THE SNARE
"What's the matter?" Jet cried, as he arose to a sitting posture, and
rubbed his eyes.
"Are you the fellow who sent a message to the Albany chief of police?"
one of the men asked.
"Yes; has there been an answer?"
"I should say so. Don't we look like a pretty substantial reply to
almost any kind of a telegram?"
"But how did you get here?"
"On the morning express. It wasn't much of a job to persuade the
conductor to slow up about here when he knew what our business was."
"The morning express?" Jet repeated. "Why, it hasn't been more than
ten minutes since I fell asleep."
"You are not awake yet. It's twenty minutes past three," and the man
looked at his watch, as if to assure himself that he had made no
mistake. "Now, what is the matter, and where did you leave Harvey?"
Jet gazed around him in bewilderment at the thought that he had been
sleeping so long; but as the man asked these last questions it seemed
certain everything was all right, and he replied, without hesitation:
"I left Mr. Harvey wounded near a house about five miles from here."
Then he told the entire story, the men glancing triumphantly at each
other as he proceeded.
"Can you lead us to the place?" one of them asked, when he concluded.
"Of course, that's what I waited for."
"How many men has Harvey with him?"
"Didn't you know he brought two from Albany?"
"So he did; I remember now. And they are shut up in the house?"
"I suppose so."
"Then the sooner we leave the better, for it stands us in hand to
arrive about daybreak."
"Are you well armed?"
"Don't worry about us, my son. We know what we are about when we start
on a job like this."
"I only spoke because they have been shooting pretty lively."
"Things will be changed when we get there," was the reply in a
significant tone.
"If you are ready, we'll tramp along."
Jet leaped to his feet, feeling woefully stiff and sore; but the
thought that he was guiding those who would aid Harvey served to make
him forget, in a measure, his weariness.
He led the way down the track to that portion of the woods with which
he was familiar, and then struck across the country, walking so rapidly
that more than once his companions insisted on less speed.
"We must get there as soon as possible," he said, slackening his speed
unwillingly.
"A few minutes more or less can't make any difference, and we were
mighty nigh used up before we started. The next time Harvey undertakes
a job I hope he'll have sense enough to carry it through without
calling on all the men in the country."
Jet was about to make an angry protest against this criticism of his
friend, but he reflected that it would not be well to get into a
controversy, and more especially when he could better employ his breath.
He continued on as rapidly as his companions would permit, stopping to
rest only when they insisted upon it, and succeeded in making such good
headway that the sun had not yet shown himself when they arrived at a
point near the house.
"Here we are," Jet said, as he halted and listened for some sound which
would give him an inkling of the position of affairs.
"Where is the building?"
"About a hundred yards in that direction," and Jet pointed toward the
east.
"Are you certain Harvey and his men are there?"
"I know the men are inside, if they obeyed orders; but I'm afraid the
villains have got Mr. Harvey. Say, we must have walked mighty quick,
if it was past three o'clock when you wakened me, for it isn't daylight
yet."
"I said you was rushing too fast. Now, how are we to get inside?"
"Go over the wood-pile on this side."
"They'll shoot, not knowing who we are."
"Whistle twice while you are in the woods, and wait for an answer
before coming out of cover. That was the signal agreed upon."
"Then, you young cub, I reckon we are through with you," and as the man
spoke, he clasped Jet tightly around the waist, while his companion
clapped his hand over the boy's mouth.
Jet was taken so completely by surprise that he did not struggle for an
instant, and then the humiliating truth began to dawn upon him.
"Where is the rope you brought to tie him with?" the man who was
holding Jet asked, and after a moment's pause the other said with a
curse:
"It has slipped out of my pocket while we were coming through the
woods. Now, what shall we do?"
"You can manage to spoil a good thing quicker than any fellow I ever
knew. Why didn't you look out for it?"
"Because I didn't," was the surly reply. "If I'd had my way, these
fools would have been left to take care of themselves."
"Don't turn rusty now when our work is about done. Use a stick of wood
for a gag, and tie it in with your handkerchief."
When this had been done, and it required several moments, owing to the
shortness of the impromptu rope, Jet's hands were secured with another
handkerchief, and his body lashed to a tree with a pair of suspenders.
In this position he was unable to make any outcry; but he felt positive
he could release himself from the bonds after two or three attempts.
"Now, listen to me," one of the men said, in a low tone, as he shook
his fist unpleasantly near Jet's nose. "I reckon you're made fast
here; but if by chance you should find anybody fool enough to untie
you, and undertake to run away, it will be a case of shooting you on
sight. You've been too fresh altogether, and both Joe and Bob are to
blame for not having taken the wind out of your body long ago."
Jet made no reply, for the very good reason that it was impossible for
him to speak, and the men walked hurriedly away in the direction of the
house.
That he had suffered himself to be thus fooled caused the boy more
distress of mind than did the fact of his being powerless at the very
time when he was most needed.
The real officers would soon arrive from Albany; but if no one met them
at the depot they could do nothing, since they had no idea of the
location of the house.
His whole night's work had resulted only in bringing aid to the enemy,
and what made the situation worse was the fact that he had explained
how the villains could gain access to the house without a struggle.
"If Mr. Harvey knew what I had done he'd give over trying to help me
along, in case we ever do get out of this scrape," he said to himself.
"I ain't fit even to carry a message, let alone trying to help a
regular detective."
Then came the thought that Mr. Harvey might no longer be alive, and
this caused Jet such mental distress that several moments passed before
he was sufficiently composed to make any attempt at effecting his own
rescue.
He began by stiffening his muscles and throwing his body forward, with
the idea of stretching the suspenders to such an extent that he could
crawl out of them; but was suddenly stopped by hearing sounds as of
some one coming through the underbrush.
The only thought in his mind was that one of the enemy was coming to
kill him, and he redoubled his efforts until a familiar voice whispered:
"Jet, Jet! Is it you?"
He could not reply in words; but he managed to give vent to a faint
moan, at the same time moving his feet over the dead leaves to make a
yet louder noise.
"It's me, Harvey," the voice continued. "I heard a couple of men
talking about having left some one tied up, and thought it must be you."
While he spoke the detective continued to advance, drawing himself
along the ground by the hands, as if his lower limbs were useless, and
on reaching Jet raised his body with an effort until he could feel the
bonds which held the boy.
It was but the work of an instant to remove the gag, and untie his
hands, after which he could finish the work without assistance.
"Did you send the message?" Harvey asked, eagerly.
"Yes, and made a fool of myself afterward," Jet replied, quickly.
"Tell me what you mean, and speak quickly, for there is no knowing how
long we may be able to talk with each other."
In the fewest words possible the boy related the events of the night,
sparing himself not one whit, and when he had finished the detective
said, soothingly:
"An older hand than you might have been taken in. They probably got a
glimpse of your telegram, and were thus able to deceive you, so don't
feel badly."
"But they will now be able to get into the house."
"I'm not so sure of that. Those there must fancy that one or both of
us were hurt in the scrimmage, and would look mighty close before
letting two enter without a struggle."
"Are you wounded badly?" Jet asked.
"My leg is useless, and I lost considerable blood before I had time to
get a bandage around it."
"How did you give them the slip?"
"After you left I fired two rounds, and then crawled into the bushes.
They didn't dare to hunt me out while it was dark, because I could have
killed the first who came near, so I had a chance to circle around the
clearing. I wanted to be here when you came up with the
reinforcements."
"Have the fellows in the woods done much firing?"
"No; they have kept mighty quiet, and I'm hoping that some of our
bullets hit the mark by chance. We must get out of here as soon as
possible. Can't you find something that would answer as a crutch?
Thus far I've hunted in vain."
"I'll do better than that, Mr. Harvey, if you'll get on my back."
"You can't carry me."
"Indeed I can for a while, and at a good pace."
At that instant a shrill whistle sounded twice, and Jet said, in a
mournful tone:
"Now they are trying to get into the house."
"There's the answer," the detective said, a moment later. "We shall
hear some firing soon, whether they are successful or not."
He had hardly ceased speaking when the sound of firearms rang out on
the still air, and Harvey exclaimed, as he pointed toward the sky:
"We'll hope they tried their plan too late. Day is breaking, and in
the clearing it should be possible to distinguish the forms of men
quite distinctly. If our fellows are fooled, I fancy we shall never
see them again."
"Are we to leave without making one try to give them warning?"
"It is too late now, and was when I first found you. I'll see if you
can carry me a short distance, and then we must find a hiding-place,
for whether they are successful in this scheme or not, the
counterfeiters will soon be on the hunt for me."