He was governed momentarily by indecision. His eyes gazed quickly across the street. For an instant he seemed hesitant; then, glancing at the gloomy passage into the warehouse, he entered, following the course which Rodney Paget had taken.
Had Harry’s vision penetrated the darkened windows of the house across the street, the young man would have congratulated himself upon his action.
For behind an open window on the second floor stood a man with a rifle. His gun had been trained directly upon Harry’s form. When Harry had turned away, the man’s finger had been on the trigger; but his decision had changed when Harry had entered the warehouse.
The passage which Harry followed was a gloomy one. His mind was too intent upon what lay ahead to worry about anything that he had left behind.
The door was still part way open, and the street light revealed the way until the passage turned to the right. Here the cement paving was replaced by a flight of wooden steps. Harry went upward through almost total darkness. He felt the wall on his left and his hands reached a corner.
Harry peered cautiously around the corner and saw that a clear passage lay ahead. It led to the next street, and was gloomy but not forbidding. There was no sign of Rodney Paget.
THE fact that his man had outdistanced him spurred Harry to immediate action. He was angry with himself for having been tricked by so simple an artifice. He was determined to gain the street before Paget could get away.
He stepped quickly to the uppermost step; then made a wild clutch in the air. His efforts were too late.
The wooden landing opened in the middle and Harry felt himself falling into the depths below.
His left hand was still touching the corner of the passageway; but the bare stone offered no hold. A gasping cry escaped Harry’s lips as he dropped.