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CHAPTER VIII. THE ADVENTURES OF TOMMY

TAKEN aback though he was by the man's words, Tommy did not hesitate. If

audacity had successfully carried him so far, it was to be hoped it would carry

him yet farther. He quietly passed into the house and mounted the ramshackle

staircase. Everything in the house was filthy beyond words. The grimy paper, of a

pattern now indistinguishable, hung in loose festoons from the wall. In every

angle was a grey mass of cobweb.

Tommy proceeded leisurely. By the time he reached the bend of the staircase, he

had heard the man below disappear into a back room. Clearly no suspicion

attached to him as yet. To come to the house and ask for "Mr. Brown" appeared

indeed to be a reasonable and natural proceeding.

At the top of the stairs Tommy halted to consider his next move. In front of him

ran a narrow passage, with doors opening on either side of it. From the one

nearest him on the left came a low murmur of voices. It was this room which he

had been directed to enter. But what held his glance fascinated was a small

recess immediately on his right, half concealed by a torn velvet curtain. It was

directly opposite the left-handed door and, owing to its angle, it also commanded

a good view of the upper part of the staircase. As a hiding-place for one or, at a

pinch, two men, it was ideal, being about two feet deep and three feet wide. It

attracted Tommy mightily. He thought things over in his usual slow and steady

way, deciding that the mention of "Mr. Brown" was not a request for an

individual, but in all probability a password used by the gang. His lucky use of it

had gained him admission. So far he had aroused no suspicion. But he must

decide quickly on his next step.

Suppose he were boldly to enter the room on the left of the passage. Would the

mere fact of his having been admitted to the house be sufficient? Perhaps a

further password would be required, or, at any rate, some proof of identity. The

doorkeeper clearly did not know all the members of the gang by sight, but it

might be different upstairs. On the whole it seemed to him that luck had served

him very well so far, but that there was such a thing as trusting it too far. To

enter that room was a colossal risk. He could not hope to sustain his part

indefinitely; sooner or later he was almost bound to betray himself, and then he

would have thrown away a vital chance in mere foolhardiness.

A repetition of the signal knock sounded on the door below, and Tommy, his

mind made up, slipped quickly into the recess, and cautiously drew the curtain

The Secret Adversary