THE DEATH CLOUD
Off a lonely wharf in a deserted part of the coast some miles from the
promontory which afforded Del Mar his secret submarine harbor, a ship
was riding at anchor.
On the wharf a group of men, husky lascars, were straining their eyes
at the mysterious craft.
"Here she comes," muttered one of the men, "at last."
From the ship a large yawl had put out. As she approached the wharf it
could be seen that she was loaded to the gunwales with cases and boxes.
She drew up close to the wharf and the men fell to unloading her,
lifting up the boxes as though they were weighted with feathers instead
of metal and explosives.
Down the shore, at the same time, behind a huge rock, crouched a rough
looking tramp. His interest in the yawl and its cargo was even keener
than that of the lascars.
"Supplies," he muttered, moving back cautiously and up the bluff. "I
wonder where they are taking them?"
Marcus Del Mar had chosen an old and ruined hotel not far from the
shore as his storehouse and arsenal. Already he was there, pacing up
and down the rotted veranda which shook under his weight.
"Come, hurry up," he called impatiently as the first of the men
carrying a huge box on his back made his appearance up the hill.
One after another they trooped in and Del Mar led them to the hotel,
unlocking the door.
Inside, the old hostelry was quite as ramshackle as outside. What had
once been the dining-room now held nothing but a long, rickety table
and several chairs.
"Put them there," ordered Del Mar, directing the disposal of the cases.
"Then you can begin work. I shall be back soon."
He went out and as he did so, two men seized guns from a corner near-by
and followed him. On the veranda he paused and turned to the men.
"If any one approaches the house--any one, you understand--make him a
prisoner and send for me," he ordered. "If he resists, shoot."
"Yes, sir," they replied, moving over and stationing themselves one at
each angle of the narrow paths that ran before the old house.
Del Mar turned and plunged deliberately into the bushes, as if for a
cross country walk, unobserved.
Meanwhile, by another path up the bluff, the tramp had made his way
parallel to the line taken by the men. He paused at the top of the
bluff where some bushes overhung and parted them.
"Their headquarters," he remarked to himself, under his breath.
Elaine, Aunt Josephine and I were on the lawn that forenoon when
a groom in resplendent livery came up to us.
"Miss Elaine Dodge?" he bowed.
Elaine took the note he offered and he departed with another bow.
"Oh, isn't that delightful," she cried with pleasure, handing the note
to me.
I read it: "The Wilkeshire Country Club will be honored if Miss Dodge
and her friends will join the paper chase this afternoon. L.H. Brown,
Secretary."
"I suppose a preparation for the fox or drag hunting season?" I queried.
"Yes," she replied. "Will you go?"
"I don't ride very well," I answered, "but I'll go."
"Oh, and here's Mr. Del Mar," she added, turning. "You'll join us at
the Wilkeshire hunt in a paper chase this afternoon, surely, Mr. Del
Mar?"
"Charmed, I'm sure," he agreed gracefully.
For several minutes we chatted, planning, then he withdrew. "I shall
meet you on the way to the Club," he promised.
It was not long before Elaine was ready, and from the stable a groom
led three of the best trained cross-country horses in the neighborhood,
for old Taylor Dodge, Elaine's father, had been passionately fond of
hunting, as had been both Elaine and Aunt Josephine.
We met on the porch and a few minutes later mounted and cantered away.
On the road Del Mar joined us and we galloped along to the Hunt Club,
careful, however, to save the horses as much as possible for the dash
over the fields.
. . . . . . .
For some time the uncouth tramp continued gazing fixedly out of the
bushes at the deserted hotel.
Suddenly, he heard a noise and dropped flat on the ground, looking
keenly about. Through the trees he could see one of Del Mar's men
stationed on sentry duty. He was leaning against a tree, on the alert.
The tramp rose cautiously and moved off in another direction to that in
which he had been making his way, endeavoring to flank the sentry.
Further along, however, another of Del Mar's men was standing in the
same attentive manner near a path that led from the woods.
As the tramp approached, the sentry heard a crackle of the brush and
stepped forward. Before the tramp knew it, he was covered by a rifle
from the sentry in an unexpected quarter.
Any one but the sentry, with half an eye, might have seen that the fear
he showed was cleverly feigned. He threw his hands above his head even
before he was ordered and in general was the most tractable captive
imaginable. The sentry blew a whistle, whereat the other sentry ran in.
"What shall we do with him," asked the captor.
"Master's orders to take any one to the rendezvous," responded the
other firmly, "and lock him up."
Together they forced the tramp to march double quick toward the old
hotel. One sentry dropped back at the door and the other drove the
tramp before him into the hotel, avoiding the big room on the side
where the men were at work and forcing him up-stairs to the attic which
had once been the servant's quarters.
There was no window in the room and it was empty. The only light came
in through a skylight in the roof.
The sentry thrust the tramp into this room and tried a door leading to
the next room. It was locked. At the point of his gun the sentry
frisked the tramp for weapons, but found none. As he did so the tramp
trembled mightily. But no sooner had the sentry gone than the tramp
smiled quietly to himself. He tried both doors. They were locked. Then
he looked at the skylight and meditated.
Down below, although he did not know it, in the bare dining-room which
had been arranged into a sort of chemical laboratory, Del Mar's men
were engaged in manufacturing gas bombs much like those used in the war
in Europe. Before them was a formidable array of bottles and retorts.
The containers for the bombs were large and very brittle globes of hard
rubber. As the men made the gas and forced it under tremendous pressure
into tubes, they protected themselves by wearing goggles for the eyes
and large masks of cloth and saturated cotton over their mouths and
noses.
Satisfied with the safety of his captive, the sentry made his way
down-stairs and out again to report to Del Mar.
At the bungalow, Del Mar's valet was setting the library in order when
he heard a signal in the secret passage. He pressed the button on the
desk and opened the panel. From it the sentry entered.
"Where is Mr. Del Mar?" he asked hurriedly, looking around. "We've been
followed to the headquarters by a tramp whom I've captured, and I don't
know what to do with him."
"He is not here," answered the valet. "He has gone to the Country Club."
"Confound it," returned the sentry, vexed at the enforced waste of
time. "Do you think you can reach him?"
"If I hurry, I may," nodded the valet.
"Then do so," directed the sentry.
He moved back into the panel and disappeared while the valet closed it.
A moment later he, too, picked up his hat and hurried out.
At the Wilkeshire Club a large number of hunters had arrived for the
imitation meet. Elaine, Aunt Josephine, Del Mar and myself rode up and
were greeted by them as the Master of Fox Hounds assembled us. Off a
bit, a splendid pack of hounds was held by the huntsman while they
debated whether to hold a paper chase or to try a drag hunt.
"You start your cross-country riding early," commented Del Mar.
"Yes," answered Elaine. "You see we can hardly wait until autumn and
the weather is so fine and cool, we feel that we ought to get into trim
during the summer. So we have paper chases and drag hunts as soon as we
can, mainly to please the younger set."
The chase was just about to start, when the valet came up. Del Mar
caught his eye and excused himself to us. What he said, we could not
hear, but Del Mar frowned, nodded and dismissed him.
Just then the horn sounded and we went off, dashing across the road
into a field in full chase after the hounds, taking the fences and
settling down to a good half hour's run over the most beautiful country
I have ever seen.
The hounds had struck the trail, which of course, as was finally
decided, was nothing but that laid by an anise-seed bag dragged over
the ground. It was none the less, in fact perhaps more interesting for
that.
The huntsman winded his horn and mirthful shouts of "Gone away!"
sounded in imitation of a real hunt. The blast of the horn once heard
is never forgotten, thrilling the blood and urging one on.
The M. F. H. seemed to be everywhere at once, restraining those who
were too eager and saving the hounds often from being ridden down by
those new to the hunt who pressed them.
Elaine was one of the foremost. Her hunter was one carefully trained,
and she knew all the tricks of the game.
Somehow, I got separated, at first, from the rest and followed, until
finally I caught up, and then kept behind one of the best riders.
Del Mar also got separated, but, as I afterward learned, by intention,
for he deliberately rode out of the course at the first opportunity he
had and let Elaine and the rest of us pass without seeing him.
Elaine's blood was up, but somehow, in spite of herself, she went
astray, for the hounds had distanced the fleetest riders and she, in an
attempt at a short cut over the country which she thought she knew so
well, went a mile or so out of the way.
She pulled up in a ravine and looked about. Intently she listened.
There was no sign of the hunt. She was hot and tired and thirsty and,
at a loss just to join the field again, she took this chance to
dismount and drink from a clear stream fed by mountain springs.
As she did so, floating over the peaceful woodland air came the faint
strains of the huntsman's horn, far, far off. She looked about,
straining her eyes and ears to catch the direction of sound. Just then
her horse caught the winding of the horn. His ears went erect and
without waiting he instantly galloped off, leaving her. Elaine called
and ran after him, but it was too late. She stopped and looked
dejectedly as he disappeared. Then she made her way up the side of the
ravine, slowly.
On she climbed until, to her surprise, she came to the ruins of an old
hotel. She remembered, as a child, when it had been famous as a health
resort, but it was all changed now--a wreck. She looked at it a moment,
then, as she had nothing better to do, approached it.
She advanced toward a window of the dining-room and looked in.
. . . . . . .
Del Mar waited only until the last straggler had passed. Then he dashed
off as fast as his horse would carry him straight toward the deserted
hotel which served him as headquarters for the supplies he was
accumulating. As he rode up, one of his sentries appeared, as if from
nowhere, and, seeing who it was, saluted.
"Here, take care of this horse," ordered Del Mar, dismounting and
turning the animal over to the man, who led him to the rear of the
building as Del Mar entered the front door, after giving a secret
signal.
There were his men in goggles and masks at the work, which his knock
had interrupted.
"Give me a mask before I enter the room," he ordered of the man who had
answered his signal.
The man handed the mask and goggles to him, as well as a coat, which he
put on quickly. Then he entered the room and looked at the rapid
progress of the work.
"Where's the prisoner?" asked Del Mar a moment later, satisfied at the
progress of his men.
"In the attic room," one of his lieutenants indicated.
"I'd like to take a look at him," added Del Mar, just about to turn and
leave the room.
As he did so, he happened to glance at one of the windows. There,
peering through the broken shutters, was a face--a girl's face--Elaine!
"Just what I wanted guarded against," he cried angrily, pointing at the
window. "Now--get her!"
The men had sprung up at his alarm. They could all see her and with one
accord dashed for the door. Elaine sprang back and they ran as they saw
that she was warned. In genuine fear now she too ran from the window.
But it was too late.
For just then the sentry who had taken Del Mar's horse came from behind
the building cutting off her retreat. He seized her just as the other
men ran out. Elaine stared. She could make nothing of them. Even Del
Mar, in his goggles and breathing mask was unrecognizable.
"Take her inside," he ordered disguising his voice. Then to the sentry
he added, "Get on guard again and don't let any one through."
Elaine was hustled into the big deserted hallway of the hotel, just as
the tramp had been.
"You may go back to work," Del Mar signed to the other men, who went
on, leaving one short but athletic looking fellow with Del Mar and
Elaine.
"Lock her up, Shorty," ordered Del Mar, "and bring the other prisoner
to me down here."
None too gently the man forced Elaine up-stairs ahead of him.
. . . . . . .
In the attic, the tramp, pacing up and down, heard footsteps approach
on the stairs and enter the next room.
Quickly he ran to the doorway and peered through the keyhole. There he
could see Elaine and the small man enter. He locked the door to the
hall, then quickly took a step toward the door into the tramp's room.
There was just time enough for the tramp to see his approach. He ran
swiftly and softly over to the further corner and dropped down as if
sound asleep. The key turned in the lock and the small man entered,
careful to lock the door to Elaine's room. He moved over to where the
tramp was feigning sleep.
"Get up," he growled, kicking him.
The tramp sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Come now, be
reasonable," demanded the man. "Follow me."
He started toward the door into the hall. He never reached it. Scarcely
was his hand on the knob when the tramp seized him and dragged him to
the floor. One hand on the man's throat and his knees on his chest, the
tramp tore off the breathing mask and goggles. Already he had the man
trussed up and gagged.
Quickly the tramp undressed the man and left him in his underclothes,
still struggling to get loose, as he took Shorty's clothes, including
the strange head-gear, and unlocked the door into the next room with
the key he also took from him.
Elaine was pacing anxiously up and down the little room into which she
had been thrown, greatly frightened.
Suddenly the door through which her captor had left opened hurriedly
again. A most disreputable looking tramp entered and locked the door
again. Elaine started back in fear.
He motioned to her to be quiet. "You'll never get out alive," he
whispered, speaking rapidly and thickly, as though to disguise his
voice. "Here--take these clothes. Do just as I say. Put them on. Put on
the mask and goggles. Cover up your hair. It is your only chance."
He laid the clothes down and went out into the hallway. Outside he
listened carefully at the head of the stairs and looked about expecting
momentarily to be discovered.
Elaine understood only that suddenly a friend in need had appeared. She
changed her clothes quickly, finding fortunately that they fitted her
pretty well. By pulling the hat over her hair and the goggles over her
eyes and tying on the breathing mask, she made a very presentable man.
Cautiously she pushed open the door into the hallway. There was the
tramp. "What shall I do?" she asked.
"Don't talk," he whispered close to her ear. "Go out--and if you meet
any one, just salute and walk past."
"Yes--yes, I understand," she nodded back, "and--thank you."
He gave her no time to say more, even if it had been safe, but turned
and locked the door of her room.
Trying to keep the old stairway from creaking and betraying her, she
went down. She managed to reach the lower hallway without seeing
anybody or being discovered. Quietly she went to the door and out. She
had not gone far when she met an armed man, the sentry, who had been
concealed in the shrubbery.
"Who goes there?" he challenged.
Elaine did not betray herself by speaking, but merely saluted and
passed on as fast as she could without exciting further suspicion.
Nonplused, the man turned and watched her curiously as she moved away
down the path.
"Where's HE going?" the sentry muttered, still staring.
Elaine in her eagerness was not looking as carefully where she was
going as she was thinking about getting away in safety. Suddenly an
overhanging branch of a tree caught her hat and before she knew it
pulled it off her head. There was no concealing her golden hair now.
"Stop!" shouted the sentry.
Elaine did not pause, but dived into the bushes on the side of the
path, just as the man fired and ran forward, still shouting for her to
halt. She ran as fast as she could, pulling off the goggles and mask
and looking back now and then in terror at her pursuer who was rapidly
gaining on her.
Before she could catch herself she missed her footing and slipped over
the edge of a gorge. Down she went, with a rush. It was unfortunate,
dangerous, but, after all, it was the only thing that saved her, at
least for the time. Half falling, half sliding, scratching herself and
tearing her clothes, she descended.
The sentry checked himself just in time at the top of the gorge and
leaned as far over the edge as he dared. He raised his gun again and
fired. But Elaine's course was so hidden by the trees and so zigzag
that he missed again. A moment he hesitated, then started and climbed
down after her as fast as he could.
At the bottom of the hill she picked herself up and dashed again into
the woods, the sentry still after her and gaining again.
At the same time, we who were still in the chase had circled about the
country until we were very near where we started. Following the dogs
over a rail fence, I drew up suddenly, hearing a scream.
There was Elaine, on foot, running as if her life depended on it. I
needed no second glance. Behind her was a man with a rifle, almost
overtaking her.
As luck would have it, the momentum of my horse carried me right at
them. Careful to avoid Elaine, I rode square at the man, striking at
him viciously with my riding crop before he knew what had struck him.
The fellow dropped, stunned. I leaped from my horse and ran to her,
just as the rest of the hunt came up.
Eagerly questioning us, they gathered about.
Having waited until he was sure that Elaine had got away safely, the
old tramp slowly and carefully followed down the stairs of the ruined
hotel.
As he went down, he heard a shot from the woods. Could it be one of the
sentries? He looked about keenly, hesitating just what to do.
In an instant, down below, he heard the scurry of footsteps from the
improvised laboratory and shouts. He turned and stealthily ran
up-stairs, just as the door opened.
The tramp had not been the only one who had been alarmed by the shot of
the sentry.
Del Mar was talking again to the men when it rang out. "What's that?"
he exclaimed. "Another intruder?"
The men stared at him blankly, while Del Mar dashed for the door,
followed by them all. In the hall he issued his orders quickly.
"Here, you fellows," he called dividing the men, "get outside and see
what is doing. You other men follow me. I want you to see if
everything's all right up above."
Meanwhile the tramp had gained the upper hallway and dashed past the
room which he occupied. Outside, in the hall, Del Mar and his men
rushed up to the door of the room in which Elaine had been thrown. It
was locked and they broke in. She was gone!
On into the next room they dashed, bearing down this door also. There
was Shorty, trussed up in his underclothes. They hastened to release
him.
"Where are they--where's the tramp?" demanded Del Mar angrily.
"I think I heard some one on the roof," replied Shorty weakly. He was
right. The tramp had managed to get through a scuttle on the roof. Then
he climbed down to the edge and began to let himself hand over hand
down the lightning rod.
Reaching the ground safely, he scurried about to the back of the
building. There, tied, was the horse which Del Mar had ridden to the
hunt. He untied it, mounted and dashed off down the path through the
woods, taking the shortest cut in the direction of Fort Dale.
Dusty and flecked with foam, the tramp and his mount, a strange
combination, were instantly challenged by the sentry at the Fort.
"I must see Lieutenant Woodward immediately," urged the tramp.
A heated argument followed until finally a corporal of the guards was
called and led off the tramp toward the headquarters.
It was only a few minutes before Woodward was convinced of the identity
of the tramp with his friend, Professor Arnold. At the head of a squad
of cavalry, Woodward and the tramp dashed off.
Already on the qui vive, Elaine heard the sound of hoof-beats long
before the rest of us crowded around her. For the moment we all stood
ready to repel an attack from any quarter.
But it was not meant for us. It was Woodward at the head of a score or
so of cavalrymen. With him rode a tramp on a horse which was strangely
familiar to me.
"Oh," cried Elaine, "there's the man who saved me!"
As they passed, the tramp paused a moment and looked at us sharply.
Although he carefully avoided Elaine's eyes, I fancied that only when
he saw that she was safe was he satisfied to gallop off and rejoin the
cavalry.
. . . . . . .
Around the old hotel, in every direction, Del Mar's men were searching
for the tramp and Elaine, while in the hotel another search was in
progress.
"Have you discovered anything?" asked Del Mar, entering.
"No, sir," they reported.
"Confound it!" swore Del Mar, going up-stairs again.
Here also were men searching. "Find anything?" he asked briefly.
"No luck," returned one.
Del Mar went on up to the top floor and out through the open scuttle to
the roof. "That's how he got away, all right," he muttered to himself,
then looking up he exclaimed under his breath, as his eye caught
something far off, "The deuce--what's that?"
Leaning down to the scuttle, he called, "Jenkins--my
field-glasses--quick!"
One of his men handed them to him and he adjusted them, gazing off
intently. There he could see what looked like a squad of cavalry
galloping along headed by an officer and a rough looking individual.
"Come--we must get ready for an attack!" he shouted diving down the
scuttle again.
In the laboratory dining-room, his men, recalled, hastily took his
orders. Each of them seized one of the huge black rubber newly
completed gas bombs and ran out, making for a grove near-by.
Quickly as Del Mar had acted, it was not done so fast but that the
troop of cavalry as they pulled up on the top of a hill and followed
the directing finger of the tramp could see men running to the cover of
the grove.
"Forward!" shouted Woodward.
As if all were one machine, the men and horses shot ahead, until they
came to the grove about the old hotel. There they dismounted and spread
out in a semi-circular order, advancing on the grove. As they did so,
shots rang out from behind the trees. Del Mar's men, from the shelter
were firing at them. But it seemed hopeless for the fugitives.
"Ready!" ordered Del Mar as the cavalrymen advanced, relentless.
Each of his men picked up one of the big black gas bombs and held it
high up over his head.
"Come on!" urged Woodward.
His men broke into a charge on the grove.
"Throw them!" ordered Del Mar.
As far as he could hurl it, each of the men sent one of the black
globes hurtling through the air. They fell almost simultaneously, a
long line of them, each breaking into a thousand bits. Instantly dense,
greenish-yellow fumes seemed to pour forth, enveloping everything. The
wind which Del Mar had carefully noted when he chose the position in
the grove, was blowing from his men toward the only position from which
an attack could be made successfully.
Against Woodward's men as they charged, it seemed as if a tremendous,
slow-moving wall of vapor were advancing from the trees. It was only a
moment before it completely wrapped them in its stifling, choking,
suffocating embrace. Some fell, overcome. Others tried to run,
clutching frantically at their throats and rubbing their eyes.
"Get back--quick--till it rolls over," choked Woodward.
Those who were able to do so, picked up their stupefied comrades and
retreated, as best they could, stumbling blindly back from the fearful
death cloud of chlorine.
Meantime, under cover of this weird defence, Del Mar and his men, their
own faces covered and unrecognizable in their breathing masks and
goggles, dashed to one side, with a shout and disappeared walking and
running behind and even through the safety of their impregnable gas
barrier.
More slowly we of the hunt had followed Woodward's cavalry until, some
distance off, we stood, witnessing and wondering at the attack. To our
utter amazement we saw them carrying off their wounded and stupefied
men. We hurried forward and gathered about, offering whatever
assistance we could to resuscitate them.
As Elaine and I helped, we saw the unkempt figure of the tramp borne in
and laid down. He was not completely overcome, having had presence of
mind to tie a handkerchief over his nose and mouth.
Elaine hurried toward him with an exclamation of sympathy. Just
recovering full consciousness, he heard her.
With the greatest difficulty, he seemed to summon some reserve force
not yet used. He struggled to his feet and staggered off, as though he
would escape us.
"What a strange old codger," mused Elaine, looking from me at the
retreating figure. "He saved my life--yet he won't even let me thank
him--or help him!"