A man’s figure rose from the shadows of the porch and came forward to meet us as we swung up to the curbing. I stifled a scream in my throat. As I shrank back into the seat I heard the quick intake of Von Gerhard’s breath as he leaned forward to peer into the darkness. A sick dread came upon me.
“Sa-a-ay, girl,” drawled the man’s voice, with a familiar little cackling laugh in it, “sa-a-ay, girl, the policeman on th’ beat’s got me spotted for a suspicious character. I been hoofin’ it up an’ down this block like a distracted mamma waitin’ for her daughter t’ come home from a boat ride.”
“Blackie! It’s only you!”
“Thanks, flatterer,” simpered Blackie, coming to the edge of the walk as I stepped from the automobile. “Was you expectin’ the landlady?”
“I don’t know just whom I expected. I—I’m nervous, I think, and you startled me. Dr. Von Gerhard was taken back for a moment, weren’t you, Doctor?”
Von Gerhard laughed ruefully. “Frankly, yes. It is not early. And visitors at this hour—”
“What in the world is it, Blackie?” I put in. “Don’t tell me that Norberg has been seized with one of his fiendish inspirations at this time of night.”
Blackie struck a match and held it for an instant so that the flare of it illuminated his face as he lighted his cigarette. There was no laughter in the deep-set black eyes.
“What is it Blackie?” I asked again. The horror of what Von Gerhard had told me made the prospect of any lesser trial a welcome relief.
“I got t’ talk to you for a minute. P’raps Von Gerhard ’d better hear it, too. I telephoned you an hour ago. Tried to get you out to the bay. Waited here ever since. Got a parlor, or somethin’, where a guy can talk?”