Without sign of haste the two walked the length of the
room and disappeared through the doorway leading into the
washroom. Before them was a window opening upon a squalid
back yard. The building stood upon a hillside, so that while
the entrance to the eating-place was below the level of the
street in front, its rear was flush with the ground.
Bridge motioned Billy to climb through the window while
he shot the bolt upon the inside of the door leading back into
the restaurant. A moment later he followed the fugitive, and
then took the lead.
Down narrow, dirty alleys, and through litter-piled back
yards he made his way, while Billy followed at his heels. Dusk
was gathering, and before they had gone far darkness came.
They neither paused nor spoke until they had left the
business portion of the city behind and were well out of the
zone of bright lights. Bridge was the first to break the silence.
"I suppose you wonder how I knew," he said.
"No," replied Billy. "I seen that clipping you got in your
pocket--it fell out on the floor when you took your coat off
in the room this afternoon to go and wash."
"Oh," said Bridge, "I see. Well, as far as I'm concerned
that's the end of it--we won't mention it again, old man.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318