Then Deede Dawson must have been here a moment or two ago and must
have gone in a hurry. That could only mean he was aware of Rupert's
return and was warned and suspicious. It is perhaps characteristic
of Rupert's passionate and eager temperament that only now did it
occur to him that he was quite unarmed and that without a weapon of
any kind he was matching himself against as reckless and as
formidable a criminal as had ever lived.
For want of anything better he picked up the heavy glass inkpot
standing on the table, emptied the contents in a puddle on the floor,
and held the inkpot itself ready in his hand.
He listened intently, but heard no sound--no sound at all in the
whole house, and this increased his apprehensions, for he knew well
that Deede Dawson was a man always the most dangerous when most
silent.
It was possible of course that he had fled, but not likely. He
would not go, Rupert thought, till he had made his preparations
and not without a last effort to take revenge on those who had
defeated him and in this dramatic way turned the mate he had
expected to secure into a win for his opponent.
Still Rupert listened intently, straining his ears to catch the
least sound to hint to him where his enemy was, for he knew that if
he failed to discover him his first intimation of his proximity
might well come in the shape of the white-hot sting of a bullet,
rending flesh and bone.
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