She fought desperately and heard through the roaring in her ears Bill's snarl, coming as though from an immense distance away. Then the anaesthetic overpowered her; she felt her head growing lighter and lighter, and a numbness paralysing her limbs, and slid into unconsciousness. The man who held her had kicked the kitchen door to just in time to stop Bill's murderous rush. On the other side of it the dog was clawing frantically at the wooden panels, barking in a frenzy of rage.
The unknown man laid Shirley down roughly and forced a gag between her slack jaws and secured it with a scarf bound over her mouth. He drew a coil of thin rope from his pocket and quickly lashed her wrists and her ankles together. Then pulling her up, he flung her across his shoulder and went out with her, through the shadowed garden to the lane and up it, keeping close under the lee of the hedge until a closed car was reached.
He thrust his burden into the back of it, on the floor, and threw a rug over the girl, completely concealing her. A moment later he was, in the driving-seat and had switched on the lights. The car crept forward, gathering speed, reached the main road and swung round on to it.
In the cottage Bill turned from the unyielding door to the window and gathered his haunches under him for the spring. There was a smash, the tinkle of broken glass, and a big bull-terrier, his white coat flecked with blood, put his nose once to the ground, sniffing, and was off, following the scent of a man he meant to pull down.
Chapter Seventeen
The Bentley swept into Upper Nettlefold and drew up at the Boar's Head. Miss Brown, the porter informed Amberley, had not yet come in. He was about to leave the place when he paused and said briefly that he wished to telephone. The porter led him to the box and left him there. Mr. Amberley opened the tclephone book and swiftly found the number he sought. In three minutes he was speaking to the hall-porter of a certain London club.
Yes, Mr. Fountain had been in the club that afternoon, but he had left shortly before tea-time. No, the hallporter could not say where he was going, but he would no doubt be found later at the Gaiety Theatre. He had reserved a seat there for Mr. Fountain over the telephone.
Amberley thanked the man and rang off. He strode uut again to his car, beside which he found an indignant constable who proposed to take his name and address for dangerous driving in the town.
Amberley got into the car and started the engine. "Get gut of the way," he said. "No doubt I shall see you later. I can't stop to chat with you now."
The constable jumped back just in time as the car shot forward. He was left standing speechless on the curbstone and had only just enough presence of mind to jot down the Bentley's number.