BOB’S QUEER EXPERIENCE
“Now, I imagine we have you safe,” said Casco, after the door was
locked. “Sit down on that bench.”
“Well, if you insist, I will,” returned the youth, trying to make the
best of the situation.
He was terribly chagrined at the turn affairs had taken, but he
resolved to brave it out as best he could.
“Now tell us how you came to follow us here,” said Barker.
“I discovered Casco was stopping here.”
“How did you discover that?”
“He robbed a friend of mine.”
“Humph! he must mean the jay who was drugged,” muttered Casco. “I
didn’t know he was a friend of yours.”
While Casco was talking, Barker opened a closet and brought forth a
rope.
With this Bob was bound hands and feet.
“Now, if you make the least outcry, we will gag you,” he said.
“What do you intend to do with me this time?” questioned the youth.
“One thing is certain, you won’t escape us,” returned Barker, with an
evil smile.
“Betther see if he has any money wid him,” suggested Grogan.
Bob was at once searched, and the three dollars in his pocket taken
from him.
“Every little counts,” said the Irishman. “Blake, suppose ye go down
an’ git a bottle fer all hands.”
Old Blake at once left the lodge-room.
In less than two minutes he returned all out of breath.
“Get the boy out of sight,” he cried.
“What’s up?” asked the others, in concert.
“Cabot says the police are watching the place. He just saw an officer
walk past with that fellow who was drugged.”
“The old Nick you say!” muttered Casco. “I thought he had been fixed
for all night. Catch hold, Barker.”
“Where to?”
“The garret, quick!”
Barker caught hold of Bob on one side, and Casco on the other, and
between them they carried the youth up two flights of narrow stairs,
and into a sloping room under the roof.
Grogan followed with a lamp which was placed on the floor.
“Let me see!” said Casco, looking around. “Ah! here is a cross-beam!
Let us lash him to that!”
This was quickly done in such a manner that Bob could move but little.
“We must make it impossible for him to escape,” said Barker.
In spite of his stout heart, Bob was compelled to shiver at being tied
up.
“We had better gag him,” went on Barker.
“Of course. Here is a bit of rag will do for that purpose.”
A strip of an old dress was brought forth, and after tying a large
knot in the middle the strip was placed over Bob’s mouth with the knot
inside and made fast.
“That settles him for the present,” said the scar-faced man. “Now we
had better put out the light.”
“Yis, douse the glim be all manes,” said Grogan. “Thin Oi’ll look out
the front winder, an’ see if thim men is still hangin’ around.”
The light was extinguished, and the Irishman opened the small window
in the front end of the garret. The fresh air that came in was very
welcome to Bob, who could hardly breathe.
“Oi can’t see anybody,” said Grogan, after a long look down into the
street. “Perhaps Cabot was mistaken.”
“I’ll go down and see,” replied Barker. “If anybody comes up here and
tries to nose around bluff him off.”
“We will,” said Casco. “But keep watch, and give us plenty of warning.”
This was agreed to, and Barker left the garret immediately.
The others grew silent, Casco standing by the stairs with ears on the
alert.
Five minutes passed. They dragged slowly to Bob, who was wondering what
would happen next, and if he would ever get out of his predicament with
a whole skin.
Suddenly two pistol-shots rang out. They were followed by a whistle
outside, and then another on the second floor below. The raid by the
police had begun.
As it was dark in the garret, Bob could not make out the movements of
his captors.
He heard Casco say something to Grogan, and then the two went off,
leaving old Blake in sole charge. The latter remained near the stairs,
listening intently for the first sign of any one trying to come up.
Presently there was another cry, and then Blake hurried to Bob’s side.
“Listen to me,” he said. “Don’t you dare to make a move or a sound till
I come back. If you do, I’ll fix you.”
Then Bob heard him descend the stairs, and heard the opening and
closing of the door.
Bob at once set to work freeing himself. He did not care for the threat
which had been made. Probably Blake had become frightened, and would
not return at all.
Close to where Bob was bound was a large blue chest, with iron-bound
corners. When he had been brought to the spot the youth had noticed
that one of the iron corners was broken, leaving a sharp edge sticking
from the top.
Bob could just reach the chest with his feet, and, by rubbing the rope
around his ankles over the rough edge of the iron, he managed after
considerable trouble to wear the rope in two, thus freeing his feet.
But his hands were still tied behind him and to a small bit of joist
between two upright beams.
Planting his feet firmly on the floor Bob tugged at the joist with all
his strength, and was at last overjoyed to find he had loosened one end.
To loosen the other was a comparatively easy job, and then Bob stood a
free boy, but with his hands still fastened to the bit of wood. Bending
over the chest, he again began his rubbing process, and soon the wood
fell to the floor, and Bob’s hands were once again ready for use.
He lost no time in tearing the dirty gag from his mouth. While he was
doing this, he heard the door at the foot of the stairs unlocked, and
Grogan came up.
Bob knew the Irishman’s tread too well to be mistaken. He turned to
flee, then, not knowing where to go, he stopped short and faced his
enemy.
Grogan carried a lantern on one arm. He cast the rays over to where Bob
had been tied, and uttered an exclamation of dismay.
Then he caught sight of Bob. At the same time the youth snatched up the
piece of joist.
“Make a sound, Grogan, and I will strike!” cried Bob, determinedly.
“How did you git loose?” demanded the Irishman.
“That is my affair. Stand where you are.”
Instead of complying, Grogan made a dash forward. As he did so, Bob
struck out at him.
The joist struck the lantern, shivering it to pieces and leaving the
pair in darkness.
Bob struck out again, and this time Grogan was knocked over.
Finding his enemy did not offer to move, Bob spoke to him. Grogan made
no reply. Growing alarmed, Bob struck a match and lit the wick of the
lantern which lay close at hand.
“Knocked out that trip,” muttered Bob to himself. “Well, it serves him
right. I reckon I had better go below.”
He was about to carry out this idea, when he heard the door at the foot
of the stairs open.
“Hurry up, Barker,” he heard, in the voice of Casco, and then the steps
came closer.
What was to be done? It would be fool-hardy to face the two men, both
of whom he felt sure were armed. He must escape by some other means.
The window in the front end of the garret was still open, and toward
this Bob rushed and looked out. The sidewalk was fully forty feet
below, and there was no way to reach it save by a jump, and this would
have meant instant death.
Bob looked up. Overhead, the roof of the building was but a few feet
away. He sprang upon the window-sill, and without hesitation pulled
himself out and upon the sloping roof beyond.
It was a dangerous situation, but Bob’s nerves were up to a high
tension, and he did not falter.
The electric lights on the street beyond threw considerable light on
the roof, and by this means the youth was enabled to crawl down to the
gutter. Then he walked along to the rear, and finding here a projection
one story lower, dropped upon it.
All had become quiet in the saloon and restaurant below, and Bob
wondered what the police had done, and if they had really gone.
The youth looked around for some means of reaching the ground. There
was the water spout, but that seemed too frail to bear his weight.
Leaning over the edge of the roof, he saw not far below a pulley-line
used for drying clothes. The other end of the line was fastened to a
house on the opposite side of the yard, and, by pulling upon the line,
Bob found it moved through the pulley easily.
Taking his pocket-knife the youth quickly severed one of the lines and
hauled in on the other. The consequence was that he soon found himself
in possession of about a hundred feet of good strong wash-line.
Twisting the line double, Bob fastened one end to a chimney, and,
grasping the other, he started to lower himself down over the edge of
the roof.
Bob came down the last ten feet with a great rush, thereby tearing some
of the skin from his hands.
But he shut his teeth hard, and though the pain was great, he made no
sound.
Darting across the yard, he entered the back door of the house on the
next street. The door led to a dark and narrow hall-way. Once inside,
Bob closed the door, and finding a bolt on it, quickly slipped the
fastening into place.
By feeling around the youth found that there was no way out of the
hall-way, except by going up the stairs or down into the cellar.
He followed the former course, and soon found himself on an upper
landing, where a broad staircase led to a large and well-lighted front
hall.
He lost no time in descending the stair, doing so almost silently, as
the steps were heavily carpeted.
But below the hall-way was of polished wood, and his footsteps rang out
clearly as he passed to the door.
This was locked and bolted, and the youth had considerable difficulty
in opening it.
“Hullo, young man, what are you doing here?” suddenly demanded a sharp
voice, and a side door opened from a store, and a heavy-set man rushed
out.
“I was trying to escape from the house on the next street,” explained
Bob. “Some men weren’t treating me right.”
“That’s fine enough to say, but I don’t believe you. Just you wait
until I call an officer.”
Bob was so taken aback that for the moment he did not know what to say.
“An officer!” he gasped.
“That’s what I said. We have suffered from your kind several times, and
now I intend to put a stop to it.”
The man spoke very decidedly, and, as he faced Bob, he looked fiercely
at the youth.
“I am not a thief. You can search me, if you wish.”
“Perhaps you didn’t have the chance to get anything,” sneered the
heavy-set man. “But you are in the hall of my house, and that’s enough.”
The man saw to it that the front door was locked, and placed the key in
his pocket.
Then he walked to the side door.
“Jimmy,” he called loudly.
“What’s up, pop?” came in a boyish voice.
“Go and get a policeman. I’ve caught one of those confounded
sneak-thieves at last.”
“Is that so, pop! Good for you!”
A freckle-faced boy with red hair came out into the hall, and looked
wonderingly at Bob.
“So you’re a sneak-thief, hey?” he said.
“No, I am not,” replied Bob.
“Don’t stand there all night, Jimmy; but do as I told you,” cried the
parent.
Jimmy at once disappeared. The heavy-set man stood close to Bob,
wearing upon his face a look of great importance.
“You are making a great mistake, sir,” said Bob. “I just came from
Cabot’s place, and all I did was to attempt to pass through your
hall-way.”
“And pick up anything you could find on the way, I suppose,” was the
cold reply.
“No, sir.”
“Well, I won’t waste words with you. The police will give your case
all the attention it deserves.”
Bob heaved a sigh. If arrested, how could he prove his innocence? The
fact that he had been in Cabot’s at the time of the raid would not
stand to his credit. Perhaps his story of being a prisoner would not be
believed, especially if Casco, Barker, and the others escaped.
Bob meditated a dash for liberty, but before he could put it into
execution the boy came back with a policeman.
“Caught one of ’em, have you, Mr. Olney?” said the officer, as he took
Bob in charge.
“I have.”
In vain Bob tried to explain matters. The policeman would not listen,
and the youth was hurried off to the station-house and thrust into a
cell, to await a hearing in the morning.
He wondered what had been done at Cabot’s place, and if any of his
enemies had been captured.
“If not, this will give them a good chance to clear out,” he said to
himself, bitterly.