But Eva insisted on seeing Locke at once and the old hag lied volubly. He had been here, and had stepped out for a moment. No, she did not know where—to get a cigar, maybe. Would the pretty lady hear her fortune told while she waited?
As there was apparently nothing that she could do until Locke returned, Eva sat at the card-table while Old Meg droned her old fortune-telling rigamarole.
In spite of her growing fear and agitation Eva became interested. There was something calming in the monotonous voice of the old crone.
"When the queen of spades comes between the jack of hearts and the king of diamonds and the—a—the—"
A door directly behind Eva silently and slowly opened. Stealthily a boy's head was thrust out. On the young face was a world of deadly hatred. As the sputtering candle burned brighter for a moment, startlingly, a vague change was noticeable in the lineaments of the features.
It was the same gamin who had given the sleeping boy money. But now, in the candle-light, with only the head showing, it was no boy who glared malevolently at Eva, but a woman—and that woman was the implacable Zita!
The head disappeared to give place to the visages of two horrible-looking men, the same brutes who were present when Balcom had spread the net of his conspiracy.
"When the jack of clubs," droned the witch, "and the—"
With barely a sound the two thugs entered the room behind Eva. In the hand of one was an old gunny sack.
"—and the queen of hearts—"