Shivering, as if from a mighty chill, although the night was
warm, he stalked down from his perch and went swiftly up the street, a
gaunt, broad-shouldered figure whose step seemed to suggest purpose
more than stealth.
As he slunk past the approach to a basement hard-by, a stealthy figure
slipped out from the recess and kept pace with him, not twenty feet
behind. A block farther up the street this second watcher quickened
his pace. He came alongside the man ahead.
"Hello, Brad," fell upon the ears of the stalked. He betrayed no
surprise, no sign of alarm. He did not check his pace, nor look
around.
"Confound you, Dick," he said, as if pronouncing sentence, "if you
don't quit dogging me like this I'll kill you, so help me God."
"You might have known I'd be somewhere around," said the other
quietly. They were now side by side, gaunt, slouching figures, both of
them.
"I thought I'd given you the slip."
"Umph," was the expressive comment.
"What did you follow me over here to-night for?" demanded Braddock
fiercely, after thirty steps.
"You know why, Brad. Don't ask."
"This is my affair," went on the big man.
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