<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br/> <span class="cheaderfont">ESCAPING FROM DEADLY SHADOWS</span></h2>
<p>Alan Hope spent most of the next day at the
offices of the Universal Transportation Company,
and was inclined to scoff at the idea of his being
watched. Nevertheless he had a loaded automatic
revolver tucked away in his hip pocket,
and, as night drew on, his assurance began to
ooze gradually, and he felt more than once to
make sure that his weapon was still there ready
for defense.</p>
<p>Ned Napier was really impressed with the
threats of the mysterious German, and, though
he did not arm himself as Alan had, he kept a
sharp lookout for suspicious characters about
him. All day long he wandered with an air of
affected carelessness through the downtown shopping
district, made a couple of short business
calls, ate leisurely at the Ritz, and seemed to
have no thought of anything but home and bed
for that evening.</p>
<p>Buck Stewart arose early that morning, ate
a hearty breakfast, and when he started out took<span class="pagenum">[55]</span>
with him what was apparently an ordinary cane,
but which really was a rod of steel, encased in
leather. Many reporters carry them when they
are sent out on assignments into dangerous sections
of the city.</p>
<p>Swinging his stick jauntily, he made his way
first to the offices of the <cite>Herald</cite>, where a brief
chat with the managing editor readily procured
him permission to accompany the Airship Boys
on their trip. The editor, in fact, made a regular
assignment of it and cautioned Buck to take
along with him plenty of pencils, notebooks and
a small camera that could be swung over one
shoulder with a strap.</p>
<p>Thus burdened, Buck again sought the street.
Leaving “Newspaper Row” behind, he sauntered
along, stopping now and then to look at articles
in the shop windows, and finally decided to see
the matinee at the <em>Casino</em>.</p>
<p>Broadway was thronged with the usual afternoon
crowd of beautiful women and fashionably
dressed idlers for which it is famous. The
reporter shouldered his way through these, a
little self-conscious of the bumping camera-box
over his shoulder and the way his pockets bulged
with surplus notebooks. Once a tall, plainly
dressed man with a close-cropped beard bumped<span class="pagenum">[56]</span>
into him. There was a mutual exchange of
apologies and the crowd soon swallowed him.
Later on Buck met a fellow newspaperman in
front of the Astor and stopped to chat with him.
An inadvertent side glance during this conversation
discovered the same bearded stranger standing
just to one side of the hotel entrance, as if
hesitating whether to go in or not. There was
no recognition in his cold eyes as Buck’s glance
caught his, but the reporter’s heart gave a little
jump.</p>
<p>“Pshaw!” growled Buck to himself, “I’m
getting to be a regular old granny! Here I see
the same passer-by twice in an afternoon on
Broadway and am afraid that he’s a spy waiting
to sandbag me.”</p>
<p>His uneasiness was not thus to be laughed
off though, and spoiled his enjoyment of the performance
at the theatre. He scanned the audience
around him narrowly to see if the bearded
man was among them, and was relieved at failing
to find him.</p>
<p>After the show Buck again wandered aimlessly
through the streets. He was keenly on the alert
for spies, and found merely killing time to be
harder than he had thought it would be. The
strain was beginning to tell on his nerves. At<span class="pagenum">[57]</span>
dusk a million lights flashed out in a dazzling
array of figures and designs and the Great
White Way made good its name. But Buck was
tired of it by then. He strolled over to near-by
Fifth Avenue, where there were fewer people
to jostle him and the rattle of the streets was
less distracting. He felt, for no apparent reason,
increasingly sure that he was being followed.</p>
<p>To make sure of his suspicions Buck walked
at times very slowly; at others rapidly; but he
observed no suspicious “shadows.” True, there
were a number of people walking behind him, but
his inspection revealed nothing sinister about
them.</p>
<p>Buck told himself that his fears were silly—that
he was as bad as a girl in the dark. Still
the vague dread oppressed him.</p>
<p>He ate in a small restaurant just off Fourth
Avenue, entering the place at the same time as
two other men whose dress indicated them to be
shop clerks, or something of the kind. When
he arose to pay his bill and leave, they did also.
At the counter, one of them brushed as if accidentally
against him, and Buck felt deft fingers
pass swiftly over his pockets as if searching
for something. Was the fellow feeling to see if
Buck carried a revolver?</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[58]</span></p>
<p>The reporter wondered, but said nothing to the
strangers. Their faces were innocent enough
and their eyes met his questioning glance candidly.
Buck went on out into the night and
they followed close on his heels. As he stood
quietly in the doorway there, however, the men
bade each other good night and parted—going
in opposite directions along the street. Finally
they disappeared in the darkness.</p>
<p>Buck was sorely perplexed. He felt absolutely
certain that it was unsafe for him to be wandering
about alone, yet it was several hours too
early to start for Newark. Finally he decided
to take in several moving picture shows as the
safest way to keep out of danger. One of the
men whom he had seen in the little restaurant
was lounging outside of the first playhouse
Buck visited. Before the films were fully run
the reporter slipped out through one of the side
exits into an alley.</p>
<p>It was so dark there that he hardly could see
the ground under foot. Twenty assailants might
be waiting in the gloom for aught he could tell.
The reporter was not ashamed to take frankly to
his heels and rush out onto the lighted street as
fast as he could. He noticed that the lounger
had disappeared from the theatre doorway.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[59]</span></p>
<p>Hoping now that he had thrown his unknown
pursuers off the trail, Buck visited a second
moving picture playhouse. There a drunken man
plumped roughly down into the vacant seat next
to him and tried to pick a quarrel without any
excuse at all. The reporter would have taken
this as rather a joke had it not been that there
was no vile odor of intoxicants on this drunkard’s
breath. Shoving the rough to one side,
Buck hurried out of the theatre, walked quickly
down the street to the next corner; crossed there
to see if he was followed; turned the next corner;
walked two blocks along an ill-lighted
deserted side street and there jumped into a
dark doorway to listen.</p>
<p>Yes! there was no mistake about it! He could
hear the patter of running feet less than a quarter
of a block behind. Ere Buck had time to
flee, rubber heels on the pursuers’ shoes deadened
their footfalls again and two shadowy
figures appeared directly in front of his hiding
place. They paused there, breathing hard, and
holding a hasty conference.</p>
<p>“How ever did he get away from you, Hermann?”
snarled the bigger of the two men to
the other, whom Buck now recognized as the
“drunken man” of the theatre.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[60]</span></p>
<p>“Why talk about that now that he has again
eluded us?” he growled. “If only we had him
here on this dark street, we could soon finish
with him.”</p>
<p>“Yes, we must catch him at once. He must
still be in the neighborhood and isn’t armed. I
made sure of that in the restaurant a couple of
hours ago. But anyway, he can’t go far without
Otto, Wilhelm or some of the others seeing him.
They are covering all of these three streets, you
know.”</p>
<p>The man addressed as Hermann grunted his
assent.</p>
<p>“I’m winded from that run after the fool,”
said he. “Let’s sit down in this doorway and
rest for a few moments.”</p>
<p>Buck’s heart began to beat faster. He
knew that his discovery and assault were only
a matter of a few seconds. The scoundrelly pair
had now approached within arm’s reach of him,
so without further delay the reporter swung
aloft his loaded cane and brought it down in a
smashing side blow on the head of the nearest
man.</p>
<div id="Ref_60" class="figcenter">
<ANTIMG src="images/i063.jpg" alt="" />
<div class="caption"><p class="center"><em>A Narrow Escape.</em></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>A bellow of rage and pain shocked the neighborhood
into wakefulness. As the second man
leaped savagely at him, Buck evaded a wicked<span class="pagenum">[61]</span>
knife stab and struck him full between the eyes
with his clenched fist. The fellow reeled, jerked
a pistol from his pocket and emptied it blindly
at the place where his combatant had stood an
instant before.</p>
<p>But Buck was bounding down the street as
fast as his legs could carry him, his camera
bumping clumsily against his back. A cross-town
trolley car was clanging the bell down the
next street and the breathless reporter made a
running jump to catch it. Just as he did so a
third man with a closely-cropped beard sprang
after him from the curb. He caught the camera
and gave a mighty tug at it which broke the
strap, and, with the box in his hands, sent him
sprawling backwards in the street. The rushing
trolley car did not stop, and Buck’s extraordinary
agility was all that enabled him to swing
aboard safely.</p>
<p>“It’s a fine night, mister,” said the conductor,
as he rang up the fare.</p>
<p>Buck answered him with the sourest of stares.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[62]</span></p>
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