THE PURSUIT
Fenn darted forward, and would have taken after the man on the run, only
Bart put forth a restraining hand. Fenn looked at his chum in surprise.
"Easy, Stumpy," murmured the tall lad, as he drew his fleshier companion
out of hearing of the crowd in front of the animal store. "Do you want
to give the whole thing away? Several times we've lost trace of this man
because we were in such a rush, and I don't want it to happen again. You
nearly spoiled everything, Stumpy."
"I'm sorry," faltered Fenn, "but I want to get at him, and have him
explain."
"So do we all," went on Bart, "but we can do it better by going slow and
easy. He hasn't seen us, and we can trail him and see where he goes."
"Did you notice what he had in the paper?" asked the fat lad excitedly.
"What was it?" asked Frank, who had not caught Fenn's first exclamation.
"A mud turtle. That's what he got in the store."
"Say, you had better talk lower," cautioned Frank, for Fenn had spoken
loudly. "People in the crowd are beginning to notice us."
"Oh, I guess there's no danger," decided Bart. "There are lots of
strangers in town to-day, and we won't attract much attention. But we
must take after this fellow. We'll trail him carefully now. He's still
on this side of the street, and he's going slowly," Bart announced,
after taking an observation over the heads of the crowd still in front
of the store window. "Fenn and I will take this side of the street, and
you and Ned can take the other side, Frank. If either of us miss our man
we'll meet later at the hotel. Go ahead now, and keep out of his sight.
Go slow, as if you were only looking at the sights, but keep your eye on
the man. We'll try and find where he belongs, who he is, and why he
collects turtles."
Through the crowds that were constantly increasing in size the four lads
threaded their ways, two on one side of the street, and two on the
other. Ahead of them was the mysterious man. He seemed to have no idea
that he was being followed, and appeared only to be looking at the
sights. At times the boys found difficulty in keeping within the proper
distance of him, and once Ned and Frank lost him, but they soon picked
him up again, and kept on. He wore a light-colored cap, which made him
conspicuous in the press of people.
The man seemed to be in no hurry to get anywhere. He strolled leisurely
along, looking in store windows, or pausing to observe the linemen
stringing the wires. The boys were after him, and their experience in
the woods, trailing game, now served them in good stead. Though they
looked carefully, they could not see any package in the man's hand now,
and they wondered what he had done with the turtle.
The pursuit led to the outskirts of the town, and, as the streets became
less congested there was danger of the boys being detected in their
chase, but fortunately for them the man took a notion to swing down
through a side street and retrace his steps, back toward the centre.
Then the pursuit was rendered less likely to be observed.
Reaching the middle of the town the man paused to look at a lineman who
was on top of a particularly tall pole, making some final adjustments to
the wires and lamps. As the boys halted, not to come too close to their
quarry, they saw the lineman signal to have the current turned on. The
lamps glowed, but something seemed to be wrong, for he called for the
power to be turned off while he adjusted a switch. There seemed to be
some delay over cutting off the current, and the lineman waited.
The crowd was thicker near the pole, and, not wishing to let the
mysterious man escape, Bart and Fenn, who were on the same side of the
street as he was, drew nearer to him in the throng. Frank and Ned were
on the other side of the street. The former chums could observe the
object of their pursuit more closely now. He did not seem to be a
hardened character, but on the contrary, his face was refined, and his
manner seemed gentle, though there was a curious, cunning air about him.
While the lineman on the tall pole was waiting for some of his fellow
workmen to change the switch, he looked down into the press of people.
He seemed to recognize some one, and waved his hand. To the surprise of
Bart and Fenn the mysterious man waved back to the man on the pole.
"Did you see that?" exclaimed Fenn, and in his excitement he had spoken
aloud. The next instant he regretted it, for the man, turning, saw him.
He gave a start of surprise, and then a look of fear seemed to come over
his face. He gave one glance up at the lineman on his tall perch, waved
what seemed to be a farewell, and darted away through the crowd.
"After him, Stumpy!" whispered Bart, excitedly. "He'll get away, I'm
afraid!"
The lads started to make their way out of the throng of people who were
all about them. The mysterious man, too, was at this same disadvantage.
Suddenly, amid the stillness that seemed to settle over the crowd, as
they watched the lineman reach far over to make a distant connection,
there sounded a cry of fear and pain. High up in the air there was a
flash of bluish fire, a sizzling, as of red-hot iron plunged into water,
and then a shower of sparks.
"The lineman! The lineman!" screamed several. "He's on a live wire!"
Pausing in their efforts to get out of the crowd, and take up the
pursuit, Bart and Fenn saw the lineman leaning over in a dangerous
position. He was in a net-work of wires, and all about him seemed to be
long, forked tongues of blue flame, while vicious sparks shot from one
wire to the other. The unfortunate man had caught hold of the outer end
of a cross-arm on the pole, and, while his feet were on one lower down,
he was thus held in this strained position. Around his waist was a
leather belt, passed about the pole, and this also retained him in
position.
His cry of alarm had brought several other linemen to the foot of the
pole.
"Are you shocked, George?" called one, anxiously.
"No," came the faint reply, "not yet, but something has gone wrong. One
of the wires has broken, and has charged all the others. I'm safe as
long as I lean over this way, but I can't get back, and I can't get
down."
"Unhook your belt and slide down," suggested one.
"I can't. If I let go with my hands I'll come up against the wires
carrying the main current, and, if I do----" he did not finish, but they
all knew what he meant.
The crowd was horror-struck. The man was in the midst of death. He could
not move to come down, for fear of coming in contact with wires, which,
though previously harmless, were now dangerous because the broken
conductor, carrying a heavy charge, had fallen over them, making them
deadly.
"Hold on, and I'll come up to you!" shouted a lineman, preparing to
ascend the pole.
"No, don't," cried the unfortunate man.
"Have the current cut off at the power house!" yelled a voice in the
crowd below.
"Yes! That's the thing to do!" echoed a score of others.
A man ran out of the crowd to the telephone--the same telephone over
which word had been sent to the power station to turn the power on for
the preliminary test. In a few seconds central had given the frantic man
the main electrical station.
"Cut off the power--cut off the power!" he cried. "One of the linemen on
the pole is in danger of being shocked to death."
Anxiously he waited for the reply. None came.
"Ring again, central!" he called frantically. Over the wire he heard the
distant ringing of the bell in the power station. The delay seemed like
an hour, though it was only a few seconds.
"Why don't they answer? Why don't they answer?" cried the man
desperately. "Ring 'em again, central. Ring hard!"
"I am ringing hard," responded central. "There doesn't seem to be any
one there."
"There must be!" insisted the man. "It's a matter of life and death! The
current must be shut off!"
He waited, moving about nervously, while holding the receiver to his
ear. Those near him could not imagine what was the trouble. Then came a
click in the receiver that showed that some one was at the other end of
the wire.
"Hello! Hello!" cried the man who was trying to have the power cut off.
"Why didn't you answer before. Why don't you shut off the current?
There's a man being killed--what's that?"
He fairly yelled the last words, and those near him saw a look of horror
spread over his face.
"What's that?" he shouted. "The electrician has stepped out you say?
What? He thought the power was to be left on? Oh! He'll be back in five
minutes? But that will be too late. Can't you--hold on there--don't
go away--what's that--yes, I hear you but--don't go away--do
something--pull out the switch--do something--never mind the
electrician--you do it--don't go away--don't go away--Ah--it's too
late!"
He turned to those standing near him at the telephone.
"The only electrician now at the power station stepped out after turning
on the current," the man explained dully, as he hung up the receiver.
"There was some mistake. He thought the wiring was finished, and that
the power was to remain turned on. So he went out, and he left a green
man in charge, who doesn't know anything about the engines, or dynamos.
This man said he'd run out and get the electrician. I tried to
stop him--tried to make him understand that he, himself, must do
something--must shut off the current--but I couldn't get it through his
head. He dropped the telephone, and ran out after the electrician. Now
there's no way of shutting off the power until the engineer gets back,
and, by that time----" He paused significantly, and rushed out. Nothing
more could be done at the telephone. It was as if the wire was broken.
Up on his high perch the lineman was becoming weaker from the strain,
and the fear of death. He looked down at the crowd below. Bart and Fenn
gazed upward. How they wished they could help!
"Is that man--that mysterious man gone?" asked Bart, in low tones.
"Yes," replied Fenn, "he's hurrying down the street. We'd better take
after him, if we want to catch him. He's getting to be very suspicious
of us. We ought to catch him."
"I know it. If we could only signal Ned or Frank we might run some
chance----"
At that moment another lineman, standing near Bart, turned to him, and
asked excitedly, as he saw the rifle in the lad's hand:
"Are you a good shot? A man's life may depend on it! Can you shoot
straight?"
"Pretty straight," answered Bart, wondering what was coming next. The
lineman was excited, he approached nearer to Bart, and motioned to his
friend high up on the pole--the man from whom death seemed but a short
distance away.
"Is your rifle loaded? Then, if it is, for mercy sakes fire and see if
you can sever that main feed wire," and the lineman pointed to a thick
conductor, which was shooting out blue sparks, and which had charged all
the other wires with the deadly current. "See if you can cut that wire,"
went on the lineman eagerly. "It's the only chance to save his life!"
Bart hesitated. He turned to see the man whom they had pursued, making
his escape. If he got away it might mean that they would never see him
again--never have the theft of the diamond bracelet solved. It was a
choice between the honor of the Darewell Chums and the life of a man.
Which would Bart choose?
There could be but one answer to this question.