HOW THE SCHEME WORKED
“The folks will leave the house,” said Tom Wagstaff, “about half-past
seven, and there will be no one home but me and Maggie, the girl. I’ll
be up in my room and Maggie down-stairs. When I lean out the window
and wave my hand I want you, Jim, to fire two or three charges out of
your revolver through the winders of the dining-room.”
“What for?” asked the startled Jim.
“Wait, and I’ll tell you; the noise of the pistol and the breaking of
the glass will scare Maggie half to death: she will run out of the
house, and you and Billy must then slip inside, hurry up-stairs, tie
me to the bed-post, and put a gag in my mouth. I’ll have all the money
and jewelry ready in a handkerchief, and you can scoot with it. Maggie
will run down to the Hall and tell father and mother, and they’ll
hurry home and be so scared they won’t know what to do. They’ll untie
me, and I’ll pretend I’m almost dead, and they’ll call in the police,
and when I come to, I’ll have a story to tell about robbers with masks
on their faces, and all that sort of thing, and they’ll hunt for ’em,
and never smell a mouse. What do you think of it, fellers?”
It was a scheme which, in its vicious cunning, was worthy of older
scamps than these three young school-boys; but their minds were
poisoned by pernicious reading, and they eagerly entered into its
spirit. Everything promised success, and Tom, the originator of the
plan, found his companions as eager as himself to lend a hand in
carrying it out.
It seemed as if fate had arranged to help the boys. When the three
climbed over the fence again into the highway, and separated to their
homes, Tom, in order that there should be no miscarriage of the
programme, took pains to be particularly ugly and impudent to his
parents. His kind-hearted father was disposed at first to recall the
threat made in the morning that his son should not go with the rest to
the concert in the Town Hall, but he was so irritated by the behavior
of the lad that he not only carried out his threat, but was on the
point of chastising him before leaving home.
It followed, therefore, that when eight o’clock came, the condition of
the household was just what Tom prophesied and wished. Maggie, the
hired girl, was busy at her duties below-stairs, when he stole softly
to the upper story and began his work of ransacking the
bureau-drawers. He found considerable jewelry belonging to his mother
and sisters, besides over seventy dollars in money which his father
had left within easy reach.
All this was gathered into a handkerchief, which was securely tied and
placed on a chair beside the window, where the gas was burning at full
head. Then, everything being in readiness, he quietly raised the
window and looked out.
The night was dark, without any moon, and even his keen eyes could
detect nothing among the dense trees which surrounded the fine
residence of his father. But, when he whistled, there was a reply from
under the branches which he recognized as coming from his allies, who
were on the lookout.
Tom waved his hand, lowered the sash, and stepped back from the
window.
Maggie was singing below-stairs and, with that exception, everything
was still. His heart beat fast as he knew that the opening of the
drama, as it may be called, was at hand.
Suddenly the sharp report of a pistol rang out on the night, followed
by a second and third shot, mingled with the crash and jingle of
glass. Jim McGovern was doing his part with unquestioned promptness.
The singing of Maggie ceased as if she were paralyzed by the shock;
but with the third report her scream pierced every nook in the
building, and she was heard running to and fro as if in blind terror.
She would have dashed up-stairs to escape, but a noise on the rear
porch caused her to believe the burglars were about entering the
building, and she was certain to be killed if she remained.
Through the front door she went in the darkness, her screams stilled
through fear that the dreaded beings would be guided by them; and,
recovering her senses somewhat when she reached the street, she
hurried in the direction of the Town Hall to acquaint Mr. and Mrs.
Wagstaff with the awful goings-on at home.
Billy Waylett and Jim McGovern were on the watch, and the moment she
vanished they entered through the rear door, which remained unlocked,
and hastened up-stairs to the room where the gas was burning and from
which Tom had signalled to them.
“Quick, fellers!” he said, as they burst into the apartment, “father
will soon be back.”
“Where’s the rope?” asked Jim.
“There on the chair.”
“What’s that handkerchief for?”
“The money and jewelry is in it; tie me first and then hurry out with
that, and take good care of it till to-morrow, when we will fix
things; hurry up!”
Billy had the rope in hand, and both boys set to work to bind the
young rogue to the bed-post. Since the victim gave all the aid he
could, the task was completed with less delay and difficulty than
would have been supposed.
This was due also to the preparations which Tom had made for the
business. A strong bed-cord, cut in several pieces, was at hand. His
wrists were bound together behind his back; then his ankles were
joined, and finally the longest piece of rope was wound several times
around his waist and made fast to the bed-post. This rendered him
helpless, and he could not have released himself had his life been at
stake.
But the shrewd boy knew that something more must be done. Though tied
securely, his mouth was at command, and it was to be expected that he
would use his voice with the fullest power the moment his captors left
him alone.
But with all the cunning displayed by Tom, and with all his perfect
preparations in other respects, and after having referred to the
necessity of the gagging operation, he had forgotten to be ready for
it.
“What shall we put in your mouth?” asked Jim, pausing and looking
round after the binding was finished.
“Golly! I forgot all about that,” was the reply.
Billy darted to the bureau and caught up a large hair-brush.
“How’ll this do?” he asked, holding it up to view.
“It won’t do at all,” was the disgusted reply; “it’s too big for my
mouth.”
“I don’t know ’bout that; you’ve got the biggest mouth in school.”
“We’ll take a sheet off the bed,” said Jim, beginning to tug at the
coverlets.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Tom; “do you think you can cram a
whole sheet in my mouth?”
“Why not?”
“’Cause you can’t; that’s the reason.”
“I have it,” exclaimed Billy, running to the corner of the room and
catching up a porcelain cuspidor; “this will just fit. Open your
mouth, Tom, and give me a chance.”
But at this juncture, when the perplexity threatened to upset
everything, Billy Waylett solved the difficulty by whisking out his
linen pocket-handkerchief.
“Now you’re talking,” remarked the pleased Tom; “why didn’t we think
of that before?”
It was curious, indeed, that they did not, and it was curious, too, in
view of the cunning shown in other directions, that all three forgot a
precaution which ought to have occurred to them.
A handkerchief was just the thing to be used to seal the mouth of the
victim, but it should have come from the pocket of Tom Wagstaff
instead of from Billy Waylett’s.
Perhaps had the boys felt that abundance of time was at command, they
would have thought of this necessity; but they were well aware that
Maggie, the servant, was making good speed to the Town Hall, and that
Mr. Wagstaff would not let the grass grow under his feet on his way
home. Besides, too, the screams of the girl were likely to bring
others to the spot before the coming of the owner of the house. The
boys, therefore, had not a minute to throw away, and they did not idle
their time.
The twisted handkerchief was pushed between the open jaws of the
victim, like the bit in a horse’s mouth, and then knotted and tied
behind his head. Billy, who took charge of this little job, was not
over-gentle, and more than once the victim protested. Little heed,
however, was paid to him, and his words were but feeble mumblings when
sifted through the meshes of the handkerchief.
“There! I guess that’ll do,” said Billy, stepping back and surveying
his work; “how do you feel, Tommy?”
The latter nodded his head, mumbled, and tried to speak. He was urging
them to leave, but his words were unintelligible.
Meanwhile Jim had picked up the other handkerchief, tied at the
corners, and was surprised to find how heavy it was. It contained much
valuable property.
The boys were reminded of their remissness by the sound of voices on
the outside. Neighbors were at hand.
“We’re caught; it’s too late; what shall we do?” gasped Jim, dropping
the handkerchief with its precious contents.
“They will hang us for bigamy,” replied Billy, turning pale and
trembling in every limb.
Tom Wagstaff tried hard to utter a few words, and was struggling to
free himself, but succeeded in neither attempt.
“Come on!” whispered Jim, catching up his load again; “they haven’t
got in, and we may have a chance.”
He whisked through the open door, and scurried down the carpeted
stairs, with Billy so close on his heels that both narrowly escaped
bumping and rolling to the bottom.
The voices were louder, and it looked as if the youngsters were
caught.
And such would have been the case, but for the timidity of the parties
out-doors. They had been drawn thither by the out-cries of the
servant, and were convinced that some fearful tragedy was going on, or
had been completed within the dwelling.
These people were unarmed, and it was only natural that they should
shrink from entering where several desperate men were supposed to be
at bay. They consulted with each other and decided to await the
arrival of re-enforcements.
This was the golden opportunity of the young scamps. The rear door was
ajar and they noiselessly drew it inward far enough to allow them to
pass through.
Before venturing forth they peeped out in the darkness. They could see
nothing, though, for that matter, there might have been a dozen
persons within a few feet without being visible; but the room in which
the lads stood was also without a light, so that the advantage was
equal.
The sound of the voices showed that the new arrivals were at the
front, and the way was open for the flight of the amateur burglars,
who still hesitated, afraid that men were lying in wait to nab them.
More than likely they would have tarried too long, but for a movement
on the part of the newcomers. They were increasing so fast that they
became courageous, and one of them pushed open the front door.
The creaking of its hinges and the tramping in the adjoining room
spurred Jim and Billy, who hesitated no longer. Through the door they
stole on tip-toe, and a few steps took them across the porch to the
soft ground, where the soft earth gave back no sound. The trees, too,
seemed to spread their protecting branches over them, and inspired
them with such courage that, after hurrying a few rods, they came to a
stop and looked back and listened.
“By George! that was the luckiest thing that ever happened to us!”
whispered Jim McGovern, with a sigh of relief.
“That’s so,” assented his companion; “I thought we was goners sure,
and we come mighty nigh it.”
“I wonder whether that gag is too tight in Tom’s mouth?”
“No, of course not; can’t he breathe through his nose?”
“But mebbe he has a cold.”
“That won’t make any difference, for he knows how to breathe through
his ears; Tom’s too smart to die yet. Besides, if he _is_ dead,
it’s too late for us to help him; them folks are upstairs by this
time, and they’ll get the handkerchief out of his mouth in a jiffy,
unless, mebbe, he has swallowed it.”
“I say, Billy,” said Jim, “this thing in my hand weighs more than a
ton!”
“It must have lots of gold in it; shall I help you carry it?”
“No, I can manage it; but what shall we do with the thing? It won’t do
to take it home, for our folks might find it.”
“We’ll bury it under that stump back of our barn.”
“Is that a good place?”
“There aint any better in the world, for nobody wouldn’t think of
looking there for it.”
“I seen our dog Bowser pawing under the stump the other day.”
“But he wasn’t pawing for money; we’ll hide it there till we’re ready
to use it.”
The two moved off, when they heard another cry from the house behind
them. They recognized it as the voice of Mrs. Wagstaff, who had
arrived on the scene with her husband, and was probably overcome at
sight of the woful plight of her boy.