When he returned to the auction room two hours later darkness was falling. A dull, drab fog had come creeping in from the lake. Lights glowed through it like great staring eyes. They reminded him of the eyes in the wall at the professor’s house.
“Bought a package here,” he grumbled to the clerk. “Some busted thing, I guess. Here’s the ticket and the rest of the money.”
“Here you are!” The parcel man handed out his prize package.
The thing was heavier than he had expected. Prying up a corner of the box, he thrust in a hand. He touched something round, smooth and hard. “Like a skull,” he whispered.
“Only some sort of electric lamp,” he decided after further exploring. “Metal affair made like a jug; broken, probably. Oh well, might as well take it along.”
Leaving the auction room, he came out into the street and headed west.
That portion of the city is not inviting, nor does it seem particularly friendly to well-dressed strangers. During the day, when the weather is fair, the cross streets swarm with men who once worked, who may work again, but who for the present stand and idly stare or wander up and down.
This night was damp and chill. The street was all but deserted. Halfway through a block a chance flash of light from a passing car revealed four well-dressed men standing at the entrance to an alley.
One look, and Johnny sprang back. The movement was purely instinctive. He had seen faces like theirs before, in court rooms and behind iron bars. Three of the men were in full view, one in the shadow.
Unfortunately the chance revelation of that passing car came too late. Before he could turn and show them his heels, they had him surrounded.