where they left him after notifying the coroner by telephone. Half of
Burton's men were sent to the north side of the woods and half to the
road upon the south of the Squibbs' farm. There they separated and
formed a thin line of outposts about the entire area north of the road.
If the quarry was within it could not escape without being seen. In the
mean time Burton telephoned to Oakdale for reinforcements, as it would
require fifty men at least to properly beat the tangled underbrush of
the wood.
*****
In a clump of willows beside the little stream which winds through the
town of Payson a party of four halted on the outskirts of the town.
There were two men, two young women and a huge brown bear. The men and
women were, obviously, Gypsies. Their clothing, their head-dress, their
barbaric ornamentation proclaimed the fact to whoever might pass; but no
one passed.
“I think,” said Bridge, “that we will just stay where we are until after
dark. We haven't passed or seen a human being since we left the cabin.
No one can know that we are here and if we stay here until late to-night
we should be able to pass around Payson unseen and reach the wood to the
south of town. If we do meet anyone to-night we'll stop them and inquire
the way to Oakdale--that'll throw them off the track.”
The others acquiesced in his suggestion; but there were queries about
food to be answered. It seemed that all were hungry and that the bear
was ravenous.
“What does he eat?” Bridge asked of Giova.
“Mos' anything,” replied the girl. “He like garbage fine. Often I take
him into towns late, ver' late at night an' he eat swill. I do that
to-night. Beppo, he got to be fed or he eat Giova. I go feed Beppo, you
go get food for us; then we all meet at edge of wood just other side
town near old mill.”
During the remainder of the afternoon and well after dark the party
remained hidden in the willows. Then Giova started out with Beppo in
search of garbage cans, Bridge bent his steps toward a small store upon
the outskirts of town where food could be purchased, The Oskaloosa Kid
having donated a ten dollar bill for the stocking of the commissariat,
and the youth and the girl made their way around the south end of the
town toward the meeting place beside the old mill.
As Bridge moved through the quiet road at the outskirts of the little
town he let his mind revert to the events of the past twenty four hours
and as he pondered each happening since he met the youth in the dark of
the storm the preceding night he asked himself why he had cast his
lot with these strangers. In his years of vagabondage Bridge had never
crossed that invisible line which separates honest men from thieves and
murderers and which, once crossed, may never be recrossed. Chance and
necessity had thrown him often among such men and women; but never had
he been of them. The police of more than one city knew Bridge--they knew
him, though, as a character and not as a criminal. A dozen times he had
been arraigned upon suspicion; but as many times had he been released
with a clean bill of morals until of late Bridge had become almost
immune from arrest. The police who knew him knew that he was straight
and they knew, too, that he would give no information against another
man. For this they admired him as did the majority of the criminals with
whom he had come in contact during his rovings.
The present crisis, however, appeared most unpromising to Bridge. Grave
crimes had been committed in Oakdale, and here was Bridge conniving
in the escape of at least two people who might readily be under police
suspicion. It was difficult for the man to bring himself to believe that
either the youth or the girl was in any way actually responsible for
either of the murders; yet it appeared that the latter had been present
when a murder was committed and now by attempting to elude the police
had become an accessory after the fact, since she possessed knowledge
of the identity of the actual murderer; while the boy, by his own
admission, had committed a burglary.
Bridge shook his head wearily. Was he not himself an accessory after the
fact in the matter of two crimes at least? These new friends, it seemed,
were about to topple him into the abyss which he had studiously avoided
for so long a time. But why should he permit it? What were they to him?
A freight train was puffing into the siding at the Payson station.
Bridge could hear the complaining brakes a mile away. It would be easy
to leave the town and his dangerous companions far behind him; but even
as the thought forced its way into his mind another obtruded itself to
shoulder aside the first. It was recollection of the boy's words: “Oh,
Bridge, I don't want to leave you--ever.”
“I couldn't do it,” mused Bridge. “I don't know just why; but I
couldn't. That kid has certainly got me. The first thing someone knows
I'll be starting a foundlings' home. There is no question but that I am
the soft mark, and I wonder why it is--why a kid I never saw before
last night has a strangle hold on my heart that I can't shake loose--and
don't want to. Now if it was a girl I could understand it.” Bridge
stopped suddenly in the middle of the road. From his attitude he might
have been startled either by a surprising noise or by a surprising
thought. For a minute he stood motionless; then he shook his head again
and proceeded along his way toward the little store; evidently if he had
heard anything he was assured that it constituted no menace.
As he entered the store to make his purchases a foxeyed man saw him and
stepped quickly behind the huge stove which had not as yet been taken
down for the summer. Bridge made his purchases, the volume of which
required a large gunny-sack for transportation, and while he was
thus occupied the fox-eyed man clung to his coign of vantage, himself
unnoticed by the purchaser. When Bridge departed the other followed him,
keeping in the shadow of the trees which bordered the street. Around
the edge of town and down a road which led southward the two went until
Bridge passed through a broken fence and halted beside an abandoned
mill. The watcher saw his quarry set down his burden, seat himself
beside it and proceed to roll a cigaret; then he faded away in the
darkness and Bridge was alone.
Five or ten minutes later two slender figures appeared dimly out of the
north. They approached timidly, stopping often and looking first this
way and then that and always listening. When they arrived opposite the
mill Bridge saw them and gave a low whistle. Immediately the two passed
through the fence and approached him.
“My!” exclaimed one. “I thought we never would get here; but we didn't
see a soul on the road. Where is Giova?”
“She hasn't come yet,” replied Bridge, “and she may not. I don't see how
a girl can browse around a town like this with a big bear at night and
not be seen, and if she is seen she'll be followed--it would be too much
of a treat for the rubes ever to be passed up--and if she's followed she
won't come here. At least I hope she won't.”
“What's that?” exclaimed The Oskaloosa Kid. Each stood in silence,
listening.
The girl shuddered. “Even now that I know what it is it makes me creep,”
she whispered, as the faint clanking of a distant chain came to their
ears.
“We ought to be used to it by this time, Miss Prim,” said Bridge. “We
heard it all last night and a good part of to-day.”
The girl made no comment upon the use of the name which he had applied
to her, and in the darkness he could not see her features, nor did
he see the odd expression upon the boy's face as he heard the name
addressed to her. Was he thinking of the nocturnal raid he so recently
had made upon the boudoir of Miss Abigail Prim? Was he pondering the
fact that his pockets bulged to the stolen belongings of that young
lady? But whatever was passing in his mind he permitted none of it to
pass his lips.
As the three stood waiting in silence Giova came presently among them,
the beast Beppo lumbering awkwardly at her side.
“Did he find anything to eat?” asked the man.
“Oh, yes,” exclaimed Giova. “He fill up now. That mak him better nature.
Beppo not so ugly now.”
“Well, I'm glad of that,” said Bridge. “I haven't been looking forward
much to his company through the woods to-night--especially while he was
hungry!”
Giova laughed a low, musical little laugh. “I don' think he no hurt you
anyway,” she said. “Now he know you my frien'.”
“I hope you are quite correct in your surmise,” replied Bridge. “But
even so I'm not taking any chances.”
*****
Willie Case had been taken to Payson to testify before the coroner's
jury investigating the death of Giova's father, and with the dollar
which The Oskaloosa Kid had given him in the morning burning in his
pocket had proceeded to indulge in an orgy of dissipation the moment
that he had been freed from the inquest. Ice cream, red pop, peanuts,
candy, and soda water may have diminished his appetite but not his pride
and self-satisfaction as he sat alone and by night for the first time in
a public eating place. Willie was now a man of the world, a bon vivant,
as he ordered ham and eggs from the pretty waitress of The Elite
Restaurant on Broadway; but at heart he was not happy for never before
had he realized what a great proportion of his anatomy was made up
of hands and feet. As he glanced fearfully at the former, silhouetted
against the white of the table cloth, he flushed scarlet, assured as he
was that the waitress who had just turned away toward the kitchen with
his order was convulsed with laughter and that every other eye in the
establishment was glued upon him. To assume an air of nonchalance and
thereby impress and disarm his critics Willie reached for a toothpick in
the little glass holder near the center of the table and upset the sugar
bowl. Immediately Willie snatched back the offending hand and glared
ferociously at the ceiling. He could feel the roots of his hair being
consumed in the heat of his skin. A quick side glance that required all
his will power to consummate showed him that no one appeared to have
noticed his faux pas and Willie was again slowly returning to normal
when the proprietor of the restaurant came up from behind and asked him
to remove his hat.
Never had Willie Case spent so frightful a half hour as that within the
brilliant interior of The Elite Restaurant. Twenty-three minutes of this
eternity was consumed in waiting for his order to be served and seven
minutes in disposing of the meal and paying his check. Willie's method
of eating was in itself a sermon on efficiency--there was no lost
motion--no waste of time. He placed his mouth within two inches of his
plate after cutting his ham and eggs into pieces of a size that would
permit each mouthful to enter without wedging; then he mixed his mashed
potatoes in with the result and working his knife and fork alternately
with bewildering rapidity shot a continuous stream of food into his
gaping maw.
In addition to the meat and potatoes there was one vegetable in a
side-dish and as dessert four prunes. The meat course gone Willie placed
the vegetable dish on the empty plate, seized a spoon in lieu of knife
and fork and--presto! the side-dish was empty. Whereupon the prune dish
was set in the empty side-dish--four deft motions and there were no
prunes--in the dish. The entire feat had been accomplished in 6:34 1/2,
setting a new world's record for red-headed farmer boys with one splay
foot.
In the remaining twenty five and one half seconds Willie walked what
seemed to him a mile from his seat to the cashier's desk and at the
last instant bumped into a waitress with a trayful of dishes. Clutched
tightly in Willie's hand was thirty five cents and his check with a like
amount written upon it. Amid the crash of crockery which followed the
collision Willie slammed check and money upon the cashier's desk and
fled. Nor did he pause until in the reassuring seclusion of a dark
side street. There Willie sank upon the curb alternately cold with fear
and hot with shame, weak and panting, and into his heart entered the
iron of class hatred, searing it to the core.
Fortunately for youth it recuperates rapidly from mortal blows, and
so it was that another half hour found Willie wandering up and down
Broadway but at the far end of the street from The Elite Restaurant. A
motion picture theater arrested his attention; and presently, parting
with one of his two remaining dimes, he entered. The feature of the bill
was a detective melodrama. Nothing in the world could have better suited
Willie's psychic needs. It recalled his earlier feats of the day,
in which he took pardonable pride, and raised him once again to a
self-confidence he had not felt since he entered the ever to be hated
Elite Restaurant.
The show over Willie set forth afoot for home. A long walk lay ahead of
him. This in itself was bad enough; but what lay at the end of the long
walk was infinitely worse, as Willie's father had warned him to return
immediately after the inquest, in time for milking, preferably. Before
he had gone two blocks from the theater Willie had concocted at least
three tales to account for his tardiness, either one of which would
have done credit to the imaginative powers of a Rider Haggard or a
Jules Verne; but at the end of the third block he caught a glimpse of
something which drove all thoughts of home from his mind and came
but barely short of driving his mind out too. He was approaching the
entrance to an alley. Old trees grew in the parkway at his side. At the
street corner a half block away a high flung arc swung gently from its
supporting cables, casting a fair light upon the alley's mouth, and just
emerging from behind the nearer fence Willie Case saw the huge bulk of a
bear. Terrified, Willie jumped behind a tree; and then, fearful lest
the animal might have caught sight or scent of him he poked his head
cautiously around the side of the bole just in time to see the figure of
a girl come out of the alley behind the bear. Willie recognized her at
the first glance--she was the very girl he had seen burying the dead man
in the Squibbs woods. Instantly Willie Case was transformed again into
the shrewd and death defying sleuth. At a safe distance he followed the
girl and the bear through one alley after another until they came out
upon the road which leads south from Payson. He was across the road when
she joined Bridge and his companions. When they turned toward the old
mill he followed them, listening close to the rotting clapboards for
any chance remark which might indicate their future plans. He heard them
debating the wisdom of remaining where they were for the night or moving
on to another location which they had evidently decided upon but no clew
to which they dropped.
“The objection to remaining here,” said Bridge, “is that we can't make a
fire to cook by--it would be too plainly visible from the road.”
“But I can no fin' road by dark,” explained Giova. “It bad road by day,
ver' much worse by night. Beppo no come 'cross swamp by night. No, we
got stay here til morning.”
“All right,” replied Bridge, “we can eat some of this canned stuff and
have our ham and coffee after we reach camp tomorrow morning, eh?”
“And now that we've gotten through Payson safely,” suggested The
Oskaloosa Kid, “let's change back into our own clothes. This disguise
makes me feel too conspicuous.”
Willie Case had heard enough. His quarry would remain where it was
over night, and a moment later Willie was racing toward Payson and a
telephone as fast as his legs would carry him.
In an old brick structure a hundred yards below the mill where the
lighting machinery of Payson had been installed before the days of the
great central power plant a hundred miles away four men were smoking as
they lay stretched upon the floor.
“I tell you I seen him,” asserted one of the party. “I follered this
Bridge guy from town to the mill. He was got up like a Gyp; but I knew
him all right, all right. This scenery of his made me tink there was
something phoney doin', or I wouldn't have trailed him, an' its a good
ting I done it, fer he hadn't ben there five minutes before along comes
The Kid an' a skirt and pretty soon a nudder chicken wid a calf on a
string, er mebbie it was a sheep--it was pretty husky lookin' fer a
sheep though. An' I sticks aroun' a minute until I hears this here
Bridge guy call the first skirt 'Miss Prim.'”
He ceased speaking to note the effect of his words on his hearers. They
were electrical. The Sky Pilot sat up straight and slapped his thigh.
Soup Face opened his mouth, letting his pipe fall out into his lap,
setting fire to his ragged trousers. Dirty Eddie voiced a characteristic
obscenity.
“So you sees,” went on Columbus Blackie, “we got a chanct to get both
the dame and The Kid. Two of us can take her to Oakdale an' claim
the reward her old man's offerin' an' de odder two can frisk de Kid,
an'--an'--.”
“An' wot?” queried The Sky Pilot.
“Dere's de swamp handy,” suggested Soup Face.
“I was tinkin' of de swamp,” said Columbus Blackie.
“Eddie and I will return Miss Prim to her bereaved parents,” interrupted
The Sky Pilot. “You, Blackie, and Soup Face can arrange matters with The
Oskaloosa Kid. I don't care for details. We will all meet in Toledo as
soon as possible and split the swag. We ought to make a cleaning on this
job, boes.”
“You spit a mout'ful then,” said Columbus Blackie.
They fell to discussing way and means.
“We'd better wait until they're asleep,” counseled The Sky Pilot. “Two
of us can tackle this Bridge and hand him the k.o. quick. Eddie and Soup
Face had better attend to that. Blackie can nab The Kid an' I'll annex
Miss Abigail Prim. The lady with the calf we don't want. We'll tell her
we're officers of the law an' that she'd better duck with her live stock
an' keep her trap shut if she don't want to get mixed up with a murder
trial.”
*****
Detective Burton was at the county jail in Oakdale administering the
third degree to Dopey Charlie and The General when there came a long
distance telephone call for him.
“Hello!” said the voice at the other end of the line; “I'm Willie Case,
an' I've found Miss Abigail Prim.”
“Again?” queried Burton.
“Really,” asserted Willie. “I know where she's goin' to be all night. I
heard 'em say so. The Oskaloosie Kid's with her an' annuder guy an' the
girl I seen with the dead man in Squibbs' woods an' they got a BEAR!” It
was almost a shriek. “You'd better come right away an' bring Mr. Prim.
I'll meet you on the ol' Toledo road right south of Payson, an' say, do
I get the whole reward?”
“You'll get whatever's coming to you, son,” replied Burton. “You say
there are two men and two women--are you sure that is all?”
“And the bear,” corrected Willie.
“All right, keep quiet and wait for me,” cautioned Burton. “You'll know
me by the spot light on my car--I'll have it pointed straight up into
the air. When you see it coming get into the middle of the road and wave
your hands to stop us. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said Willie.
“And don't talk to anyone,” Burton again cautioned him.
A few minutes later Burton left Oakdale with his two lieutenants and a
couple of the local policemen, the car turning south toward Payson and
moving at ever accelerating speed as it left the town streets behind it
and swung smoothly onto the country road.
*****
It was after midnight when four men cautiously approached the old mill.
There was no light nor any sign of life within as they crept silently
through the doorless doorway. Columbus Blackie was in the lead. He
flashed a quick light around the interior revealing four forms stretched
upon the floor, deep in slumber. Into the blacker shadows of the far end
of the room the man failed to shine his light for the first flash had
shown him those whom he sought. Picking out their quarry the intruders
made a sudden rush upon the sleepers.
Bridge awoke to find two men attempting to rain murderous blows upon
his head. Wiry, strong and full of the vigor of a clean life, he pitted
against their greater numbers and cowardly attack a defense which was
infinitely more strenuous than they had expected.
Columbus Blackie leaped for The Oskaloosa Kid, while The Sky Pilot
seized upon Abigail Prim. No one paid any attention to Giova, nor, with
the noise and confusion, did the intruders note the sudden clanking of
a chain from out the black depths of the room's further end, or the
splintering of a half decayed studding.
Soup Face entangling himself about Bridge's legs succeeded in throwing
the latter to the floor while Dirty Eddie kicked viciously at the
prostrate man's head. The Sky Pilot seized Abigail Prim about the waist
and dragged her toward the doorway and though the girl fought valiantly
to free herself her lesser muscles were unable to cope successfully
with those of the man. Columbus Blackie found his hands full with The
Oskaloosa Kid. Again and again the youth struck him in the face; but
the man persisted, beating down the slim hands and striking viciously
at body and head until, at last, the boy, half stunned though still
struggling, was dragged from the room.
Simultaneously a series of frightful growls reverberated through the
deserted mill. A huge body catapulted into the midst of the fighters.
Abigail Prim screamed. “The bear!” she cried. “The bear is loose!”
Dirty Eddie was the first to feel the weight of Beppo's wrath. His foot
drawn back to implant a vicious kick in Bridge's face he paused at the
girl's scream and at the same moment a huge thing reared up before him.
Just for an instant he sensed the terrifying presence of some frightful
creature, caught the reflected gleam of two savage eyes and felt the
hot breath from distended jaws upon his cheek, then Beppo swung a single
terrific blow which caught the man upon the side of the head to spin him
across the floor and drop him in a crumpled heap against the wall, with
a fractured skull. Dirty Eddie was out. Soup Face, giving voice to
a scream more bestial than human, rose to his feet and fled in the
opposite direction.
Beppo paused and looked about. He discovered Bridge lying upon the floor
and sniffed at him. The man lay perfectly quiet. He had heard that often
times a bear will not molest a creature which it thinks dead. Be that as
it may Beppo chanced at that moment to glance toward the doorway. There,
silhouetted against the lesser darkness without, he saw the figures of
Columbus Blackie and The Oskaloosa Kid and with a growl he charged them.
The two were but a few paces outside the doorway when the full weight of
the great bear struck Columbus Blackie between the shoulders. Down
went the man and as he fell he released his hold upon the youth who
immediately turned and ran for the road.
The momentum of the bear carried him past the body of his intended
victim who, frightened but uninjured, scrambled to his feet and dashed
toward the rear of the mill in the direction of the woods and distant
swamp. Beppo, recovering from his charge, wheeled in time to catch a
glimpse of his quarry after whom he made with all the awkwardness that
was his birthright and with the speed of a race horse.
Columbus Blackie, casting a terrified glance rearward, saw his Nemesis
flashing toward him, and dodged around a large tree. Again Beppo shot
past the man while the latter, now shrieking for help, raced madly in a
new direction.
Bridge had arisen and come out of the mill. He called aloud for The
Oskaloosa Kid. Giova answered him from a small tree. “Climb!” she cried.
“Climb a tree! Ever'one climb a small tree. Beppo he go mad. He keel
ever'one. Run! Climb! He keel me. Beppo he got evil-eye.”
Along the road from the north came a large touring car, swinging from
side to side in its speed. Its brilliant headlights illuminated the road
far ahead. They picked out The Sky Pilot and Abigail Prim, they found
The Oskaloosa Kid climbing a barbed wire fence and then with complaining
brakes the car came to a sudden stop. Six men leaped from the machine
and rounded up the three they had seen. Another came running toward
them. It was Soup Face, so thoroughly terrified that he would gladly
have embraced a policeman in uniform, could the latter have offered him
protection.
A boy accompanied the newcomers. “There he is!” he screamed, pointing at
The Oskaloosa Kid. “There he is! And you've got Miss Prim, too, and when
do I get the reward?”
“Shut up!” said one of the men.
“Watch this bunch,” said Burton to one of his lieutenants, “while we
go after the rest of them. There are some over by the mill. I can hear
them.”
From the woods came a fear-filled scream mingled with the savage growls
of a beast.
“It's the bear,” shrilled Willie Case, and ran toward the automobile.