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Page 18
Allen's breath came back to him with a gasp, as though he had been
shocked with a sudden downpour of icy water.
"There is!" he cried. "There _is_ a Court of Appeal. For God's
sake, wait. I appeal to Henry Holcombe, to Judge Holcombe's son. I
appeal to your good name, Harry, to your fame in the world. Think what
you are doing; for the love of God, don't murder me. I'm a criminal, I
know, but not what you would be, Holcombe; not that. You are mad or
drunk. You wouldn't, you couldn't do it. Think of it! _You_,
Henry Holcombe. _You._"
The fingers of Holcombe's hand moved and tightened around the butt of
the pistol, the sweat sprang from the pores of his palm. He raised the
revolver and pointed it. "My sin's on my own head," he said. "Give me
the money."
The older man glanced fearfully back of him at the open window,
through which a sea breeze moved the palms outside, so that they
seemed to whisper together as though aghast at the scene before them.
The window was three stories from the ground, and Allen's eyes
returned to the stern face of the younger man. As they stood silent
there came to them the sound of some one moving in the hall, and of
men's voices whispering together. Allen's face lit with a sudden
radiance of hope, and Holcombe's arm moved uncertainly.
"I fancy," he said, in a whisper, "that those are my friends. They
have some idea of my purpose, and they have come to learn more. If you
call, I will let them in, and they will strangle you into silence
until I get the money."
The two men eyed each other steadily, the older seeming to weigh the
possible truth of Holcombe's last words in his mind. Holcombe broke
the silence in a lighter tone.
"Playing the policeman is a new role to me," he said, "and I warn you
that I have but little patience; and, besides, my hand is getting
tired, and this thing is at full cock."
Allen, for the first time, lowered the box upon the table and drew
from it a bundle of notes bound together with elastic bandages.
Holcombe's eyes lighted as brightly at the sight as though the notes
were for his own private pleasures in the future.
"Be quick!" he said. "I cannot be responsible for the men outside."
Allen bent over the money, his face drawing into closer and sharper
lines as the amount grew, under his fingers, to the sum Holcombe had
demanded.
"Sixty thousand!" he said, in a voice of desperate calm.
"Good!" whispered Holcombe. "Pass it over to me. I hope I have taken
the most of what you have," he said, as he shoved the notes into his
pocket; "but this is something. Now I warn you," he added, as he
lowered the trigger of the revolver and put it out of sight, "that any
attempt to regain this will be futile. I am surrounded by friends; no
one knows you or cares about you. I shall sleep in my room to-night
without precaution, for I know that the money is now mine. Nothing you
can do will recall it. Your cue is silence and secrecy as to what you
have lost and as to what you still have with you."
He stopped in some confusion, interrupted by a sharp knock at the door
and two voices calling his name. Allen shrank back in terror.
"You coward!" he hissed. "You promised me you'd be content with what
you have." Holcombe looked at him in amazement. "And now your
accomplices are to have their share, too, are they?" the embezzler
whispered, fiercely. "You lied to me; you mean to take it all."
Holcombe, for an answer, drew back the bolt, but so softly that the
sound of his voice drowned the noise it made.
"No, not to-night," he said, briskly, so that the his voice penetrated
into the hall beyond. "I mustn't stop any longer, I'm keeping you up.
It has been very pleasant to have heard all that news from home. It
was such a chance, my seeing you before I sailed. Good-night." He
paused and pretended to listen. "No, Allen, I don't think it's a
servant," he said. "It's some of my friends looking for me. This is my
last night on shore, you see." He threw open the door and confronted
Meakim and Carroll as they stood in some confusion in the dark hall.
"Yes, it is some of my friends," Holcombe continued. "I'll be with you
in a minute," he said to them. Then he turned, and, crossing the room
in their sight, shook Allen by the hand, and bade him good-night and
good-by.
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