Five,
ten, fifteen minutes passed, then half an hour and finally an hour. At
the end of that time, however, a figure emerged from the trees about
the house and walked hastily toward the road; the eyes of the watcher
glistened, his fine teeth shone in an appreciative smile.
Reaching the road where the car had stopped, the newcomer, who was
young, well-dressed and rather good-looking, suddenly paused, stooped
and lifted something from the ground. He held in his hands the work
gloves of Miss Vale, which she had dropped after taking them off. For
a moment the young man stood looking at them as though hesitating what
to do; then he turned, went to the roadside and placed them carefully
upon the top rail of the fence. Then trudging along on his way, he
unsuspectingly passed beneath the maple which concealed the man with
the glass.
When he was out of sight, the Italian slipped down the tree and ran
lightly along the road to the place where the gloves lay. He took up
one and looked within; but it was empty. However, in the thumb of the
next was a slip of paper which bore a single line of writing:
"Tobin Rangnow."
Studying this for a moment, the Italian made a copy of it. Then he
slipped it back into the thumb of the glove and replaced both exactly
as they were; after which he made his way back to the motor cycle, and
mounting, went flying toward the city.
Pages:
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219