MURK IS TEMPTED
The next thing that impressed itself upon Murk's consciousness was the
fact that he had a terrific pain in the back of his head. Many times
during his career Murk had experienced similar pains. And he knew that
the best thing to do was to remain quiet for a short time, keep his eyes
closed, and gradually pull himself together.
So he pretended that he had not regained consciousness. He knew that he
had been stretched upon a bed or couch of some sort, and that his wrists
were lashed together, and his ankles. He was not gagged, however.
Gradually the pain ceased, Murk's senses cleared and he became aware of
what was going on around him. He could hear whispered voices, but could
not distinguish words and sentences; neither could he tell whether the
voices were those of men or women.
Finally Murk opened his eyes.
He found that he was in a small room furnished in quite an ordinary
manner. He was stretched on an old-fashioned sofa. There were a few
chairs scattered about, and a cupboard in one corner. In the middle of
the room was an ordinary table covered with a red cloth. Upon the table
a kerosene lamp was burning.
Murk groaned and made an attempt to sit up, but fell back again because
of a fit of dizziness. It became evident that his groan had been heard
in the room adjoining, for the door, which had been ajar, now was thrown
open wide, and two men entered.
Murk knew them instantly; they were the men who had attacked Sidney
Prale in the Park.
"Back to earth, are you?" one of them snarled. "If I had my way, you'd
have been cracked on the head for good."
Murk snarled in reply, despite the fact that he was bound and at the
mercy of these men.
"Sore because I smashed your face!" Murk said.
"That'll be about all out of you! I may take a smash at you yet!"
"You've got a good chance while my hands and feet are tied," Murk
replied. "It's the only time you could get away with it, all right! Turn
me loose and I can clean up the two of you!"
"You're not doin' any cleanin' for the present," he was told.
Murk began wondering at the object of the assault upon him. He could
feel the roll of bills Prale had given him bulging his vest pocket, so
he guessed robbery was not the motive. He managed to sit up on the sofa
now, and he glared at the two thugs before him with right good will.
One of the men went back into the adjoining room, and the other remained
standing before Murk, sneering at him, his hands opening and closing as
if he would take Murk's throat in them and choke the life out of Sidney
Prale's valet and comrade in arms.
Then the man who had left the room returned, and there was another with
him. Murk looked at this stranger with sudden interest. He was well
dressed, Murk could see, but he wore an ulster that had the wide collar
turned up around his neck, and he had a mask on his face--a home-made
mask that was nothing more than a handkerchief with eye slits cut in it.
"Afraid to show yourself, are you?" Murk sneered. "Who are you--the
chief thug?"
The masked man pulled a chair up before the sofa and sat down. His eyes
glittered at Murk through the slits in the handkerchief.
"You are not going to be harmed, my man--if you are reasonable," he
said.
"Reasonable about what?" Murk demanded.
"We want some information and we think you can give it to us; that is
all."
"I don't know much," said Murk.
"Tell us why you were prowling around that house near the Park."
"Maybe I was takin' a walk," Murk answered.
"And maybe you were spying, as I happen to know you were. We assume that
Sidney Prale sent you to watch the comings and goings of a certain young
woman and her friends."
"Go right ahead assumin'."
"It will avail you nothing, my man, to adopt this attitude," Murk was
told. "And it might help you a great deal if you are willing to listen
to reason."
"I'm listenin'," Murk replied.
"You haven't been working for Sidney Prale very long, have you?"
"Only a few days--since you seem to know all about it, anyway. Why ask
foolish questions?"
"Very well. We understand that Prale kept you from committing suicide
and then gave you a job. There is no reason why you should feel an
overwhelming gratitude for Prale. He merely got a valet cheap."
"What about it?" Murk growled.
"Sidney Prale has a million dollars, but you'll never see much of it. He
isn't the sort of man to toss his money away. And there are others, not
particularly Prale's friends, who have many millions between them."
"Well, that ain't doin' me much good."
"But it may do you a lot of good. We want information and we stand ready
to pay for it."
"I guess you'll have to do a little explainin'," Murk told him. "I never
was any good at guessin' riddles. Life's too short to be spent workin'
out silly puzzles."
"Very well," the masked man said. "As you perhaps are aware, Prale has
certain enemies. That is enough for you to know, if he has not told you
more. If you can give me information concerning Sidney Prale's plans,
and tell us how much he knows, we will pay you handsomely."
"I getcha," Murk said.
"And if you can manage to continue working for Prale, and let us know
everything as it comes up, there'll be considerably more in it for you."
"Want me to do the spy act, do you?"
"Call it whatever you like. There is a chance for you to earn some good
money."
"How much?" Murk demanded.
"That depends upon the services you render us. But let me assure you
that you will be richly rewarded. We will not fool you or defraud you."
"What do you want to know?"
"What is Jim Farland, the detective, doing? What has he reported to
Prale?"
"He ain't reported much of anything," said Murk.
"We want to know what Prale thinks about the situation. Tell us all you
know concerning the Rufus Shepley murder case. Has Sidney Prale said
anything you have been able to hear about the enemies who are bothering
him? You understand what we want to know--everything possible about
Prale's plans. And we want you to watch henceforth, and keep us informed
in a way I shall explain to you."
"Well, explain it!" said Murk.
"Scarcely, until we know that you are our man. Try to think of things
now, and tell us. Be sure you let us have everything. What you deem
unimportant may be really important to us."
"I'd feel a lot more friendly to you gents if you'd untie me," said
Murk. "I can't talk business when I'm treated like a prisoner, or
somethin' like that."
"You'll be untied as soon as we feel sure of you, and not before," Murk
was told. "We are not taking chances with you. Are you going to work for
us?"
"I'm not sure that the proposition looks good to me," Murk said. "I make
a deal with a man whose face I can't see, and do the dirty work--and
then maybe you turn me down cold and don't give me a cent, and I lose my
job with Mr. Prale and get in a nice fix. Don't you suppose I got some
common sense?"
"Make the deal with us, and you shall have five hundred dollars in cash
before you leave this room," the masked man promised. "And, take my word
for it, you'll be rewarded richly if you serve us well."
"Well, I don't know much about this business," Murk said. "You know I
ain't been with Mr. Prale very long. All I know is that he's got some
enemies who are tryin' to get the best of him. He says he ain't guilty
of that murder charge, and I happen to know he ain't, because he was
with me when Shepley was killed."
"Maybe you both had a hand in the killing," the masked man said. "And if
you don't come to terms with us, you may find yourself in jail charged
with being an accessory."
"You can't bluff me, and you can't threaten me and get away with it!"
Murk cried.
"Softly--softly!" said the masked man. "I was merely showing you where
you stand."
"Well, don't start talkin' to me that way, if you want to do business
with me. If I'm goin' to work for you, I've got to know what's what.
Who's got it in for Mr. Prale, and why? That's what I want to know. And
what is it you're tryin' to do to him? How can I help if I ain't wise?"
"Some of the wealthiest and most influential men in the city are against
Sidney Prale. They are determined to run him away from this, his old
home town. They are going to strip him of his fortune if they can. They
are going to grind him down until he is nothing better than a tramp."
"Well, why are they goin' to do all this?"
"It is not necessary for you to know at present. Perhaps you will learn
that from Sidney Prale, if you keep your ears and eyes open. All we want
you to do is to watch and listen and make frequent reports to us. You'll
have to be loyal to us, of course. If you are not, we shall punish you."
"But what did Mr. Prale ever do to get such a bunch down on him?" Murk
demanded.
"You'll find that out in time--maybe."
"I guess I'd better know right now."
"It is not necessary. Besides, we are not sure of you yet, please
remember."
"How could you ever be sure of me?" Murk cried. "If I threw down Mr.
Prale, wouldn't I be liable to throw you down, if somebody happened
along and raised the price? Why, you simp, I wouldn't turn against Mr.
Prale for a million dollars! He's treated me decent, and he was the
first man who ever did that! I was just stringin' you, you fool! Mr.
Prale himself don't know why your gang is causin' him trouble, and I was
tryin' to pump you and find out!"
"So he has told you that he doesn't know why he has enemies?"
"He has--and he told the truth. There's something phony about that
murder case; somebody's tryin' to frame him. And when Jim Farland gets
through, somebody is goin' to jail!"
"So you will not work for us?"
"You're right; I won't. Maybe I don't amount to much, but I'm mighty
square compared to some people I know about."
"And what do you suppose is going to become of you, if you refuse to do
as I say?"
"I guess I'll manage to struggle along," Murk said.
"We'll see about that!" the masked man replied, getting up from the
chair. "Perhaps a night spent in your present position, without food or
water, will cause you to change your mind. If it does not, there are
other methods that can be used."
"Goin' to pull rough stuff, are you?" Murk sneered. "Go as far as you
like! You can manhandle me, but you can't make me turn against Sidney
Prale. That's a golden little thought for to-day, as the preacher says."