183
When at last he felt that the lads had been given time enough to reach their destination, he turned the car round at a crossroad and came back, driving slowly. This time he turned in between the stone gate posts that marked the entrance. The bluestone road bed wound like a huge snake through wooded acres, and half a mile from the highway, entered a grove2 of tall elms that belted broad lawns landscaped with flower gardens and shrubs3. The immense grey stone house looked much more like a public institution than a private dwelling4.
Mr. Davis parked his car before a wide stone terrace. He walked sedately5 up the steps and rang the doorbell. While he waited he studied the beautiful outer door, intricately fashioned of wrought6 iron and glass. He could not see into the house, for a curtain was drawn8 close to the glass on the inside.
The door noiselessly opened, and framed in the ornate entrance stood a middle-aged9 man in evening dress. His left arm was held close to his body by a black silk sling10.
“Ashton Sanborn!”
Mr. Davis peered closely at the man, who now looked as if he would willingly have bitten off his tongue for the ejaculation. But a moment later the recognition was mutual11.
184
The secret service man smiled. “Blessed if it isn’t my friend Serge Kolinski! Fancy meeting you here, and without your mustache—no wonder I hardly recognized you!” Mr. Davis advanced with outstretched hand, while the Pole backed away.
While Sanborn stared at him, the man glanced furtively12 over his shoulder into the gloom of the spacious13 hall. He seemed to be in the grip of some overwhelming fear. Then, wetting his dry lips with the tip of his tongue, he turned to the detective.
“Mr. Sanborn—I—you must clear out of here—get away!” His speech now bore no trace of the foreign accent which the girls had mentioned. “You’ve always played the white man to me, Mr. Sanborn—never tried to frame me, or—But clear out, sir—do you hear?”
Sanborn laughed shortly. “I thought you knew me better than that, Kolinski.”
185
“Look here, Mr. Sanborn—don’t say I haven’t warned you—don’t say I’ve done you dirt!” Kolinski’s whisper was almost inaudible.
Mr. Davis frowned uneasily. The man’s fear was so genuine, his manner so agitated14, that the detective felt a creepy feeling touch his spine15. He shuddered16 involuntarily, then pulled himself together.
“I’d like to speak to Professor Fanely, Kolinski—”
“Don’t do it, Mr. Sanborn, don’t do it—you—”
“Show Mr. Ashton Sanborn into the library, Kolinski!”
The high-pitched, wheezing17 voice was cold and toneless, yet held an undercurrent of evil. Kolinski shivered, then placed a trembling forefinger18 on his lips.
“Y-y-yessir.”
“Then go to your room. I’ll attend to you later. You talk too much.”
186
Ashton Sanborn followed the thoroughly19 frightened Kolinski across the wide hall and into the library. It was empty, but a bright fire blazed on the hearth20 at the other end of the room. Shades were drawn over the windows. The room felt stuffy21, and oppressively warm. Kolinski retired22 without a word. The unseen master’s voice had apparently23 withered24 his power of speech.
Sanborn stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing about the room, waiting for Professor Fanely to appear. The four walls were lined to the ceiling with books, and the place was austerely25 furnished. Sanborn felt uneasy, not only in Kolinski’s behalf, but somehow obscurely, in his own. There was something sinister26 in the very atmosphere. The wheezing voice and its unspoken menace echoed in his brain....
187
Five minutes passed. He wondered if Bill and Osceola were outside the windows, or whether they had been waylaid28 in the grounds by Fanely’s men. He took out his watch and looked at it. The five minutes extended to ten.
Ashton Sanborn began to fret29 at the delay. But the thought that this discourtesy was probably intentional30 somewhat curbed31 his impatience32. He sat down in an armchair and pulled out his pipe and tobacco. If Professor Fanely chose to ignore his visit, then old Fanely would have to put up with breach33 of etiquette34 on his part. He was just on the point of lighting35 it, when a gentle, cultured voice spoke27 immediately behind him.
“That’s right, Mr. Sanborn. Make yourself at home!”
Ashton Sanborn swung round in his chair. Standing36 not three feet away, exuding37 goodwill38 with a benign39 smile, and rubbing his hands together, was the biggest man the detective had ever seen. Sanborn was startled, not so much at the man’s presence, but that he had not heard him enter the room. It seemed uncanny that such a huge man could move so quietly. The secret service man jumped to his feet.
188
“Good evening! I called to see Professor Fanely. My card, apparently, is not needed.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Sanborn. We—er—have heard of you, although, speaking for myself, I have never, to my knowledge, had the pleasure of seeing you before.” The big fellow stared down on Sanborn from his superior height. “Professor Fanely is not at home, Mr. Sanborn.”
“Out?”
“Ah! I’m afraid I express myself rather badly. I mean to convey to you that Professor Fanely is indisposed.”
“But I thought I heard him speak in the hall a moment ago?”
189
“Oh, no. No, that was certainly not Professor Fanely. Oh, dear me, no.” He laughed—an unpleasant sound, for all its softness. “That was Mr.—but his name does not matter. He is upstairs now, attending to Mr. Kolinski, our estimable butler. You must not place too much reliance on our Kolinski’s chatter40, you know. He does not always tell the truth. In fact, to put it bluntly, Mr. Sanborn, Mr. Kolinski is not—er—unfamiliar with the inside of a jail!”
“I know that well enough. I’ve been instrumental in sending him up the river twice, myself.”
“Oh, dear me! Fancy that, now!”
There came a silence, during which Sanborn had the vaguely41 uncomfortable feeling that a third presence had somehow entered the room. Mechanically he lit his pipe, and, blowing the first mouthful of smoke upward, he carelessly subjected the ceiling to a covert42 scrutiny43. Nothing doing. He stooped and tapped the bowl of his pipe on an ashtray44 which rested on a small table. No one on the left hand side of the room. He turned round quickly, ostensibly to adjust a cushion on his easy chair. A flutter of a curtain hanging near the door caught his eye. Then he seated himself and leaned back comfortably.
190
“Yes,” he answered the big man’s unspoken inquiry45. “That is why I called—to warn you against Kolinski. But as you are already aware of his past delinquencies—well,—” he shrugged46 his shoulders and stood up. “This is beside the point, now, don’t you think? Perhaps you had better ring for the man so that I may place him under arrest.”
“They’ll never bring him in here!”
Bill Bolton swung the curtain back and stepped into the room, a revolver grasped in his gloved right hand. “Stick ’em up, Lambert,” he told the big man. “That’s right—stick ’em up and keep ’em up!”
“But Bill—” Sanborn began, his eyes on the man called Lambert who had complied with the curt7 order and was reaching toward the ceiling.
191
Bill shook his head impatiently. “No time for argument, sir. They are on to your visit and don’t intend to let you leave the house alive. Kolinski is their sacrifice in this deal. He’s probably been killed by this time.”
“Are you sure about this, Bill? How could you possibly learn—”
“We’ve got to hustle,” Bill cut him short. “Explain later. Oh, I’m sure enough, never fear!”
A colored rope was attached to the curtain. He disengaged it and tossed it to Sanborn.
“Now you—” he indicated Lambert, “take a walk to that chair and sit down.”
There was a murderous gleam in Lambert’s eyes as he retreated. He knew, of course, that these two were acting47 in conjunction, but could not understand these new secret service methods.
“Now tie him up. I’ll keep him covered. He’s got a gun. Better relieve him of it. His game was to shoot you just as soon as your back was safely turned.”
192
Ashton Sanborn did as he was told, cheerfully, albeit48 wonderingly. How Bill could have gained his information and what he was up to now were as yet unsolved mysteries. He took away the man’s gun, a blue-nosed automatic. Then, carefully, he tied Lambert’s arms to the back of the chair and roped his legs securely.
“Better lock the door,” was Bill’s next suggestion. “I’ll gag him.”
The detective hurried to the door. There was no key in the lock. He clutched the handle—rattled it—pulled—The door did not budge49.
“What’s up, sir?” Bill’s voice betrayed his apprehension50.
“Locked!”
“Then we’re in for it.” It was not so much the words as the way they were spoken that impressed the secret service man.
“But—if it’s trouble, Bill, we must find a way out,” he said calmly.
193
“There is no way. They’re likely to come in on us through that door any minute now.” Bill’s voice was steady, but Sanborn knew he was attempting to conceal51 his strong excitement.
“If the door’s locked on the outside, we’d better barricade52 it on the inside.” He looked round the room for a suitable means of fortification, and his eyes fell upon the huge Lambert.
The man’s face was pale, almost haggard, and beads53 of sweat stood out upon his forehead. He was afraid.
In spite of their potential danger, Sanborn smiled as the thought struck him. “Here, Bill, give me a hand.”
Young Bolton immediately saw the possibility. Together the pair dragged the mutely protesting Lambert to the door, and planted him firmly in his chair against the panels. Over two hundred-weight of solid humanity—an effective barrier.
“Now then, Bill. Where’s Osceola?”
194
“Outside the window. Or he was.” Bill’s voice was little more than a whisper. “We got here more than ten minutes before you drove up—legged it fast across the grounds, without running into a soul. The windows on this side of the house are too high to see into from the ground. Luckily Osceola spied a ladder leaning against an elm, on the way here, where some tree surgeon had left it, I guess. Anyway, it was just what we wanted, so we hiked over and toted it back. I climbed it and cut a hole in the glass just above the window-catch. I couldn’t see into the room because of the shade, but I could hear, all right. That big goop over there was talking with Professor Fanely. And by the way, there’s absolutely no doubt that old Fanely is the guy we’re after. His voice is the one I heard in the cupola. Osceola recognized it, too. Of course, when I got the piece of glass out of the window, they were in the midst of a conversation. I gathered that you’d been followed to New York today. Evidently they knew nothing about your conference, but the cabinet member was spotted54 going into the same office where you had been trailed. So, the old bird had figured out just about what did happen in New York. Take it from me, there are no flies on that old fellow! He guessed how you would be sure that he, Fanely, was the kidnapper55 from Deborah’s description, and how the lad from Washington would laugh at the idea. He even had the hunch56 that you would show up tonight! And while they were talking, Kolinski came in and said that a phone message had come through from the lodge57, and that you were on the way up.”
195
“But I wonder how they guessed my identity?”
“Your car license—Kolinski said so. Those things seem to be working for both sides in this business. Kolinski, the poor chap, was scared to death, apparently. The old man had it in for him because he made the initial mistake of dropping that silver cartwheel out of his car, and making it possible for the girls to identify him. But he was only in the room a couple of minutes. When he’d gone, the Professor said that as soon as you came they’d go upstairs. They planned that after Kolinski had ushered58 you in here, they’d put him out of the way. And the next move was for Lambert to come down here and do the same for you. Of course, old Fanely thought you’d come armed, so he cautioned the big guy to watch his step. If it hadn’t been for that,—well, I guess I’d have been too late.” Bill bit his lip. “I don’t see how the old buzzard imagined he could avoid government suspicion by doing you in, as well as Kolinski—Well, that’s about all of it. When you rang the bell, they went out of here, so I unfastened the window catch and hopped59 in.”
196
“Good work, Bill. You’re the sort of a chap a man needs on a job like this—”
Bill grinned and shook his head. “I’m all right as far as I go, but I guess—“ he motioned toward the barricaded60 door—“I just didn’t go far enough. But Osceola’s outside somewhere, I thought he’d better stay on watch. So maybe—”
197
There was a knock on the door. They looked at each other and waited.
“Well, Lambert? Is the dear Mister Ashton Sanborn, alias61 Davis—er—non compos—I mean hors de combat?” A pause. “So, my dear Lambert, you have failed, eh?” A fierce menace in the words now.
The bound man’s face turned a sickly gray, and Sanborn felt a momentary62 pity for him. Then they heard whispered instructions outside the door, and the sound of running feet. Sanborn tried a bluff63.
“Hi! you!—there’s a posse of police surrounding the house!”
A cackling laugh that ended in a snarl64.
“Yes, I saw him go!”
198
“So he got away all right? Thanks very much. He should be back by this time, with about thirty others.” Sanborn listened intently in an effort to ascertain65 whether or not his shot had gone home. Then—“They are only awaiting my signal.”
“Then why not signal, my dear Sanborn?”
A second later a shot rang out. Simultaneously66 a round hole, splintered at the edges, appeared in the upper panel of the door, and a bullet whistled past the detective and buried itself in the opposite wall. The hole in the panel was about two inches above Lambert’s head, and with protruding67 eyes the wretched man endeavored to shrink into the chair.
Bill and Sanborn dropped to all fours and were making for the window, when a second shot was fired. This time it came from outside the house and shattered the lower window sash. Both the detective and young Bolton went flat on the floor. Sanborn beckoned68 to Bill to move closer. As the lad wriggled69 over the carpet toward him, the older man spoke to him in a low whisper.
199
“Sorry I got you into this. When they rush the place, start firing. We may be able to fight our way out—one of us, anyway.”
“Maybe—but—too bad we’re a good four miles from town. If Osceola got away to telephone the police, it’s going to be a near thing before they get here. But all I want is to get one shot at old Fanely!”
As if in reply to his name, the high, wheezing voice spoke again from beyond the door. “You gentlemen in there,” and they heard a horrible chuckle70, “will be interested to know that your friend Chief Osceola ran foul71 of my men, after all. He is now taking a well-earned rest in the lodge. Good night, my dear gentlemen. Pleasant dreams, and may you awake—in heaven!”
As if to place a period on this unanswered monologue72, another shot splintered through the door panels.
点击
收听单词发音
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1
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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3
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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4
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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5
sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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6
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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7
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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8
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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9
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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10
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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11
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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13
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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14
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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15
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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16
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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17
wheezing
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 )；哮鸣 | |
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18
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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19
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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20
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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21
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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22
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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24
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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25
austerely
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| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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27
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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28
waylaid
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| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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30
intentional
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| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
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curbed
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| v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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exuding
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的现在分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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40
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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41
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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42
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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43
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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44
ashtray
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| n.烟灰缸 | |
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45
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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46
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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47
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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48
albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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49
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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50
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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51
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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52
barricade
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| n.路障，栅栏，障碍；vt.设路障挡住 | |
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53
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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54
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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55
kidnapper
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| n.绑架者，拐骗者 | |
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56
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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57
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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58
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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60
barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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61
alias
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| n.化名；别名；adv.又名 | |
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62
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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63
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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64
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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65
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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66
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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67
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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68
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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70
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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71
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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72
monologue
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| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
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