III. THE TRAIL

A short dash brought me to the end of the block; the side street was not so
dark, and after I had crossed this open space I glanced backward.

Soon I sped into a wan circle of light, and, reaching a door upon which was
a hotel sign, I burst in. Chairs were scattered about a bare office; a man
stirred on a couch, and then sat up, blinking.

"I'm afraid--I believe some one's chasing me," I said.

He sat there eying me, and then drawled, sleepily:

"Thet ain't no call to wake a feller, is it?"

The man settled himself comfortably again, and closed his eyes.

"Say, isn't this a hotel? I want a room!" I cried.

"Up-stairs; first door." And with that the porter went to sleep in good
earnest.

I made for the stairs, and, after a backward look into the street, I ran
up. A smelly lamp shed a yellowish glare along a hall. I pushed open the
first door, and, entering the room, bolted myself in. Then all the strength
went out of my legs. When I sat down on the bed I was in a cold sweat and
shaking like a leaf. Soon the weakness passed, and I moved about the room,