"I always knew you'd throw me over if you found a chance, Lovely. You mean to enter your protege for Strongest, I suppose?"
"Certainly."
"And you believe he will be able to supplant the present incumbent?"
"I know he will!"
"Ah, well, I shan't despair. You may close the Pit now, but it can also be opened again after the contests. And what of these other prisoners?"
The woman laughed defiantly.
"They shall have their chance, too! Virty, I don't often question your decisions, do I? But this time I wish you to close your ugly old Pit and," with a glance of disdain, "not oblige Clever by reopening it."
Mr. Virtue glanced very dubiously toward the thin-lipped man. He appeared not at all enthusiastic. Mercy scowled.
"Don't forget me, please, Virty! I've a very personal interest in this execution, and even Lovely shan't do me out of it!"
"Oh, shut up, Mercy," broke in the woman impatiently. "I can imagine what your interest is. You're afraid this girl's brother won't let you have her. But the law is the law and they have their contest right. You never think of any one but yourself Virty, turn these people loose and I'll be responsible for their appearance Wednesday."
"Cleverest, are you going to stand for this?" demanded Mercy angrily.
But Cleverest, who had himself been eying Viola, now smiled a strange, fox-like, tight-lipped smile.
"Why not?" he asked simply. "If Lovely prefers the fellow's strength to my brains, what can I do but gracefully withdraw?"
The woman looked at him with a trace of suspicion.
"Such amiability is really touching, Clever. But I'll take you up on it. That thin chap can go in for Swiftest, I think, and as for the girl-" She frowned at Viola with a look of mingled dislike and reluctant admiration. "Oh, well," she finished, "the girl can enter the contest for Domestic Excellence."
Slapping his fat thigh, Virtue burst into a sudden roar of laughter.
"Splendid, Lovely! You have it all arranged, eh? Mercy, you and Cleverest are down and out! Take 'em-take your charming proteges, Lovely, my child; and shut up the Pit. Old War must go hungry to-night. And now you'll excuse me, Lovely. You've already made me miss at least one full course!"
"It would do you no harm to miss more than that," she retorted with a disparaging glance at his waist-line; but Virtue only chuckled without taking offense and hurried away.
CHAPTER 10: THE FOURTH VICTIM
THE three quondam prisoners, seated about a table where they had done full justice to an excellent repast, were alone. The scene about them was no longer of barbaric magnificence, but presented the more comfortable and familiar luxury of a good hotel. Lovely, or rather Loveliest, for such they had discovered the lady's full title to be, had done her work with surprising thoroughness and munificence. Having made herself responsible for their custody, she had ordered the two men freed, carried them all in her own motor car to a large hotel on South Broad Street, and there engaged for them a suite consisting of bedrooms, private baths and a large parlor.
Her exact standing in this new Philadelphia, so like the old and so unlike, was as yet unknown to them. So far as their needs were concerned, she seemed to possess a power of command practically unlimited.
The hotel in itself presented no apparent difference to any other large, metropolitan hostelry. Drayton, in fact, who had once before stopped at this identical hotel, could have sworn that even the furnishings were the same as upon his former visit. The clerk at the desk was perhaps a trifle too obsequious for a normal hotel clerk. Otherwise, their introduction had been attended by no bizarre circumstance. Having seen them comfortably established, having begged them to send out for anything they might require and have the price charged to "Penn Service"-that mysterious, ubiquitous Service again! — their odd protectress had assured Trenmore that she would look in on them early next day and departed.
The lady had whirled them so rapidly through this period of change in their fortunes that they had been able to ask no questions, and though she had talked almost incessantly, the monologue had conveyed little meaning. They found themselves continually bewildered by references, simple in themselves, and yet cryptic for lack of a key to them.
The conclusion of their late dinner, served in their own rooms, at least found them more comfortable than at any time since that fatal hour when the Cerberus was uncapped. If they were still under police surveillance, there was no evidence to show it. By common consent, however, they had abjured for the present any idea of escape. Precarious though their position might be, such an attempt in their state of ignorance was predoomed to failure.
The meal finished, and the servant having departed for the last time, Drayton asked a question which had been in the back of his head for two hours past.
"Miss Viola, what were you saying about Ulithia when Mercy interrupted? Before the pit was opened, I mean, while we stood beneath the Red Bell?"
"I remember. It was merely a notion of mine, Mr. Drayton."
"But tell it," urged her brother.
"When we meddled with that strange dust," the girl said softly, "I think we intruded upon that which was never meant for mortals. The White Weaver said it-she said we had no place in Ulithia. And she told us to go forward, go deeper, and that the door was open before us."
"Yes, she did," sighed Drayton.
"And so," continued the girl, "we escaped from Ulithia, but went forward. Just how far is what we have yet to discover."
"You mean," said the ex-lawyer slowly, "that some six hours ago by my watch-which has not been wound by the way, yet is still running-we practically stepped out of space and time as we know them into a realm where those words have no meaning? And that when we passed through the moon gate, we returned into space at almost the place from which we started, but into time at a point perhaps many years later?"
"Yes. You say it better than I, but that is what I believe."
Drayton shook his head, smiling. "Something like that occurred to me, Miss Viola, but the more I think of it the more impossible it seems."
"And why, Bobby?" queried Trenmore impatiently. "Sure, 'tis the only moderately reasonable explanation of all the unreasonability we have met!"
"Because if enough years had passed to so completely change the laws, the customs, even the value of human life, why is it that Time has left costumes, language, even buildings, except for City Hall, exactly as we have always known them? Why, this very hotel has not so much as changed the livery of its bell boys since I was here three years ago!"
"That is a difficulty," admitted Viola. Then she added quickly, "How very stupid I am! Terry, won't you ring for one of those same bell boys and ask him to bring us an evening paper?"
So obvious a source of information and so easily obtainable! Drayton and Trenmore sprang as one man for the push button. Just as they reached it, however, there came a loud crash, as of something heavy and breakable falling upon a bare floor. The sound issued from the bedroom assigned to Trenmore. A moment later that gentleman had flung open the door. The chamber within was dark, save for what light entered it from the parlor. Peering uncertainly, Trenmore stood poised for a moment. Then he had hurled himself through the doorway. There was another crash, this time of an overturned chair.
Drayton, following, ran his hand along the wall inside the door. An instant later he had thrown on the light. The illumination disclosed the Irishman clasping a kicking man to his bosom with both mighty arms. Though the fellow fought desperately, he might as well have contended with an Alaskan bear. Trenmore simply squeezed the tighter. The breath left the captive's lungs in a despairing groan, and he was tossed, limp as a wrung rag, upon the bed.