Again Harley's pistol spoke, but, as it seemed, ineffectively.
I had little enough opportunity to survey my surroundings; yet
even in those brief, breathless moments I saw enough of the place
wherein we stood to make me doubt the evidence of my senses!
Outside, I knew, lay a dingy wharf, amid a maze of mean streets;
here was an opulently furnished apartment with a strong Oriental
note in the decorations!
Snatching an electric torch from his pocket, Harley leaped
through a doorway draped with rich Persian tapestry, and I came
close on his heels. Outside was darkness. A strong draught met
us; and, passing along a carpeted corridor, we never halted until
we came to a room filled with the weirdest odds and ends,
apparently collected from every quarter of the globe.
Crack!
A bullet flattened itself on the wall behind us!
"Good job he can't shoot straight!" rapped Harley.
The ray of the torch suddenly picked out the head and shoulders
of a man who was descending through a trap in the floor! Ere we
had time to shoot he was gone! I saw his brown fingers relax
their hold--and a bundle which he had evidently hoped to take
with him was left lying upon the floor.
Together we ran to the trap and looked down.
Pages:
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213