CHAPTER XXVIII
THE COUNTER-FORCES
McKinnon's cry of thankfulness was cut short by an exclamation from the girl at his side as the car rocked and swayed along the uneven pier-track.
"Look!" she gasped. "They are closing the gates ahead of us! They are shutting us in!"
McKinnon peered through the darkness. He could see a number of moving lights; they shifted about through the gloom, small and restless, like fire-flies. He could also make out the shadowy lines of a building or two. Where the track ran between these buildings, at the end of the pier, a white-painted wooden gate had been swung and locked across the rails to stop the car. He could see the light from the restlessly moving lanterns refracted from its painted slats, from the swords of the officers and the rifles of the waiting soldiers.
He knew what it meant, but it was too late for half-measures. With the quickness of
306
