The Corner House

by Fred M. White

"I am going to take this man with me," said Lalage as he rose. "He is known to you all, and you have marked him well. In his way he will betray us if he can. He will not go to the police, because they may ask awkward questions, and as like as not there is a warrant out for his arrest also. But he is a man of many ideas. If anything happens to me, repeat it to the Brotherhood at the headquarters. After that I would not give a week for the life of this Balmayne."

Balmayne nodded and turned. He knew only too well what that threat meant. So far as he could see there was no way out of it whatever. He had come to the end of his resources. If he could only get away from this!

"Goodnight, comrades," said Lalage. "I shall return presently. Come on, dog, follow at the heels of your master."

Lalage struck out boldly into the street followed by Balmayne. There was only one thing uppermost in his mind, one great project that filled his untutored brain. A great wrong had been done, and he was to right it by blood. There was no crime about this, it had been the custom of his race for centuries.

His own kin had been done to death, and he was going to avenge the murder. To this end he had caused Balmayne to be lured from his hiding place by those who knew how to bait the trap for the rascal. Once Balmayne was in his power he would be compelled to speak. And the night was very dark.

Balmayne slunk by the side of his companion. He longed to cry aloud that here was a man who had escaped from gaol, to have him bound hand and foot, and to feel that he was out of the way for the present. He wanted to go to the nearest policeman and tell him all this.

But then the police would want to know too much, and he did not feel that he himself was anything like out of the wood. Again, there was the Brotherhood. That it was no idle threat on the part of Lalage, Balmayne knew only too well. Once he betrayed the latter his life was not worth a week's purchase.

"Are we getting near the spot?" Lalage asked.

"We are getting very near now," Balmayne croaked.

They had come to a better part of the town. They paused at length before Lytton Avenue. The house of many festivities was dark and dismantled. There was no sign of life or movement there.