THE COMPLETE JIM MAITLAND SERIES. H. C. McNeile / Sapper

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СКАЧАТЬ our steps towards our own hotel.

      * * * * *

      It was eleven o'clock next morning that we returned to the hotel where we had left Colette. And we found she'd gone!

      The clerk, in the intervals of picking his teeth, informed us dispassionately that a message had come round for her to the effect that the gentleman with the eyeglass wished her to come at once to his hotel—the Grand. And she'd gone. Apparently her bill had been paid, and he could tell us nothing more. A car had been waiting and she had got in. With which he returned to his teeth, while Jim cursed with marvellous fluency under his breath.

      "What a fool I was, Dick! We ought to have taken her to the Grand." We were standing in the sunny street outside the hotel. "That swine MacTavert has got her back."

      "What about going to the police?" I suggested.

      "Man, we've got no proof," he cried. "And even if we had, the police in a place like this are no more use than a sick headache. We've got to handle this thing ourselves, Dick. Are you on?"

      "Of course," I said briefly. "What's the first move?"

      "A further conversation with MacTavert," he remarked. "And at once."

      The dancing saloon was empty as we turned into it. The reek of stale smoke and spirits was worse than the night before, but it was evidently too early for the habituÚs to arrive.

      "So much the better," said Jim grimly. "It gives us a clear field."

      He gave a shout of "Bar!" and after a moment or two MacTavert's evil face appeared through a door. He stared at us for a time in silence; then he pressed an electric bell twice.

      "This bar don't open till midday," he remarked at length.

      "That's very fortunate," said Jim placidly. "It gives us an hour to break it up in. How is the face this morning?"

      "Get out of it!" roared MacTavert, completely losing control of himself.

      "Certainly," answered Jim. "The instant that you produce Colette I shall be delighted to go."

      But the scoundrel wasn't going to give himself away.

      "So you've lost her, have you?" he sneered. "She fooled you nicely last night, didn't she?"

      He was leaning over the bar, shaking with laughter.

      "You dear little mother's innocent, with your little pane of glass in your eye! I admit you can hit, but you've a lot to learn yet, Percy. Sling him out, boys," he snarled suddenly, "and half-murder him!"

      I swung round to see two men creeping on Jim from behind—two men who had entered noiselessly while MacTavert was talking. They were great, powerful brutes, in better condition than MacTavert, and they thought they had a soft thing on. Slinging out a toff with an eyeglass was just pure pleasure—better even than half-drowning a missionary.

      It was then I discovered what a wonderful weapon a bottle of French vermouth can be if used skilfully. So did the leading tough. He crashed like a log, with vermouth dripping from his head, and Jim returned the broken bottle to MacTavert.

      "A poor fighter," he murmured placidly, though his eyes were very bright and watchful. "Is your other friend going to sling me out?"

      But the second man showed no signs of attempting to do anything of the sort. He was muttering to MacTavert behind the bar, and suddenly the latter began to grin.

      "There's something up, Jim," I whispered, and he nodded without speaking.

      "Well, Percy," said MacTavert, at length, "we've kind of come to the conclusion that you must be powerful fond of that little girl. So out of the kindness of my heart I guess you may take her—if you can. She is through that door there and up the stairs. The room on the right is hers. And, as I say, you may take her—if you can."

      The leer had deepened on his face, and Jim was watching him narrowly.

      "Not afraid, are you?" sneered MacTavert. "I'll come with you and show you the way."

      He slouched over to the door, and we followed him. Jim had his hand in his pocket, and I could see the outline of his gun, but if MacTavert saw it he gave no sign. He led the way up the stairs, and paused at the top waiting for us. And it was then I noticed that the other man had left the bar. It was empty save for the unconscious scoundrel on the floor.

      "Here's the room," remarked MacTavert, flinging open the door and leading the way in.

      "You infernal swine!" roared Jim, as we saw the terrified girl. She was lashed to a chair and gagged, and in an instant he was beside her undoing the rope, and Colette was free!

      "Cover him, Dick!" he ordered briefly, and my gun went into MacTavert's waistcoat. His great, coarse face was within a few inches of mine, but it was the look of triumph in his eyes that warned me of the trap. He was staring at something over my shoulder, and suddenly he gave a great shout of "Now!"

      I swung round, like the fool I was, and the next moment he'd knocked my revolver away, and his hands were round my throat. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jim fighting desperately with two men who had sprung through the door, but it wasn't there that the trap lay; it wasn't that which had caused the sudden shout of "Now!"

      Coming towards the window from the outside along a flat piece of roof was the man who had been talking to MacTavert downstairs. He had a revolver in his hand, and he was covering Jim through the window—Jim, who was all unconscious of the danger. I strove to shout—to warn him, but MacTavert had got my throat, and it was all I could do to hold my own. And all the time the triumph deepened in MacTavert's eyes.

      The two men were being flung all over the place by Jim, but they hung on to him. And steadily they manoeuvred him nearer and nearer to the window. He had his back towards it, and once the man outside raised his revolver, only to drop it again as the three of them spun round, spoiling his shot.

      But it couldn't last long, and I put forth one supreme effort to get the better of MacTavert. We crashed, both of us rolling over and over on the floor. And so I didn't see the actual deed by which Colette saved our lives. All I knew was that suddenly we were fighting in darkness, MacTavert and I. I heard dimly the crashing of the window, and the splintering of wooden shutters. Then two shots rang out quite quickly, and the room was light again.

      Instinctively MacTavert and I loosened our hold on one another, and got dazedly to our feet. And, save for our heavy breathing and a little sobbing whimper from that wonderful girl, there was silence in the room.

      "She closed those wooden shutters," said Jim at length, and his voice was a little dazed. "She closed those wooden butters, and put her arm where the bar ought to be that bolts them. She hadn't time, I guess, for the bar. And he broke her arm for her."

      He looked at the man who had done it—the man who had smashed through the shutters, and fired at him—and he was lying motionless on his face. He looked at Colette, and she had fainted. And then he looked at MacTavert, and his face was terrible to see.

      "Get out!" snarled Jim to the two men whom he had been fighting. He slipped his own revolver back in his pocket. "Get out—or I might shoot you, as I shot him."

      And the men slunk out, leaving MacTavert alone. For a moment Jim stared at him, and his eyes were hard and merciless. СКАЧАТЬ