It was four o'clock in the afternoon when Foster stopped in front of
the grimy building where Graham had his office, and looked up and down
the street. Close by, a carter stood at the head of an impatient horse
that stamped and rattled its harness, and a hoist clanked as a bale of
goods went up to a top story; but except for this the street was quiet
Farther off, one or two moving figures showed indistinctly, for rain
was falling and the light getting dim. Foster, who had arrived in
Newcastle that morning, had waited, thinking it might suit him better
to leave the town in the dark.
"Go back to the end of the street, where you can see the clock," he
said to Pete. "If I don't join you in half an hour, run to the nearest
police station and ask for a man to search the top office in this
building."
"The polis are no' good friends o' mine," Pete replied doubtfully. "I
would sooner come for ye my lane. There's an airnmonger's roon' the
corner, where I would maybe get a shairp gairden fork."
Foster laughed. Pete's methods were too primitive, although, in his
strong hands, the fork would prove a dangerous weapon.
"I don't expect you'd be able to help much if I'm not back when I said.
But you can walk along the street now and then, and notice anybody who
leaves the building."
He went in and set his lips as he climbed the stairs, for he imagined
he would need all the tact and coolness he possessed. He had been made
the tool of people who thought him an unsuspecting simpleton, but was
uncertain how far it would be safe to trade upon this view of his
character, although he meant to do so to some extent. There might be
an advantage in hinting that he knew a little about their business; but
he must make no mistakes. His steps echoed hollowly along the top
landing and there was something daunting in the gloom, for the gas had
not yet been lighted and the building was very quiet. It was possible
that he had started on this adventure with a rashness as great as his
folly in undertaking Carmen's errand, but he carried Alice
Featherstone's glove and it was unthinkable that he should turn back.
There was nobody in the outer office when he opened the door, but after
he had knocked once or twice a voice he recognized told him to come in
and he strolled carelessly into Graham's room. Sitting down, he
offered his cigarette case to Graham, who glanced at him with some
surprise but took a cigarette while Foster lighted another. It would
be easier to look languidly indifferent if he could smoke. Graham
pushed aside some papers on his desk as if impatient at being
disturbed. He was dressed and looked like a sober business man, and
Foster admitted that it was ridiculous to imagine him to be anything
else.
"I'm rather busy just now," he said. "For all that, if I can be of any
use to you, Mr. ----"
Foster thought he overdid it by pretending to forget his name, but he
smiled.
"Foster. You'll recollect I brought you a packet, and as I'm going
back to Canada soon, I imagined I might take Miss Austin or Daly a
reply. You can see that they thought me a reliable messenger."
"Miss Austin obviously did so," Graham admitted.
"Doesn't this imply that Daly shared her good opinion?" Foster asked.
Graham glanced at him sharply and then picked up a letter and studied
it, but Foster imagined he wanted time to think. He had made the
plunge and indicated that he knew more than the other supposed; but the
rest needed care.
"You expect to meet Daly when you get back to Canada?" Graham inquired,
and Foster, who saw that he was cautious, wondered whether he was
alarmed.
"Oh, no; I expect to meet him before I start."
"You imply that he's in England."
"Don't you know he is?" Foster rejoined.
Graham knocked the ash off his cigarette and looked at him curiously.
His appearance was commonplace, he had a slight stoop, and was not
muscular, but Foster felt he might prove dangerous.
"I don't know where he is just now. Do you?"
"Well," said Foster, "I believe I could find him if I tried."
The other was silent for the next few moments and Foster waited with
some anxiety. If he pretended to know too much, he might be found out,
but if Graham imagined he knew nothing, he would hesitate about
informing him. The difficulty was that while he played the part of a
simpleton who had been made use of by the rest of the gang, he must
imply that they had to some extent taken him into their confidence.
"To tell the truth, I haven't heard from Daly for a month," Graham
replied. "This has disadvantages and I'll own that I'd like to know
what he is doing."
"Then it looks as if I was better informed. Mr. Daly's engaged in some
private business."
"Private business?"
"Just so," Foster answered, smiling. "He imagines it will turn out
profitable, but I expect it will take up much of his time."
"But----" said Graham, and stopped.
Foster made a sign of comprehension. "You feel he oughtn't to have any
business that might interfere with his duty to the rest of you?"
"What do you know about his duty?" Graham asked.
"Well," said Foster, "I frankly don't know very much. In fact, it
looks as if your Canadian friends didn't trust me very far, but just
told me enough to make me understand my job. No doubt, that was
wisest, although it's not flattering. Anyhow, I brought you a packet
with some valuable enclosures, which ought to justify your sending back
any confidential message to the people it came from by me."
He had made a bold venture, but saw that he was right, for Graham
knitted his brows, as if he was thinking hard. Then he said, "Very
well. As it happens, there are some papers I would like to send, and
if you don't mind taking them, I'll give you a letter to Daly and
another to Miss Austin."
"Miss Austin, of course, will pass the letter on."
"That's understood," Graham agreed.
Foster carelessly lighted a fresh cigarette, and Graham, leaning
forward, opened a safe and took out one or two papers that Foster could
not see well. So far, the latter had done better than he had hoped,
and in another few minutes would be in the possession of papers that
might throw a useful light upon the plot. Yet the strain was beginning
to tell and his nerves tingled as he watched his companion write.
A lamp with a broken mantle flickered above Graham's head and the stove
crackled, but the outer office, the door of which was open, was dark,
and the building was strangely quiet. No sound rose from the narrow
street below, which ran like a still backwater among the tall
warehouses. Foster, putting his hand in his pocket as if to feel for
matches, touched the small Browning pistol he had brought. He was not
afraid of Graham, but somebody might come in. At length the man sealed
two envelopes and put them beside his writing-pad.
"If you cannot find Daly, you must bring the first back to me. When do
you sail?"
"I don't know yet; I haven't looked up the steamship companies'
notices," Foster answered, and as soon as he had spoken saw that he had
made a mistake.
He had led Graham to believe he was going at once; indeed, this was his
excuse for offering to take a message, but he remembered that in order
to get a good room on a fast boat it was necessary to book one's
passage some time in advance. He thought Graham had marked the slip,
although his face was expressionless.
"I don't want the letters carried about for long," he said.
"Certainly not," Foster agreed. "If I'm delayed, or can't get hold of
Daly as soon as I thought, I'll bring them back. However, I've kept
you from your business and must get off."
Graham did not move, and the letters were out of Foster's reach.
"You have got your instructions from Gascoyne and know what to do if
you have any trouble on your journey?"
Foster felt embarrassed. He did not know if Gascoyne was the man he
had gone to in Edinburgh, and durst not risk a fresh mistake. Besides,
it was possible that there was not such a person among the other's
friends and the question was a trap.
"No," he said boldly. "I can get all the instructions that are needful
when I meet Daly. Give me the letters."
"I think not. It would be better to wait until we hear what Gascoyne
has to say, since you haven't seen him as I thought. He may have
something to send with the other documents. Suppose you come back
about this time to-morrow."
Foster feared he was found out, and imagined that if he agreed, he
would find the office closed and Graham gone; unless perhaps the fellow
waited for him with one or two of his accomplices. Foster was certain
he had accomplices. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he
carried Alice Featherstone's glove and meant to get the letters.
"No," he said. "I'm willing to do you a favor, particularly as I want
something to show my friends in Canada that I brought the packet safe.
But I'm not going to put myself to much inconvenience. You have
written the letters. Let me have them; I must catch my train."
He put his hand on the Browning pistol and was glad to feel it there,
though he hardly thought he would be forced to draw it. He was
physically stronger than Graham, but it had come to a trial of nerve
and he knew he had a cunning antagonist. Besides, he could not tell
how much longer they would be left alone and he might be in serious
danger if somebody else came in. Still, he must not look anxious and
quietly fixed his eyes on Graham's face.
"I can't take the risk," the latter declared. "Will you wait until I
see if I can get Gascoyne on the telephone?"
The telephone was in the other office and Foster durst not let the man
out of his sight.
"I've been here long enough and have just time to get to the station."
There was silence for a few moments and Foster felt his heart beat. He
meant to finish the interview as it had begun, without doing anything
unusual, but if this was impossible, he had another plan. His muscles
were stiffened ready for a spring; he would pin the fellow to his desk
while he seized the letters. Though he meant to look calm, his face
got very grim; but Graham carelessly pushed the letters towards him.
"Very well! You will take the responsibility if there's any trouble."
"I will," said Foster, as coolly as he could, and picked up the
envelopes. "Sorry if I've detained you. Good afternoon."
He was half afraid to turn his back to the other, but there was no
avoiding this and he heard no suspicious movement until he reached the
door. Then, as he expected, the telephone bell rang, and Foster,
running down the steps, drew a breath of relief when he reached the
street. It was now dark, but he felt comforted as he saw Pete's tall
figure in the gloom.
"Look behind you now and then and tell me if anybody follows us," he
said, and knowing that Pete's eyes could be trusted, carefully reviewed
the situation when they turned into a busy street.
It was obvious that the conclusions he had come to by the peat-stack
were correct, and the police, who were obviously watching him, thought
he might know something about the Hulton tragedy. If so, his movements
had not been calculated to allay their suspicions. He had now papers
that were probably dangerous in his pocket, and it he were caught
before he got rid of them, it would be difficult to prove his
innocence. The safe line would be to make for the nearest police
station and give up the documents. So long as he kept them, he had as
much to fear from the police as from Daly's gang. But he did not mean
to give them up just yet.
His duty to the State was plain, but he was frankly determined to save
his comrade first, and imagined that he could do so, although the thing
would be difficult. For all that, Daly must be forced to keep
Lawrence's secret. Then he had, to some extent, discredited Daly with
his accomplice by informing Graham that he was engaged upon some
profitable private business. It looked as if Graham did not know what
the fellow's object was; after all, the gang might not trust each other
very far. The trouble was that Daly might not be easily found, and in
the meantime Foster had two dangers to guard against; but he meant to
be careful, and to tell the police all he knew as soon as he had dealt
with Daly.
Nothing indicated that they were followed on their way to the Central
Station, where Foster left Pete outside and ascertained that a train
would shortly start for Carlisle. He would have liked to travel by it,
since he expected to find Daly near the western Border. Besides, it
was prudent to leave Newcastle as soon as he could, since his injured
hand made him easily distinguishable and Graham had run to the
telephone. The latter would not have let him take the papers without a
struggle had he not some plan of getting them back. Foster did not
know how many accomplices Graham had, but imagined he had to deal with
a well-organized gang, who would find it much easier to watch the
railway than the lonely moors between it and the Cheviots. Making his
way through a crowd on a busy platform, he left the station by another
door, where he met Pete, whom he had sent round. It was possible that
these precautions were needless, but he did not mean to take any risk
he could avoid.
"Where will ye be for the noo?" Pete asked.
"The head of Liddesdale, to begin with. But I don't know yet if we'll
go west by the old military road, or across the moors. It will depend
upon whether the fellow I went to see gets upon my track."
Pete's eyes twinkled. "It will be a clever man who tracks us when we
tak' the heather. But have ye the papers ye went tae steal?"
"I have. If they're what I think and I can keep them safe until I use
them, they're worth twenty pounds to you."
"Aweel," said Pete, "I'll feel mair sure o' the money when we win oot
o' the toon. It's ower full o' polls, and my talents are no' o' much
use here."
They had left the station and reaching a street where Foster made some
inquiries, waited in the door of an office building until a tram-car
came up. Getting in, they were carried through the wet and smoky
streets towards the city's western outskirts.