
clew."
Foster laughed. "I don't mind the difficulty, sir. In fact, I
imagine, I'm going to enjoy the chase."
"There's a point that must be thought of. If he goes to the police
when he can't find Lawrence, it would be awkward. I should be no
better off than I am now."
"It's unlikely. So long as Daly sees the smallest chance of extorting
money he'll keep his secret. The reason's obvious."
"Well," said Featherstone, with feeling, "you are doing us a service we
can't repay. I frankly don't like the plan, because it can only work
at your expense, but it will give us time and I can think of nothing
else."
Foster left him with a feeling of pleasant excitement. He was doing
his host a favor and this was something, but the adventure appealed to
him for other reasons. He had, in Canada, found scope for his energy
in profitable work, but there was a reckless vein in him, and it was
exhilarating to feel that he could now follow his bent, without being
hampered by the necessity for making the undertaking pay. After all,
there was not much enjoyment in what one did for money, and he thought
he was going to get some amusement out of the game. Still, he did not
want to leave the Garth. Alice had treated him with a quiet
friendliness he valued and he began to hope he was making some progress
in her good opinion. It was, however, comforting to feel that he was
going to save her pain, and for the rest of the day he was conscious of
a cheerfulness he tried to hide in view of the anxiety the others had
to bear.
In the evening John put Lawrence's traveling bag under a small table
near the door in the hall and arranged the cloth so that it hung over
and covered part of the bag but did not hide it altogether. He took
some trouble, and when he was satisfied it looked as if the bag had
been carelessly placed where it would be out of sight but ready to be
picked up quickly if its owner meant to leave the house in a hurry.
Moreover, if anybody thought it worth while to look under the table,
the letters L.F. could be distinguished and Lawrence's name was
engraved upon the lock. Foster, having learned from the railway guide
when Daly would arrive, had arranged that he should be left alone for a
minute or two in the hall. If the fellow made good use of the time, so
much the better.
After putting on a gray waterproof, leggings, and strong boots, Foster
stood at the open door of his room until he heard Daly come in. There
was silence for the next minute, and then footsteps echoed along a
passage as the visitor was taken to the library, where Featherstone
would receive him, and Foster pulled out his watch. As there was no
town for some distance and Daly would not expect to be asked to stay,
he no doubt intended to return to the station across the moor, where he
could catch the last train. Allowing for the long drive, he could not
stop long at the Garth; but Foster must give Featherstone time enough.
The latter had a rather difficult part, because he must allow Daly to
state his terms, and not reject them until the last moment. He was too
honest and too proud to dissemble well, but he was not a fool and there
was much at stake.
At length, Foster stole quietly down the stairs, and smiled as he
remarked that the cloth on the small table had been pulled aside. This
had been done cautiously, but a fold that overhung the edge was not in
quite its former position. Then he picked up the bag and went out,
making noise enough to be heard in the library as he shut the hall
door. When he went down the steps he saw the lights of the car that
had brought Daly glimmer on the wet gravel of the drive. The back of
the car was next him, for it had been turned round ready to start.
Then Featherstone's car rolled up quietly, and Foster was getting in
when he stopped and felt his heart beat as a slender figure appeared on
the terrace. He turned, with his foot on the step, and waited until
Alice came up.
"I couldn't let you go without a last word of thanks," she said. "It
is splendid! We can't forget."
"I believe I'm going to have an amusing trip," Foster replied. "Then,
you see, the Garth is a remarkably nice place to come back to, and
there's the pleasure of looking forward to my return. But I'm
unselfish enough to hope I won't have that satisfaction all to myself."
Alice smiled, but there was something very friendly in her look and her
voice was unusually soft.
"You can always be sure of your welcome and we will miss you when you
are away. I very sincerely wish you good luck."
Foster was seldom theatrical, but felt the occasion justified his doing
something unusual. John, having already grasped the wheel, had his
back to them, and Foster took the girl's hand, which rested on the
rail, and kissed it. She made a little abrupt movement, and he thought
he saw a tinge of color in her face, but she did not look angry and he
felt a strange exultant thrill.
"Make as much noise as you can," he said to John.
The car backed across the rattling gravel, and the girl's figure faded
into the gloom; then John turned the wheel and they shot forward down
the drive. The lights of the other car vanished, there was a splash as
they swung into the wet road, and Foster pulled the rug around him when
he had struck a match and noted the time.
"You needn't hurry her too much," he said. "If I catch the train by
about a minute, it is all I want."
"Very good, sir. If I may remark, the other's a powerful car."
"I don't think they'll try to overtake us until we're near the
station," Foster answered with a laugh. "But we can't allow it then."
"No, sir," said John. "I quite understand."
They ran down the valley at a moderate speed, and Foster, looking
around when they came to a straight piece of road, was not surprised to
see a gleam of light in the distance. He lost it a few moments
afterwards, but it flashed out again every now and then, until they
plunged into a thick fir wood. They were about half-way to the
station, but the light had not got much nearer. He had, however, not
expected it to do so, because he thought Daly would be satisfied if he
kept his supposititious victim in sight. The danger would arise when
they got near the station, and whether they overcame it or not depended
on John's coolness and nerve. Foster thought the man would not fail
him.
It was a dark night and a damp haze thickened the gloom. Stone walls
and ragged thorn bushes leaped up in the glare of the lamps and faded,
but one could see nothing outside the bright beam. This was a
disadvantage, because Foster could not tell where he was and much
depended on his reaching the station with exactly the right time to
spare. He was rather anxious about it, since his plan would be spoiled
at the start if the train were late. By striking a match in the
shelter of the screen, he could see his watch, but it did not seem
prudent to distract John's attention often.
By and by the walls vanished and withered heath, glistening with damp,
rolled past the car. They were running through a peat moss, with a
deep ditch on one side, and climbing an incline, to judge by the heavy
throb of the engine. Shallow ruts, filled with water, ran on in the
blaze ahead and showers splashed about the wheels. Outside the bright
beam the darkness was impenetrable. Foster, however, was conscious of
a pleasant thrill. If one looked at the thing in one way, he was
plunging into trouble that might have been avoided; but he had been
prudent long enough and found a strange satisfaction in being rash.
Besides, no matter what difficulties he got into, he would be repaid by
the memory of the look Alice had given him. The way the warm color
crept into her face had stirred him as nothing else had done. Anyhow,
he had started on the adventure and was going to see it through.
After a time, they sped across a bridge, where a burn splashed noisily
down a ravine, and John asked: "How long have we got, sir?"
"Ten minutes, if the train's punctual."
"And where's the other car, sir?"
Foster, whose eyes were dazzled by the match he had struck, looked
round and saw a misty flash in the dark.
"About half a mile behind, I think."
"Very good, sir. It all depends upon the train now. She's not often
late."
The throb of the engine quickened and struck a sharper note, and Foster
felt the car leap forward up the hill. Turning in his seat, he watched
the flickering gleam behind and saw it grow fainter and then gradually
get bright. It looked as if the pursuers had lost sight of the front
car's tail lamp and were increasing their speed.
"They're creeping up," he said to John, who did not reply.
Foster thought they had now reached the top of the moor, and as they
swung up and down across the heathy undulations a streak of light
flashed out in the distance.
"That's the train," he said.
"Yes, sir. You can see her for two or three miles."
Then there was a change in the sound and motion, and Foster knew the
engine was running all-out. Showers of small stones and water flew up
about the wheels and the wind whipped his face, but the following light
was a little nearer when he looked behind. The other car had reached
the summit and it would be a close race, but he thought they could keep
their lead long enough. Then he looked ahead and saw that the bright
streak he had noticed had gone. The fireman had, no doubt, closed the
furnace door, but the lights from the carriage windows twinkled faintly
across the heath. He could not see the station, but it was obvious
that he had not much time to spare.
A few moments later they swept across a low rise and a faint blur of
buildings loomed among a cluster of lights. They were now going
furiously and he seized the side of the car as they swung round a
curve. He felt the near wheels sink as they crushed through spongy
sod, and the car tilted, but they got round, and there was a sudden jar
when the station lay some fifty yards ahead. Foster jumped out before
the car quite stopped.
"Round with her! I'm all right," he said.
"Very good, sir. If I might remark------"
Foster heard nothing more as he ran up the road, carrying the bag. The
train was very near; he could hear the roar it made in a shallow
cutting, but as he reached the station the sound ceased and the engine
rolled past. He took a ticket to Edinburgh, and hurrying across the
bridge, picked a compartment that had another occupant and stood at the
door, where he could see the steps he had come down. There was nobody
on the bridge and he seemed to be the only passenger, but a porter
began to drag some packages from the van and leisurely put them on a
truck. Foster quivered with impatience as he watched the fellow. If
he kept the train another minute, it might be too late. Then he
glanced back at the bridge. Nobody came down the steps yet, but the
porter had not finished, and one could still catch the train.
He crossed the floor to the opposite window, from which he could see
the booking office, but as he loosed the strap he felt a jerk. Then
the engine panted and the wheels began to turn. He ran back to the
other door, but there was only the porter on the platform and the lamps
were sliding past. Pulling up the window, he turned to the passenger
with a forced smile.
"Sorry if I disturbed you! The man I was looking for hasn't come."
In the meantime, John turned the car round and drove back to the bend.
The road was narrow, but there was room for two vehicles to pass,
provided that both kept well to the proper side. John, however, took
the middle and did not swerve much when a dazzling beam swept round the
curve. He blew his horn; there was an answering shriek from an
electric hooter, and then a savage shout. John, who was near the left
side now, but not so close as he ought to have been, freed the clutch
and used the brake, and the other car, missing him by an inch or two,
plunged into the wet grass across the road. As he stopped he saw the
boggy soil fly up and the lamps sink towards the ground. Jumping off,
he found the car had brought up in front of a wall, with the front
wheels buried to the axle. The driver and a very angry man in a soft
hat were getting out.
"You nearly wrecked us," said the latter. "What d'you mean by fooling
about the middle of the road like that?"
"I wasn't quite in the middle, sir. It's an awkward curve and your
lights dazzled me."
"Where's the man you brought?"
"I imagine he's caught the train, sir," John answered with
imperturbable calm.
He thought the other came near to knocking him down, for he clenched
his fist, but after a savage exclamation went back to the car.
"The engine won't move her. How are we going to get her out?" he said.
"I could give you a pull, sir," John replied with respectful gravity,
"They keep a rope at the station for shunting. Perhaps you had better
send the driver, sir."
X