Long before he reached the door, he heard the four men racing across in the same direction. As he did not wish them to see him, however, he hid himself behind some bushes, but as soon as they had passed him, he emerged from his hiding place, and followed them at a little distance.
Meanwhile, the report of the revolver had aroused[Pg 17] the occupants of the house, and by the time Max reached the door in the wall, he could hear the servants running out of the house and calling to one another through the darkness.
By that time, though, Atherton and the others had scrambled into their machine, and the car was halfway down the lane.
Swiftly, yet without any trace of flurry, the waiter darted across the road, snatched away the screen of leaves from his motor cycle, and wheeled the machine into the lane.
While he was starting the engine, he heard a number of servants running toward the door, and, just as he mounted, two of them dashed out.
“Here’s one of them!” called the foremost servant, and, as he uttered the words, he rushed at Max and tried to seize him by the arm.
A blow in the mouth, however, sent him reeling back into the arms of the other servants, and the next instant the waiter was scorching down the lane at a speed which defied pursuit.
Half an hour later, after passing through Freehold, Berne caught sight of the tail lights of Atherton’s car. He easily could have overtaken it had he wished, but he preferred to follow it at a respectful distance.
Eventually, to make a long story short, he saw it thread its way through the outlying districts of Long Island City, across the Queensborough Bridge, and plunge into the narrow streets of the East Side.
Even then he did not leave the trail, but followed until the big car drew up in front of the huge apartment house in which Alfred Atherton maintained his luxurious bachelor quarters.