A STRUGGLE IN THE DARK
The woman's scream was so full of terror, so agonized, and so
blood-curdling that for a moment the mad rush out of the door was halted.
Every one stopped short in horror and amazement.
Sergeant Riley was the first to regain his senses. "Come on!" he shouted
and plunged out into the night. Close at his heels followed the others.
That is, all except Heinrich; he dashed into the room adjoining the
office and remained there unnoticed.
The air was filled with shouts and cries. Men ran hither and thither,
black shapes flitting up and down like shadows.
"Spread out!" shouted Sergeant Riley. "Circle the factory and don't let
any one escape."
Bob and Hugh unconsciously kept close together in spite of the sergeant's
orders. One end of the factory was situated on the shore of the Molton
River, and toward the river bank the two boys made their way.
"What a scream that was," shuddered Hugh.
"Awful," cried Bob, and then he tripped over something lying on the
ground, and pitched forward headlong on his face. A moment later he had
regained his feet.
"What tripped you?" demanded Hugh.
"Look!" said Bob, shivering as he spoke. He pointed to a misshapen heap
of something lying on the ground at his feet. "It was soft, like a body."
"The woman who screamed," cried Hugh in terror.
"Strike a match."
"I haven't got one."
"We must pick her up and carry her into the office."
"But she may be dead."
"Suppose she is," exclaimed Bob. "We've got to do it just the same."
"This is terrible," cried Hugh. "Can't we get some one to do it for us?"
"Every one is busy."
"Where's Karl?"
"He's busy, too. Come on, Hugh, we must do it. If she's not dead now she
may die while we stand here and talk about it."
Hugh braced himself for the task. They could distinguish the vague
outlines of the woman's form, as Bob stationed himself at her head and
Hugh grasped her feet.
"All ready," said Bob. "Lift her up."
"Suppose we are attacked while we're carrying her."
"Lift her up, will you?" demanded Bob angrily. "What's the matter with
you, Hugh?"
Bob took hold of her shoulders and Hugh grasped her ankles. She was
heavy and absolutely limp so that it was very difficult to lift her from
the ground. The two boys exerted all their strength, however, and
presently were able to start on their way back to Mr. Cook's office,
panting and straining as they went. The distance was not great,
fortunately, and soon they opened the door of the office and deposited
their burden on the floor.
"Why," gasped Bob, starting back in surprise. "It's Lena."
"What?" demanded Hugh.
"It certainly is. Look at the blood on her shoulder."
"Is she dead?"
"I don't know." He took hold of Lena's wrist and felt for her pulse. "Her
heart is still beating," he announced a moment later.
"Hadn't we better get a doctor?"
"I should say so," exclaimed Bob. "Call up Doctor Clarke and tell him to
come down here just as fast as he can."
Hugh hastened to obey, while Bob secured a towel soaked in water and
began to bathe the wounded woman's face. How had it all happened? Perhaps
one of the factory guards had surprised her at some criminal work and had
shot her as she fled. Bob did not know enough to understand whether she
was badly wounded or not; at any rate she was still bleeding profusely.
Presently Hugh reported that the doctor would be down just as quickly as
he could. He had promised to start at once.
"What shall we do?" inquired Hugh.
"Don't you think we ought to stay here with Lena?"
"I don't see that we can do anything for her, and we may be needed
outside. Where's Heinie? Why don't we leave her with him?"
"Where _is_ Heinie anyway?" exclaimed Bob. He hurried to the door of the
adjoining room, but there was no trace of the missing chauffeur.
"He's gone, I guess," said Hugh. "When every one rushed out in the
excitement he must have slipped away. We'll never see him again."
"How stupid of us," cried Bob. "Every one clean forgot him, I guess."
"His escape doesn't settle what we have to do," said Hugh.
"Let's go out and leave her here, I say. We don't know anything to do for
her. Anyway you told the doctor where to come, didn't you?"
"I did."
"Come on then," and Bob hurried out, with Hugh following close behind.
In front of the office they stopped for a moment, peering intently all
about them and straining their ears for every sound. Bob remembered the
big hickory stick of his father's and stepped inside again to get it.
"We're taking chances prowling around here unarmed," said Hugh when his
friend had joined him once more.
"I know it, but what can we do?"
"Nothing, I guess. Where do you suppose the others are?"
"Let's go find them."
Again they started in the direction of the river, not in a mad rush this
time, but slowly and carefully picking their way. They skulked along in
the shadow of the factory walls, ready for any emergency that might
arise. They kept close together and if the truth were known both boys
would have been very glad to have had an armed companion with them.
They had covered perhaps a hundred and fifty feet or so, and ahead of
them could just make out the dark bank of the river. Suddenly they saw a
man appear around the corner of the building, running toward them. Bob
and Hugh crouched against the brick wall and waited for him to come
near. All at once Bob recognized the stranger and started forward.
"Karl," he cried.
The man halted.
"Where are you going?" asked Bob. "Where are father and the others?"
"Down by the river," replied Karl and once more broke into a run. A
moment later he was lost to sight in the darkness.
"Seems to me he's in an awful hurry," remarked Hugh.
"Father had probably sent him on an errand," said Bob. "Let's hurry and
see if we can't find father and Sergeant Riley."
"Who do you think shot Lena?" asked Hugh.
"I don't know. We'd better not talk here now."
"Do you suppose it could have been the fake detective?" said Hugh
regardless of Bob's advice.
"I don't know, but I don't see why he should shoot one of his own gang."
"He blew up Mr. Wernberg though."
"I know it, but I can't understand it, and as I said I don't think we
ought to talk here."
They proceeded in silence. Both boys were eager to join the others and
they wondered what they could be doing down by the river. Perhaps they
had captured the plotter and had dispatched Karl for rope or handcuffs
to secure him. At any rate nothing suspicious had happened since the
shots had first been heard.
The boys had progressed but a short distance further, when suddenly a
great tongue of flame shot heavenward between them and the river. An
ear-splitting detonation followed, and the very earth was rocked by an
enormous explosion. Both boys were thrown violently to the ground by the
force of it, while showers of earth, bricks, and material of all kinds
pelted down all about them.
A moment later the boys were on their feet, still partly stunned and
undecided as to whether they should run or not.
"There may be another one coming," warned Hugh.
While they hesitated a man suddenly appeared running swiftly away from
the direction of the explosion.
"Hey there!" challenged Bob. "Who are you?"
For answer there came the flash of a revolver and a pane of glass in the
window close beside the boys' heads was shattered.
"Stop!" shouted Bob at the top of his voice and regardless of danger he
started in pursuit of the fleeing man. Hugh was not to be left behind at
such a time and together they raced after the fugitive.
Suddenly he stopped, raised his right arm, and hurled his revolver. It
struck the ground directly in front of Hugh, spun around a number of
times and hit him a sharp blow on his shin bone as it caromed.
"Let it alone," cried Bob.
"It must be empty."
Both boys were fleet of foot, but in the first fifty yards of the race
the man gained on them. It was plain to see that unless something
happened they would soon be outdistanced. Bob realized that the time had
come when chances were to be taken. He raised his father's hickory cane
above his head, whirled it around a couple of times, and sent it spinning
in the direction of the fleeing figure ahead.
The one chance in a hundred was successful. Bob's aim was true and the
heavy stick flew straight to its mark. As the man ran, one end of it
protruded itself between his legs; he was tripped up and, losing his
balance, fell sprawling to the ground. Almost instantly he was on his
feet again, but the delay occasioned by his fall had been almost
sufficient to enable the boys to catch up with him. They were barely two
steps behind him now.
"Tackle him!" shouted Bob.
Like two ends going down the field to get the quarterback who is
receiving the punt Bob and Hugh leaped forward at the same time. They
had both had experience in football and it stood them in good stead now.
The man went down, both boys literally swarming all over him.
"I've got his legs, Hugh," cried Bob. "Grab his arms."
The man kicked and struggled with all the strength that was in him. Bob
hung on for dear life, however. He held one of the man's feet in each
hand and threw his body across his legs to hold them down. Hugh scrambled
forward and hurled his entire weight across the man's chest. Their
prisoner's fists were going like flails, but Hugh persisted. The thought
of this German plotting against the United States was more than he could
endure and he dealt the man a stunning blow squarely in the face.
A moment later the man's arms and legs were tightly pinned to the ground
while the two boys sat astride him, complete masters of the situation.
"I'd like to pound his head off," cried Bob fiercely. "Just look at
that fire."
The bomb had done its work, and already the flames were mounting higher
and higher over the damaged portion of the factory. The fire whistles
were blowing violently; some one had turned in the alarm promptly anyway.
"What shall we do with him?" panted Hugh.
"You didn't knock him out when you hit him, did you?"
"No. He's all right."
"Let's get him on his feet and take him up to the office then."
"Hang on tight."
"Don't worry about that. If he tries to get away we'll choke his
head off."
Whether or not the man understood these remarks he offered no comment.
Hugh held him by one arm and Bob by the other. They yanked him to his
feet and marched him off in the direction of the factory office. Strange
to say their prisoner offered but little resistance; he dragged his feet
somewhat but followed along sullenly.
Presently there was a clatter and a clang of bells and the fire engine
dashed into the yard, shooting sparks in a broad yellow stream from its
stack. There was much shouting and giving of orders, and a moment later
the hose cart, and the hook and ladder made their appearance.
Whether or not it was the distraction caused by these events, Bob and
Hugh never could explain to themselves. At any rate they must have
relaxed their caution and paid less attention to their prisoner than they
should, for with a sudden violent twist of his body he wrenched himself
free and was gone.