Death and the Arrow Read Online Free PDF Page A

yes,” said Purney, peeling back a little of the wrapping paper with a grin. “That all seems to be in order; my thanks to your father. Let me get your money, Master Marlowe. . . .” He made a great show of bringing out the bag of money in payment for the printing. Given the nature of many of the visitors to Newgate, this was downright dangerous, and Tom could not rid himself of the idea that the old devil did it on purpose.
    Intentional or not, Tom lost no time in quitting Purney’s company and set off toward Ludgate Hill, throwing anxious glances over his shoulder as he did so. But no one followed him and gradually he breathed more freely and slowed his pace, smiling at his own nervousness. “Blast that old crow Purney,” he muttered to himself.
    Suddenly a hand shot out from an alleyway and dragged him sideways from the street. He tried to call out, but the hand clamped across his mouth and a voice near him hissed, “Hush, Tom!” It was Will.
    “I wish you’d stop doing that!” whispered Tom when his friend took his hand away. “Where have you been, anyway?”
    But Will was barely listening. He was shooting fevered glances this way and that, like a bird that fears the cat’s pounce. When he looked back at Tom, his eyes were wild. “I’m a dead man, Tom. As sure as if I was in my shroud,” he hissed.
    “Will?” said Tom. “What’s happened? Is it Hitchin?”
    “Ain’t got time to tell, Tom. But I’m dead, you have my word on it.”
    “But, Will—” started Tom. Will cut him off and handed him a leather purse, fat with coins.
    “See me buried proper, Tom. I ain’t got no one else,” he whispered, a tear tumbling down his cheek.
    “No!” said Tom. “There must be something we can do, whatever the trouble is—”
    “There ain’t nothing!” spat Will. “You got to swear to me, Tom, for friendship’s sake. A coffin. I don’t want those anatomizers carving me up like a goose.” He was sobbing now. “Swear it, Tom, I’m begging you!”
    “I swear, Will,” said Tom, crying himself now.
    “That’s settled, then,” said Will, suddenly calm. “And now I must bid you good day, Master Marlowe. . . .”
    “No, Will. Let’s go to my father . . . or to Dr. Harker—”
    Will suddenly lunged at Tom, grabbed him by his collar, and stared into his face. “No one can help me, Tom! No one!” He held up a card in front of Tom’s face. Grimy and dog-eared though it was, it still clearly showed a figure of Death holding an arrow.
    Tom gasped. “Will! Where did you get that? Those murders, Will . . .”
    “Don’t say you have me down as a murderer now, Tom?” said Will with a weak smile. “No, I ain’t killed no one and it ain’t Jack Ketch’s noose I’m feared of, neither.”
    “Then what?”
    “Don’t ask, Tom. No good could come of you knowing any more, I swear. . . .” Once again, Will became calm, and he grabbed Tom in a tight embrace. “Remember me,” he whispered, and turned to walk away. Tom tried to stop him, but Will shrugged him off. “Promise you’ll see me buried right, Tom, and then let me go. I wouldn’t want you hurt for all the world, and death is catching. . . .”
    With that, he bolted away as only he could, vanishing into the city he knew so well, leaving Tom standing forlornly in the alleyway, his face wet with Will’s tears and his own.

ANOTHER STRANGE MURDER
    It was dark by the time Tom reached Dr. Harker’s house, and the lamps were lit. Tom could think of nowhere else to turn, so he hammered wildly on the doctor’s door with his fist. “Dr. Harker!” he yelled. “Dr. Harker!”
    An angry maid opened the door and told him crossly that her master was not at home.
    “Where is he? I have to find him!”
    “Be off with you,” she said. “And come back tomorrow when the doctor is at home.”
    “You know me!” shouted Tom. “I’ve been here many times. I need to see the doctor now!”
    Something in the desperate way he said it softened the