CHAPTER XII
THE BREATH OF DEATH
“Who is he?” asked Dennis, wide-eyed. “Who is this George Radley?”
“You remember, don’t you, Mac?” The inspector turned to the ex-roundsman. “Radley was a young chemist—”
“A chemist!” caroled McCarty and Dennis in unison. Then their mouths shut like traps and they stared at each other.
“What’s got into you two?” Inspector Druet demanded. “This Radley was accused, together with an accomplice, of sending poison to a mutual enemy, concealed in candy. An innocent member of the man’s household ate it and died, but the actual evidence against the accused was so weak that they could only be convicted of manslaughter after two disagreements and then the accomplice only got two or three years and Radley ten. He’ll have several more to serve yet, however, even allowing for good behavior and then, too, a guard was seriously injured in trying to prevent that crush-out, so he’s wanted bad. He could never have got as far as the city in those clothes!”
“He had others outside of ’em, either stole or slipped to him.” Dennis returned to the closet and produced a pair of dilapidated shoes, gray trousers and a long mackinaw, together with a soft Panama hat. “Only the shoes are ragged, you see; the rest is in pretty good condition and there’s an umbrella in a corner of the closet. He could have got past the watchman easy on a rainy night, especially if he said he was coming to see a maid, maybe, in one of the houses.—Still, that don’t account for his grabbing the Goddard kid, if ’twas him, and going through his pockets!”
“His clothes may be a find but we’ve not got himself yet. What if he’s hid under this roof now?” McCarty exclaimed. “He’d have no call to harm the Goddard lad unless Horace found out he was here and was going to give him away, but harm or no, if so he’s had no chance to escape—!”
“You’re right, Mac!” The inspector dropped the clothes he had been examining and started for the door. “We’ll smoke him out!”
But a painstaking search of the great house from attic to cellar failed to reveal any further trace of the refugee and they departed at last through the open window in the basement to round the corner into the court and come face to face with Bill Jennings.
“Mr. Parsons’ butler next door sent me,” the watchman explained. “He said somebody’d heard a noise in there and I’d better see about it. Nothing wrong I hope, inspector?”