His fingers were plucking at the frayed edge of his inside vest pocket.The dark eyes seemed to turn coal-black.A laugh, like the laugh of one damned, rose to his lips, and was choked back.It was gone! GONE! That thin metal case, like a cigarette case, that, between the little sheets of oil paper, held those diamond-shaped, gray-coloured, adhesive seals, the insignia of the Gray Seal--was gone! Clew! It seemed as though there were an overpowering nausea upon him.CLEW! That little case was not a clew--it was a death warrant!
His hands clenched fiercely.If he could only think for a moment!
The lining of his pocket had given away.The case had dropped out.
But there was nothing about the case to identify any one as the Gray Seal unless it were found in one's actual possession.Therefore Whitey Mack, to have solved his identity, must have seen him drop the case.There could be no question about that.It was equally obvious then that Whitey Mack would know the Gray Seal as Larry the Bat.Did he also know him as Jimmie Dale? Yes, or no? It was a vital question.His life hung on it.
That keen, facile brain, numbed for the moment, was beginning to work with lightning speed.It was four o'clock that afternoon when he had assumed the character of Larry the Bat--some time between four o'clock and the present, it was now well after eleven, the case had dropped from his pocket.There had been ample time then for Whitey Mack to have made that appointment with Lannigan--and ample time to have made a surreptitious visit to the Sanctuary.Had Whitey Mack gone there? Had Whitey Mack found that hiding place in the flooring under the oilcloth? Had Whitey Mack discovered that the Gray Seal was not only Larry the Bat--but Jimmie Dale?
Jimmie Dale swept his hand across his forehead.It was damp from little clinging beads of moisture.Should he go to the Sanctuary and change--become Jimmie Dale again? Was it the safest thing to do--or the most dangerous? Even if Whitey Mack had been there and discovered the dual personality of Larry the Bat, how would he, Jimmie Dale, know it? The man would have been crafty enough to have left no sign behind him.Was it to the Sanctuary that Whitey Mack meant to lead Lannigan that evening--or did Whitey Mack know him as Jimmie Dale, and to make it the more sensational, plan to carry out the coup, say, at the St.James Club? Whitey Mack and Lannigan were still at Bristol Bob's; he had probably time, if he so elected, to reach the Sanctuary, change, and get away again.But every minute was priceless now.What should he do? Run from the city as he was for cover--or take the gambler's chance? Whitey Mack knew him as Larry the Bat--it was not certain that Whitey Mack knew him as Jimmie Dale.
He had halted, absorbed, in front of a moving-picture theatre.
Great placards, at first but a blur of colour, suddenly forced themselves in concrete form upon his consciousness.Letters a foot high leaped out at him: "THE DOUBLE LIFE." There was the picture of a banker in his private office hastily secreting a forged paper as the hero in the guise of a clerk entered; the companion picture was the banker in convict stripes staring out from behind the barred doors of a cell.There seemed a ghastly augury in the coincidence.
Why should a thing like that be thrust upon him to shake his nerve when he needed nerve now more than he had ever needed it in his life before?
He raised his hand to jerk aimlessly at the brim of his hat, dropped his hand abruptly to his side again, and started quickly, hurriedly away through the throng around him.A sort of savagery had swept upon him.In a flash he had made his decision.He would take the gambler's chance! And afterward--Jimmie Dale's lips were like a thin, straight line--it was Whitey Mack's life or his own! Whitey Mack had said he was the only one that was wise--and Whitey Mack had not told Lannigan yet, wouldn't tell Lannigan until the show-down.
If he, Jimmie Dale, got to the Sanctuary, became Jimmie Dale and got away again, even if Whitey Mack knew him as Jimmie Dale, there was still a chance.It was his life or Whitey Mack's--Whitey Mack, with his lean-jawed, clean-shaven wolf's face! If he could get Whitey Mack before the other was ready to tell Lannigan! Surely he had the right of self-preservation! Surely his life was as valuable as Whitey Mack's, as valuable as a man's who, as those in the secrets of the underworld knew well enough, had blood upon his hands, who lived by crime, who was a menace to the community! Had he not the right to preserve his own life at the expense of one such as that?
He had never taken life--the thought was abhorrent! But was there any other way in event of Whitey Mack knowing him as Jimmie Dale?
His back was against the wall; he was trapped; certain death, and, worse, dishonour stared him in the face.Lannigan and Whitey Mack would be together--the odds would be two to one against him--and he had no quarrel with Lannigan--somehow he must let Lannigan out of it.