The Deaves Affair Part 55

Seizing Deaves' hand, Evan pulled him away to the right. Corinna and Aunt Liza melted in the other direction. The old man came through the underbrush like a reaping machine, and of course the police took after them. For a moment Evan considered abandoning him. He would come to no harm, of course. But on the other hand, Evan now ardently desired to have the whole affair hushed up. He got Deaves across the rough road in safety, and on the other side, coming to an immense spruce tree with drooping branches, he dragged him under it, and they sank down on a fragrant bed of needles.

The pursuing policemen, coming to the road, instinctively turned off upon it, and Evan knew they were safe for the moment. Presently they came back, aimlessly thres.h.i.+ng the woods and flas.h.i.+ng their lights, but they had lost the trail now. They were looking for a needle in a hay-stack. Evan's only fear was that they might stumble on Charley, but he heard no sounds from that direction that indicated they had done so. The sounds of searching moved off to the other side of the road, and Evan determined to go to Charley himself.

Leaving the old man with a whispered admonition to silence, Evan set off. He found Charley where he had left him under the leafy bush.

Evan whispered in his ear:

"I found her. I am on your side now. The police are all around us.

Make no sound!"

He unbound Charley. The latter sat up and rubbed his ankles. Whatever he thought of the new turn of affairs, he said nothing.

Evan said: "I have Deaves back here. Follow me."

Foot by foot they crept back in a course parallel to the rough road.

Hearing footsteps approach, they hugged the earth. Two men pa.s.sed in the road. One was saying:

"Send Wilson back in the car to the road house to telephone for enough men to surround this patch of woods. You patrol the road outside."

Evan and Charley crept away through the underbrush like foxes at the sight of the hunter.

They reached the big spruce tree without further accident. The old man greeted them with a moan of relief. Evan and Charley drew away from him a little while they consulted.

Evan said: "Corinna and Aunt Liza are somewhere in the woods across the road. We had to separate. How can we get in touch with them?"

"They'll be all right," muttered Charley. "Corinna knows this place.

They're safer than we are."

"I can't leave here until I am more sure," said Evan. "Will you take the old man and put him on the way home?"

"All right."

"How will you go? I'll have to follow you later."

"The Lafayette trolley line will be watched, and the Yonkers line stops at one o'clock. We'll have to walk to Yonkers. Follow the road through the woods in the other direction, and it will put you on a regular road. Keep going in a westerly direction."

"I get you," said Evan. "Where does Corinna live?"

"What do you want to know for?" growled Charley.

"If I hear nothing from her here, I want to go to make sure she got home all right."

"Well, I won't tell you."

"Everything is changed now. I am on your side and hers."

"I hear you say it," Charley said sullenly.

Evan's sense of justice forced him to admit that Charley was justified.

"Well, will you do this?" he said. "When you've got the old man off your hands, go to her place yourself, and then come to me and tell me if she's all right."

"I'll do it if she wants me to," Charley said.

"Here's your flashlight," said Evan. "I'll keep the gun a little while, in case Corinna calls for my help."

Charley pocketed the light in silence and led the old man forth from under the tree. Simeon Deaves that night was like a pet dog on a leader, pa.s.sed impatiently from hand to hand.

Evan, fancying that the thick branches hindered him from hearing, crept out and lay down on the gra.s.s. The woods were not so thick in this place. This had evidently been part of the grounds surrounding the old house in its palmy days, and the spruce was a relic of those times. He heard an automobile approach in the highway, and stop at the end of the woods track. This would be the man returning from having telephoned.

All sounds of the search through the woods had ceased. Evidently they had decided that the better way was to watch all outlets.

No sound from any quarter betrayed the whereabouts of Corinna and the old negress. They were swallowed up as completely as if they had taken to their burrows like rabbits. Evan's heart was with her, wherever she was. He had not the same anxious solicitude for her that one would have for an ordinary woman hunted in the dark woods, for he was well a.s.sured that Corinna was not a prey to imaginary terrors. She would be no less at home in the woods at night than he was. Still no sound came from her. He was not at all sure that she would summon him if hard pressed, but they could not take her without his hearing it.

In the end the greying sky in the East bade him consider his own retreat if he wished to avoid capture. He had committed no crime, of course, but he was very sensible of the awkwardness of trying to explain his own share in the night's doings, should he be taken. He had good hopes that Corinna had escaped by now. He started to make his way westward.

He made a wide detour around the house and struck into the rough track on the other side, travelling softly, and keeping his ears open. He had heard no searchers on this side. After a half mile or so he saw light through the trees ahead. He saw a road bounding the woods on this side, and open fields beyond.

He struck into the woods again, and took a cautious reconnaisance of the road from the underbrush before venturing upon it--the world was filled with ghostly light now. It was well that he did so, for he saw a burly individual loafing in the highway, with his eye on the end of the wood track. He wore civilian clothes, but "policeman" was written all over him.

Evan had to get across that road somehow, but it was so straight the watcher could see half a mile in either direction. And on the other side there was no cover, only cultivated fields. There was one spot some hundreds of yards north where the road dipped into a hollow and was lost to view for a short s.p.a.ce. Evan, keeping well within the woods, made for that.

There was a stream with a bridge over it. By hugging the edge of the stream and ducking under the bridge he made the other side of the road.

A field of growing corn received him.

That was his last serious hazard. In the sweet coolness of the dawn he made his way over field after field, keeping the sunrise at his back.

He crossed the roads circ.u.mspectly and gave the villages a wide berth.

Finally he climbed a wooded hill, and from the other side looked down into the city of Yonkers. Here he ventured to show himself openly, took a car for town, and an hour and a half later was climbing the stairs to his own room. His heart was heavy with anxiety.

When he entered he saw Charley sitting at his table with his head on his arms, asleep. Evan's heart leaped. He shook the sleeper.

"Is she all right?" he cried.

Charley lifted a sullen and resentful face. "She got home all right,"

he muttered, and immediately started for the door, still swaying with sleep.

"Wait a minute," said Evan. "Here's your gun."

Charley held out his hand for it without looking at the other.

Evan no longer blamed Charley for what had seemed like treachery.

Indeed, his heart was warm now towards his old friend. "Don't you want to stop and talk things over?" he said.

"I have nothing to say to you," Charley said sorely, and went on out.

Evan, with a sigh, turned bedwards.

CHAPTER XXIII