CHARGE!
“Those guards out of the way, all right? What’s that behind that
pile of furniture?” Captain Welch was talking to P. J. Jolls, in the
lonely cabin on the hill, while Poodle and General Thorne listened
through a hole in the thatch.
“You’re pretty nervous for an Army officer, strikes me. That’s a
shadow behind that furniture, and that’s all. Of course if you want
me to take it away, it would give me pleas—” Mr. P. J. Jolls voice
was filled with contempt.
“Well, you’ll get nervous if you don’t watch out. ’Fact, I think
you will right now, Jolls, for it’s about time to tell you what I
want before we go any farther. I want you to boost my seventy-five
thousand to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“Whew!” commented the General, on the roof. “That might be almost
called a bribe! So that’s why Welch wanted us to take Jolls’
aeroplanes!”
“Whew!” Jolls was ejaculating below, like an echo. “Say, what do
you think I’m made of? Why, even seventy-five thousand is too much.
I won’t make a cent over a hundred thousand clear profit on the
contract, even as it is, even if the Board grants a full million; and
if you get seventy-five thousand, I’ll get only twenty-five. And a
hundred and fifty thousand, why, that will just mean fifty thousand
coming out of my pocket.”
“Oh, cut that. You’re lying, and I know it, and you know I know it. I
may be nervous but I’m not afraid of you or your hired thugs—private
detectives, you like to call ’em; murderers I call ’em. I’m sorry I
ever went into this fool business; even if I do need the money for
that gambling debt, and even if I do hate those goody-goody fools
like Jack Adeler and that old woman General Thorne—with his knitting.”
(Just then this same General Thorne, not so very many feet away from
Captain Welch, was clinching and unclinching his plump hands as
though he had hold of some one’s throat. Poodle was busily stuffing
his handkerchief into his mouth.)
Captain Welch was going on, “I’m not in this for my health. You
know that if we get found out I’ll be the most disgraced man in
America—next to you. But I’m getting desperate anyway. Desperate,
do you hear me? That gambling affair, and the shortage in accounts
at Fort Myer (I’d like to kill you for finding that out)—they’ll
come out if I can’t get hold of plenty of hush-money. And then I’ll
have to have enough over so I can resign from the Army and go
to Europe for the rest of my life. I’m desperate I tell you. Now
either you come across, or I’ll split to General Thorne—tell him
the whole business by letter, and make a getaway from the country.
It’s easy enough for me to move—I haven’t got any factories like
you to take with me, and I’ll be welcomed in at least three South
American armies. Here’s my ultimatum: Sign up for a hundred and
fifty-thousand, or I walk out of this cabin—with my revolver out and
the drop on you and your thugs—”
“ALL RIGHT!” snarled Jolls. “Take your bribe.” And he signed a small
sheet of paper which the Captain tucked into his pocket.
Poodle was surprised to hear something much like a repressed chuckle
beside him; and the General whispered, “It’s lovely—it’s _lovely_!
I’ve already heard enough to land Captain Welch in disgrace.”
“Well, now,” Jolls was saying, below, “let’s get our lines straight,
and then we can talk to this Griffin boy. Young whelp! I’d like to
kill him just on general principles. First, we’ll make him sign that
letter. I think an hour in the swamp will have him about where we
want him. Then to-night I’ll have Bat do the second-story burglar
act, and steal all the plans of the tetrahedral that there are here
in Washington—at the Lieutenant’s room and the patent office. That
last is the most dangerous thing yet. As for Priest, you’ve got the
data on his having been arrested for forgery have you?”
“Yes,” said Welch.
“Is that true—was Martin Priest a forger?” the General hastily
whispered to Poodle.
“Yes, he confessed it to Lieutenant Adeler and us,” admitted Poodle.
The General answered, “Then it’s all right, and we’ll just forget it.”
Below, Jolls was going on with his plot:
“We’ll let that get into the newspapers, and at the same time
we’ll send Priest young Griffin’s letter, and a faked letter from
the General, and enough other stuff like that to make him think
he’s disgraced and he’ll just disappear. I’ve had my men studying
him closely enough so that I know he’s pretty sensitive. I don’t
think we’ll have any more trouble with him. You still feel that
the electric firearms he carries make him too dangerous to attack
directly?”
“Yes,” again said Captain Welch.
“Well, all right, but I wish we could kill him.”
“Yes, it _is_ too bad his appetite for raw meat’s spoiled,” Poodle
whispered, like a “little cherub that sits up aloft.”
Jolls was going on: “And you’ll ’tend to burning up the tetrahedral
all right, will you? Well, that’s fixed. I guess that will cover it
so that we won’t hear anything more. The only things we’ve got to
look out for are Adeler and that Torrington boy—no, Torrington Darby
I guess his name is. Well, he’s not dangerous—he’s one of these fat
little innocents. We’ll let him alone.”
“_Thanks_,” that “fat little innocent” softly crooned, on the roof.
“I guess young Griffin will keep his mouth shut before we get through
with him. ’Fact, I wouldn’t mind having him tied up in the swamp till
he went clean crazy and never could talk again,” said Jolls, coldly.
“Neither would I—young imp,” snapped the Captain.
“What I’ll do to you, sweet Captain,” the General murmured, on the
roof.
“That leaves Adeler. I’ll have to devise some way to fix him—we might
just suggest to Bat that he’d better disappear—but I wouldn’t like to
kill any one,” Mr. Jolls spoke very sentimentally.
“Oh, no,” said Captain Welch, sarcastically, “I know how
tender-hearted you are. But do what you please—so long as I get the
hundred and fifty thou. and can get out of the country.”
“Arrangements look all right to you?” Jolls asked.
“Yes,” said Welch.
“Well, then, let’s go down and have a look at young Griffin. You
remember to see that not a shred of the tetrahedral is left. (Say,
call the guards, will you, now?) Run a fuse into its fuel tank or
just sprinkle kerosene over—”
While Jolls was thus giving final directions, his thugs were
summoned; and then, very suddenly, there was “something doing.”
The General stood straight up, and lighted, not one signal-match, but
a whole box, flinging them flaming up into the air. A moment before
he had seemed a rather puffy, quiet old man, but now he was changed
into a red-hot fighting devil. He tore away at the thatch, with his
revolver-butt.
Poodle caught up great handfuls of the old straw, too, and as the
General dropped through on the astounded seven men below, Poodle
dropped with him, revolver in hand.
As he landed on the floor of the cabin, the General toppled over and
sank to his knees. He had turned an ankle. But, kneeling, he covered
the Captain, just as the Captain drew a revolver of his own. For a
second no one moved; Poodle, Jolls, the guards at the door, all stood
with held breath, while the General on his knees and the Captain
standing covered each other with their guns. Then Jolls picked up a
chair and swung it high over the General’s head, behind.
Poodle forgot his own revolver and swiftly adopted class-rush
tactics. Swinging his leg about, he kicked Mr. Jolls in the puffy
fat ankles, just once. That was enough. The business man dropped the
chair with an “Ouch” as foolish as the squeak of a mouse.
Just then there was a commotion at the door. The guards faced about,
and right into them charged Jack Adeler and his armed aids. The
guards rushed out.
Through the window slid Hike Griffin, tottering from his exposure,
but a very grim look on his face. He dropped fairly on top of the
astonished Captain, caught the revolver with his toe, and sent it
hurtling to the roof. The General was up instantly, and roared to
Captain Welch and Jolls, “Into that corner there, or I’ll fire.” The
two plotters backed into a corner, and the General kept them both
covered.
Three of the guards were covered by the Lieutenant and his soldiers.
One was down and out from a soldier’s club-blow. But Snafflin had
dropped on his stomach and was wriggling off through the grass. From
an outside corner of the cabin, scarcely seen in the dim light from
scattered lanterns, he carefully aimed his revolver at the Lieutenant.
Just then Bat—one of those covered by the Lieutenant’s men—made a
flying leap toward the corner of the house. One of the soldiers
fired, and the bullet took Bat in the shoulder. But Bat caught
Snafflin’s wrist, and rolled over in the grass, still feebly
holding the revolver. As he let it go, Hike darted over and fell
upon Snafflin, catching him full in the face with his fist. He got
a wrestler’s half-Nelson on Snafflin, and before the thug could
recover, Poodle had slipped a pair of handcuffs on him.
The General now marched out his two chief plotters, and made a short,
sweet speech to all of them:
“You gentlemen—I’ll have to let you all go—including your chief
rascal, Mr. Jolls. I have no civil warrant for your arrest—didn’t
have time to get one. I apologize for the neglect. But I’ll have
warrants issued at once. Jolls, I’ll not only have you arrested, but
I’ll see that every bit of the news about your plans is given to the
Associated Press, and that you are disgraced for life. You, Captain
Welch, I place you under arrest. You will come with us. You needn’t
be told what will happen to you. There’s one of your thugs who has
saved the Lieutenant’s life—I saw the incident through the door.”
The General pointed to Bat, and Hike said, “Bat’s his name. He was
kind to me when I was tied up—mighty kind. Wanted to let me go. I’d
like to see him freed.”
The General continued, “Well, the rest of you—except Captain Welch
and Bat—you can all lay down your revolvers and get out of that gate.
You’d better make the best time you can, for permit me to warn you
that I’ll have the best detectives in the country on your trail as
soon as warrants are issued.”
Four of the five hired thugs, with Jolls at their head, hastily
sneaked down the hill, toward the place where Jolls’ automobile
had been left. (They were destined to have a cheerful little
disappointment for the Lieutenant had found the automobile, while
waiting for the signal, and, being in uniform, had been able to send
the chauffeur flying off to town, by threatening to arrest him.)
The victors were left with Bat and the Captain. The latter stood
sulkily waiting. Bat was sitting on the grass, with Poodle tying up
the injured shoulder with a strip of his own shirt sleeve. Up to him
came Hike, exclaiming, “Bat, old man, I’d like to shake hands with
you.”
“_All_ right, kid,” said Bat, cheerfully, “I’d jus’ soon—but take my
left wing. T’other just got on the bum. I was picking a bullet out of
the air—like baseball.”
“Bat,” said the General, “I’d like to have you make—what do you call
it? Oh—I’d like to have you ‘make a getaway.’ Have you any money?”
“About ten dollars.”
“Well, here’s forty. That will help some. Now promise me you’ll
get away as quickly as you can. I’ll see that the detectives
don’t search for you as hard as they do for the others, but your
connection with the gang will get you into trouble unless you get
good and far away from here.”
“I’ll do it, sir,” declared Bat. “Thanks for the forty. I’ll beat it.”
He rose, rather dizzily, shook hands with Hike silently, and headed
for the gate. Then the captors turned to their prisoner, Captain
Welch.
He faced them, grimly. He had not given up the game yet.