HAL IN A TIGHT SITUATION.
Before Dick Ferris could say a word or move, Macklin clapped his hand over the tall boy's mouth.
"Hush!" he muttered. "I'll fix it all right."
A square table stood in one corner of the room, and under it was a quantity of old bagging.
Macklin seized hold of Hal's body and dragged it toward the table.
Then he shoved the motionless form under the piece of furniture and covered it with the loose bagging.
The key to the door lay on the floor, and picking it up, Macklin inserted it in the lock and gave it a turn.
In a second the door was opened and a stout and harsh-looking woman appeared.
It was Tommy Macklin's wife.
She was a heavy drinker, but she was not a really bad woman at heart.
Had she been as unscrupulous as Macklin himself, the tough would never have pursued the course he did.
Before the woman could enter the room he met her and cut her short.
"I want you to go upstairs," he said, taking the market basket she carried from her.
She looked surprised.
"What for?"
"There was a sneak-thief around, and I want you to see if Mary lost anything."
"A thief? Did he get——"
"No, I didn't give him the chance."
The woman at once turned and went up the flight of stairs leading to the top floor. She had not seen Ferris, and the tall boy breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to listen to what Macklin had to say.
"We've got a good chance ter git him out o' der way."
"Out of the way?" whispered Ferris.
"Dat's wot I said."
"You don't mean——"
Ferris stopped short.
"Yes, I do. You say he's an enemy ter you an' Hardwick?"
"He is that."
"Den I'd git him outer der way."
Ferris' lip twitched.
"What would you do with him?"
"I'll show yer." Macklin scratched his matted hair. "Give me dat potato bag in der closet."
Ferris hesitated, and then, opening the closet in the corner, brought forth an unusually long potato sack.
Raising up the top part of Hal's body, Macklin slipped the sack over head and shoulders. Then he tied the string of the sack fast around Hal's waist.
The tough opened the door and passed out into the hall way.
No one was in sight. Macklin returned to the room.
"Quick, catch him by der legs," he said to Ferris. "I'll take him by der shoulders, an' we'll have him outer sight in a jiffy."
"Where—where will you take him?" faltered Ferris. His teeth were chattering, and his face was as pale as death.
"I'll show yer. Catch hold."
Macklin's tones were angry ones, and Ferris complied. With the body of Hal between them, the pair passed down one flight of stairs, and then to a narrow stairway in the rear leading to a dirty wash-shed.
"Wait here wid him till I come back," said Macklin, and he darted out of the wash-shed door.
Ferris stood beside Hal's body. Presently he thought he heard a low moan, and he imagined that Hal moved one arm. His teeth chattered worse than ever, and it was all he could do to keep from rushing away.
At length, after what seemed to be an age, but which was really less than five minutes, Macklin reappeared.
"We've got der boss chance!" he exclaimed, in a low tone. "Chuck dat piece of rag carpet over him. Dat's it. Now pick him up ag'in."
Once more the two took up Hal's body. Their course was now through the court and into a narrow lane. Here the snow was piled high, but neither seemed to mind it.
"Here we are."
It was Macklin who spoke. He stood at the basement door of an old stone structure which in years gone by had been a vinegar and pickle factory. Pushing open the door, he motioned to Ferris, and Hal's body was taken inside and the door once more closed.
"Wait till I strike a light," said Macklin.
"What is this place?" asked Ferris.
"It's a factory wot ain't in use," was the reply. "His body won't be found here for two or t'ree months, if da finds it at all."
Macklin struck a match and lit a bit of dirty tallow candle which he carried.
"See dat big hole in der floor over dare?" he asked.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Sum kind of a vat, I t'ink. Dat's der place. Hold der glim, will yer?"
Ferris took the candle. His hand shook so that the tallow dropped all over it.
"Wot's der matter wid yer nerves?" asked Macklin, sarcastically.
"Nothing," returned the tall boy, briefly.
"Yer shakin' like a leaf."
"I am cold."
And for once Ferris told the truth. An icy chill seemed to have struck his heart.
Catching hold of Hal's body, Macklin dragged it to the edge of the vat. There was a slight scraping sound as the body was pushed over the edge of the hole, and then all became quiet.
"Dat settles it," said Macklin. "Come on back."
And Hal was left to his fate.