CHAPTER XV
CHARGE!
“Those guards out of the way, all right? What’s that behind that pile of furniture?” Captain Welch was talking to P. J. Jolls, in the lonely cabin on the hill, while Poodle and General Thorne listened through a hole in the thatch.
“You’re pretty nervous for an Army officer, strikes me. That’s a shadow behind that furniture, and that’s all. Of course if you want me to take it away, it would give me pleas—” Mr. P. J. Jolls voice was filled with contempt.
“Well, you’ll get nervous if you don’t watch out. ’Fact, I think you will right now, Jolls, for it’s about time to tell you what I want before we go any farther. I want you to boost my seventy-five thousand to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“Whew!” commented the General, on the roof. “That might be almost called a bribe! So that’s why Welch wanted us to take Jolls’ aeroplanes!”
“Whew!” Jolls was ejaculating below, like an echo. “Say, what do you think I’m made of? Why, even seventy-five thousand is too much. I won’t make a cent over a hundred thousand clear profit on the contract, even as it is, even if the Board grants a full million; and if you get seventy-five thousand, I’ll get only twenty-five. And a hundred and fifty thousand, why, that will just mean fifty thousand coming out of my pocket.”
“Oh, cut that. You’re lying, and I know it, and you know I know it. I may be nervous but I’m not afraid of you or your hired thugs—private detectives, you like to call ’em; murderers I call ’em. I’m sorry I ever went into this fool business; even if I do need the money for that gambling debt, and even if I do hate those goody-goody fools like Jack Adeler and that old woman General Thorne—with his knitting.”
(Just then this same General Thorne, not so very many feet away from Captain Welch, was clinching and unclinching his plump hands as though he had hold of some one’s throat. Poodle was busily stuffing his handkerchief into his mouth.)
Captain Welch was going on, “I’m not in this for my health. You know that if we get found out I’ll be the most disgraced man in America—next to you. But I’m getting desperate anyway. Desperate, do you hear me? That gambling affair, and the shortage in accounts at Fort Myer (I’d like to kill you for finding that out)—they’ll come out if I can’t get hold of plenty of hush-money. And then I’ll have to have enough over so I can resign from the Army and go to Europe for the rest of my life. I’m desperate I tell you. Now either you come across, or I’ll split to General Thorne—tell him the whole business by letter, and make a getaway from the country. It’s easy enough for me to move—I haven’t got any factories like you to take with me, and I’ll be welcomed in at least three South American armies. Here’s my ultimatum: Sign up for a hundred and fifty-thousand, or I walk out of this cabin—with my revolver out and the drop on you and your thugs—”
“ALL RIGHT!” snarled Jolls. “Take your bribe.” And he signed a small sheet of paper which the Captain tucked into his pocket.
Poodle was surprised to hear something much like a repressed chuckle beside him; and the General whispered, “It’s lovely—it’s lovely! I’ve already heard enough to land Captain Welch in disgrace.”
“Well, now,” Jolls was saying, below, “let’s get our lines straight, and then we can talk to this Griffin boy. Young whelp! I’d like to kill him just on general principles. First, we’ll make him sign that letter. I think an hour in the swamp will have him about where we want him. Then to-night I’ll have Bat do the second-story burglar act, and steal all the plans of the tetrahedral that there are here in Washington—at the Lieutenant’s room and the patent office. That last is the most dangerous thing yet. As for Priest, you’ve got the data on his having been arrested for forgery have you?”
“Yes,” said Welch.
“Is that true—was Martin Priest a forger?” the General hastily whispered to Poodle.
“Yes, he confessed it to Lieutenant Adeler and us,” admitted Poodle.
The General answered, “Then it’s all right, and we’ll just forget it.”
Below, Jolls was going on with his plot:
“We’ll let that get into the newspapers, and at the same time we’ll send Priest young Griffin’s letter, and a faked letter from the General, and enough other stuff like that to make him think he’s disgraced and he’ll just disappear. I’ve had my men studying him closely enough so that I know he’s pretty sensitive. I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble with him. You still feel that the electric firearms he carries make him too dangerous to attack directly?”
“Yes,” again said Captain Welch.
“Well, all right, but I wish we could kill him.”
“Yes, it is too bad his appetite for raw meat’s spoiled,” Poodle whispered, like a “little cherub that sits up aloft.”
Jolls was going on: “And you’ll ’tend to burning up the tetrahedral all right, will you? Well, that’s fixed. I guess that will cover it so that we won’t hear anything more. The only things we’ve got to look out for are Adeler and that Torrington boy—no, Torrington Darby I guess his name is. Well, he’s not dangerous—he’s one of these fat little innocents. We’ll let him alone.”
“Thanks,” that “fat little innocent” softly crooned, on the roof.
“I guess young Griffin will keep his mouth shut before we get through with him. ’Fact, I wouldn’t mind having him tied up in the swamp till he went clean crazy and never could talk again,” said Jolls, coldly.
“Neither would I—young imp,” snapped the Captain.
“What I’ll do to you, sweet Captain,” the General murmured, on the roof.
“That leaves Adeler. I’ll have to devise some way to fix him—we might just suggest to Bat that he’d better disappear—but I wouldn’t like to kill any one,” Mr. Jolls spoke very sentimentally.
“Oh, no,” said Captain Welch, sarcastically, “I know how tender-hearted you are. But do what you please—so long as I get the hundred and fifty thou. and can get out of the country.”
“Arrangements look all right to you?” Jolls asked.
“Yes,” said Welch.
“Well, then, let’s go down and have a look at young Griffin. You remember to see that not a shred of the tetrahedral is left. (Say, call the guards, will you, now?) Run a fuse into its fuel tank or just sprinkle kerosene over—”
While Jolls was thus giving final directions, his thugs were summoned; and then, very suddenly, there was “something doing.”
The General stood straight up, and lighted, not one signal-match, but a whole box, flinging them flaming up into the air. A moment before he had seemed a rather puffy, quiet old man, but now he was changed into a red-hot fighting devil. He tore away at the thatch, with his revolver-butt.
Poodle caught up great handfuls of the old straw, too, and as the General dropped through on the astounded seven men below, Poodle dropped with him, revolver in hand.
As he landed on the floor of the cabin, the General toppled over and sank to his knees. He had turned an ankle. But, kneeling, he covered the Captain, just as the Captain drew a revolver of his own. For a second no one moved; Poodle, Jolls, the guards at the door, all stood with held breath, while the General on his knees and the Captain standing covered each other with their guns. Then Jolls picked up a chair and swung it high over the General’s head, behind.
Poodle forgot his own revolver and swiftly adopted class-rush tactics. Swinging his leg about, he kicked Mr. Jolls in the puffy fat ankles, just once. That was enough. The business man dropped the chair with an “Ouch” as foolish as the squeak of a mouse.
Just then there was a commotion at the door. The guards faced about, and right into them charged Jack Adeler and his armed aids. The guards rushed out.
Through the window slid Hike Griffin, tottering from his exposure, but a very grim look on his face. He dropped fairly on top of the astonished Captain, caught the revolver with his toe, and sent it hurtling to the roof. The General was up instantly, and roared to Captain Welch and Jolls, “Into that corner there, or I’ll fire.” The two plotters backed into a corner, and the General kept them both covered.
Three of the guards were covered by the Lieutenant and his soldiers. One was down and out from a soldier’s club-blow. But Snafflin had dropped on his stomach and was wriggling off through the grass. From an outside corner of the cabin, scarcely seen in the dim light from scattered lanterns, he carefully aimed his revolver at the Lieutenant.
Just then Bat—one of those covered by the Lieutenant’s men—made a flying leap toward the corner of the house. One of the soldiers fired, and the bullet took Bat in the shoulder. But Bat caught Snafflin’s wrist, and rolled over in the grass, still feebly holding the revolver. As he let it go, Hike darted over and fell upon Snafflin, catching him full in the face with his fist. He got a wrestler’s half-Nelson on Snafflin, and before the thug could recover, Poodle had slipped a pair of handcuffs on him.
The General now marched out his two chief plotters, and made a short, sweet speech to all of them:
“You gentlemen—I’ll have to let you all go—including your chief rascal, Mr. Jolls. I have no civil warrant for your arrest—didn’t have time to get one. I apologize for the neglect. But I’ll have warrants issued at once. Jolls, I’ll not only have you arrested, but I’ll see that every bit of the news about your plans is given to the Associated Press, and that you are disgraced for life. You, Captain Welch, I place you under arrest. You will come with us. You needn’t be told what will happen to you. There’s one of your thugs who has saved the Lieutenant’s life—I saw the incident through the door.”
The General pointed to Bat, and Hike said, “Bat’s his name. He was kind to me when I was tied up—mighty kind. Wanted to let me go. I’d like to see him freed.”
The General continued, “Well, the rest of you—except Captain Welch and Bat—you can all lay down your revolvers and get out of that gate. You’d better make the best time you can, for permit me to warn you that I’ll have the best detectives in the country on your trail as soon as warrants are issued.”
Four of the five hired thugs, with Jolls at their head, hastily sneaked down the hill, toward the place where Jolls’ automobile had been left. (They were destined to have a cheerful little disappointment for the Lieutenant had found the automobile, while waiting for the signal, and, being in uniform, had been able to send the chauffeur flying off to town, by threatening to arrest him.)
The victors were left with Bat and the Captain. The latter stood sulkily waiting. Bat was sitting on the grass, with Poodle tying up the injured shoulder with a strip of his own shirt sleeve. Up to him came Hike, exclaiming, “Bat, old man, I’d like to shake hands with you.”
“All right, kid,” said Bat, cheerfully, “I’d jus’ soon—but take my left wing. T’other just got on the bum. I was picking a bullet out of the air—like baseball.”
“Bat,” said the General, “I’d like to have you make—what do you call it? Oh—I’d like to have you ‘make a getaway.’ Have you any money?”
“About ten dollars.”
“Well, here’s forty. That will help some. Now promise me you’ll get away as quickly as you can. I’ll see that the detectives don’t search for you as hard as they do for the others, but your connection with the gang will get you into trouble unless you get good and far away from here.”
“I’ll do it, sir,” declared Bat. “Thanks for the forty. I’ll beat it.”
He rose, rather dizzily, shook hands with Hike silently, and headed for the gate. Then the captors turned to their prisoner, Captain Welch.
He faced them, grimly. He had not given up the game yet.