THE RESCUE
Needless to say, it was some time after he was roughly thrown into the
bottom of the motor boat before Jack came to his senses. The
chloroform had taken effect quickly, and the soaked handkerchief had
not remained very long over his mouth and nostrils, or Jack might have
ended his career then and there. As it was, however, the rush of the
cool night air as the swift motor boat sped along the quiet waters of
the lake did a good deal to revive him, and it was, comparatively
speaking, only a short time before he realized where he was--or,
rather, realized that he had been snatched from his blanket, and was
being carried off somewhere, probably by those who had anything but
good-will toward him.
His first impulse was to cry out, but he checked himself, for he
realized that his best chance just then was to feign an ignorance of
his surroundings that would throw his abductors off their guard. If he
made them think that he was still senseless, he might find some way of
escape opening before him, and he might, too, overhear something that
he could turn to his own advantage.
It was pitch dark in the bottom of the boat, and his eyes, moreover,
were aching. His whole head throbbed as he came out of the effects of
the deadly drug that had been used to make him helpless, and he decided
that the first thing he should do was to give nature and the healing
air a chance to restore him to his senses and some semblance of a
better physical condition. He was in no state now to do anything to
help himself, and he had no idea of whether or not any of his comrades
had taken the alarm when he was carried off. He was senseless when the
men who had caught him were making their escape, and he had no way of
telling what had happened.
He guessed, even before he saw the evil face of the man who sat up in
the bow, stripped now of his black mask, and gloating over his success,
that it was one of the trapped and disappointed train wreckers who now
had him in his power, and he shivered a little at the thought of what
his fate might be. A man who had planned such a fiendish crime was not
likely to be anything but brutal in his treatment of one of those who
had helped to foil him, and Jack understood that perfectly well. If he
had needed anything more to make him realize his position it was
supplied in a moment.
"I wonder if that young whelp's shammin', or if we really knocked him
out with the dope?" asked the man who had worn the mask.
And, by way of finding out, he lurched back, and kicked Jack brutally
in the ribs. Jack expected the blow, and managed to relax so that no
bones were broken by the kick, though he was sore for hours. Moreover
he fortified himself so that, although the pain of the kick was far
from trifling, he did not cry out.
Satisfied, the man made his way to the bow.
"Dead to the world!" he said. "That's all right! We'll get him
through the lock. That's better. I don't want to knock him on the
head and throw him overboard here--his body would turn up too soon.
Once we're through the lock we can get down the river all right, and
they'll never know what happened to him. I hope Dick don't make any
mistake about meeting us with the big boat. This is a tidy little
craft, but she's not meant for deep water sailing."
"How about the others?" asked the man at the wheel, in a nervous, timid
tone that made Jack grin. Only one of his captors was formidable,
anyhow, and that was something to be thankful for.
"I don't care about the others," replied the other, with a vile oath.
"They'll have to save themselves. And they'll be in jail for the next
ten years, sure. More fools they for gettin' caught! An' it was only
kids as did them up. If they'd taken my advice, it wouldn't never have
happened."
"You oughtn't to have stopped for this kid. It was too risky."
"Risk? My eye! Ain't everythin' we do risky? An' it's the only
chance the others have got, anyhow. He's the biggest witness against
them. He saw their mugs--no one else did. They'll have trouble
getting off, anyhow, even if he ain't there. But he'd finish them,
sure. An' he cost me twenty thousand dollars with his infernal buttin'
in, too. I ain't overlookin' a chance to get hunk with him, the little
rip!"
He was almost shouting in his rage.
"Easy there!" said the timid one, in a low tone. "We're getting near
the lock. Look out, or you'll have everyone on to us."
"Right, oh! I'll shut up. Time enough to attend to him later, anyhow."
The boat slowed down, now, and Jack guessed that they were near the
lock that formed the outlet of the lake into the river that ran through
the city, the same river on which he had his exciting experience with
the river pirates. Late as it was, the lock was quickly opened at the
insistent, shrill call of the power boat's whistle, and in a moment it
was in the narrow channel that led from river to lake.
It was Jack's chance. Here, where the banks were close on either side,
if he could slip overboard, there was a chance to swim to the safety of
the shore. He was still weak and dizzy from the effects of the drug,
but he had an idea that if he could get into the water it would
complete the work of reviving him, and he determined to make the
effort. Both of the men who made up the crew of the little craft were
busy as they passed through the lock, and, thinking him unconscious,
they paid no attention to him.
Silently he slipped to the side. And, a second later, he dropped
overboard. Silent as he was, he made a splash as he struck the water,
and, at the sudden curse from the robber in front, and his quick leap
around, Jack determined on the boldest and the riskiest move he could
have made. But it was also the safest. Instead of striking out at
once for the shore, he slipped around behind the motor boat, and clung
to the stern as it swept along, clear of the propeller, but hidden by
the shadow from the overhanging stern.
At the same moment there was a sudden outburst of shouts from the
shore, and where all had been silence and darkness lights sprang out
and the forms of excited, running men and boys appeared.
The headlight of an automobile was suddenly thrown on the scene, and
Jack, guessing who was there, called out that he was safe and in the
water.
"Swim ashore, Jack," shouted Dick Crawford's welcome voice, and a
moment later, all fear of his captors gone now, Jack was helped up the
steep bank.
"We got them in a trap," cried Dick Crawford. "I figured they'd have
to come this way. They can't turn around, and the gate of the lock is
closed against them at the river end. They're bottled in here, and
they can't escape, no matter which way they turn."
In the power boat the big man who had carried Jack off was standing up
now, cursing volubly, and trying to see what lay ahead of him. But it
did not take him long to see and realize that all hope of escape in
that direction was cut off. The boat had come to a full stop, and he
looked about him in desperation, his mask on his face again. He held a
revolver in his hand, but, for some reason, he did not fire.
"Careful, fellows!" cried Dick Crawford. "He's got a gun there, and
you can't tell how soon he'll begin shooting."
"Not very soon, Dick," said Jack Danby, with a laugh. "He left his gun
within reach of me, thinking I was still senseless, and I took all the
cartridges out. There was a box half full of cartridges and I dropped
that overboard, too, so I guess his teeth are drawn unless one of them
has another gun."
"Good work, Jack! He'd find it hard to hit any of us, but it's good to
think he can't even try, anyhow. You surely had your nerve with you to
think of that."
"I had to, Dick. I was going to make a break for it here in the lock,
anyhow, and I didn't want him to be able to take a shot at me from
behind while I was trying to climb up to the shore. It would have been
too easy for him to hit me, and from the way he talked there's nothing
he'd like better than to use me as a target."
Suddenly the roar of the boat's engine broke put again.
"What's he trying to do now?" shouted Dick, racing for the opening of
the lock.
The gate that barred the boat was in place. But suddenly Dick
understood. The desperado in the launch intended to be true to his
nature. He saw just one chance of escape in a thousand, and he meant
to take it, perilous as it was.
Straight for the gate he drove the boat. The man at the wheel was
crying out in piteous fear and the burly ruffian stepped back from the
bow, crushed his friend to the deck of the boat with a brutal blow, and
took the wheel himself.
"They'll both be killed," cried Dick. "He can't mean to drive against
the gate."
But that was just what was in the desperate robber's mind. He saw and
weighed the chances that were against him, but he was ready to risk
life itself for liberty, and, in that desperate moment even Dick and
Jack, debased as they knew the man to be, could not but admire his
daredevil courage.
At top speed the launch crushed into the barrier. There was a terrific
crash, and those, including Durland, who stood on the gate, leaped back
precipitately.
For an instant the timbers shivered. Then, with a crash, they gave
way, and the launch hurled through and dropped to the surface of the
river. There, for a moment, it spun around. But the boat was well
built. It stood the shock, and the next second, swaying from side to
side, it was dashing away, past the possibility of pursuit. Jack was
saved, but the villain had escaped--for the time at least.