Blows were already sounding on the rear door, but the lock was strong and resisted. Of all the persons he knew Janet Hosmer was the only one he could trust to keep her word. And he dare not wait until Weir could come.
“Is this you, Janet? Martinez talking,” he said, when he heard her answer. “Listen. I’m at my office; men 143 are trying to break in to get a paper valuable for Mr. Weir’s defense. They must not get it. He’s to be arrested and tried for murder of the man he killed. You and I know he’s innocent. This is a life and death matter. The paper is hidden in the old chair. The men are breaking down the door. I’ll get them away long enough for you to come and obtain it. Give it to Weir––at once, to-night, immediately. Promise me you will, promise! My own life probably hangs on it. Return to your house and stay for half an hour and if he hasn’t arrived by that time, go to the dam. Thank you, thank you––from my heart! Start now.”
The words had tumbled out in an agitated stream, occupying but a few seconds. The panels were splintering in the door now, as the ax smashed a way through. Martinez had no need to look up Weir’s number; and it was in a strain of terror and excitement that he waited for the connection.
“See Janet Hosmer at once,” he shot at the engineer, followed by the rest of the warning already quoted which had so electrifying an effect upon Steele Weir.
But the words had broken off abruptly. For as the door crashed off its hinges Martinez dropped the telephone receiver and darted for the front entrance, shooting back the bolt and flinging it open. He almost plunged into Vorse who was on guard there.
“Stand still,” the man ordered. And Martinez kept the spot as if congealed, for in the saloon-keeper’s hand was a revolver with an exceedingly large muzzle.
Burkhardt burst in, ax still in hand, eyes bloodshot with rage. Vorse turned and closed the front door. Then he glanced over the lawyer’s table and ran a hand into his inside coat pocket bulging with documents. He glanced through one or two.
“Here’s what we’re after,” said he. “We’ll take him to my place where we can quietly settle the matter.” His eyes rested on the Mexican with ominous meaning.
“Come along, you snake,” Burkhardt growled, seizing their prisoner’s arm. “Out the back way––and keep your mouth shut. Don’t try to make a break of any kind, if you know what’s best for you.”