"No; I'm not after you this time," laughingly responded Detective Boyle
to Jack's half serious inquiry on recognizing his visitor at the station
one evening a month later as the road detective who on the previous
memorable occasion had called in company with the sheriff. "Instead, I
want your assistance.
"Do you know," he asked, seating himself, "that your friends the freight
thieves are operating again on the division?"
"No!" said Jack in surprise.
"They are. And they have evolved some scheme that is more baffling even
than the 'haunting' trick you spoiled for them here last spring. Every
week they are getting away with valuable stuff from one of the night
freights between Claxton and Eastfield, while the train is actually en
route, apparently. That sounds incredible, I know, but it is the only
possible conclusion to come to, since the train does not stop between
those places, and I made sure the goods each time were aboard when it
left Claxton."
Jack whistled. "That does look a problem, doesn't it! But where do I come
in, Mr. Boyle?"
"Last evening, while thinking the matter over, the trick the thieves used
here at the Junction recurred to me--the man shipped in a box. It came to
me: Why couldn't that same dodge be played back against them in this
case?"
"Oh, I see! Have yourself shipped in a box, and 'stolen' by them! Clever
idea," exclaimed Jack.
"Not so bad I think, myself. Well, in the country between Claxton and
Eastfield, where it is my theory the gang has its headquarters, there are
no telephone or telegraph lines, and it struck me it would be a good plan
to take someone along with me who in case of things going wrong could
make his way back to the railroad, and cut in on the wire and call for
help. And naturally you were the first one I thought of. Do you want the
job?" asked the detective.
"I'd jump at the chance," Jack agreed eagerly. "It'd be more fun than
enough.
"But, Mr. Boyle, how do you know that the boxes are taken to the freight
thieves' headquarters, unopened, and not broken into right at the
railroad?"
"I figure that out from the number and size of the packages they have
taken each time--just a good load for a light wagon. And anyway you can
see that that would be their safest plan. If they broke up boxes near the
track they would leave clues that would be sure to be found sooner or
later, and put us on their trail.
"And through a friend in the wholesale dry-goods business at Claxton, who
I'll see down there to-night," the detective went on, "I can make
practically sure of our being 'stolen' together. The thieves have shown a
partiality for his goods; and by having our boxes attractively labelled
'SILK,' and placed just within the car door, there will be little chance
of the robbers passing us by."
"My plan is to bring it off to-morrow night. Would that suit you?"
concluded the detective.
"Yes, sir. That is, if I can get away. For it will take all night, I
suppose?"
"Yes. There will be no trouble about your getting off, though. I spoke to
Allen before I came down," said Boyle, rising. "All right, it is
arranged. You take the five-thirty down to-morrow evening, with the
necessary instruments, and I'll be at the station to meet you. Good
night."
As Boyle had promised, Jack had no difficulty in arranging to be off duty
the following night, and early that evening he alighted from the train at
Claxton, to find the railroad detective awaiting him.
"The instruments, eh?" queried Boyle, indicating a parcel under Jack's
arm as they left the station. "Yes, sir; and I have some wire and a file
in my pocket."
"That's the ticket. And everything here is arranged nicely. We will head
for the warehouse at once."
"Here's the other 'bolt of silk,' Mr. Brooke," the detective announced a
few minutes later as they entered the office adjoining a large brick
building. "All ready for us?"
"Hn! He's a pretty small 'bolt,' isn't he?" commented the merchant,
eyeing Jack with some surprise.
"A trifle; but he makes up for size in quality," declared the detective,
while Jack blushed. "He is the youngster who solved the 'ghost' riddle
and spoiled this same gang's game at Midway Junction."
The merchant warmly shook Jack's hand. "I'm glad to meet you, my boy," he
said. "After that, I can readily believe what Boyle says.
"Yes, I am all ready. This way, please," he requested.
Following the speaker, Jack and the detective found themselves in a large
shipping-room. As they entered, a workman with a pot and ink-brush in his
hand was surveying lettering he had just completed on a good-sized
packing-case.
"Here are the 'goods,' Judson," announced the merchant.
"All ready, sir," the workman responded, eyeing Jack and the detective
curiously.
"Did you substitute boards with knot-holes?" Mr. Brooke asked.
"Yes, sir. And this is the door," said the man, indicating two wide
boards at one end. "I used both wooden buttons and screw-hooks on the
inside, as you suggested."
"Good."
The detective examined the box. "You've made a good job of it," he
commented.
"I suppose this is the boy's?" he added, turning to a smaller box, on
which also were the words: "SILK--VALUABLE!"
With lively interest Jack examined the case.
"Get in and let us see how it fits," suggested the merchant. Jack did so.
"Fine," he announced. "I could ride all night in it, easily--either
sitting, or lying down curled up on my side."
Detective Boyle glanced at his watch. "You may as well stay right there,
Jack," he said. "We will start just as soon as the wagon is ready."
"It's ready now. Judson, go and bring the dray around," the merchant
directed.
As the man left, the detective produced and handed Jack a small pocket
revolver. "Here, take this, Jack," said he. "I hope you'll not have to
use it, but we must take all precautions.
"Now to box you in." So saying the detective fitted the "door" of Jack's
box into place, and Jack on the inside secured it with the hooks and
wooden buttons, and announced "O K." The detective then entered his own
box, and with the merchant's assistance closed the opening. As he tested
it there was a rattle of wheels without, and the big door rumbled open.
A few minutes later the two boxes of "valuable silk" had been slid out
onto the truck, and the first stage of the strange journey had begun.
As planned, it was dusk when the two boxes reached the freight depot. The
station agent himself met them. "Everything O K, Boyle?" he whispered.
"O K. Place us right before the door, with the lettering out," the
detective directed. The agent did as requested, and with a final "Good
luck!" closed and sealed the car door just as the clanging of a bell
announced the approach of an engine. A crash and a jar told the two
unsuspected travelers that their car had been coupled, there was a
whistle, a rumble, a clanking over switch-points--and they were on their
way.
The wheels had been drumming over the rail-joints for perhaps half an
hour, and the disappearance of the light which had filtered through the
car door had announced the fall of darkness, when there came a screeching
of brakes.
"Where do you suppose we are now, Mr. Boyle?" asked Jack from his box.
"It's the grade just north of Axford Road. When we hit the up-grade two
miles beyond we may begin to expect something. It was along there I
figured that the--
"What's that?"
Both listened. "One of the brakemen, isn't it?" suggested Jack.
"What is he doing down on the edge of the car roof?"
The next sound was of something slapping against the car door.
Suddenly the detective gave vent to a cry that was barely suppressed.
"Jack, I've got it! I've got it at last!" he whispered excitedly.
"The freight thieves have bought up one of the brakemen! He lets himself
down to the car door by a rope, opens it, and throws the stuff out!"
Jack's exclamation of delight at this final revelation of the heart of
the mystery was followed by one of consternation. "But won't we get an
awful shaking up if we're pitched off, going at full speed?" he said in
alarm.
"We may. We'll have to take it. It's all in the game you know," declared
Boyle grimly. "Sit tight and brace hard, and it'll not be so bad, though.
"Sh! Here he is!"
There was a sound of feet scraping against the car door, a rattle as the
seal was broken and the clasp freed, then a rumble and the sudden full
roar of the train told the two in the boxes that the door had been
opened.
Swinging within, the intruder closed the door behind him, and lit a
match. Peering from a knot-hole, Jack saw that the detective's guess was
correct. It was a brakeman.
As Jack watched, the man produced and lit a dark-lantern, and turned it
on the cases before him. Jack held his breath as the light streamed
through the cracks of his own box.
"Just to order," muttered the brakeman audibly.
"And the bigger one, too. I'll not have to haul any out."
Then, to Jack's momentary alarm, then amusement, the man seated himself
on the box, above him.
Presently, as Jack was wondering what the trainman was waiting for, from
the distant engine came the two long and two short toots for a crossing,
and the man started to his feet. With his eye to the knot-hole Jack
watched.
Again came a whistle, and the creaking of brakes. Immediately the
brakeman slid the car door back a few inches, flashed his lantern four
times, muffled it, and ran the door open its full width.
The critical moment had come. Gathering himself together, Jack braced
with knees and elbows. The trainman seized the box, swung it to the door,
and tipped it forward. The next instant Jack felt himself hurled out into
the darkness.
For one terrible moment he felt himself hurtling through space. Then came
a crackle of branches, the box whirled over and over, again plunged
downward, and brought up with a crash.
A brief space Jack lay dazed, in a heap, head down. But he had been only
slightly stunned, and recovering, he righted himself, and found with
satisfaction that he had suffered no more than a bruise of the scalp and
an elbow.
He had not long to speculate on his whereabouts. From near at hand came a
sound of breaking twigs, and a voice.
[Illustration: THE NEXT INSTANT JACK FELT HIMSELF HURLED OUT INTO
THE DARKNESS.]
"Here's one," it said.
Only with difficulty did Jack avoid betraying himself. It was the voice
of the man "Watts"!
"What is it?" inquired a second voice.
Through a crack a light appeared. "Silk," announced Watts.
"A good weight, too," he added, tipping the box. "Catch hold."
The packing-case was caught up; and rocked and jolted, Jack felt himself
carried for what he judged a full quarter-mile. As the men slowed up a
gleam of moonlight showed through the knot-hole, and peering forth he
discovered a tree-lined road, and a two-horse wagon.
Sliding the box into the rear of the wagon, and well to the front, the
men disappeared. The wait that followed was to Jack the most trying
experience of the evening. Had the detective safely landed? Was there not
a possibility of the larger box having been shattered? Or sufficiently
broken to reveal its true contents, and disclose the plot to the
freight-robbers? And what then would be his fate?
These and many other disquieting possibilities passed through Jack's
mind, causing him several times as the minutes went by to finger the
hooks and buttons which would permit of his escape. Finally snapping
twigs, then heavy, stumbling footfalls allayed his anxiety, and the two
men reappeared, staggering under the box containing the officer.
With difficulty the unsuspecting thieves raised the heavy packing-case to
the tail-board of the wagon.
"It won't go in," said Watts' companion.
"Push this way a little," Watts directed.
"I can't--_Look out!_" There was a scramble, and the box crashed to the
ground. At the same moment came a muffled exclamation, and Jack caught
his breath. Was it the detective? If so, had the others overheard it?
With relief, however, he heard Watts, who apparently was the chief of the
gang, call his companion a mule, and order him to catch hold again. The
box this time was successfully slid aboard; and at once the two men
climbed to the seat, and the wagon rumbled off.
As they rattled along over a badly-kept road Jack gave as close attention
to the passing scenery as his limited view permitted, in order that he
might be able to find his way back to the railroad if it should prove
necessary. This did not promise to be difficult. On either side the dim
moonlight showed an unbroken succession of trees, and also that the
robbers were continuing in one direction--apparently due south.
For what seemed at least two miles they proceeded. Then appeared a small
clearing, and with a quickening of the pulse Jack felt the wagon slow up
and turn in. They were at their destination.
A forbiddingly suitable place for its purpose it was. Standing out darkly
on the crest of a rise two hundred yards back, was a low shanty-like
house, in which appeared a single gleam of light. Between, to the road,
stretched a desolate moonlit prospect of stumps, decaying logs and
brush-piles. On either side the woods formed a towering wall of
blackness.
Rocking and pitching, the wagon made its way up a rutty, corkscrew lane.
They reached the house, and the door opened, and a tall, unpleasant-looking
woman appeared and greeted the men.
"Good luck, eh?" she remarked briefly.
"Sure. Don't we always have good luck?" responded Watts. "Is supper
ready?"
"Yes. You-uns better come in before you opens them boxes," said the
woman.
"All right."
Passing on, the wagon came at last to a halt before a good-sized barn.
The two men leaped to the ground, and while one of them opened the large
side doors the other proceeded to back the wagon to it.
As the two freight thieves then unhooked, and led their horses to the
stable, there came to Jack's ears a welcome tapping. "Are you all right,
lad?" whispered the detective.
"Yes, O K, sir, though a bit nervous," Jack acknowledged.
"Keep cool and we'll soon have them where we want them. As they are going
in to supper first we'll not leave the boxes till then. That'll give us
just the opportunity we want to look around and arrange things nicely.
"Sh! Here they come!"
"Catch hold," said Watts. Jack heard the detective's box slide out, an
"Up!" from Watts, the staggering steps of the men across the barn floor,
and a thud as the box was dropped.
At what then immediately followed Jack for a moment doubted his senses.
It was the voice of Watts saying quietly and coldly, "Now my clever
friend in the box, kindly come out!"
They _had_ heard Boyle's exclamation when the box had fallen!
Scarcely breathing, Jack listened. Would the detective give himself up
without a--
There was a muffled report, instantly a second, louder, then silence.
"Will you come out now?" demanded Watts.
To Jack's horror there was no response. Watts repeated the order, then
called on his companion for an axe, and there followed the sound of blows
and splintering wood.
"Now haul him out."
Terror-stricken, Jack listened. Suddenly there came the sound of a
scramble, then of a terrific struggle.
The detective was all right! It had been only a ruse! Uttering a
suppressed hurrah Jack began hurriedly undoing the fastenings of his
door, to get out to the detective's assistance. Before he had opened it,
however, there was the sound of a heavy fall, and a triumphant shout from
Watts. Promptly Jack paused, debated a moment, and restored the
fastenings. He would wait. Perhaps they would bind Boyle and leave him in
the barn.
A moment later Jack regretted his decision. Through the knot-hole he saw
the detective led by, his arms bound behind him, and one of the
freight-robbers on either side.
The voices and footsteps died away in the direction of the house, and
Jack fell to wondering what he should do. Before he had decided he heard
the voices of the men returning. Apprehensively he waited. Had they any
suspicion of his presence in the second packing-case?
While he held his breath and grimly clutched his revolver, they slid his
box to the rear of the wagon, lifted it out, and deposited it on the barn
floor.
"Going to have a look at it? Make sure it hasn't some live stock in it
too?" inquired the second man.
Jack's heart stood still.
"No; it's all right," declared Watts confidently. "We'll have supper
first." And to Jack's unspeakable relief they passed out and closed the
barn door. Listening until from the house had come the slamming of a
door, Jack once more freed the fastenings within the box, slipped the
board aside, again listened a moment, and crawled forth.
As he stood stretching his cramped limbs, he glanced about. A tier of
what looked like bolts of cloth in the moonlight beneath one of the barn
windows caught his eye. He stepped over.
It was silk--silk such as he had seen in the warehouse at Claxton!
Instantly there came to Jack a startling suggestion. As quickly he
decided to act upon it. "They may never 'catch on,'" he told himself
delightedly, "and in any case it will give me a good start back for the
railroad, for help."
Glancing from the barn window, to make sure all was quiet in the
direction of the house, he drew his box into the moonlight, took out the
parcel containing the telegraph instruments, and proceeded to remove the
hooks and buttons, and all other signs of the "door." Then quickly he
filled the box with bolts of silk from the pile beneath the window.
That done, he found a hammer and nails, and muffling the hammer with his
handkerchief, as quietly as possible nailed the boards into place.
Triumphantly he slid the box to its former position on the floor.
"I think that will fool you, Mr. Watts," he said with a smile, and
catching up the telegraph instruments he turned to the door.
On the threshold he started back. The two men, and two others, were
returning from the house.
In alarm Jack looked about for a way of escape. Across the barn was a
smaller door. He ran for it on tiptoe, darted through, and found himself
in the stable. Passing quietly on to the outer door, which the cracks and
moonlight revealed, he waited until the four men had entered the main
barn, then slipped forth, and keeping in the shadows, ran toward the
house.
[Illustration: HE SAW THE DETECTIVE LED BY, HIS ARMS BOUND BEHIND HIM.]
A beam of light streamed from one of the rear windows. Jack made for it,
and cautiously approaching, peered within. The woman he had seen at the
door was at a table, washing dishes, her back toward him. And just
beyond, facing him, and bound hand and foot in a big arm-chair, was the
detective.
For some minutes Jack tried in vain to attract the officer's attention.
Then the woman obligingly stepped into the pantry with some dishes, and
quickly Jack gave a single tap on the window-pane. Boyle looked up
instantly, started, smiled, then nodded his head in the direction of the
railroad. Jack held up the parcel containing the telegraph instruments,
the detective nodded again, and in a moment Jack was off.
It was an exhausting run over the rough, little-used road, now darkened
by the overhanging trees; but at length Jack recognized the point at
which he had been carried from the woods, and turning in, soon found
himself at the railroad.
Hurrying to the nearest telegraph pole, he swarmed up to the cross-tree,
and quickly filed through the wire on one side of the glass insulator.
The broken wire fell jangling to the rails. Connecting an end of the wire
he had brought with him to the wire on the other side of the pin, Jack
slid to the ground, made the connections with the instrument, and the
relay clicked closed.