Crenshaw dodged it--and the two men grappled and went down, fighting
furiously; Harleston letting out shouts all the while, and even managing
to overturn a table, which fell with a terrific smash of broken glass
and bric-a-brac, to attract attention and lead to an investigation.
He had not much trouble in mastering Crenshaw; but Sparrow, when he was
done spinning around on one foot from the agonizing pain of the kick on
the shin, would be another matter; the two men and the woman could
overpower him, unless assistance came quickly. And to that end he raised
all the uproar possible for the few seconds that Sparrow spun and the
woman stared.
Just as Sparrow hobbled to Crenshaw's aid, Harleston landed a short arm
blow on the latter's ear and sprang up, avoided the former's rush and
made for the hall-way.
At the same moment came a loud pounding on the corridor door. The noise
had been effective.
In a bound, Harleston reached the door; it should, as he knew, open from
within by a turn of the knob. But it was double-locked on the inside and
the key was missing.
He whirled--just in time to see the last of the mixed trio disappear
into the drawing-room, and the door snap shut behind them.
He sped across and flung himself against it--it was locked.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109