The Argosy, August 1905 — page 43: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- After a time Haddon stopped, re- placed the file under his cassock, and seized the collar in both hands. A sharp snap, accompanied by a stifled groan, sounded in the room. The prisoner raised his hand quickly to his neck, and when-he withdrew it his fingers were stained with blood, but the iron collar was broken. Haddon placed his hand under his companion’s arm, but the prisoner arose without much effort. He swayed slightly and his head remained rigid, but there seemed to be no cause to fear he would collapse. “God knows, my friend———” he be- gan, but Haddon checked him. “Words are unnecessary. I do not even ask how you came here. It is enough for the present that you tell me your name. I am Haddon, of Harney’s Horse.” “And I am Anderson, of Duncan’s Battery. They caught me within four miles of zs “T know,’ interrupted Haddon sharply. “On the Acapulco road. We will talk this thing over when we get out of this hornet’s nest. The thing now is to get out.” He stepped to the door and listened, then returned to his companion. “The guard is standing outside the entrance. When I knock he will let me into the passage. Listen to what [ have to say carefully. “This building is situated at the anele of two streets. The one on which your window opens is lighted and filled with people, but the other is much nar- rower, dark, and practically deserted. When you leave this room, turn to the right and pass straight through the hall. It will bring you to the door opening into the narrow street. It should be an easy matter for you to slip out and lose yourself in the darkness, for these Mexicans are under wretched discipline and the strects are not patrolled. We will not leave the house together, for I shall pass out by the front door; neither will it be wise for us to see each other anywhere in Chalco. Having left this place, you must shift for yourself and escape from this town as quickly as possiblé.” “Then when shall I see you again? a Fae ; ‘a * NTH RIDER. 33 You surely do not intend to remain for long in Chalco? They may do to you as they have done to me, and my disguise was well-nigh perfect.” Haddon thought for a moment. “The country between here and our lines is alive with Mexicans, and to pass through them may be difficult unless you understand the roads. There is, some four hours’ ride from here, a de- serted inn on the Acapulco road; you may know the place by three gigantic boulders which rise to the height of twenty feet or more on the opposite side of the road. ** As I have said, this inn is deserted. Make your way thither, and if you so choose, remain there for forty-eight hours. If by that time I do not appear, it will be impossible for me to come by that road, and you can continue on alone.” “T know the inn, for I slept between the boulders one night,” answered An- derson. “Then you need no further direc- tions. 1 am going to knock on the door. Stand a little behind me, and when I leave the room, follow quickly and turn to the right,” said Haddon briefly. He laid in his companion’s hand a pis- tol and short-bladed knife. Then he turned and walked to the door. Several moments elapsed between the tapping upon the panel and the sound of approaching footsteps in the hall without. Then the noise of a bolt being drawn was heard and the door swung open. The guard peered into the darkened chamber. ““ Well, father,” said he, “are you ready to depart?” Haddon advanced across the thresh- old; it was only a step—suflicient to permit him to gaze up and down the hall. “ A word, my son,” said he softly. The Mexican stepped through the open door. Suddenly he saw something behind the supposed priest—the figure of a man whose face was in the shadow. A startled exclamation sprang to his lips, but before it found utterance a grip which seemed to be that of steel closed upon his throat. So sudden it was that the breath was driven into his — al