ADAM DUKE’S METHODS.
As if Duke had guessed the boy’s thoughts, he broke into a harsh laugh.
Had it been light, the boy would have been able to see the yellow,
puckered skin about the man’s nervous jowls quiver with merriment.
“I don’t forget easily,” he chuckled, “and when I saw you in Camwell,
everything came back to me. I’m telling you all this so that any time
you feel inclined to get into trouble with me again you’ll think twice.”
“Well?” demanded Jack, face downward in the dusty patch of cleared
ground among the rank growth of weeds.
“You don’t recall seeing me at the bank, I guess?”
“I certainly do not. I should otherwise have been on guard against
you,” was the indignant reply.
“As if a lad like you could match me in craftiness! Well, I was in
the bank to deposit some funds of the Camwell Steel Company. It may
interest you to know that I am now their trusted employee and chemical
expert. I saw you and recognized you, though you did not, of course,
recall me, for since our encounter, you see, I wear a beard.”
From Jack’s position he could not see this, but he fully recognized
the fact that to escape the vigilance of the authorities Duke must
have disguised himself, for full descriptions of him had been sent
out, following the outrage committed on Mr. Dancer. He said nothing,
however, and Duke resumed.
“I’m telling you this to flaunt you. To show you what a fool a lad who
thinks himself smart can prove to be. I heard you draw your money at
the bank, and slipped into another machine, a small car belonging to
the company.
“I saw you talking in low voices and then, as you rounded a corner
beyond which was a factory blank wall, I saw you place the money in
your shoes. Of course I was out of the machine then, but I guessed what
you were going to do and hid behind a big pile of steel rails. Maybe
you recall seeing them? Or were you too busy transferring your bills?”
Jack did indeed recall now the pile of steel rails, rusted and
neglected, lying piled against the factory wall. The place had appeared
deserted, for he had given it careful scrutiny for signs of life
before he and Tom produced their money and transferred it to its new
abiding place. How he wished now that he had looked behind that pile of
rails!
“So now that you see there is no use of trying evasion with me, I’ll
have Blinky and Duggan take off your shoes and relieve you of your
wealth. It’s too much coin for a young chap like you to have, anyhow.”
At this stroke of humor the two individuals mentioned broke into a
harsh laugh. In fact, they appeared to think it the best joke in the
world. As for Jack, in his bitter chagrin, he said nothing. If only
they had taken out the money the last thing before they left town, he
thought. But then he recalled, as a partial palliation of his bitter
feelings, that the bank had closed long before they could, by any
possibility, have concluded the marketing for their voyage.
He felt Blinky and his companion draw off his shoes and rifle them of
his money.
“Now the other,” ordered Duke.
“All right, boss, but I guess he’ll give less trouble than this kid,”
growled Blinky.
“You mean that you hit him pretty hard?”
“Well, so hard that he wasn’t saying nothing when I left him,” was the
brutal reply.
Jack’s flesh crept. Could they mean that Tom, bravely defending
himself, had been badly hurt by this ruffian? But the next minute he
experienced at least some partial measure of relief.
“Don’t be scared, boss,” (Duke’s face must have looked anxious in
the yellow lantern light), “it was just a love tap; but young
whippersnappers like him ain’t used to such.”
“Well, get the money and then bring it here,” ordered Duke.
As he spoke, Jack caught the sound of the rustle of bills. Evidently
then the money had been transferred to Duke for division with his
satellites later. The footsteps of Blinky and Duggan could be heard
trampling off in the brush.
“What are they going to do with us?” Jack wondered. “Poor old Tom,” was
his next thought, “knocked down—and—out by that rascal! I wish I was
free, although,” he admitted with a sigh, “I couldn’t do much against
this bunch.”
Suddenly the boy heard a slight spatter on the dusty ground in front of
him.
“Confound it, rain coming up,” he heard Duke explain to himself.
Then the man who stood over Jack’s recumbent form must have looked up
at the sky.
“We’re going to get a storm, too,” Jack heard him mutter.
The drops began to fall faster and faster. Out of the distance came a
low growl of thunder.
“Hurry up!” Jack heard Duke urge. “Bring that other kid here and tie
him. We’ll put ’em both in that old barn. They’re too young to get wet
and it is going to be a sharp storm.”
“All right, boss,” came back Blinky’s voice, “we’ve got the money.”
“Well, you know what to do with it. Bring it here,” responded Duke
peremptorily.
“You ain’t going to forget us, boss?” came in Duggan’s voice.
“Not likely; when I told you to follow me from the factory and help in
this little job I knew I’d have to pay you to keep your mouths shut.”
“Oh, all right! All right!” hailed back Blinky. “We know you’re all
right, boss.”
A few minutes later Jack heard Tom’s unconscious form being dragged up.
Then he himself was laid hold of by Duggan, while Duke aided Blinky
with Tom.
The lightning was now flashing incessantly and the angry growling of
the thunder was getting momentarily closer.
“They ought to thank us for getting them out of the wet,” remarked Duke
with grim humor as he aided Blinky to drag Tom across the road toward
the barn. As for Duggan, he easily handled Jack, tied as the lad was.
As Duggan raised him to hurl him into the barn a bright flash showed
Jack that the place was a gaunt, rat-haunted old structure, half filled
with hay near the door.
“I’ve slept in lots worse places,” remarked Blinky as he saw the
accommodations.
“Jail, for instance,” thought Jack, “and nobody ever deserved it
better.”
But he kept his thoughts to himself.