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Half A Chance by Frederic S. Isham
page 214 of 258 (82%)




CHAPTER XIX

THE LAST SHIFT


The candle burned low; it threw now on grimy floor and wall the shadows
of the two men, one seated at the table, the other not far from it.
Before John Steele lay paper and ink, procured from some niche. He had
ceased writing; for the moment he leaned back, his vigilant gaze on the
figure near-by. From a corner of the room the rasping sound of a rat,
gnawing, broke the stillness, then suddenly ceased.

"Where were you on the night this woman, Amy Gerard, was found dead?"

A momentary expression of surprise, of alarm, crossed the bruised and
battered face; it was succeeded by an angry suspicion that glowed from
the evil eyes. "You're not trying to fix that job on---"

"You? No."

"Then what did you follow him here for, to pump me? The Yankee that got
transported is--"

"As alive as when he stepped before you in the ring!"

"Alive?" The fellow stared. "Not in England? It was death for him to
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