As he came near that smothered glow-worm of a street-lamp it assumed
for him the betraying glare of a huge spot-light. But it had to be
passed to gain the skiff; and with collar turned up and hat-brim
pulled down and head hunched low, he entered the dim sphere of
betrayal, walked under its penny's-worth of flame, and glided toward
the shadows beyond, his eyes straining with the preternatural keenness
of the hunted at every stoop and doorway before him.
He was just passing out of the sphere of mist-light--the lamp being
now at his back helped him--when he saw three vague figures lurking
half a dozen paces ahead of him. His brain registered these vague
figures with the instantaneity of a snapshot camera at full noon. They
were mere shadows; but the farther of the three seemed to be Barney
Palmer--he was not sure; but of the identity of the other two there
was no doubt: "Little Mick" and "Lefty Ed," both members high in the
councils of the Ginger Bucks, and either of whose services as a killer
could be purchased for a hundred dollars or a paper of cocaine,
depending upon which at the moment there was felt the greater need.
In the very instant that he saw, Larry doubled about and ran at full
speed back up the street. Two shots rang out; Larry could not tell
whether they were fired by Little Mick or Lefty Ed or Barney Palmer--
that is, if the third man really were Barney.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113