AT BAY
Jack had been keeping a watchful eye on the nearby shack, not knowing
what moment a raging figure might come dashing forth armed with a
rapid-fire gun and ready to sweep up the earth with the mangled bodies
of himself and Perk.
Somewhat to his surprise, and greatly to his relief as well, nothing of
the kind came to pass. Suddenly he realized that the door of the squatty
little coquina rock building had been closed, for no longer did the
light spread a banner out into the black night.
"Drag him back of the well here, Perk," he said softly, "we've got to
make certain he'll give us no further trouble. Got that piece of stout
rope I gave you?"
"Right here, partner--wrapped around my waist," and as he thus managed
to make himself heard, even while so short of breath, Perk caught hold
of the nearest leg of his late antagonist and without the least ceremony
dragged the senseless man several feet just as he might a bag of
meal--when head-over-heels in a real scrap Perk counted his opponents as
so much junk whose fate it was to be handled without ceremony and yet
after the row was over, no one could be more solicitous about binding up
their hurts than Gabe Perkiser.
"Use the rope to fasten his ankles together," advised Jack, standing
guard meanwhile with his automatic ready for business and his keen eyes
roving around in search of signs along the trouble line, "and knot it
half a dozen times so it would take a knife blade to get free."
"All done up brown and slick, Jack old hoss, now what?" announced Perk a
minute or so later.
"Clap that new pair of bracelets on his wrists," further explained the
head pilot briskly, "and be sure to frisk him for a gat or even a knife.
You see, we're going to have our hands full with the boss and can't fool
around with this chap any longer."
"His name is Mud!" scornfully declared Perk briskly as he completed his
task with the manner of one to whom it had become an old story.
The fellow, it seemed, had recovered his senses for he tried to bite
Perk's hand and received a solid thump on the head for his pains.
"So far, good," Jack was saying, half to himself. "Now let's move along
to the house and make sure our bird hasn't skipped out while we were so
busy at the well here. Got all the drink you want, Perk--we can't be
coming back every little while just to wet your long neck!"
"It's okay with me, boy, let's go," the other announced with a chuckle.
Leaving their prisoner lying there they started an advance on the shack.
Both eyed it carefully as they crept along and it was Perk who noticed
the first favorable sign.
"Door's shut, partner, but the light's still on--you c'n lamp a streak
down near the sill, think he's on deck yet--ain't cut an' run like a
blue streak?"
"We'll soon find out," Jack assured him. "'Twouldn't be like a guy with
his reputation as a scrapper to clear out so quick. I'm wondering
whether he's fixing up some hot reception for us when we break in."
"Hot ziggetty! that is sure some rummy scrap," Perk muttered as he kept
close tabs on the shack now close by as though he more than half
anticipated seeing it suddenly burst into flames, or go up in fragments
under the influence of an explosion.
Now they had reached the door and Jack made a slight effort to open it,
but with no success.
"No use," he whispered to his kneeling mate, "it's got the bar down in
place. Listen and see if you can catch a sound from inside."
A minute passed with both straining their hearing to the utmost--Perk
even laid his head against the closed door so as to better catch any
suspicious sound from within.
"Huh! guess they ain't nothin' doin', partner," he hissed in a
disappointed tone, "thought I did get a little ruslin' sound, like paper
bein' crumpled up when you're a'makin' a fire, but don't hear it no
longer."
"Paper, you say?" snapped Jack uneasily, "I don't like that any too
much."
"Why not?" asked the other, evidently at a loss to understand why such a
simple little thing like that could annoy any one--what if the man at
bay figured on setting fire to the hidden little retreat he had arranged
here close to the lonely lake where he could slip away whenever he felt
like shunning those society people over at crowded Miami--he surely had
no intention of cremating himself and they could nab him if he started
to make off.
"Paper--don't you know what he was doing when we peeped in--that book
ought to be worth its weight in gold to us as evidence and that stack of
papers that he was looking through--if he's given enough time he may put
a match to the bunch and destroy everything that could be used against
him. We've got to keep him from doing that, brother."
"Yeah--but how?" gasped the other, showing renewed signs of excitement
as he visioned the holocaust with their fine plans going up in fire and
smoke just when they seemed about to corral success.
Jack answered that question by striking the door with his foot, the
result being a loud thump. Then he caught hold of his chum and dragged
him to one side. None too soon was this done, for there came a series of
staccato explosions from inside the shack and tiny gleams of light in
various sections of the door told that bullets had passed through the
wood in a number of places. Only for this prompt action on the part of
the cautious one, either or both might have had leaden pellets lodged
promiscuously about their persons with resultant painful sensations.
"Wow! that was what I'd call a close shave," whispered the kneeling Perk
as he surveyed those suspicious holes in the badly riddled door, all on
a line with any crouching human figure without.
There could no longer be any doubt as to the warlike intentions of the
man they had at bay, his fighting spirit, first fed during those bloody
days and nights in the Argonne, had burst into flame again and he shed
his free and easy character as the lord of that wonderful palace at
Miami to assume the rough and ready type of an adventure-loving smuggler
chief, quick to defy all authority while the red blood rioted in his
veins.
"We've just got to keep him on the jump," Jack was saying, "so's to
occupy his attention and keep him from putting a match to those papers
and that priceless account book with its addresses. Here, find a way to
get in a smash or two on the door, like we meant to break in--I'll slip
around and see what can be done at the window."
"Jack, I 'member there's a log a'lyin' right over there--why couldn't I
use that an' really break through?"
"Too dangerous, buddy--he'd turn that terror of a machine-gun on and
wipe us off the map. Do what I'm telling you, only keep back so he can't
get you when he shoots again."
"Just watch my smoke," grunted Perk, stooping to feel around for some
object that could be made available for the purpose of a door knocker.
"Wait," he heard the other saying as he was starting to move off.
"Here's a little pile of rocks--pick up one and toss it on the roof of
the shack--make him think we're climbing up, meaning to break in that
way--anything to keep him so busy dodging and firing he'll have no time
to start that blaze."
Perk grasped the main idea, which was to fight for time--given even half
a chance, he knew his pal would find some way to accomplish the end he
had in view which was to take Kearns a prisoner with enough positive
evidence of his guilt to convict him when placed on trial in a Federal
court.
Hastily then did Perk scramble for the rocks mentioned by his
companion--it was much too dark for him to see where they lay, but he
used his common sense with such signal success that almost immediately
he found what he sought.
To toss up a good-sized rock with such vim that it came down on the roof
with a loud bang was the work of a few seconds. Hardly had the crash
sounded than Perk had another missile on its way and as long as the pile
held out he meant to keep up a continual fusillade that would have the
man inside guessing.