ESCAPING FROM THE CAVES.
The Bradys were very much astonished by the violent turn affairs had
taken. In the prisoner's desperate attack they saw the last expiring
act of a wronged man thirsting to avenge his injuries.
It pleased them to see Mason caught in a trap.
But when the negro showed signs of attacking Mr. Dalton, they realized
that it was about time for them to act.
Harry had a revolver in his hand.
Aiming at Sim, he fired.
The sudden report startled every one.
A yell of agony escaped the negro, and he paused and staggered back
with a wound in his side which filled him with pain.
The shot caused Dalton to relax his awful grip.
Hoarsely gasping for air to breathe, Mason sprang to his feet.
"I'm shot!" groaned the coon.
"It's the detectives!" gasped Mason, seeing the Bradys.
"We'll get hung!" screamed Sim, in tones of horror.
"Run for the swamp passage!"
"Put out de light!"
Mason seized the lantern and hurled it to the ground.
There was a crash, a jingle of broken glass, then dense gloom.
The Bradys paused.
They heard the patter of rushing footsteps crossing the floor, and made
violent efforts to get out and unmask their lanterns.
Only a few moments passed before they had a light flashing on the
scene, and they swept it around the cavern.
But they saw nothing of the two villains.
They had made good their escape.
Mr. Dalton stood by the rock, trembling and anxious, and after a few
moments of silence, he asked, eagerly:
"Who is that?"
"Friends," cheerily replied Harry.
"Thank Heaven for that!"
"Harry, the villains are gone."
"Can you see how they got out?"
"Yes. There's another tunnel."
"Let them be for the present, and help me liberate this man."
"Wait till I get something from the other cave to break that chain."
He hastened back to the living room.
After the lapse of a few minutes he returned with a file.
While he was cutting open the padlock, Mr. Dalton asked:
"May I ask who you are, gentlemen?"
"The Bradys," replied Harry, quietly.
"What!" gasped the prisoner, in astonished tones.
"We've been hunting for you a long time, and found you at last."
"This is wonderful!"
"Perhaps to you, but not to us."
"For mercy's sake explain matters."
Harry complied as concisely as he could.
When he finished the old broker was thoroughly amazed at the great
crime Mason committed in order to rob him.
That it was a failure was due to the detectives, he easily foresaw.
He thanked them again and again, and said, sadly:
"Poor Lizzie! She was faithful to me through all."
"No one will be gladder to see you than she," said Harry.
"And she's so near me now?"
"Yes. In a quarter of an hour you can be with her."
"I feel renewed hope now."
"Will you please tell us how your rascally nephew first managed to get
you into his power, Mr. Dalton?" asked Harry, in curious tones.
"It was a very simple plan," replied the old broker. "He knew that I
was going to get you to run down the thief who was robbing my mail. But
he did not know that I suspected him of the crime. At any rate, on the
night you mentioned, I had gone to the Union Club. A telegram reached
me, saying you wished to see me at a house in Thirty-sixth street. I
went there. Mason and my valet were waiting there for me. They attacked
me. I shouted for help. They chloroformed me, bound and gagged me, put
me in a box they had prepared for my reception, and--well, all became a
blank."
"They had the box and wagon ready ahead, eh?"
"It was a prearranged plot," the broker replied. "That was evident. I
came to my senses in the box, and realized that I was being carried off
on a railway car. Then you opened the box. The next thing I knew, the
box I was in was thrown from the car. The shock stunned me. When I
recovered I found myself being carried over a swamp into a hut. The gag
was off my mouth, and I shouted for help."
"Yes; we heard you."
"The negro who carried me brought me down here and secured me this way.
Then Mason made his appearance. For the first time I then learned that
he was the author of all my trouble. He was bound to secure my bank
balance, and I refused to sign a check so he could get it. Infuriated
over my persistent refusal, he tortured and starved me. The rest you
probably know."
"We heard all they said this morning."
Just then Old King Brady finished cutting the lock, and the man was
free and able to walk.
He was very weak, though, and the detectives had to support him.
"Do you know anything about the passage by means of which the villains
escaped from here?" asked Old King Brady.
"Oh, yes. I've often explored this place," replied Mr. Dalton, readily.
"It's a passage leading under the swamp to the mainland."
"Show us the way, and we will follow it."
"Come along, then, and in a few minutes we'll be out of here."
They entered the tunnel, and Old King Brady said to the broker:
"When I entered the Thirty-sixth street house the night you were
abducted, I found a curious dagger lying on the floor, and blood-stains
on the boards. These clews led me to suppose a murder had been
committed there. Do you know anything about those things?"
"Yes," replied the broker. "The dagger was one I had purchased as a
curiosity that evening from a shop in Fourth avenue. When those two men
attacked me, I drew it, and cut the negro before they got the best of
me by knocking it from my hand. Sim bound up his wound, and then they
knocked me down and drugged me."
Old King Brady laughed.
"Another mystery solved," he muttered.
"You thought I was the victim, eh?"
"I did. But I see my error now."
"Daylight ahead," interposed Young King Brady just then.
"That's the exit from this tunnel," explained Mr. Dalton.
They left the passage among some rocks in the grounds above the house,
and saw Lizzie Dalton near by.
She sat on a log gazing away toward the big swamp with a sad expression
upon her pretty face.
Mr. Dalton became excited.
"Lizzie!" he shouted hoarsely.
She sprang to her feet as if electrified, glanced around at him with a
joyful look beaming all over her face, and cried emotionally:
"Oh, papa!"
The next moment they rushed into each other's arms, and kissed and wept
over each other, their hearts too full for utterance.
The Bradys turned away from the affecting scene.
"Guess everything's all right, Harry," muttered the old detective.
"Looks that way," replied the boy.
"We've got very little more to do now."
"Only to get the nippers on Mason and his black pal."
"Where in thunder could they have gone?"
"Let's notify the authorities along the line of the railroad in both
directions to keep a lookout for the pair."
Acting upon this suggestion, they quietly stole away, leaving the
reunited and happy father and daughter talking over past events.
Proceeding to Swamp Angel, and learning that neither of the villains
had yet put in an appearance there, they got the telegraph instrument
operating, and flashed a warning message all along the line.
News reached them that neither Mason nor Johnson had made any attempt
to get away on the cars yet.
In discussing this on their way back to Dalton's the old detective came
to a wise conclusion, when he said:
"After all, they ain't apt to show themselves for a while yet, Harry.
Both know the game is up, and that we'll be on the lookout for them to
escape. They'll expect us to make a bee line for the railroad depots
the first thing. Therefore, they'll shun the stations."
"You think they'll remain concealed around the swamp a while?"
"It's more than likely. Now that we've got the railroad guarded so they
can't escape, it will be best for us to watch the swamp, and I think
we'll find them lurking there until they think the excitement blows
over. They won't expect us to look for them there. That will make our
task all the easier, Harry."
"Suppose we secrete ourselves there to-night, then?"
"I'm agreeable. If we can pounce upon the pair while they're asleep, we
will be spared the difficulty of a fight in taking them."
They finally reached the Dalton house in time for luncheon.
Both the old broker and his daughter greeted them warmly.
The detectives advised him not to go to New York, or to let on to any
one that he was alive, until they had captured his enemies.
After supper, the Bradys departed for the swamp.
When they got around on the south side of the swamp, they heard the
murmur of voices coming from a dense thicket.
"Hark! What's that?" muttered Harry, holding up his finger.
"Part the bushes and look through."
Harry moved the tangled shrubbery aside.
They had a clear and uninterrupted view of the broad expanse of swamp,
and to their delight saw the two men they were hunting for.
The villains were only fifty yards from where the Bradys crouched.