As the shades of evening had drawn down two figures that had been
lurking all day in the fastnesses of Lone Valley over beyond the state
Highway, stole forth and crept stealthily under cover to Stark Mountain.
A long time they lingered in the edge of the woods till the dark was
velvet black around them, before the moon arose. Then slowly, cautiously
they drew near the haunted house, observing it long and silently from
every possible angle, till satisfied that no enemy was about. Yet taking
no chances even then, the taller one crept forth from shelter while the
other watched. So stealthily he went that even his companion heard no
stir.
It was some ten minutes that Shorty waited there in the bushes scarcely
daring to breathe, while Link painfully quiet, inch by inch encircled
the house, and listened, trying the front door first and finding it
fast; softly testing the cellar windows one by one, beginning from the
eastern end, going toward the front first, and so missing the window by
which Billy had entered. A hundred times his operation was halted by the
sound of a rat scuttling across the floor, or racketing in the wall, but
the hollow echoes assured him over and over again that the house was not
occupied, at least not by anyone awake and in his senses. Link had been
in the business so long that he “felt” when there was an enemy near.
That was what vexed him now. He had “felt” that morning that someone was
near, but he had laid it to nerves and the reported ghost, and had not
heeded his trained faculties. He was back now doubly alert to discover
the cause and make good his failure in the morning. He had undertaken to
look after this guy and see this job through and there was big money in
it. He was heavily armed and prepared for any reasonable surprise. He
meant to get this matter straight before morning. So, feeling his way
along in the blackness, listening, halting at every moment with bated
breath, he came at last to the back door, and drawing himself up to
the steps, took the knob in his hand and turned it. To his surprise
it yielded to his touch, and the door came open. And yet it was some
seconds of tense listening before he let himself down to the ground
again, and with his hand in the grass let out a tiny winking flashlight,
no more than a firefly would flicker, and out again.
This was answered by a wink from the bushes, as if the same firefly or
its mate might be glowing, and after an instant another wink from the
ground near the house. Slowly Shorty arrived without noise, his big bulk
muffling in fat the muscles of velvet. It was incredible how light his
step could be--_professionally._ It was as if he had been wafted there
like down. Silently still and without communication the two drifted into
the open door, sent a searching glowworm ahead into the crannies of
the dusty, musty kitchen, surprising a mouse that had stolen forth
domestically. The door being shut and fastened cautiously, the key in
Link's pocket, they drifted through the swing door, as air might have
circulated, identifying the mouse's scuttle, the rattle of a rat among
the loose coal in the cellar bin, the throaty chirp of a cricket outside
in the grass, and drifting on.
Thus they searched the lower floor, even as Billy had done, though more
thoroughly, and mounted to the landing above, here they divided, Shorty
at watch in the hall, while Link went to the front rooms first and
searched each hastily, not omitting closets, ending at the back room
where the prisoner had been.
“He's gone!” said Link in a hoarse whisper, speaking for the first time
after a hasty scanning of the shadowy place.
Shorty took the precaution to turn the key of the door leading to the
third story before he entered to investigate.
“Do you think it was him fired that shot?”
Link shook his head.
“Couldn't! I had him lifted up in my arms and was just handing him some
more dope when the sound come. It seemed it was out front. It must a
been somebody in the front room. Sure! That guy never coulda got them
bracelets off hisself. Looka here! Them was filed off!” They stood with
the flash light between them examining the handcuffs, and then turned
their attention to the rest of the room, studying the bed and floors
carefully for any traces of the possible assistant to the runaway but
finding none. Then they went in the front room again, and this time
discovered the lowered window and the little half moon aperture in the
shutter.
“How do you figger it?” asked Shorty turning a ghastly face toward Link
in the plaided darkness of the flash light.
“Pat!” said Link laconically.
“Pat?”
“Pat. He's yella! I told Sam, but he would have him! I ain't sure but
Sam's yella! I think I'm about done with this outfit!”
“But Pat? What would he do it for?”
“Goin to run the whole game hisself, perhaps, or then again he might be
in with Sam, so they won't have to divvy up. He could say we hadn't kept
out contrac' you know, runnin' away like that.”
“We ain't to blame. How'd we know it want the police? We had a mighty
close shave over that state line this A.M.”
“Well, that's what he could say, an' refuse to divvy up. But b'lieve me,
Shorty! Nobody's goin' to do me dirty like that! Somebody's been doing
us dirty, you and me, and it's good and right we beat 'em to it.”
“Yes, but how ya goin' to do it?”
“I ain't sure yet, but I'm goin' to do it. The first thing, Shorty, is
fer us to get outta here mighty good an' quick. Ef anybody's watchin'
round, we better not be here. We'll fade away. See?”
Without flash or noise they faded, going cautiously out by the front
door this time and disappearing into the dark of the woods just as
the horizon over Lone Valley began to show luminous in the path of the
oncoming moon.
They walked several miles, stealthily, and a mile or two more naturally,
before they ventured on a word, and then Shorty impatiently:
“I don't see what you can do. Whattirya goin' ta do?”
“Don't get excited, Shorty, I see my way out,” said Link affably, “I
didn't come off here half cocked. I investigated before I took on the
job.”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“Well, I just looked up the parties in the blue book before I come off.
Didn't have much time, but I just looked 'em up. Great thing that blue
book. Gives ya lots of information. Then I got another thing, a magazine
I always buy and keep on hand. It's called The House Lovely, an' it has
all these grand gentlemen's places put down in pictures, with plans and
everything. It's real handy when you wantta find out how to visit 'em
sort of intimate like, and it kind of broadens yer mind. It's a real
pity you never learned to read, Shorty. There's nothing like it fer
getting valuable information. I read a lot and I always remember
anything that's worth while.”
“I don't see how that's doin' us any good now,” growled Shorty.
“Don't get hasty, Shorty, I'm comin' to it. You see these here Shaftons
have been on my mind fer some while back. I make it a point to know
about guys like that. I read the society columns and keep posted about
little details. It pays, Shorty. Now see! I happen to know that these
here Shaftons have several summer homes, one in the mountains, one at
the seashore, one up at an island out in the ocean, and a farm down in
Jersey, where they go at Christmas fer the holidays sometimes. Well,
just now I happen to know Mrs. Shafton--that's this guy's mother, is
down at the Jersey house all alone with the servants. Real handy fer our
purposes, ain't it? Not so far we can't get there by mornin' if we half
try, and the old man is off out West on a business trip.”
“What you gonta do?” asked Shorty.
“Well, I haven't exactly got it all doped out yet, but I reckon our
business is with the old lady. Let's beat it as fast as we can to a
trolley and dope it out as we go. You see this here old woman is nuts on
her son, and she's lousy with money and don't care how she spends it,
so her baby boy is pleased. Now, I figger if we could come off with
five thousand apiece, you'n I we'd be doin' a good night's work and no
mistake. Whaddayou say?”
“Sure thing,” grumped Shorty unbelievingly.
“You see,” continued Link, “We're in bad, this guy escaping and all, and
like as not Pat swiping all the boodle and layin' the blame onto us. You
can't tell what might happen with Pat an' Sam, the dirty devils. They
might even let it come to a trial and testify against us. Sam has it in
fer me an' you this long time, 'count of that last pretty little safe
blow-out that didn't materialize. See?”
Shorty growled gloomily.
“Now on the other hand if we can step in before it is too late, or
before the news of his havin' escaped gets to his fond parents, and get
in our little work, we might at least make expenses out of it and beat
it out of the country fer a while. I been thinkin' of South America fer
my health fer some time past. How 'bout you?”
“Suits me. But how you gonta work it?”
“Well, you see I know a little bit about wimmen. An' I seen this woman
oncet. If she was one of these here newfangled political kind you
couldn't do nothin' with her, she'd be onta you in no time an' have you
up before the supreme court 'fore she goddone, but this here woman is
one o' them old fashioned, useless kind that's afraid of everything and
cries easy, and gets scairt at her shadder. I seen her on the board
walk once with her husband, took notice to her, thought I might need
it sometime. She has gray hair but she ain't never growed up. She was
ridin' in a wheeled chair, an' him walkin' beside her an' a man behind
pushin' her, an' a maid comin' along with a fur coat. She never done
a thing fer herself, not even think, an' that's the kind you can put
anything over on from a teaparty to a blizzard without her suspectin' a
thing. Shorty, I'm gonta make up to Mrs. Shafton an' see what I can get
out of her. But we gotta get a trolley line down to Unity an' catch that
evenin' train. See?”
About half-past ten that night, with the moon at full sail, Shorty and
Link, keeping the shady side of the street, slunk into a little obscure,
and as yet unsuppressed saloon in a back street in a dirty little
manufacturing city not many miles from Unity. Just off the side entrance
was a back hall in which lurked a dark smelly little telephone booth
under a staircase, too far removed from the noisy crowd that frequented
the place to be heard. Here Link took instant refuge with Shorty bulking
largely in front of the door, smoking a thin black twisted cigar, and
looking anything but happy. He had figured greatly on getting his share
of a million, and now at a single shot he had let it go through his
fingers. There were reasons why he needed that part of a million at
once. Link had all sorts of nerve. He called up the Shafton home in New
Jersey and jollied the maid, calling her girlie, and saying he was in
the employ of young Laurie Shafton and had a special private message
from the young man to his mother. It was not long before a peevish
elderly voice in his ear said:
“Well? Mrs. Shafton at the phone.”
And Link sailed in:
“Mrs. Shafton, I got a message from your son, a very private message.
He said, would you please send your maid out of the room first before I
told you?”
She seemed annoyed and hesitant at this, but finally complied:
“Now, Mrs. Shafton, you don't need to get worried at what I'm tellin'
you. Your son ain't dead, nor nothing like that you know, but he's just
met with a little accident. No, now, wait a minute till I tell you. You
don't need to get excited ner nothing. If you just keep calm an' do as I
tell you it'll all come out right in the end--”
He could tell by her voice that she was much excited and that so far his
scheme was working well. If he could only pull the rest off! He winked
one eye jauntily at Shorty who was standing wide-mouthed, bulging-eyed
listening, and went on:
“No, he didn't have no collision, ma'am, he just got kidnapped you see.
And not wanting to get found out, natchelly the kidnappers give him a
little dope to keep his mouth shut fer a while. What's that? Who'm I?
Well, now, Mrs. Shafton, that's tellin,' ain't it? I wouldn't want to
go so far as that 'thout I was sure of your cooperation. What's that?
You'll reward me? Oh, thanks, that's what I was figgering about. You see
I'm in rather of a hole myself. That's what. You see, much against my
will I was one of the kidnappers myself ma'am. Yes ma'am, much against
my will! You see I'm a farmer's son myself, good an' honest and
respectable. Never had nothin' to do with such doin's in my life, my
word of honor, lady. But I come to town just to look around an' have a
bit of fun an' I got in with a bad lot, an' they pract'cally _compelled_
me to assist 'em in this here kidnappin.' Oh, I didn't do nothin', jest
helped to carry him--Oh, ma'am, it ain't that bad. He's still livin'
an' he'll be awwright if you just he'p me to get him away 'thout their
knowin'. Yes ma'am. I'm honest. I'm offerin' to help you. You see,
when I see him layin' there on the bed--Oh, yes, he's on a bed, I ain't
sayin' how comfortable it is, but it's a bed, an' he ain't sufferin'
now,--but of course if they don't get what they want they may put him to
the torture jest to get more outta you all--No, ma'am don't scream that
way ur I'll have to hang up. This is on the q.t. you know. What? You
don't understand? Why, I was sayin' you mustn't let a soul know what's
happened. Not a _soul._ If it should get out an' his kidnappers should
find it out they'd kill him easy as a fly an' no mistake. You gotta go
slow on this. Yes, lady, they're desperate characters, _I'm sayin' it!_
an' the sooner you get your son outta their han's the better fer his
future, lady, fer even if he should escape after they'd been found out
they'd probably lame him fer life or put out his eyes or some little old
thing like that, so you see, lady, you gotta talk low an' take care you
don't let on to no one. If you should turn yella it ud be all up with
little Laurie an' no mistake, so keep yer mouth shet an' do as I tell
ye, and I'll help ye out. Yes, as I was sayin' when I seen little Laurie
layin' there so still an' white, my conscience--There, there, lady,
don't you take on--as I was sayin' my conscience troubled me, an' I
says, I'm agonta get this fella free! So I figgered out a way. You see
lady, there's two of us, me'n another feller set to watch 'im, an' feed
him dope if he tries to wake up, an' when I get feelin' worried about it
I says to the other fella I was agonta tell his folks, an' he says he'll
shoot me, but I keeps on tellin' him how sinful 'twas to make a poor
mother suffer--I gotta mother myself ma'am! Yes ma'am a good old mother,
an' she taught me to be honest, so I says to thother fella, I says
what'll you take an' git out, an' he says ten thousand dollars, an' I
says, awwright, I'll get it fer ya, an' so now lady, 'f I was you I'd
pay it right down quick 'fore he changes his mind. Cause the other
fellas they was goin' to ast a million, an' kill 'im if you didn't fall
fer it right to oncet. No ma'am I don't want nothin' fer myself. I just
want to go back to the old farm with a clean conscience. What? Oh, yes,
I want the money right away, that is before mornin'. If we can't get him
out before mornin' it ain't no use, fer the other fellas is comin' back
an' move him an' we can't do nothin'? What? Where is he? I couldn't'
really say, lady, it wouldn't be allowed, an' my mate he's outside the
telephone booth with a loaded revolver holdin' it up to my head, and
he's listenin' an' ef I give anythin' away he'd shoot me on the spot.
So where would your nice lookin' son be then? Mrs. Shafton hadn't you
better--? That's right lady, I knew you'd thank me, an' yes, now I'll
tell you what to do. First place, how much money ya got in the house?
No, that's not 'nough. That wouldn't do a mite of good, it wouldn't be
a drop in the bucket. Ain't ya got any bonds, ur jewels or papers? Yes,
that's the talk! Now yer shoutin'--Yes, lady, that would do. No,--not
that. You gotta have something that he can't get caught with. I know
you're loosin' a lot lady, but you got lots left, and what's money an'
jewels compared to your only son, ma'am? Why, think how he used to look
when he wore little white dresses an' used to come to have his head
kissed when he fell down! Wasn't he sweet, lady, and he had a pair of
little blue shoes didn't he? I thought so. Say, lady, you'r the right
sort! I knowed you must be to be a mother of such a handsome son. Now,
lady, could you hustle those things together you spoke of an' any more
you may happen to come on, and just put 'em in a little box or basket,
and tie a string on 'em an' let 'em down outta yer winda? It's all I'll
ask. Let 'em down outta yer winda. Then you turn out the lights and
turn 'em on again three times real quick, out an' in, an' that'll be the
signal. An' after ten minutes you look out yer front winda an' off as
fur as ye can see an' I'll flash a signal light to ya jest to let ya
know it's all right. An' I'll promise you on my word of honor that
you'll hear your own son's voice over the telephone good an' early
tomorrow mornin' an' no mistake. But lady, ye mustn't turn yella an'
holler ner nothin or we'll fling yer jewels an' paper back in yer yard
an' let yer son die. We ain't goin' to run no chances ye know. You ain't
got no dogs, have ye? And which side is yer room on? The front? Yes,
an' which is the easiest way to get to the house without comin' near the
servants' quarters? To the right? Yes, I see. An' you'll play straight?
All right lady. Your son's as good as home now. I'll give you just one
hour by the clock to get yer stuff together, but mind ya, if ya weaken
an' try to put the p'lice onto me, I got a way to signal my pal, an'
he'll have that boy o' yours shot within five minutes after you call fer
help? Understand? Oh, yes, I know lady, you wouldn't do no such a thing,
but my pal he made me say that. He's a desperate man lady, an' there
ain't no use toyin' with him. All right. One hour. It's just quarter to
'leven. Good-bye!”
Link came lounging out of the booth mopping his wet forehead:
“She fell fer it all right,” he said jerking a wan smile, but he
looked as though the last of his own nerve had gone into the telephone
receiver. “She wanted to put in an extra check, but I told her we'd be
generous and let it go at what she could find without her name on it.
Gosh, what fools some wommen are! I thought I got her number all right,
a whimperin' fool! A whimperin' little old fool! Now, Shorty, all we
gotta do is collect the boodle. It's up to you to watch outside the
hedge. I'm takin' all the risks this time m'self, an' I'm goin' to
ferret my way under that there madam's winder. You stay outside and
gimme the signal. Ef you get cold feet an' leave me in the lurch you
don't get no dividends, See?”