Read Online The Last Drive by Rex Stout - Free Book Online

about, but the arms held him in a grip of steel. The unknown, left free, stirred and turned, lifting himself to his knees; there he stopped for a moment, swaying as if dazed, then hastily scrambled to his feet. Young Adams was calling to him quietly:
    â€œGet in the car, Gil, and beat it. Quick! Come on, pull yourself together! Beat it, I say! You might have known—I’ll phone you in the morning. Lay low till you hear from me.”
    The unknown lost no time, nor wasted breath in speech. For a second he stood uncertainly in the attitude of a man who asks “Where am I?” then turned without a word and staggered to the roadster and pulled himself in. The engine was still running. A jerk of a lever, and the car leaped forward into the night.
    Harry waited till the red light had completely disappeared in the darkness, then released his hold on the detective and stepped aside.
    â€œI’m sorry, sir—”
    Rankin made no reply. He was feeling gingerly about his shoulder for broken bones, and moving his arm cautiously up and down. It seemed to work all right. Now that the passion of battle was leaving him, he felt a little silly as he looked at the young man standing there quietly before him in the peaceful moonlight.
    â€œWho the deuce is Gil?” he asked abruptly.
    Then as Harry hesitated with his reply the detective looked at his watch, shook himself together and brushed the dust from his clothing.
    â€œNearly one o’clock,” he observed. “No use standing here. Let’s get back to Greenlawn. You can tell me about it on the way.”
    So it was as they trudged back along the moonlit country road, side by side, that Harry explained. Until they reached the border of the village he was silent, and when he began to speak his words came jerkily.
    â€œI’ll have to tell you about it, I suppose,” he said slowly, “so you’ll understand my position. Not that there’s anything really wrong about it as far as I’m concerned, but I—well, I’m not very proud of it.”
    They walked on a moment in silence, then he continued:
    â€œGil—Gil Warner—was a classmate of mine at college. He did me a mighty good turn one night—in fact he saved my life and more, too. But that hasn’t anything to do with the worst part of the business—that is, my worst part—the beginning.
    â€œI never really liked Gil, but I was under a great obligation to him, so when he came to New York I saw more or less of him—got him invited places and so on. Finally, about four months ago, he started after me to go in on a stock speculation with him. At first I wouldn’t listen, but he talked it up and it really sounded good. He wanted me to interest Uncle Carson in it, and at length I consented; but I didn’t have much success. Uncle looked into it a little and turned it down cold; said it wasn’t worth a cent.”
    â€œDid the Colonel meet Warner?” the detective put in.
    â€œNo. I didn’t mention Gil’s name. Then Gil got after me to go in on my own hook. You know, I have— had —about a hundred thousand left me by father, in good securities. I refused twenty times, but he kept after me, and at last I gave in. That’s where I was a blanked ass. But it really looked good to me. I went to Mr. Mawson—”
    â€œWhat did you go to Mawson for?”
    â€œHe handled things for me. He has since father’s death. I told him all about it, and he agreed to help me realize on the securities without telling uncle. I got it and put it all in United Traffic.
We—”
    â€œIn what?”
    â€œUnited Traffic. What’s the matter? Oh, you’ve heard how it blew up, of course. I said I was a blanked ass.”
    The detective had stopped short with an expression of surprise on his face. Now he whistled a little, as the surprise deepened into perplexity.
    â€œYes, I’ve heard how it blew up,”