Read Online Beware the Young Stranger by Ellery Queen - Free Book Online Page B

giant spreading oak. He dropped in a crouch, hands spread on the rough bark.
    He recognized the Continental as it surged past. John Vallancourt was driving. He wasn’t sure how many people were in the car. Three, he thought. At least one man in the suicide seat, and an impression of another in the rear.
    Howard Conway and Ralph Hibbs, he decided.
    Join you for golf, fellows? A smile twisted Keith’s mouth as the taillights of the car dwindled.
    His grim humor was brief. He was again in motion. Vallancourt and his cronies would go to the lodge, look around and, when they found the place deserted, return this way.
    She’ll meet them head on, he thought. I’ve got to reach her before that happens.
    Off the road, underbrush and rough stony terrain impeded his progress. He slipped to the edge of the road, looked back. The taillights of the Continental were far down the lake, almost to the driveway, he judged. Even if they looked down the road from there, at this distance they wouldn’t see him.
    Keeping to the side of the road, he moved at a ground-eating pace, loose and loping, getting his second wind and breathing through his nose.
    He reached the woodland, stumbled over a shallow pothole in the shoulder of the road. Still no sign of Nancy’s compact. Had Vallancourt and the others left the cottage yet?
    His lungs began to pain at last, and he had to stop for a brief rest. He gulped deeply. Then he saw giant fireflies through the trees. Up around the next curve.
    He stepped out into the middle of the road, gambling that he had correctly identified the sewing machine-like whirr of the small sedan’s engine.
    He began waving his arms as the headlight glow enveloped him. The sedan stopped, and he ran over to it. Nancy’s face was white mist under her blonde hair.
    â€œKeith …”
    â€œMove over,” he said, “quick.”
    He opened the door of the car and threw himself under the wheel. His body slammed against hers. She slid over.
    â€œHey,” she said with a taut laugh. “I’m making mush of these hamburgers I got at the drive-in.”
    â€œNever mind that. Listen!”
    He had turned off the headlights and engine. Nancy pulled the bag of hamburgers from between herself and the door.
    â€œKeep it quiet, can’t you?” he snarled.
    Her face snapped toward him, shocked. “Keith …”
    â€œFor God’s sake, shut up!”
    She eased back in the seat, suddenly pressing away from him, from his voice, so cold and hostile.
    He poked his head out. Down below the trees, the lake was an effective sonar, catching and echoing all sound.
    â€œOh, God,” he chattered, “they’re coming!”
    â€œWho, Keith?”
    â€œYour father and a couple of other men. Maybe a carload of them.”
    He knew there was no chance of getting the sedan turned around and beating the Continental in a race. He kicked the parking release, threw in the clutch. The sedan began to roll forward. He set the ignition key and put the gear shift to the third position. When the sedan had rolled several yards, he slipped the clutch out. The engine caught without the grinding of the starter.
    Through the foliage he was now able to see the big car’s headlights. How far away were they? Second or third curve?
    He felt naked, disarmed, on the narrow road. Underbrush on either side formed hemming barriers.
    He tried to unroll a mental map. The cottage belonging to the Florida people … Harkleroad, that was their name!… right after this next curve …
    Or the curve after? The one that would put him in full view of the approaching Continental?
    He kicked at the accelerator. The sedan shot forward.
    He followed the heavy darkness of the trees and thickets, headlights off. Come on ! A century later, there was a break in the dense shadows, a lighter patch, the gravel of a driveway twisting up behind the dark house.
    Keith twisted the wheel, sending the