Left to Starve.
Wheeling in his tracks, The Rat sprang for the door. In his path stood
the officer who had conducted him into the apartment. Surprised at
the sudden movement, this worthy made no effort to stop the departing
guest, but remained motionless in his position.
Throwing out an arm in the familiar movement employed by football
players when warding off an opponent, "The Rat" landed his fist
squarely on the solar plexus of the officer. Emitting a coughing grunt,
that individual was bowled over in a most undignified manner.
Ere he could regain his feet and his dignity, "The Rat" had dashed
madly out of the room, through the corridor and made good his escape.
"Walked right in and turned around----" quoted Jimmie, with a grin at
the officer's evident discomfiture.
"He didn't leave his card, either," smiled Harry. "Wonder where he's
going in such a hurry," he added. "He is surely up to something!"
"Probably he will head for Berlin now that he sees there is no market
where he can dispose of his goods in this town," ventured Jack.
Thrown into surprised confusion by the unusual and undignified
interruption of their deliberations, the gentlemen who had received the
boys were apparently unable to give coherent thought to the matter in
hand. They were recalled to a consideration of the case by Ned.
"Cannot we put out a dragnet and have this fellow arrested?" he
inquired presently. "If you can detain him on some charge, we will
at once cable for the necessary papers to secure his exchange to our
country. He is far too dangerous a man to allow at large."
"Thank you for the suggestion," exclaimed one of the gentlemen. "It is
a good one and we will act upon it at once."
"Rest assured," spoke up another, "the police will at once take the man
into custody and the matter will be arranged as you wish."
Considering the matter closed and with repeated assurances of
friendship for the boys and the country they represented, the
gentlemen wished them a hearty good-night after telephoning
instructions to the police department regarding the arrest of "The Rat."
Francois volunteered to accompany the boys to a suitable hotel, where
accommodations could be secured, and in his company they left the War
Office. Owing to the scarcity of cabs and other street conveyances
due to the presence at the front of all available men, the boys were
compelled to walk to their proposed lodging some distance away.
"There's something the matter with me," Jimmie announced as the lads
were once more upon the street. "I have a funny feeling!"
"Possibly you are upset by the different drinking water," Ned suggested
anxiously. "I hope you are not going to be ill!"
"Are you feverish, Jimmie?" inquired Jack. "You look all right!"
"No," responded the lad with a twinkle in his eye, "I think I have a
cold. You remember the old saying: Feed a cold and starve a fever!' I'm
quite sure I have a bad cold and want to take treatment!"
"Again?" queried Harry, laughing. "Jimmie, you've got a chronic case of
semi-starvation. I believe you could eat in your sleep!"
"You're right, Harry," agreed Jimmie. "I'm a healthy young chap and
besides I do the thinking for the whole party. It takes considerable
nourishment to keep my thinking machine in working order."
"In that case," laughingly responded Ned, "we may as well go along with
you to a restaurant and see that you don't overdo the matter. You might
diagnose your case as pneumonia instead of a simple cold!"
"Where can we find a place open at this time, Francois?" asked Jack,
who was walking beside their newly found friend.
"There are none in this section," replied Francois. "We may find some
still open in another quarter, although the locality is not of the
best. I will show you the way if you like."
"Lead on, Scout," urged Jimmie. "We'll follow you!"
Francois conducted the lads to a section of the city where every
indication betokened it to be of the less desirable class. The houses
were old and the streets were not well kept. There were few people
abroad at that hour and these were evidently men who followed no
regular employment, but gained a precarious living from odd jobs.
Noting the character of the passersby and the section of the city, the
lads commented rather unfavorably in that regard. Their distrust was
not lessened when they observed the character of the restaurant which
they finally entered. Francois apologized for the place, but stated
that it was the best available at that late hour. It was too late to go
elsewhere.
"Poulet au champignons!" cried Jimmie, glancing over the greasy menu.
"Is that chicken with champagne or champagne with chicken?"
"It is fowl with a mushroom sauce," explained Francois.
"All right, send in five orders of that!" assented Jimmie.
"What shall we others eat?" Jack inquired, teasingly.
"That order was for the whole bunch!" declared Jimmie, indignantly.
"You don't suppose I'm going to eat five hens, do you?" he added.
A waiter in a soiled apron presently appeared and received their
orders with an injured air. Evidently he did not relish being roused
from his inactivity. Scarcely had his shuffling feet carried him
kitchenwards before a man entered the place and engaged in conversation
with the cashier. Jack, keenly alert because of their surroundings,
noticed that the newcomer seemed to be indicating in a guarded way the
lads seated at the table.
"I'll bet," he whispered to his companions, "that we get 'held up' when
we leave this place. That fellow looks suspicious to me!"
The boys stole surreptitious glances at the man indicated and all
agreed with Jack that he was evidently a low character planning to
attack them as they left the place. They were confident, however, that
nothing in the way of robbery would be attempted in the restaurant.
Contrary to their expectations they found the quality of the food much
better than the appearance of the establishment would indicate and were
grateful to Jimmie and Francois for their good offices.
As they were settling with the cashier, Jimmie glanced from the window
and espied the suspected man standing outside, evidently waiting for
them to appear upon the street. He had drawn back into the shadow.
For perhaps a block the boys walked together in a close group
discussing the possibility of an attack and the best means to ward it
off should it be made. Their attention was attracted by a low whistle.
An answering signal at once came from across the street.
At that moment an automobile dashed up from the rear. As it drew up
to the curb near the boys two men sprang out. Other forms were seen
approaching on the run. The boys were surprised by the suddenness of
this movement and were hardly prepared to resist so strong a force.
In the darkness of the street they could not measure the number of
their opponents. They tried to keep close together, hoping thereby
to better withstand the anticipated attack. Ned struck out bravely,
landing a straight arm punch on the jaw of a man who appeared directly
before him.
Apparently robbery was not the object of the assault. No attempt was
made to disable the lads or rifle their pockets. They were seized
in rough arms, while dexterous hands wound cloths about their faces
effectually preventing an outcry. Their arms were securely pinioned.
At a low spoken command the men lifted the now helpless boys into the
waiting motor, which at once dashed madly along the poorly paved street.
Struggle as they might, the lads were unable to release themselves from
their bonds. Not a word was spoken by their captors during the wild
ride. At length the prisoners gave over their useless efforts.
Directly the machine was turned into a smoother street, but the speed
was in no wise diminished. At length a halt was made. Dragged from
their places like so many sacks of grain, the captives felt themselves
hoisted to the shoulders of their abductors. Judging from sounds that
they were being taken into a building of some sort, all awaited with
considerable anxiety some indication of the next development.
This was not long in coming. A passageway was negotiated followed by
a journey down a flight of creaking stairs. The boys were presently
deposited in not too gentle a manner upon a hard floor. Footsteps
retreating up the creaking stairway indicated that they were to be left
alone. Nothing had been said that would indicate the identity of their
captors.
Jimmie's impatient and frantic efforts to free himself from the bonds
and gag were interrupted by a voice full of venom.
"Might as well save your wind, young fellow!" the lads heard a familiar
voice say. "You'll need it all before you get out of this!"
Then, since answer was evidently impossible, the voice went on:
"You fellows are so good at getting out of tight-places, let's see
you get out of this! You cooled the hot box, saved your hangar from
burning, slipped away from Havre and got out of the barn in the
country, but you did it only because you had help or wheedled some one
into your way of thinking. This is different. You get no help here!
"You are in the cellar of an old warehouse that has been abandoned
because the structure burned. On one side is the river Seine; on the
other is a street blocked by debris from the ruined warehouse. No
one ever visits this locality, so you'll have lots of time to think
it over. Next time, don't try to interfere with my plans! Do you
understand?"
In despair the boys lay helpless and listened to their informant as he
closed a heavy door. This was barred on the outside and heavy materials
were thrown against it. Then silence reigned.
For a long time the lads lay listening for sounds that would indicate
the presence of others. A muffled splash of water now and again was the
only indication of movement that reached their ears.
Presently a movement showed that one of the boys was shifting his
position. A sudden gasp followed by a violent exhalation of breath
showed that a struggle was taking place. A tearing of cloth was heard.
"Whoo!" gasped Jimmie. "That was a tough job!"
"Any of you fellows got loose yet?" the lad continued.
For obvious reasons no answer greeted his question.
"Oh, I forgot!" cried the lad. "Maybe you're all fixed like I was.
Where are you?" he continued, taking a stumbling step. "Why don't you
talk?"
Quickly Jimmie produced a searchlight from an inner pocket.
It was the work of but a few moments to find and release his fellow
prisoners. A great stretching of arms and indrawing of breath followed
this act. All were loud in their expressions of gratitude to Jimmie and
wondered at his ability to break loose from the bonds.
"I guess they didn't take the trouble to tie me very tight," explained
Jimmie modestly, but the abrasions on his bleeding wrists spoke
eloquently of the heroic struggle the lad had made.
"We'll fix you up as soon as we get to a drug store!" asserted Jack.
"Those cuts must hurt pretty badly. Jimmie, you're a brick!"
"Aw, shucks!" deprecated Jimmie. "Let's get out of here!"
"Here's a window with some bars over it," announced Harry, who had been
examining their prison. "Maybe we could crawl out of that!"
"Yes, and drop into the river!" scorned Jimmie, approaching.
"Perhaps there might be a police boat on the river," suggested
Francois. "If we could attract their attention they would help us."
"Good idea!" Jimmie approved. "I'll turn in a 'four-eleven.'"
Drawing his automatic, the boy sent two shots into the rapidly rushing
stream which lapped the sides of the building. He followed these with
two more and again two and again two, emptying the pistol. As he was
reloading, Francois, who had been peering across the river, cried:
"They've heard you! They are coming! I see the police boat!"
Losing little time in explanations, the police loaded the five boys
into their boat, bringing the gunwales nearly to the water's edge. A
rattle of revolver shots greeted the tiny craft as it pulled out of the
shadow of the ruined warehouse. A man dimly outlined stood above them
sending shot after shot in their direction, but with poor aim.
Highly incensed, Jimmie swung his automatic around and fired.
Instantly a scream echoed through the night.