THE WORRIED MAN
IN the dull light of an underground room, a man was seated, hunched on a wooden bench. He was smoking a cigarette, and the stone floor about him was studded with many butts that he had thrown away.
The man was nervous, and he appeared to be anxiously awaiting the arrival of another person. There was a reason for the hunted expression that the man betrayed.
He was wanted by the police. He was Homer Briggs, the servant whom Silas Harshaw had dismissed.
The door rattled. Homer’s nervous fingers sought the handle of a revolver. He let the weapon slide back into his pocket as he recognized the man who entered the room.
The newcomer was a shrewd-looking, middle-aged man. His arrival eased Homer’s worry.
“What’s doing, Farley?” Homer asked.
“They’ve got a line on Max Parker,” replied Farley, with a gruff laugh. “How do you like that?”
“You don’t think they’ll trace him here?”
Farley stared contemptuously at the man on the bench. It was plain that he did not share Homer’s trepidation.