“I mean I don’t know any more than you do when he beat it or how he passed the gates, and that’s the God’s truth!” Porter responded slowly, his gaunt, sallow face twitching. “I read about his escape in the papers as I told you and when the days passed and he wasn’t caught I was happy thinking he had got clean away but I never dreamed of him turning up here! Late one afternoon, though,—never mind how long ago—I opened the side door to find him all but leaning against it, weak from hunger and thirst and fairly desperate. He’d got past the watchman during a rainstorm a night or two before to try to reach me, his old pal, and he’d been hiding in that empty house next door, without food or water, not daring to come openly and ask for me. When I didn’t show myself he made up his mind to beat it, but he found he couldn’t get out as easy as he’d got in, and he was near crazy!”
“That’ll be a week ago last Saturday.” McCarty nodded. “When you came on him he was just after grabbing a kid that lives on the block here and searching his pockets to see could he find if the lad had a key to the gates—!”
“Glory be!” Dennis ejaculated beneath his breath.
“Yes. He was half off his head, but he didn’t hurt the boy any, only scared him. I made him go back next door and lay low till the search was over, and after night-fall I took him some bread and meat and a bottle of rare old port from the cellar. It was stealing, and poor return for all the old gentleman has done for me, but George needed it bad, and I figured I owed most to him. He needed clothes too, but mine fitted him, and I didn’t have to steal money for him either, because the old gentleman pays me good and I’d been nowhere to spend it. The trouble was how to get him through the gates, for after the scare he’d given the boy both watchmen were leery of strangers and if he was held up and questioned I knew he’d go to pieces from the long strain he’d been under, and it would be all up with him.” Porter reached for a silver jug of icewater which stood on the table beside him and drank deeply, then replaced it with a sigh of relief. “No one has keys except the families themselves and I’d no chance to borrow Miss Parsons’, of course, nor her niece, Miss Hester’s. The old gentleman carries his on a ring and sleeps with it under his pillow and though I tried twice to get it he woke up both times; I had a job of it to explain what I was doing in his room and I didn’t dare risk it again. George was getting wild with the waiting and worry, and took to prowling out at night in spite of all I could say; I was getting pretty desperate myself when all at once he’d gone, and that’s all I know.”
He straightened his narrow shoulders as though a load were lifted from them and McCarty rose.
“When did you see him last?”
“Sunday night late when I went to take him some food. I handed it in through the window and we talked for a minute, but I didn’t dare stay longer. George was almost ready to give himself up, for his nerve was gone and it was all I could do to persuade him to wait. We’d arranged that I was to go to him every other night—I couldn’t risk it oftener—so I didn’t miss him Monday. Last evening I got some rolls, a cold pheasant and a half-bottle of burgundy and waited under the window as long as I dared, but he didn’t come and finally I took down the loose iron bars and let myself in. There wasn’t the least sign of a light from his candle and he didn’t answer when I took a chance and called, so I left the food and came away, but I was awake all night worrying and towards morning I went back and got the stuff, which hadn’t been touched. I was afraid the cook would miss the pheasant and it might be found and traced; I never thought about the wine bottles!”
“So he might have got away any time from Sunday night on?”
“That’s right. I’m giving it to you straight, Mac, and I knew when I saw you an hour ago that you’d be after me sooner or later, especially when Miss Parsons—the old gentleman’s sister, Miss Priscilla—heard a noise next door and told me to notify the watchman! I was afraid it was all up with us last week when Inspector Druet came, but it was about that valet from across the street who was poisoned and the inspector didn’t even let on he recognized me.”
“Do you know the kid that Radley tried to get a key off of?” McCarty ignored the observation.