THE COME-BACK
It was more or less fun for Perk to keep up that bombardment as long as
he had any ammunition left--the heavy thumps on the roof continued to
follow each other, like blasts in a quarry or an admiral's salute when
the "old man" took a notion to come aboard.
So, too, would each concussion be followed by a spurt of gunfire from
behind the closed door of the shack showing that Oswald was alive to the
situation and must be enjoying his share in the strange engagement quite
as much as the fun-loving Perk did his part.
If the little rock pile held out and there were enough ammunition belts
for the machine-gun handy, the chances were that the roof of the
bungalow would assume the nature of a sieve and leak when the next heavy
rain storm set in.
Perk was fully aroused now, and awake to his part of the
bombardment--his mind began to figure just what other means lay within
his reach to continue engaging the attention of the rat in the trap
after the last rock had been fired.
Some of them he knew had rolled off the slightly sloping roof after
accomplishing their duty. If only he could lay hands on them they might
be made to serve again but the darkness would make this problematical.
There was that log he had mentioned to Jack--with it he fancied he might
do something to keep up the feverish interest in the game and hold
Oswald's undivided attention.
What added more or less to the thrill he was enjoying was the fact that
at any minute the ready marksman inside might succeed in reaching him
with a bullet fired at some new angle. Jack had told him how Kearns was
said to be quite a wizard at making bullseyes in a flying target either
with a pistol or a rifle.
He was still going heavy although nearing the end of his ammunition,
when something not on the calendar came along, something so unexpected
that Perk was taken quite by surprise. A weighty and metallic object
struck him on the head with such violence that he saw a million stars
all at once, as though a myriad of rockets had exploded simultaneously
high in the air.
He went down like a stone, his senses reeling under that frightful
impact and yet half conscious of the fact that some one must have come
up behind him in the darkness and struck him with a heavy weight.
Now he could feel hands groping about his person as though seeking to
find where to follow up that first blow with another that would
effectually wind up his career for keeps.
Rendered desperate by the nature of his situation Perk threw up both
hands and chancing to come in contact with a human form, closed in with
what might almost be called a death grip--his one object being to thus
hold the unseen enemy close and prevent him giving a second blow that
would be in the nature of a knockout.
He met with fierce resistance, but no matter how desperately the other
struggled and fought he was unable to break Perk's terrible hold, so
like that of a fighting bulldog, once its teeth have closed for keeps.
There the two antagonists rolled to and fro, striving in turn to get on
top, only to be over-turned in rotation. What made it all the more
exciting was the fact that the man in the shack, hearing all those queer
noises, must imagine his enemies were trying to burrow under the door
for he kept up frequent furious bursts of gunfire and at any moment an
unlucky roll was apt to bring the wrestlers within range of the hail of
bullets.
One thing favored Perk--he was by degrees getting over the deadening
sensation following that frightful blow on his head--apparently the
other was weakening in the same proportion that Perk was gaining
strength, showing that he must have been in anything but prime condition
when the tussle started.
It was this potent fact that gave Perk his first inkling as to the
identity of the man with whom he struggled. At first he took it for
granted the fellow was the tall confederate they had noticed with Kearns
during the late afternoon, and who had perhaps been away and returned to
the shack just at this interesting moment to find it in a state of
siege.
He had hardly begun to get an inkling as to the true state of affairs
when one of his hands, in seeking to get a firmer hold, chanced to come
in contact with something cold and hard. Then he understood just why his
antagonist seemed to be so handicapped in the scramble--he could stretch
his hands apart only so far--they were apparently held fast in some
mysterious fashion.
It burst upon Perk like a bomb from a sky chaser--why, after all this
was an old friend of his, one whom he had only recently been hugging
with all his might and main--in fact no other than the short confederate
of Kearns whom they had left beside the well but a brief time
previously.
In some manner, which was a complete mystery to Perk, he had managed to
get his legs free from that binding rope which had been wound around and
around his ankles in many coils and then knotted half a dozen times.
Perk found it hard to realize this puzzling fact, but just the same he
knew it must be the truth.
He proceeded to continue his rolling process with additional vim, partly
because he now knew the other could not get a chance to whack him again
with both hands handcuffed--for that was what had actually occurred and
it proved his first surmise--that hard metal had come in contact with
his cranium.
Presently it came about that Perk was enabled to clutch the throat of
his antagonist and for the second time close his fingers on his larynx,
shutting off his wind completely and causing history to repeat itself.
The fellow gave up immediately, thus hoping Perk would diminish that
paralyzing grip which the other condescended to do. When this had been
carried through Perk made up his mind not to trust to a rope again--in
the first place he had no rope and even if this were not the case he had
for the time being lost all confidence in ropes as restraining agents.
He remembered he had a second pair of steel bracelets in one of his
pockets, having fetched two pair along with the idea they might have to
include some pal of Kearns' before finishing their job.
He quickly had the fellow lying inert and acting as though he did not
have another bit of fight left in him. Managing to pull out the
handcuffs, Perk first tested them for size, and finding he could snap
them shut after circling the ankles of his prisoner he did so with a
vim. This would effectually prevent the man from getting any distance
away, since he could move his feet only a few inches at a time at the
best.
Perk struggled to his feet, feeling more or less dizzy. His first
natural act was to put a hand to his head, and feel it gently, in order
to ascertain the character and extent of his injuries. There was a cruel
lump on his crown and he knew blood was streaking his face but on the
whole he did not believe he was very badly hurt--perhaps after the
double beating the other fellow had received at his hands he was worse
off than Perk--an idea that started the latter chuckling, even if the
act caused him a sudden dart of pain that made him wince.
Then he remembered what was going on, knowledge of which had been
knocked out of his head by the unexpected fight that had taken place.
How about Jack?
He dimly remembered hearing further shots from behind the barrier,
although unable to decide whether the bullets continued to break through
close to the bottom of the door or otherwise. Could this later fire have
been directed at Jack, who had unwisely exposed himself at the side
window?
Perk was strongly tempted to disobey orders and hasten around the corner
in order to learn the worst. If that daredevil inside had hurt his pal
he would be mad enough to find some way of blowing up the shack and the
gas-mad ex-soldier along with it, regardless of consequences. He only
waited long enough to run his swollen hands over the recumbent figure of
the man in irons so as to make sure he could not play the same mean
trick a second time. Finding everything fast, he turned away from the
scene of his recent ruction, and hurried around the corner of the shack,
bent on backing up Jack or, in case his pal had been placed out of the
running, to avenge his injuries without delay.