Neither could she know that it had of late been a custom with that wicked man to go there every few nights to see how fast the only person in the world who knew his dread secrets was dying.
Tom Drake longed to be rid of the accomplice who knew so much of his evil course, and whom he constantly feared would turn against him.
He had heard that day that John Loker was dying, and, determined to see for himself how near he was to his end, he had, as soon as the darkness favored him, climbed to his usual post.
His consternation can be better imagined than described as he beheld and recognized Editha Dalton, of all persons in the world the last one he expected to find there, sitting by the dying man’s bedside, writing the confession that branded him the thief and robber that he was.
And Editha, notwithstanding that every nerve in her body was vibrating with pain from her startling discovery still sat there, apparently calm and unmoved, waiting to hear the rest.
She even turned in her chair a little at last, as if carelessly changing her position.
But it was done with a purpose.
She was afraid if she sat directly opposite that window the magnetism and fascination, horrible though it was, of that terrible face and those fierce eyes, which affected her as face and eyes had never done before, would irresistibly draw her glance in that direction and betray her knowledge of the presence there.
“Well, miss,” the sick man resumed at length—and the sound of his voice breaking the silence that had been so fraught with horror to her sent a painful shock through her whole being—“we got out of the house with our booty, which we carried in a bag, without disturbing any one, and we were congratulating ourselves that we had done a wonderful, neat and profitable job, when, just as we came around the corner by the front entrance, a young chap pounced out upon us and felled Tom to the ground with a swinging, unexpected blow.
“He then came for me as brave as a young giant, and I grappled with him. He gave me a tough struggle of it, I can tell you; but, I knew the boxing game better than he, and it wasn’t long before I had him laid out as flat as a flounder.