"What can I do, Garth?" the big man asked hoarsely.
What to do, indeed! Garth thrust his hands in his pockets. He stared helplessly up the street. His glance rested on the corner house of the next block where last night the man in the fur coat had left the first coin. Suddenly his breath sharpened. His mind, planning blindly, paused, drew back, dared again to face the single chance that had risen from the shadows of the corner house.
He wet his lips. He touched the inspector's shoulder. He understood that on a bare possibility he would place his entire career in the scales. Since, however, it balanced Nora's rescue from such unspeakable hands, he did not hesitate.
"Chief," he whispered, "take your men back to the station house and keep them ready. I'll telephone you there in a few minutes, fifteen or twenty at the outside."
"What are you going to do, Garth?"
"Take one chance to get Nora back," he answered quickly, "probably say good-bye to New York. It was something I thought of last night. It seemed common sense to forget it this morning. Now I'm going to make sure. No time to talk."
CHAPTER XII
THE HIDDEN DOOR
He ran swiftly west, past the house on the corner, past the areaway where he had secreted himself last night, into Park Avenue, always on the course taken by the limousine. And, when he came to Black's number, he saw the limousine drawn up, waiting. In the upper story of the small but expensive house lights burned. He pressed the electric button, sighing his relief. He was grimly determined to see the thing through. His resolution was stimulated by his memory of the queue, coiled like a serpent, watching to strike with fangs bearing the poison of degradation and death. Nora stood within reach of that, perhaps, was already its victim. So when the door was opened by a sleek serving-man, he did not hesitate.