The Ghost Murders by Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson

Author:Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson [Grant, Maxwell & Gibson, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Espionage, Fiction, Thrillers
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1936-01-17T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIV. DIRK'S ULTIMATUM

BERT HAGREW was seated by the window of the third-story hide-out. The shade was drawn, almost without necessity; for darkness had set in upon the avenue, and the old houses across the street were unoccupied dwellings.

True, the elevated was rumbling incessantly below the hide-out window.

From car windows, people might have spied the lights in the room that Dirk and Bert were sharing. Yet from the upward angle, the occupants could not be seen. Hence the drawn blind was merely a proof that Dirk and Bert had grown wary beyond the limits of required precaution.

Bert was nervous as he studied the dial of a watch. It was close to seven o'clock. Dirk had gone downstairs at half past six, leaving his pal in charge of the hide-out. Bert had instructions not to leave; and he was becoming worried.

Bert started at the sound of footsteps. The door swung inward; the crook managed a grin as he saw Dirk enter. The murderer scowled as he saw the watch in his pal's hand.

"What's the idea, Bert?" queried Dirk. "Getting jittery? Say - you'd better get hold of yourself."

"Couldn't help it, Dirk," returned Bert. "I was out this afternoon, listening in at some place. The grapevine's got it that a dragnet's coming; and there's plenty of stoolies looking for you."

"You piped that line this afternoon," retorted Dirk. "It was on account of your spiel that we didn't shift to the hide-out over the hockshop."

"Then what did you go out of here for, half an hour ago? If you're keepin' out of sight, Dirk, you ought to -"

"I wasn't on the street. I was downstairs, in the parlor of this bum rooming house."

"Waiting for somebody to show up?"

Dirk eyed his companion shrewdly; then spoke.

"No," he growled. "I was waiting for a chance to make a phone call. When nobody was around."

"To Zarbrock?"

Again, Dirk looked hard at his pal.

"Say," he remarked, "it's bum stuff to go mentioning names, Bert. Just when did I tell you that Zarbrock was the big shot?"

"You said that Zarbrock -"

"You don't remember what I said. So let's forget what you thought I said. Anyway, I got word from the big shot. We're moving out of here - pronto."

Dirk strolled over and opened the table drawer. From it, he took the cigarette case that had once belonged to Pete Tarmagan. Pocketing the case, Dirk started to put on his coat and hat. He motioned for Bert to do the same.

"I thought we were staying away from the other hide-outs," protested Bert. "This afternoon, Dirk, you said that -"

"We're not going to any regular hideout," interrupted Dirk. "We're stepping out on a job. Be sure you've got your rod ready."

"A job?" Bert's eyes gleamed in anticipation; then the lanky crook twitched his lips. "But what about afterward, Dirk? When we've sprung the job? We'll have to duck under cover. That means a hide-out."

"We'll have one, Bert." Dirk's grin was hard. "The niftiest hide-out yet. One that the dragnet will never reach."

"But where -"

"Come along.

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