Read Online The Trail of Fear by Anthony Armstrong - Free Book Online

Sam’s whisper. “That was close.”
    But Rezaire was feeling too sick to answer. All his courage had been shaken out of him by the accident. He could bluff the police and take the wildest risks in making an escape without turning a hair, but this was different. In one case the stakes were but prison for so many years; in the other they were lingering pain and death.
    He stayed there a bit longer while the life crept back into his aching arms, rejoicing at the feeling of something solid between him and the ground. Out of the roof a small dormer, one of a line of similar windows, thrust itself, only a foot or so from the gutter edge, with a small gabled roof at right angles to the main slope and it was astride this, facing inward, that he found himself. He was perfectly safe and hidden from the police on the far side, but—he could not get up again. Above him the main roof sloped up to where Sam crouched, but it was far too steep and slippery to crawl up and without a rope Sam could not help him. Also his pursuers were on the other side and that way lay capture. It seemed he was trapped.
    Sam’s whisper came to him again.
    â€œYou all right?” it queried. “What are you going to do?”
    Before he could answer, there came a sudden shout and a sharp challenge somewhere away to his left, followed by the sound of feet on the leads.
    â€œThat’s Harrap for certain,” called down Sam in low tones. Then a moment later: “The damn fool’s running this way. They’ll see me.”
    â€œCome down here.”
    â€œHow’ll I get up?”
    â€œDon’t know. You’ll be caught if you don’t.”
    The sound of feet approached. A voice shouted urgently to one “Lacey” to look out.
    Sam swiftly made his mind up, swung himself over, and judging his position, let himself slide. Both feet, however, went to one side of the gable and he only saved himself from plunging onward by throwing his arms across the ridge. As he helped him to safety, Rezaire marveled at the coolness and courage of the man. Not for a thousand pounds would he have taken that risk of his own free will, but Sam had not seemed to give it a thought.
    Together they sat astride the small dormer roof and listened to the sounds of pursuit and the shouts in the central dip between the pitches.
    Then suddenly clear and sharp came the crack of an automatic and the sound of a cry. The running stopped for an instant and a whistle blew.
    â€œThe fool!” muttered Rezaire. “They’ll shoot now.”
    As if in answer came two more reports and quite close it seemed to them a man’s cautious “Aim low, boys!”
    â€œGee! Harrap’s going to make a Sydney Street business of it,” muttered Sam excitedly, but Rezaire only repeated: “The fool!”
    From where they were they could hear the fight, though with the whole roof between them they could see nothing.
    After the two shots there was silence for a space.
    â€œHarrap’s hiding somewhere and they’re stalking him,” was Sam’s comment.
    Then came a sudden shout and four more shots in rapid succession. One bullet hit something on the top of the roof; they heard the hum of it above their heads and a little chip of tile struck Rezaire on the arm. They heard a faint groaning somewhere above.
    Then within a few seconds there came a quick rush of feet further over on the right, another shot, a muffled cry, and a metallic clatter. Then a hum of voices.
    â€œThey’ve got him,” said Sam. “He hadn’t much of a chance up there.”
    â€œHe’ll be lucky if he gets off hanging,” added Rezaire.
    â€œWhat are we going to do anyway? We can’t sit here forever and we can’t get up again.”
    â€œI’ve got an idea,” whispered back Rezaire. “While that show was going on I looked over the edge here. This attic window, the roof of which we’re on, is open. We