A Bank of England note lay between two stones. It had been dropped by Dutch Gus. Fay picked it up, folded it, and went on toward the Schwartz Canal like an Apache after scalps.
He reached the bridge and stepped into the stream of burgers. He saw them eyeing him. The reason lay in his blood-stained face and muddy overcoat. He crossed to the south bank and turned toward the ship.
Grimly determined to have the thing out, he decided to tell Saidee Isaacs what had happened, and then take up the search for Dutch Gus and the cipher-key. He passed the first of the shore lines. A seaman in a torn blouse was standing by these. A voice was bulling from the ridiculously high bridge of the freighter. The screw churned.
Fay shouted and leaped for the gangplank. He climbed upward and reached the deck. There was still time to get Saidee Isaacs ashore. He would need her now.
A face that was stamped with unforgettable memory stared out from a cabin. A door closed with a slam. Fay backed against the rail of the ship and passed his hand over his forehead.
Dutch Gus had fled to the same ship! They would make the passage to Stavanger together.
CHAPTER XI
CHECKMATED
Fay’s first movement was a start of surprise. He gripped the rail and waited as the dingy Dutch ship backed, starboarded, then started to turn in the confined waters of the canal.
Over him surged a rage which mounted in hot waves of blood to his temples. He stood before the door, behind which crouched the man who had set the trap in the Holland marsh, and who held the cipher-key.
He felt caution vanish in one desire. He bunched his muscles and hurtled toward the door. He struck it with staggering force. A crash resounded above the sounds of shore-leaving. Seamen hurried in his direction. Seeing red, and grimly determined to smash through to Dutch Gus, he glided back against the rail, then lunged forward—this time with double force.