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Clue of the Gold Coin

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<h2>CHAPTER X The Torchlight Parade</h2> <hr class="divider2" /> IN THE STREET OUTSIDE IT HAD SUDDENLY GROWN dark, with the last, brilliant red rays of the setting sun bathing the housetops to the west in a crimson glow. The crowds in the street had become even heavier and noisier, and down at the end of the block, Vicki heard the blaring bands and saw the bobbing flames of the torches as the parade went by. She looked around frantically. How was she ever going to spot one man in this mad, confused throng? Then, down the block, moving in the direction of the parade, she saw a stocky figure, his black costume standing out in the sea of so many colorful costumes. He was pushing his way ruthlessly through the mass of people that jammed the street. She ran after him, stumbling, bumping into people, sometimes nearly falling, but never letting115 that broad, black back out of her sight. Then the man came to the corner, at the intersection of the cross street along which the noisy, colorful parade was passing. He slipped into the gay crowd of marchers and was lost to sight. She turned her head to look back over her shoulder. The tall figure of Raymond Duke, with his shiny bullfighter’s cap perched jauntily on his head, was moving rapidly in her direction. With a little gasp, Vicki ran to the passing line of marchers, and then she too was swallowed up by the parade. Now she was carried along by the merrymaking marchers like a chip of wood in a swift stream. Some groups were parading six or eight abreast, with clasped hands forming a barricade through which she could not pass. She dodged around them, squeezed between other marching couples, squirmed and twisted and tried to forge ahead through the slowly moving column. Now and then, just often enough to be sure he was in the stream of moving bodies ahead of her, she caught a swift glimpse of the black-robed pirate. Now and then she glanced behind her to see if Duke was following. If she could keep track of the man she was after by his black cloak, Raymond Duke would have no trouble keeping her blond hair in sight! At that moment the moving line of marchers ground to a slow stop. Just ahead was a float,116 standing still as its driver waited for the parade to move again. Looking up at the float, she saw Louise Curtin, wearing a white silk dress and a black lace mantilla over her dark hair, sitting on a throne of red and white flowers and waving to the people below her. “Louise! Louise! It’s me! Vicki! Right here below you!” Startled, Louise looked all around and then finally saw Vicki’s upturned face. She waved and shouted a greeting. “Louise! Your mantilla! May I have it please?” Louise didn’t seem to understand. “My—my mantilla?” “Oh, please, Louise!” Vicki reached up pleadingly. “I need your mantilla! Quick, Louise! Oh, please!” Louise’s eyes widened at the urgency in Vicki’s voice and the expression on her face. She whipped the lace from her head and handed it down to Vicki’s waiting fingers. Vicki quickly wrapped it around her bright blond hair and looked again, desperately, for the man in the black cloak. He was nowhere in sight, and her heart sank. Then, far up ahead, she caught sight of him. She elbowed her way through the stalled crowd, drawing angry glances from people that she was pushing rudely aside. She clutched the mantilla tightly around her throat as she ran and stumbled forward. No need117 to worry about Raymond Duke following her now! With the red dress and black head covering, she looked like any one of the thousand other girls in the great crowd. Once she saw the masked man turn hurriedly around and peer in her direction. Did he see her? With her identifying blond hair covered up, she didn’t think so. If only she could manage to move faster! One thing she was pretty sure of. He would stay in the parade. The heavy mass of costumes would be his best protective cover. Walking up one of the side streets by himself, he would be much too conspicuous. Then, once again, she caught sight of Duke’s tall figure. He was peering all around. But under the protection of her black mantilla, she felt safe. She turned her head away and plunged on. She didn’t dare look back again, lest Duke accidentally spot her face. Her breath was coming in painful gasps now, but she fought her way on, never taking her eyes from the pirate’s black cape and black hat. Then, half a block ahead of her, the moving parade seemed to be widening out, losing its marching form, the marchers spreading out and milling around in aimless circles like a thin stream of water that has suddenly flowed into a round, cuplike pool. The floats ahead of her stopped, some of them pulling out of line. Obviously this was the end of the route. The parade118 was breaking up. The black-clad figure was forever lost in the surging eddy of human figures. Vicki found herself pushed up against an iron fence that surrounded a statue. She clung to it while she caught her breath. All around her, groups of people went off arm in arm. Musicians from the bands strode by carrying their instruments under their arms, or occasionally pausing to blow out a wild note in sheer exuberance. Vicki felt lost, discouraged and alone. Then she took stock of the situation she was in, and reflected on the wild chase of the last half hour. Supposing she had caught up with the black-robed pirate? Suppose he had suddenly stopped and confronted her? What could she have said? Would she have pulled the mask from his face? As she was thus lost in thought, a cheerful voice behind her said: “Vicki!” She turned around. It was Louise. “Hi there, Vic! How do you like our Gasparilla Parade?” Vicki managed a grin. “I wouldn’t want to be in one every day.” She took the black lace from her head. “Thanks for the use of your mantilla.” Louise frowned as she took the shawl. “Back there a while ago, when you asked me for this, you seemed—well, almost desperate. Was anything wrong, Vic?” “I guess maybe my face was showing my excitement.” Vicki laughed, passing the incident119 off lightly. “I guess I sort of felt out of place without a costume.” “I don’t blame you,” Louise said, forgetting the incident. “Now let’s go join Daddy and Nina at the Spanish Park.” The meal was a gay one. Louise and Nina laughed and talked about the parade, and Mr. Curtin told funny stories about the antics of the members of Ye Mystic Krewe. Vicki joined in the gaiety, but her mind was far away—seeing the frightened old violinist in front of Duke’s house; Duke, Eaton-Smith, and the masked pirate whispering in the little room and startled at her appearance; the pirate running away from her in the crowd; and finally, Duke appearing to follow her. “You’re very quiet this evening, Vicki,” Mr. Curtin remarked on the drive home. “She’s tired,” Louise said. “Don’t forget she had a long trip down from New York today.” When they arrived at the house, Mrs. Tucker was there before them. “A messenger just delivered this for you, Miss Vicki,” she said, handing over a large manila envelope. Vicki took the envelope and continued on her way to her room to wash up. Inside the room, she opened the flap and pulled out the contents. They consisted of the skull-and-crossbones insignia crudely cut from the front of a cardboard pirate’s hat, like the one the masked man had120 been wearing tonight, and a crudely penciled note: <blockquote> “Airline-hostess work is safe! Stick to it! Keep out of things that don’t concern you! This is a solemn warning!” </blockquote> A cold hand gripped her heart. <hr class="divider" /> 121</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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