Up went the elevator. It stopped at the ninth floor. Carpenter had given that number. He started to walk forth, but stopped as he saw the old man move forward. Carpenter gave Twambley the right of way.
Along the hall they went, Carpenter strolling in the wake of the benign old man. Phineas Twambley unlocked the door of 928 and entered a darkened room.
Carpenter watched him. He saw the old man turn on the light. He realized that Twambley was alone!
Carpenter’s room was 930, adjoining 928. He entered and went to a desk in the corner. There, from the back of the drawer, Carpenter produced a stub-nosed revolver and made sure that it was loaded. He looked from the window — toward the board walk, with its gleaming lights — to the Club Catalina, beyond.
He was ready now to meet Big Tom Bagshawe!
But as he turned toward the door, Herbert Carpenter hesitated. Acting upon a sudden thought, he extinguished the light and stood in darkness. He reflected upon his present situation.
He was an escaped convict, going to meet a man who had doubled-crossed him. Danger lay ahead.
What if he should fail? Suppose Big Tom might manage to stall? What then?
Alone, a fugitive from justice, with funds virtually exhausted, what could he do? Nothing. Crime, the alternative? He did not want it, yet why should he avoid it?
Prison yawned if he should be recognized. Why not take another chance — an easier way? Gain funds by bloodless crime; be able to provide his family with the money that was needed; then attack his four enemies from ambush!