Yours to the knife,
LUKE TARBOE.
He read the letter through, and coming to the words, "When you come back
here to play your part, you'll make it a success--the whole blessed
thing," he paused, reflecting . . . He wondered what Carnac would think
the words meant, and he felt it was bold, and, maybe, dangerous play; but
it was not more dangerous than facts he had dealt with often in the last
two years. He would let it stand, that phrase of the hidden meaning. He
did not post the letter yet.
Four days later he put on his wide-brimmed panama hat and went out into
the street leading to the centre of the city. There was trouble in the
river reaches between his men and those of Belloc-Grier, and he was
keeping an appointment with Belloc at Fabian Grier's office, where
several such meetings had taken place.
He had not gone far, however, when he saw a sprightly figure in
light-brown linen cutting into his street from a cross-road. He had not
seen that figure for months-scarcely since John Grier's death, and his
heart thumped in his breast. It was Junia. How would she greet him?
A moment later he met her. Raising his hat, he said: "Back to the
firing-line, Miss Shale! It'll make a big difference to every one
concerned.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194