ROUNDING UP THE SCOUNDRELS
To say that Joe was astounded would be putting it too mildly. He was
almost paralyzed with astonishment. He was not accustomed to being
embraced by women, elderly or otherwise, in public places.
He flushed a fiery red as he gently loosened the firm hold of the
woman’s arms, and his embarrassment was not lessened by the grins of
the spectators who had paused to witness the scene nor by Reggie’s
undisguised amusement at his plight.
As the woman fell away from him he saw that her face was somewhat
scarred, as if from burns. He looked again and something familiar about
her appearance brought the truth to his mind like a flash.
It was Mrs. Bultoza, the woman whom he had saved from the burning house
down at the southern training camp!
“Oh, you brave young man!” she said, with her foreign accent. “How
glad I am to see you and thank you again. I have remembered you in
my prayers every night. You saved my life. And you did not forget the
lonely old woman in the hospital and sent her flowers. Oh, I am so
happy to see you again!”
She made as though to embrace him again, but Joe diplomatically evaded
this by stooping to pick up her scattered packages. Then he took her
by the hand and led her to a bench at the extreme end of the subway
station.
“I am very glad that you seem to be all right again after your
accident,” he said kindly. “I never expected to see you so far north as
this. Are you visiting friends here?”
“I have just come to join my husband,” she said. “He has been living
and working here for some time, and now he has sent for me to join him.”
“In what line of business is he?” Joe asked, more to make conversation
than anything else.
“He is a scientist,” returned Mrs. Bultoza. “He is poor because he has
spent all his money on making an invention. And now he has succeeded,
he tells me. Oh, he is a very smart man,” she added proudly.
Joe had pricked up his ears at the word “scientist.”
“What is his invention?” he asked.
“I do not know exactly,” she replied. “It is electric――something like
what you call an X-ray, I think. But I have no head for such things.”
This reply interested Baseball Joe more than ever and he asked the
woman to describe her husband’s appearance and this she did so well it
instantly brought a gleam of satisfaction to Joe’s face.
“Where does your husband live?” he asked.
She gave him a crumpled slip of paper on which an address in an uptown
district was written.
“I’ll go up with you,” volunteered Joe. “Come along, Reggie. We’ll take
a taxi and get up there in a few minutes.”
Mrs. Bultoza protested that he must not take so much trouble, but Joe
overrode her protests, helped her into the taxicab, and in a little
while they were at the address given.
They inquired of the janitor, and were directed to a room on the top
floor.
A door opened at their knock and Joe saw the face of the old scientist
who had lived opposite him.
But the old man had eyes only for his wife, and they rushed into each
other’s arms in a way that bespoke the deep affection that existed
between them.
Joe and Reggie averted their eyes and lingered about uneasily.
The first effusion having passed, Mrs. Bultoza exclaimed:
“And what do you think? I met the brave young man who saved my life in
the fire. Oh, I was so happy to see him and thank him again! He was
kind enough to bring me all the way up here, and now you can thank him,
too.”
The old scientist advanced with beaming face and extended hands. Then,
for the first time, he saw Joe’s face.
For a moment he stood as if paralyzed. Then he dropped into a chair,
covered his face with his hands, and cried like a child.
“He saved your life!” he cried hoarsely between sobs. “He saved your
life! And I have injured him, might have killed him! God have mercy on
me!”
Then to his wife, who knelt by his side, pale and horrified, the old
man told his story, with frequent interruptions and questions on the
part of his wife and Joe, told how he had needed money to finance his
invention, how he had met Harrish in trying to raise funds for his
experiments, and of how the latter had advanced money on condition that
he should test his invention on Joe. He had been sorely pressed, he had
been told that the conspirators did not want to injure Joe permanently
but just to weaken him for the next few months, and he had yielded to
temptation, not realizing the enormity of the project.
“Now you can put me in prison,” he said brokenly. “I deserve it. I
would give my life to undo what I have done to you――to you who saved my
wife’s life!”
Mrs. Bultoza’s imploring and tear-wet face was too much for Joe. He
thought quickly.
“I am not going to put you in prison,” he said. “But you must do one
thing for me. I want you to send a telephone message to Harrish and
Tompkinson telling them that you must see them at four o’clock this
afternoon. Tell them that it’s important and they must come. They won’t
dare not to.”
The agreement was made and Joe and Reggie hurried down to the cab and
were borne to the Westmere Arms, where Joe put in a busy half hour with
the telephone.
A few minute before four o’clock Harrish’s limousine stopped at the
house where Bultoza lived. The owner, accompanied by Tompkinson,
hurried up to the top floor.
They knocked at Bultoza’s door and he admitted them. The old scientist’s
wife had been sent away for the time being.
“What’s up?” asked Harrish, as he and his companion entered the room.
“I need some more money,” said Bultoza. “My wife is coming to live
with me and my expenses will be greater.”
“You’ve had all you’re going to get,” snarled Tompkinson. “I’m tired of
being panhandled. You’ve fallen down on your job anyway.”
“That’s right,” chimed in Harrish. “You haven’t kept your contract by a
long shot. We paid you to ruin Matson’s pitching arm with that infernal
ray of yours. Did you do it? Here he is going along better than ever.
What have we got for our money?”
“Nothing much so far,” said Joe, stepping out from the adjoining room.
“But you’re going to get a good deal more before I’m through with you!”