THE OLD FENCE IN A TRAP.
"What shall we do?" said Bob, with no little alarm, as Herbert Randolph
climbed up through the old trap door.
"We must defend ourselves," replied the young Vermonter, with
characteristic firmness.
"There ain't no way to escape, is there?"
"No, I suppose not, if the hall door is locked."
"It is, and I can't find no key."
"Have you looked since the gas was lighted?"
"Yes, and 'tain't there nowhere."
"Where do you imagine it is?"
"I guess the old duffer has it in his pocket, the same as he has the key
to the trap door."
"Well, there is no time to lose. Old Gunwagner will be down upon us in
an instant."
"Do you think he will bring a revolver with him?" asked Bob, somewhat
nervously.
"Very likely he will."
"I guess we'd better climb down cellar, then, and pretty lively, too."
"No, we won't," replied Herbert, decidedly. "I have had all of that
prison I want. We will fight it out here."
"All right, then, I'll shut this door down, or we might get thrown down
cellar in the fight."
"So we might, and---- Ah, here he comes!" said young Randolph, detecting
the sound of footsteps, as old Gunwagner approached.
[Illustration: GUNWAGNER BURSTS INTO THE ROOM IN A FURIOUS MOOD.]
"Stand in front of the counter, so that he will see you when he opens
the door, and----"
"But the revolver!" interrupted Bob.
He had now entirely relinquished the leadership, for in Herbert Randolph
he recognized his superior.
"I was going to tell you about that," replied our hero. "If you see a
revolver in his hand, you must drop behind the counter as quickly as
possible."
"Yes, and I won't waste no time about it, either."
"No, you'd better not," said the young Vermonter; and he had barely time
to dart behind the door, when old Gunwagner placed his hand upon the
latch, and burst into the room. His eye fell upon Bob Hunter, who stood
directly in front of him, but about two thirds of the way across the
room.
The old fence recognized him instantly, and with a fiendish shout made
for the lad, as if he meant annihilation. He had not proceeded far,
however, when young Randolph bounded from behind the door, and fell upon
his shoulders, bearing him to the floor.
A yell of terror escaped from the old villain, that told clearly of his
alarm. He had not thought of Herbert until now. He was at a loss to know
what caused the noise, when the trap door slipped back with such a
resounding crash.
But when his eyes fell upon Bob Hunter, he readily jumped at the
conclusion that he alone had caused the rumpus. Now, however, he was
stunned at this unexpected assault from the rear. When Herbert and the
old man fell to the floor, Bob Hunter was quickly at his friend's side,
ready to take a hand in the struggle, if needed.
While old Gunwagner was a cruel, heartless man, he nevertheless lacked
genuine courage. Like the majority of men of his class, he was a coward
at heart. He therefore readily gave up the struggle, when surprised by
Herbert Randolph.
"It's your turn now, old man," said our young hero, triumphantly. "Last
night you pounced upon me, and seemed to like it. Now perhaps you will
enjoy this!"
A coarse oath, characteristic of the old villain, was the reply.
"You may as well submit decently. You are in our power now, and if you
behave yourself, you will save us the necessity of compelling you to
obey."
The old fence grated his teeth, and looked the very incarnation of all
that was evil. The wicked spirit that shone in his face would have
afforded a rare study for a painter. He made a movement of his right
hand, as if to reach back to his hip pocket. A movement of this sort,
under such circumstances, is considered suggestive of firearms.
Bob did not wait to see whether he was reaching for a revolver or some
other ugly weapon, but instantly fell upon this hand, and secured it.
The other hand was in Herbert's firm grasp, so it was useless for the
old fence to struggle further.
"My turn has come now to get square with you, you cruel old sinner,"
said Herbert. "I begged of you to take me out of that foul cellar and
away from those dreadful rats, but you showed no mercy."
Gunwagner made no reply.
"Yes, and he was goin' to send you off on some kind of a ship tomorrow,
so you would never get back to New York no more," said Bob.
"Send me off on a ship!" exclaimed our hero, with a shudder. He had not
until now even imagined the full purpose of his enemies.
"Yes, that's what they said tonight, him and that Mortimer feller."
"And you heard this?"
"Yes, when I was in that box under the counter there," replied Bob, with
enthusiasm; "and they talked about bank robbin', too."
At this revelation old Gunwagner seemed to give up all hope. The
hardness of his face melted into an expression of pain, and he trembled
with fear, like the frightened thing that he was. He had been outwitted
by the young detective.
"Richard Goldwin's bank, I suppose," replied young Randolph, almost
dazed at the audacity of the villains.
"Yes, that was their game in getting you out of the way."
"I didn't think of that before."
"Well, you hain't been in New York very long, and so you don't know the
way they do things here--them that is bad, like this gang."
"How did you find out where I was, and how in the world did you manage
to get in here without being seen?"
"Well, you see, I was a detective," said Bob, with a show of pride.
"A detective!" exclaimed the young Vermonter, looking at his friend with
the innocent wonder of a country boy.
"Yes, but I hain't got no time to tell you about it now. We must be
movin', you see."
"So we must," replied Herbert.
Doubtless old Gunwagner, too, would have liked much to hear Bob relate
how he discovered his friend's prison. But even this small satisfaction
was denied him.
"What's the first move?" said Bob.
"I have been thinking about that," replied our hero.
"Of course, we must have him arrested."
"Certainly we must."
"Oh, no, don't, don't!" pleaded the old man, speaking for the first
time.
"It is too late to plead now," said young Randolph. "You should have
thought of this before committing the evil that you have done."
"But I am an old man, and he led me into it."
"Who?"
"Mortimer, Felix Mortimer. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't er done
it."
"Oh, that don't go with us," said Bob. "I heard the whole story tonight.
You was into the game with him, and now you're trapped you wanter
squeal, that's what you do. But it won't do you no good. You are a bad
lot from way back--gettin' boys to steal things for you!"
This was a revelation to young Randolph, as he did not know until now
that old Gunwagner kept a fence.
"Don't have me arrested, boys," whined the old villain, now trying to
work on their sympathy. "It would kill me. I am so old."
"Do you expect sympathy from me, after your heartless treatment?" said
Herbert.
"He made me do it," was the reply, referring to Mortimer.
"Nonsense, you could have taken me out of that old cellar if you had
wanted to do so."
"Yes, and do you think you would er showed me any sympathy, if you'd got
me into your clutches alone?" put in Bob.
"I wouldn't have been hard on you."
"No, you wouldn't," said the young detective, sarcastically. "Your talk
tonight, when I was hid away, sounded as if you wouldn't er been hard on
me--oh, no, you wouldn't. I could tell that from the way you plunged at
me just now, when you came through that door with your war paint on."