The cars were rattling and hanging over switches, lurching crazily.
“And then you said you were Muriel?”
“Yes, of course. I didn’t know who you were, but you had Muriel’s purse, and I wanted to get it back for her. I thought it was easier to pretend to be Muriel than to do a lot of explaining, and then have you insist on waiting for Muriel to come back to claim the purse.”
“And when I got up there,” I said, “you were frightened.”
“I’ll tell the world I was frightened.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
She said, “There was a man in the apartment all the time, hiding in the bedroom. I didn’t know it until after you’d telephoned.” The freight car gave a series of short quick jerks and bangs, slowed almost to a stop, then slammed in another string of cars, and after a moment the whole string began to roll.
“Sounds as though we’re making up a train,” I said. “Look here, do you suppose you could lie over on your side and I’d get over as close to you as I could? We’d lie back to back, and you could work on the knots on my wrists with your fingers, and I’d try to untie your wrists.”
“We could try,” she said.
We rolled and hitched along the floor until we were lying back to back. Somehow I couldn’t get my fingers working. The cords around my wrists made my fumbling fingers seem all thumbs. But she was more successful. I felt the knot slip, heard her say, “I’m getting it, all right — ouch! I’ll bet I lost a fingernail there — hold still, it’s coming loose.”
A few moments later my wrists were free. I sat up and untied her.
Abruptly, with that jerking lurch so characteristic of car switching, the engineer applied the brakes. Lorraine was thrown up against me, and I kept from falling only by grabbing at the side of the car. The partially opened door slammed back until it came up with a bang against the end of the iron track, leaving the square doorway wide-open. The whole string of cars abruptly slowed.
Suddenly our view was cut off. The doorway seemed to be pushed up against a solid wall of darkness.
“What is it?” Lorraine asked. “A warehouse?”
At that moment the train slammed to a dead stop.
I saw then that our car had been stopped directly opposite another string of boxcars.
“Can you jump across to the ladder on that car opposite?” I asked quickly.
She didn’t even bother to answer, simply leaned out of the car, caught the iron ladder on the car opposite, and stepped across. I had to wait a second for her to climb up, so as to leave me a handhold, and in that second the engine gave a snort and a jerk. The car started forward.
“Quick!” Lorraine shouted.
I just missed her leg as I grabbed an iron rung of the ladder and leaned out. It seemed that the car was literally jerked out from under me.
“You all right?” she asked.
“Yes, I took the shock on my other leg.” I started down the ladder. “Watch your step,” I warned. “The—” I broke off, as I saw the flash of a red light, heard a little toot from the engine whistle, and saw the whole string of cars ahead slide to an abrupt stop. I saw the gleam of a flashlight, then another. Then a beam came slithering along the string of cars.
“Quick!” I said. “Get up to the top and lie down. They’re searching for us.”
I heard the slight scrape of her feet on the iron rungs as she scampered up the ladder, and I followed, making the best time I could. We flattened out, I on one side of the walk on top of the car, she on the other.
There were voices after that. Shadows danced along the side of a concrete warehouse just above us. I listened, trying to determine if these men were friends, sent by Gabby to rescue us, or if they were our captors returning. Then, within ten yards of me, a man’s voice said, “This is the end of the cut. They must have swung off while it was moving. They’re not in the car. You can see the ropes there on the floor. Why in hell can’t Jim tie ’em so they stay tied!”
Another voice: “You can’t hold things up any longer without making everybody suspicious. Give them the high-ball. We’ll have to catch ’em as they leave the yards. We’ll spread out. They can’t get away.”
Once more shadows danced. The switch engine gave two muted toots of the whistle and started the string of cars into rattling motion.
“Now what?” Lorraine asked.
“Now,” I said, “we get out of here just as fast as we can. Come on, let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Back to the Redderstone Apartments. Unless I’m mistaken, we’ll find a police inspector by the name of Fanston somewhere in the building, and we can got action out of him a whole lot quicker than we can explain to some strange cop. Tell me one thing. You said there was a man in your apartment?”
“Yes. He heard me talking on the telephone. I don’t know whether you noticed it or not, but I gave an exclamation and then asked you to hold the line a minute.”
“I noticed it,” I said. “What happened?”
“A man stepped out of the bedroom. The first thing I knew I felt the cold circle of a gun muzzle sticking in the back of my neck. Then the man took me away from the telephone for a minute or two, and demanded to know who was talking. I told him it was just someone who wanted to return Muriel’s purse.”
“What did he do?” I asked.
“Marched me back to the telephone with instructions to get you up there at any cost and to insist that I was Muriel.”
“And when I came up,” I asked, “where was he?”
“In the bedroom. He had the door open a crack. He wasn’t where he could see — only listen. That’s why I took a chance and slipped out after you. All I wanted at the time was to get out. Later on, downstairs, when I saw the clerk on duty, I got the idea of trying to make you give up the purse. I was sure you had it under your coat.”
“You knew that Muriel came to the hotel and got it back?”
“Yes, of course. She told me you gave it to her.”
“Did she tell you what was in it?”
“No. What was in it?”
“Would you,” I asked abruptly, “be shocked to learn Muriel is an enemy agent?”
“Good heavens! She can’t be. Why, she’s just a young married woman who found out she made a mistake and—”
“And what does she live on?”
“I don’t know. She said she was looking for a job. I supposed she had some money — alimony, perhaps.”
I didn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting Lorraine get herself adjusted to the idea I’d given her. Then I said, “Just when did you meet Muriel?”
“A little over a week ago. She had an ad in the—”
“No, no. I mean tonight, after I left.”
She said, “I pretended to go back up to the second floor to the apartment. That was just to fool you and the clerk. Actually, I just took the elevator all the way up to the top floor, waited for five or ten minutes, then went back down and walked out.”
“The clerk was at the desk then?”
“No. No one was in the lobby.”
“Where did you go?”
“There’s a little tearoom down the block where Muriel usually drops in before she comes to the apartment to go to bed. I went there and waited, frightened stiff.”
“How long did you wait?”
“It seemed like ages.”
“But you don’t know exactly how long it was?”
“No. It was quite a while.”
“And she finally came in?”
“Oh, yes.”
“That was before she had been to see us?”
“No, afterward. She had her purse.”