"I can manage to take care of myself all right,
I think, but I want to know who you are."
"H-ssh!" muttered Dunn. "Not so loud."
"There was a fellow made an attack on me one night a little while
ago," Clive went on unheedingly. "You remind me of him somehow.
I don't think I trust you, my man. I think you had better come
along to the police with me."
But Dunn's sharp ears had caught the sound of the house door
opening cautiously, and he guessed that Deede Dawson had taken
the alarm and was creeping out to see who invaded so late at night
the privacy of his garden.
"Clear out quick! Quiet! If you want to go on living. I'll stop
them from following if I can. If you make the least noise you're
done for."
Most likely the man they had seen in his company would be with him,
and both of them would be armed. Neither Clive nor Dunn had a
weapon, and Dunn saw the danger of the position and took the only
course available.
"Go," he whispered fiercely into Clive's ear.
CHAPTER XV
THE SOUND OF A SHOT
He melted away into the darkness as he spoke, and through the night
he slipped, one shadow more amongst many, from tree to bush, from
bush to tree. Across a patch of open grass he crawled on his hands
and knees; and once lay flat on his face when against the skyline
he saw a figure he was sure was Deede Dawson's creep by a yard or
two on his right hand.
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