HOW JACK JELLUP LOST AN ARM
In spite of his fatigue Ned did not sleep soundly. It had been
threatening a thunder storm all evening and the increasing
oppressiveness of the air made the young, aeronaut wakeful. The
long whistle and jarring stop of the midnight local train finally
fully aroused him. In the west the thunder was rumbling and great
sheets of heat lightning promised a storm in a short time. After
slipping out into the corral and seeing that the waterproof silk
sides of the car were securely buttoned around the engine Ned
returned and again tried to go to sleep.
But his restlessness continued. In his early sleep he had had a
vivid dream about the wagon expedition. In this he thought that
Marshal Jack Jellup had followed Elmer, Bob and Buck and set fire to
the wagons while his friends were asleep in camp. It was a relief
to awaken and find that the flash of light was lightning and not, as
he had imagined in his dream, an explosion of the gasoline carried
in Buck's big wagon. He lay awake awhile regretting the quarrel
with Jellup, and then he sank into a doze again.
But his active brain would not rest. Again he fell into a dream.
This time the picture was very real. The big balloon had been
finished and launched. A thrill ran through him as he felt the
monster craft poise and waver and then slowly rise above the corral.
He could hear the cheers of those gathered about. But in the midst
of them he heard the sudden crack of a revolver. Jack Jellup had
put a bullet through the silken bulk of the bag. The cold
perspiration broke out on Ned's forehead.
The dream was so real that he thought he could hear the taunting
voice of Jellup. In feverish excitement Ned sprang upright, to find
a pair of strong arms clasped about him. He did not cry out. A
wave of cold fear seemed to benumb his tongue and brain. He knew
this was no dream.
Forced onto his back, his face and eyes partly covered by the
shoulders of his sudden captor, Ned's returning consciousness made
him aware that there was a dim light in the office.
"It's Jellup, Ned," exclaimed in a whisper a sudden voice which Ned
instantly recognized as Alan's.
"No more from you," exclaimed a rough voice in quick reply. "Here's
the rope, Domingo."
The man on top of Ned knew his business. Almost before the boy
realized what was being done his hands and feet were caught in
dexterous knots and he was helpless.
"Now," continued the other voice, "let's have a few minutes' talk."
Ned's assailant had arisen, and for the first time the boy could
look about. In the center of the room, with a sputtering candle in
his hand, stood the revengeful Jellup. His companion Ned at once
remembered as one of the noisy court room spectators of the day
before. Between the two, clad in his pajamas and similarly bound,
was poor Alan.
"Ye can stand or set, jist as ye like," began Jellup. "Me and me
deputy hev made this little visit to ye fur a purpose. The citizens
of this town is tired of yer carryin's on and they've just delegated
me to ascertain what it all means. We got a purty good idee."
"Well, what is your idea?" interrupted Ned, slowly regaining his
composure and his natural defiance.
"My idee is that ye don't need no flyin' machine anywhar except to
git away quick and what we want to know is what air ye goin' to take
with you when ye fly away?"
"Nothing that doesn't belong to us," answered Ned, "if that is what
you mean."
"Ye ain't, eh? I suppose ye don't know that thar's enough cow money
in our bank to be worth stealin'?"
Both Ned and Alan looked at each other astounded.
"You don't think we look like safe robbers, do you?" began Alan.
"Ye look just slick enough fur that and more," retorted the marshal
who had placed the candle on the table and roughly pulled Ned to his
feet. "But I didn't come here to argy. Ye began by vilatin' the
law and ye didn't come the way down here for no fun. Ef that ain't
yer game, and we don't put it above ye, what's yer lay?"
"There's only one answer," said Ned. "None of your business."
The marshal shoved Ned nearer the table.
"Mebbe ye want to apologize fur that little bluff of yers
yesterday--"
"No," said Ned, "but I'll accept yours."
Jellup's right hand was on his revolver.
"I ain't hyar to make no threats," he exclaimed, "and ye don't need
to be afeered that I'm going to shoot ye. But I've got just one
other little proposition. Ef ye don't cotton to that, why, thar
ain't agoin' to be no Fourth o' July balloon ascension around hyar."
Ned straightened up.
"Your proposition can't be a fair one or you wouldn't come like a
thief at this time of night--"
Jellup's pistol flashed in the air but fell back again as the
marshal's left hand shot upward and struck Ned full in the face.
Even as the tears sprang into the bound boys eyes and pain and anger
flushed his pallid face, the cowardly Jellup fell backward and
stumbled to the floor. Alan, standing just behind the man, had shot
his knees forward, striking Jellup's legs in the hollow of his
knees, and, thrown off his balance, the westerner lay sprawling on
the floor. Before the marshal's confederate could interfere, Alan,
tightly as he was bound, had flung himself on top of Jellup and with
all the power he could throw into the act had butted his head into
the marshal's face.
Am oath and a cry of pain indicated how true the stroke had been.
Both Ned and the companion of Jellup sprang forward at the same time
and the four fell in a silent distorted heap. But the encounter was
unequal. In another moment both boys were lying side by side on the
floor and their captors stood over them. Even in the half light of
the little room both boys could see the blood-smeared cheek of the
marshal.
Jellup's hand was on Domingo's arm holding him back from further
attack on the helpless boys and the marshal was restraining his
anger as a snake withholds its venom until it strikes.
"Purty good," sneered the marshal, "and the funny thing is ye hain't
got a bullet through ye fur it. But my business ain't with dead
ones. Onct more, air ye goin' to say what ye'r a plannin' to do?"
"Since it doesn't concern you in the least," said Ned, slowly, "no."
Jellup was silent a moment.
"Fur kids ye seem to have plenty o' money. Ye'r purty free
spenders. I'll give ye one more chance. Ef ye've got a thousand
dollars handy fur a kind of a bond as it were I guess that'll sort
o' protect us."
"You mean for bribery?" exclaimed Alan.
"No, just instead of stealing," angrily added Ned. "We haven't a
thousand dollars and if we had you couldn't get a cent of it. And
to save you some trouble I'll say that what we have is in your
bank."
Another half-uttered oath sounded on Jellup's lips.
"In thet case," retorted the marshal, "we'll jest show you that we
mean business. That's a lie about the bank. Produce or take the
consequences."
"Help yourself," replied Ned, "if you think we are lying."
"I ain't no pickpocket," retorted Jellup, "this is official. I tell
ye it's a bond and this is yer last chanct to make good."
The boys remained silent.
But Jellup's companion was already busy. Leaving the marshal to
stand guard over the boys he made a quick search of their clothing.
But Ned was not so used to money as to be careless in the handling
of it and the six hundred dollars that he had in gold was in a belt
carefully concealed in the top of the liquid hydrogen crate, which,
for safety, had been stored in a corner of the room.
When the silent Domingo threw down the working garments of the boys
he took up the candle and began a tour of the room. The big black
liquid hydrogen crate attracted his attention and he approached it.
The red "Explosive--no fire" letters of warning apparently meant
nothing to him, but Jellup halted him with a sharp warning, followed
by a few words in Mexican. Domingo handed the candle to Jellup and
the latter stepped toward the box.
"That means what it says," exclaimed Ned quickly and sharply.
The crate stood as it had been carried from Washington with the top
on and the connecting hose extended upward through a hole made in
the low roof in order that the slowly accumulating reconverted gas
might escape in safety.
"Mebbe," said Jellup, "mebbe yes and mebbe no. I guess they ain't
nothin' agoin' to explode that ain't set afire."
Ned noticed with satisfaction that the lid was properly locked.
Jellup noticed it too. Without a word, he turned and easily found
Ned's keys. Again he approached the crate, looking over the keys.
"Jellup," exclaimed Ned in alarm, "there's gas in that box, and if
you go near it with a light you'll blow us all up."
"Gas, eh?" answered the eager Jellup. "Don't run no sich bluffs on
me."
"I warn you," cried Ned as the man approached the box, "it's taking
your life in your hands."
Something in the tone of Ned's voice must have alarmed Jellup, for
he paused. Then he retreated a few steps and handed the almost
burned out candle to the vigilant Domingo.
"I allow I kin jest hev a look without no light to oblige you. I've
been purty curious about this precious package ever since I see it.
And ye'r a sight too anxious consarnin' my safety."
What might really happen Ned did not exactly know. The gas
generated from the liquid hydrogen was highly inflammable and
explosive when confined. But the evaporation was exceedingly slow
and the exhaust hose should easily carry the forming gas in safety
to the air. But even a small accumulation might be in the partly
depleted bulbs or the top of the crate and a fire would certainly
ensue even if there was no violent explosion. And besides, just
beneath the lid was their money--the cash Ned had secured for their
further expenses and the return home.
"We are anxious for all of us," explained Alan.
"And mebbe anxious fur something else," sneered the marshal. "I
reckon a peek in the dark ain't agoin' to hurt no one--an' it may
help some."
"Drop on your face, Alan," whispered Ned, "and lie flat."
It was the only precaution they could take. Both felt that all
their plans might end in a moment. But Ned could not resist
watching--even though his face was close to the floor. He saw
Jellup examine each key, guess the right one at once and then insert
it in the lock. Yet, despite his assumed bravado, it was apparent
that the man had considerable apprehension. For, before he turned
the lock, he motioned to Domingo to retire further with the candle.
Finally, as if summoning his courage, the avaricious marshal snapped
the key, threw back the catches on each end of the crate and then
slowly and gingerly and at arm's length began to lift the lid. With
the top an inch ajar he paused, waited a moment or two, and then
began sniffing as if searching for an odor.
Ned saw him.
"It doesn't smell," he explained quickly, "but it's there. Look
out!"
"Don't smell!" retorted Jellup. "Gas as don't smell? Well, that's
agoin' some, I guess."
Nevertheless, he had dropped the lid.
But as quickly recovering himself he reached forward again and with
a quick motion threw the top up and sprang back.
To Ned's relief nothing happened. Either the light was too far away
or the gas had all been removed by the hose. But this relief was
quickly succeeded by another alarm. There had been no explosion,
but their financial means were now at the mercy of two thieves, and
he and his churn, bound and helpless, were powerless to protect
either themselves or their funds. There was nothing to be done but
to grin and bear it. For Ned's new leather money belt, containing
six hundred dollars in gold was stretched out conspicuously and at
full length on top of one of the two rows of glass bulbs in the
case.
"Lyin', as I thought," exclaimed Jellup. "Gimme' the light,
Domingo." And the chuckle that followed almost instantly was
indication enough that he had discovered the boys' small fortune.
"Dangerous, eh!" he laughed. "Now, we'll see if the city gits its
bond."
Then he paused as if a thought had entered his head.
"But, jest to keep the record clean, I reckon ye'd better give it to
me yerself, young 'un. Jack Jellup ain't no burglar. Loosen him
up, Domingo. And fur fear ye might need persuadin' jest take a peek
at this," and he drew his revolver.
When Ned had been liberated, Jellup pointed to the money belt.
"Jest be good enough to hand me whatever's in that," he exclaimed,
"without no hesitation. Then we'll have a little talk about what
else is agoin' to happen."
It was hard to surrender so easily but the risk of attacking two
armed men single-handed was great. Ned walked slowly toward the
crate.
"Get busy," ordered Jellup; "we've got other business yit to talk
of."
Ned had a sudden impulse. The thing flashed on him and taking hold
of the belt in the middle he lifted it until the two ends were just
over an open-mouthed bulb of hydrogen, and then as if by accident
dropped the belt into the jar. The clear, watery liquid splashed
and the belt disappeared.
"Water," shouted the eager Jellup, "Jist plain water." And as Ned
sprang back the gold-fevered marshal sprang forward and plunged his
hand into the liquid.
He did not immediately know that his hand was in the depth of a
liquid whose temperature was 423 degrees below zero. But the thin
film of gas that instantly formed and protected his naked flesh
dissipated in a moment and then one benumbing, paralyzing shock
swept over Jack Jellup's body.
With a cry wrung from him by pain such as few mortals have ever
experienced and survived, the stricken man fell unconscious to the
floor--his arm frozen as solid as crystallized steel.