"No," Garth answered. "From now on you'll stick to me like a brother."
He took the receiver from the telephone and got the inspector at the station house. While Black protested, he instructed the inspector to have a man follow Black and himself, and, no matter what house they entered, to surround that entire block and to keep a watch on every house front. If he could communicate in no other way, Garth promised to fire his revolver twice, if possible, from a front window.
Black shrank back.
"But you said—alone."
"Alone," Garth answered, "but that's what's going to happen once I'm in. I'm not throwing my life away. Are you ready, or do you prefer the cell and your picture in the morning papers?"
Black led the way without further protests down the staircase. At the foot he broke down again. Garth warned him and helped him on with his overcoat.
"You leave me no choice," Black whimpered. "No choice."
Garth drew him to the sidewalk.
"If you waste time steering me wrong," he said, "I'm through. And don't forget I have a gun. Try to throw me down once we're in, I'll use it."
Black made an effort to square his shoulders. He crossed the avenue with a lurching gait. Garth glanced back. A dark figure skulked after them. So that was all right. The inspector would know their destination immediately.