“Stay where you are until he passes,” hissed my companion, below. “There is a row of kegs under you.”
The sound of the motor passing outside grew loud--louder--then began to die away. I felt about with my left foot; discerned the top of a keg, and dropped, panting, beside Smith.
“Phew!” I said--“that was a close thing! Smith--how do we know--”
“That we have followed the right car?” he interrupted. “Ask yourself the question: what would any ordinary man be doing motoring in a place like this at two o’clock in the morning?”
“You are right, Smith,” I agreed. “Shall we get out again?”
He grasped my arm, turning me in the desired direction.
Beyond a great expanse of unbroken darkness a ray of moonlight slanted into the place wherein we stood, spilling its cold radiance upon rows of kegs.
“That’s another door,” continued my friend--I now began dimly to perceive him beside me. “If my calculations are not entirely wrong, it opens on a wharf gate--”
A steam siren hooted dismally, apparently from quite close at hand.
“I’m right!” snapped Smith. “That turning leads down to the gate. Come on, Petrie!”
He directed the light of the electric torch upon a narrow path through the ranks of casks, and led the way to the further door. A good two feet of moonlight showed along the top. I heard Smith straining; then--
“These kegs are all loaded with grease!” he said, “and I want to reconnoiter over that door.”
“I am leaning on a crate which seems easy to move,” I reported. “Yes, it’s empty. Lend a hand.”
We grasped the empty crate, and between us, set it up on a solid pedestal of casks. Then Smith mounted to this observation platform and I scrambled up beside him, and looked down upon the lane outside.
It terminated as Smith had foreseen at a wharf gate some six feet to the right of our post. Piled up in the lane beneath us, against the warehouse door, was a stack of empty casks. Beyond, over the way, was a kind of ramshackle building that had possibly been a dwelling-house at some time. Bills were stuck in the ground-floor window indicating that the three floors were to let as offices; so much was discernible in that reflected moonlight.
I could hear the tide, lapping upon the wharf, could feel the chill from the river and hear the vague noises which, night nor day, never cease upon the great commercial waterway.