Truxton King

"The docks!" she whispered. "We struck a small scow, I think. Can you find your way in among the coal barges?"

He paddled along slowly, feeling his way, scraping alongside the big barges which delivered coal from the distant mines to the docks along the river front. At last he found an opening and pushed through. A moment later they were riding under the stern of a broad, cargoless barge, plumb up against the water-lapped piles of the dock.

Standing in the bow of the boat he managed to pull himself up over the slippery edge. It was the work of a second to draw her up after him. With an oar which he had thought to remove beforehand, he gave the boat a mighty shove, sending it out into the stream once more.

Then, hand in hand, they edged slowly, carefully along the gravel-strewn dock, between vast piles of lumber and steep walls of coal. It was only necessary to find the railway company's runways leading into the yards above; in time of peace there was little likelihood that the entrances to the dock would be closed, even at night.

Loud curses came up from the river, proclaiming the fact that the pursuers had found the empty boat. Afterwards they were to learn that "Newport's" shouts had brought a boatload of men from the opposite bank, headed by the innkeeper, in whose place Loraine was to have encountered Marlanx later on, if plans had not miscarried. She was to have remained in this outside inn until after the sacking of the city on the following day. The girl translated one remark that came up to them from the boatload of pursuers: "The old man is waiting back there. He'll kill the lot of us if we don't bring the girl."

By this time King had located the open space which undoubtedly afforded room for the transfer of cargoes from the dock to the company's yards inside the walls. Without hesitation he drew her after him up this wide, sinister roadway. They stumbled on over the rails of the "dummy track," collided with collier trucks, slipped on the soggy chutes, but all the while forged ahead toward the gates that so surely lay above them.

The pursuers were trying for a landing, noisily, even boisterously. It struck Truxton as queer that these men were not afraid of alarming the watchmen on the docks or the man at the gate above. Suddenly it came to him that there would be no one there to oppose the landing of the miscreants. No doubt hundreds of men already had stolen through these gates during the night, secreting themselves in the fastnesses of the city, ready for the morrow's fray. It is no small wonder that he shuddered at the thought of it.