quick and interpose his four thousand miles.
It was not until they had docked and were walking from the pier that Corcoran was jerked sharply from his mood of rapture and despair by something that sharply recalled to him the incident of the morning. Directly in their path, as if waiting for them, stood the swarthy hunchback to whom the man in the shirt sleeves had pointed out their taxi. No sooner did he see them, however, than he stepped quickly aside and melted into a crowd. When they had passed, Corcoran turned back, as if for a last look at the boat, and saw in the sweep of his eye that the hunchback was pointing them out in his turn to still another man.
As they got into a taxi Mr Nosby broke the silence.
‘You’d better pack immediately,’ he said. ‘We’re leaving by motor for Palermo right after dinner.’
‘We can’t make it tonight,’ objected Hallie.
‘We’ll stop halfway.’
It was plain that he wanted to bring the trip to an end at the first possible moment. After dinner he asked Corcoran to come to the hotel garage with him while he engaged an automobile for the trip, and Corcoran understood that this was because Hallie and he were not to be left together. Nosby, in an ill-humor, insisted that the garage price was too high; finally he walked out and up to a dilapidated taxi in the street.
The taxi agreed to make the trip for twenty-five dollars.
‘I don’t believe this old thing will make the grade,’ ventured Corcoran. ‘Don’t you think it would be wiser to pay the difference and take the other car?’
Nosby stared at him, his anger just under the surface.
‘We’re not all like you,’ he said dryly. ‘We can’t all afford to throw it away.’
Corcoran took the snub with a cool nod.
‘Another thing,’ he said. ‘Did you get money from the bank this morning—or anything that would make you likely to be followed?’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded Nosby quickly.
‘Somebody’s been keeping pretty close track of our movements all day.’
Nosby eyed him shrewdly.
‘You’d like us to stay here in Naples a day or so more, wouldn’t you?’ he said. ‘Unfortunately, you’re not running this party. If you stay, you can stay alone.’
‘And you won’t take the other car?’
‘I’m getting a little weary of your suggestions.’
At the hotel, as the porters piled the bags into the high old-fashioned car, Corcoran was again possessed by a feeling of being watched. With an effort, he resisted the impulse to turn his head and look behind. If this was a product of his imagination, it was better to put it immediately from his mind.
It was already eight o’clock when they drove off into a windy twilight. The sun had gone behind Naples, leaving a sky of pigeon’s-blood and gold, and as they rounded the bay and climbed slowly toward Torre dell’ Annunziata, the Mediterranean momentarily toasted the fading splendor in pink wine. Above them loomed Vesuvius and from its crater a small persistent fountain of smoke contributed darkness to the gathering night.
‘We ought to reach our destination about twelve,’ said Nosby.
No one answered. The city had disappeared behind a rise of ground, and now they were alone, tracing down the hot mysterious shin of the Italian boot where the Mafia sprang out of rank human weeds and the Black Hand rose to throw its ominous shadow across two continents. There was something eerie in the sough of the wind over these gray mountains, crowded with the decayed castles. Hallie suddenly shivered.
‘I’m glad I’m American,’ she said. ‘Here in Italy I feel that everybody’s dead. So many people dead and all watching from up on those hills—Carthaginians and old Romans and Moorish pirates and medieval princes with poisoned rings—’
The solemn gloom of the countryside communicated itself to all of them. The wind had come up stronger and was groaning through the dark-massed trees along the way. The engine labored painfully up the incessant slopes and then coasted down winding spiral roads until the brakes gave out a burning smell. In the dark little village of Eboli they stopped for gasoline, and while they waited for their change another car came quickly out of the darkness and drew up behind.
Corcoran looked at it closely, but the lights were in his face and he could distinguish only the pale blots of four faces which returned his insistent stare. When the taxi had driven off and toiled a mile uphill in the face of the sweeping wind, he saw the lamps of the other car emerge from the village and follow. In a low voice he called Nosby’s attention to the fact whereupon Nosby leaned forward nervously and tapped on the front glass.
‘Piu presto!’ he commanded. ‘II sera sono tropo tarde!’
Corcoran translated the mutilated Italian and then fell into conversation with the chauffeur. Hallie had dozed off to sleep with her head on her mother’s shoulder. It might have been twenty minutes later when she awoke with a start to find that the car had stopped. The chauffeur was peering into the engine with a lighted match, while Corcoran and Mr Nosby were talking quickly in the road.
‘What is it?’ she cried.
‘He’s broken down,’ said Corcoran, ‘and he hasn’t got the proper tools to make the repair. The best thing is for all of you to start out on foot for Agropoli. That’s the next village—it’s about two miles away.’
‘Look!’ said Nosby uneasily. The lights of another car had breasted a rise less than a mile behind.
‘Perhaps they’ll pick us up?’ asked Hallie.
‘We’re taking no such chances,’ answered Corcoran. This is the special beat of one of the roughest gangs of holdup men in Southern Italy. What’s more, we’re being followed. When I asked the chauffeur if he knew that car that drove up behind us in Eboli, he shut right up. He’s afraid to say.’
As he spoke, he was helping Hallie and her mother from the car. Now he turned authoritatively to Nosby.
‘You better tell me what you got in that Naples bank.’
‘It was ten thousand dollars in English bank notes,’ admitted Nosby in a frightened voice.
‘I thought so. Some clerk tipped them off. Hand over those notes to me!’
‘Why should I?’ demanded Nosby. ‘What are you going to do with them?’
‘I’m going to throw them away,’ said Corcoran. His head went up alertly. The complaint of a motor car taking a hill in second speed was borne toward them clearly on the night. ‘Hallie, you and your mother start on with the chauffeur. Run as fast as you can for a hundred yards or so, and then keep going. If I don’t show up, notify the carabinieri in Agropoli.’ His voice sank lower. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to fix this thing. Good-by.’
As they started off he turned again to Nosby.
‘Hand over that money,’ he said.
“You’re
