Hoffman, she might go into a fit of hysterics, or might give the alarm. It would be easy to dispose of her. Since, therefore, there was nothing to fear, the two confederates thought it best to face the enemy at once and put him _hors de combat._
Thereupon Marlowe opened the door at once, and, to his dismay, found himself confronted by four stalwart policemen.
"The game's up, Jack!" he shouted. "Save yourself!"
He made a spring, eluding the grasp of the officers, and plunged downstairs at a breakneck rate. Meanwhile Jack had snapped a pistol at one of the policemen, but it missed fire. By a return shot he was wounded in the shoulder, and his right arm hung useless. He broke into a volley of execrations.
"Do you surrender?" demanded the officer, at whom he had fired.
"I must," said Jack, in a surly tone. "You're four to one."
Only one policeman had followed Marlowe downstairs. Circumstances favored the escape of this, the more dangerous villain of the two. At the foot of the basement stairs was a door, and on the outside was a bolt. This Marlowe had noticed on going up, and the knowledge stood him in good stead. He got downstairs sufficiently in advance of the policeman to bolt the door and so obstruct his progress. This gave him time, and time was all-important to him. While the officer was kicking at the door and trying to burst it open, as he finally did, Marlowe dashed through the kitchen and got out at the open window. Then he had to scale the wall; but this was easy to do on the inside, for there was a narrow ledge midway. In less than a minute he was on the pavement outside, and fleeing from the danger under cover of the darkness.
When he had got far enough to dare to slacken his pace time also came for thought, and he was able to consider how it happened that four officers were concealed in the house. There was but one possible explanation.
"It was that cursed boy!" he muttered, grinding his teeth in a fierce rage. "He betrayed us. He upset the likeliest plan I've joined in for years. He shall suffer for it, curse it! Before I go to sleep this night I'll give him a lesson. He won't need but one."
His soul thirsting for revenge, he hurried back to the miserable room in which Julius was confined. He had no doubt of finding him, for he was satisfied the boy could not get out.
Meanwhile Jack Morgan was compelled, by superior force, to surrender at discretion. The blood was trickling from the wound in his shoulder, and on the whole, he looked the burglar to perfection. While they were slipping on the handcuffs the officer who had pursued Marlowe returned and reported that he had escaped.
"Bully for him!" said Jack. "He's smart, Marlowe is!"
"So his name is Marlowe, is it?"
"You knew it before," said Jack, in a surly tone. "Who told you about our coming here to-night?"
"Never mind!" said the officer. "It was our business to find out, and we found out."
"I know well enough who blabbed," growled Jack. "Curse him! I'd like to strangle him."
"I don't know whom you suspect, my man," said the officer; "but I think it'll be some time before you'll have a chance to carry out your benevolent purpose."
"Perhaps it will," returned Jack; "but Marlowe ain't took yet. He'll attend to the business for both of us;" and there wis a look of malignant joy on his face as he thought of the sure retribution that would overtake Julius.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE VALUE OF A CLOTHES-LINE.
When Julius found himself alone and understood that his companions had actually started on their illegal expedition, he felt that there was pressing need of action. He must escape by some means. While the prospect was that they would be captured, and so prevented from returning, on the other hand, one or both might escape, and in that case he knew enough of their savage and brutal character to realize that he would be in the greatest danger. He rose from his bed, and began to devise ways and means of escape.
The first and most obvious outlet, of course, was the door. But this was locked, and the key was in Marlowe's possession. Then there was the solitary window. It was on the third floor, and looked out into a court. It was too high to jump from, and the only other way was by a rope, but there was no rope in the room. Had there been a bedstead of the right kind, the bedcord would have served his purpose, but there was no bedstead at all. With a democratic contempt for such a luxury, all three slept on the floor. The prospect was not encouraging.
"I wonder if I could hang out of the window?" thought Julius.
He looked out, and decided that he would run the risk of breaking a limb if he attempted it. So that plan had to be given up.
Julius sat down and reflected. It occurred to him that perhaps Mrs.
O'Connor's key (she roomed just beneath) would open the door. At any rate it was worth trying.
He stamped on the floor with such force that, as he expected, it attracted the attention of those beneath. Listening intently, he heard the woman ascending the staircase. He began to jump up and down with renewed vigor.
"What's the matter wid ye?" called Mrs. O'Connor through the keyhole.
"Are you drunk?"
"I'm sick," returned Julius.
"Is it the jumpin' toothache ye have?" asked the Irish woman.
"I'm awful sick. I don't know what it is."
"Open the door, and I'll come in."
"I can't. The door's locked, and Jack has gone away."
Here Julius began to groan again.
"Poor bye!" said the compassionate woman. "What will I do for ye?"
"Try the door with your key. Perhaps it will open it."
"I'll do that same."
She drew out a key, and tried to put it in the lock, but to no purpose. It would not fit.
"I can't open it," she said.
This was a severe disappointment to Julius, who saw his chances of success fade away one by one.
"Have you got a clothes-line, Mrs. O'Connor?" he asked, suddenly.
"Yes," said the good woman, rather astonished, with a vague idea that Julius expected to cure himself by means of it. "And what for do you want it?"
"If you will go down to the court and throw it up to me, I'll get out of the window."
"And what good will that do you?"
"I will go for the doctor."
"I'll go meself, and save you the trouble."
"But he can't get through the keyhole."
"Thrue for you. Wait a bit, and I'll do it."
Mrs. O'Connor descended, and, obtaining from her room a well-worn clothes-line, went below, and, after two or three futile attempts, succeeded in throwing it up so that Julius could seize it.