BOB HAS A LIVELY FIGHT
Barker was alone, and no sooner had he disappeared over the high board
fence, than Bob made up his mind to follow him.
It was quite dark by this time, and perched on the top of the fence Bob
could see little or nothing. He listened intently, but nothing save the
hissing of escaping steam reached his ears.
The yard was one attached to a planing mill and box factory. It was
filled with boards and packing cases, and affording a number of
excellent hiding-places.
Bob dropped inside the yard and stole cautiously forward until he
reached a sort of driveway which divided the yard into two parts.
Nothing was yet to be seen of Barker, and Bob was puzzled to know what
had become of the robber.
Stepping to a nook near a high pile of lumber, Bob stopped once more to
listen.
Was he mistaken, or had he heard the faint creaking of a board to his
left?
He bent in the direction and waited. No; he was not mistaken; there was
the noise again.
Feeling around, Bob found a billet of wood. It was two feet long, and
more than an inch thick, and would answer very well as a club.
With the stick in his hand, he made his way cautiously to the spot
whence the sound had proceeded.
Suddenly something brushed past him, and a second later he found
himself confronted by Barker, who caught him by the arm.
“What are you following me for?” demanded the man.
Instead of replying Bob raised the stick and struck the fellow on the
head.
“Stand where you are, Barker!” he cried.
“What, Bob Pe----” began Barker, and stopped short.
“You know me, I reckon,” returned the youth. “Stand where you are,
unless you want another taste of this stick.”
“Was it you in the hall-way of that building?” demanded Barker, in
astonishment.
“It was. Where are Casco and Grogan?”
“Skipped the town,” returned the robber. “Are you alone?” he went on,
anxiously, as he tried to pierce the darkness behind Bob.
“Never mind about that,” returned the youth.
“You come along with me.”
“Where to?”
“I’ll soon show you.”
“I don’t think I will be such a fool.”
“If you don’t come along, I’ll knock you over with this stick,”
returned Bob, decidedly. “I don’t propose to stand any more fooling.”
“You talk mighty big for a boy,” sneered Barker.
“Perhaps I do, but I mean what I say. Come, move along.”
Instead of complying, Barker made a spring for the youth.
Bob retreated, and the next instant the stick descended on the robber’s
head with such force that the man was knocked flat on his back.
“Now will you mind?” demanded the youth, standing over him with the
stick upraised.
“The old Nick take you!” cried Barker, in a rage. “Let up there!”
“Will you promise to go along if I do?”
Barker hesitated. His head ached from the blow Bob had administered,
and he did not wish such a dose repeated.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I’ll go. But, Bob, you are making a great mistake.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You are. Do you know me?”
“I know you are the man who said my father was a thief,” was the bitter
answer.
“I was only fooling, Bob.”
“I knew you wasn’t telling the truth.”
“I thought I could get you to join in our little plan to make money.”
“And you found out I wasn’t built that way, Barker.”
“That’s so. But you are making a big mistake by handing me over to the
police.”
“I think it will be a first-class job done.”
“You want to learn something about yourself, don’t you?” went on
Barker, significantly.
Bob breathed hard. Barker had touched the subject dearest to his heart.
“It’s natural that I should, isn’t it?” was the slow response.
“Well, you will never learn anything by having me locked up.”
“Don’t be too sure about that.”
“I am dead positive, for nobody knows anything about that matter but
me.”
“You are mistaken, Barker.”
“No, I am not.”
“There is a woman knows about it.”
Barker started.
“What, has Sarah Blake dared to tell you----” he began, and stopped
short.
Bob caught the name and remembered it. Little did he dream of the
peculiar circumstances under which he would meet Sarah Blake.
“Never mind, Barker. I am not so much in the dark as you think.”
“Sarah doesn’t know it all,” grumbled Barker. “I am the only one that
has all the facts.”
“And you won’t tell if I have you arrested?”
“That’s the size of it.”
“And if I let you go, what will you tell me?”
“A good deal that will be to your interest.”
Bob looked at the man and smiled grimly.
“I wouldn’t trust you, Barker. I would rather hear what you had to say
after you were behind the bars.”
“I won’t tell you a word, then. You can live and die the poor,
miserable nobody that you now are.”
“We’ll see. Let me tell you something. Even if I could trust you to
tell the whole truth, I wouldn’t let you go. You are a criminal, and
your place is in prison.”
“You’ll never put me there,” cried Barker.
“Yes, I will. Now march along.”
“Where to?”
“Over to that gate.”
Barker moved on as indicated. He wanted to run for it, but Bob kept the
club raised, and he did not dare.
Just as they neared the gate footsteps were heard, and a man appeared
with a lantern.
“Vot’s der madder here?” he demanded, in broken English.
“This man is a robber,” said Bob. “I want him arrested.”
“By chimminy, vos dot so?”
“Yes. Are you the watchman around here?”
“Yah. I dinks me I vos hear somepotty by der yard.”
“Will you call a policeman?”
“Sure, I vill.”
The watchman hurried off, and presently returned with an officer. In a
few words Bob told the policeman that Barker was one of the men who had
robbed John Wright’s house.
The officer at once took the robber in charge, and Bob accompanied both.
The station was some distance from the lumber-yard, and Barker proposed
that they take a horse-car, stating that he had slipped on a log in the
factory yard and sprained his ankle.
To this the policeman consented, and smilingly added that if his ankle
was sprained perhaps he wouldn’t feel much like trying to get away.
“No, confound the luck,” returned the robber.
The car was crowded, and all three were compelled to stand on the back
platform.
They had scarcely gone a block, when the car stopped at rather a dark
spot to take on a couple of passengers. There was squeezing on all
sides, and for a moment Bob lost sight of both Barker and the policeman.
Then when the car started again Bob looked around with a cry of
dismay. The officer and the robber had disappeared.
Bob forced his way inside of the car, thinking that the pair might have
entered to get out of the crush outside.
But a thorough search failed to reveal either of the persons in whom
the youth was interested.
“Gone!” ejaculated Bob, with a sinking heart.
“What’s that?” asked a bystander.
“Nothing. Did you see anything of that policeman and his prisoner?”
“They got off at the last stop.”
“Thank you.”
Bob lost no time in leaving the car and hurrying back to the place. All
was dark, and nobody appeared in sight.
“Hullo there, officer!” he called out.
He repeated the call several times, and finally the policeman came
running toward him, club in hand.
“Where is the man?” asked Bob, breathlessly.
“That’s what I want to know,” returned the officer.
“Did he get off with you?”
“No; he jumped off, and I followed.”
“Well, that’s a fine piece of business!” exclaimed Bob.
“I’m not to blame,” returned the officer, alarmed over the thought that
he had in some way neglected to do his duty.
“Really?” asked Bob, sarcastically. He was angry.
“No. Why didn’t you watch him?”
“It wasn’t my business after I had delivered him to you.”
“Yes, it was.”
“It was not. You’re a fine officer to take charge of a man.”
“Come, don’t talk to me that way,” cried the policeman.
“You didn’t attend to your business.”
“Say another word and I’ll run you in for loafing,” cried the
policeman, catching Bob by the arm.
“Let go of me!”
“Then don’t say it was my fault. I had nothing to do with it. It was
your duty to keep watch of the man until you made a charge against him.”
The policeman thought he could hoodwink Bob by saying this, but the
youth’s common sense told him better.
“It was all your fault,” said Bob, breaking away. “I have your number,
and perhaps I’ll report you. Now, I am going to hunt for the man again.”
And before the officer could stop him, Bob made off, while the
policeman went back to his beat, there to concoct some excuse for his
failure to do his duty.
Bob hurried down the street, looking in all directions for Barker, but
the robber was nowhere to be seen.
At the end of an hour the youth was discouraged, and slowly and
thoughtfully he made his way to his boarding-house.
How much had been missed by the escape of Barker! Not only the chance
of recovering the stolen goods, but also that of interviewing the
robber concerning the shrouded past.
“But I’ll meet him again some day, and then I won’t trust him to any
fool of a policeman,” said Bob to himself.