CHAPTER IX.
A DESPERATE PLIGHT.
“I believe that man is following us!”
It was Jack who spoke. He and Frank had now been in the English metropolis two days, and to-day were walking along the Strand, watching with the greatest interest the preparations for war.
Upon all sides troops were being moved through the streets, on their way to the front. They marched along singing and cheering, while from the walks great crowds cheered them as they passed. The boys had just resumed their walk after watching one body of troops pass, when Jack made the remark that begins this chapter.
“Followed!” exclaimed Frank in surprise. “Why should anyone follow us?”
“I am sure I don’t know,” was Jack’s reply; “but just the same I am sure that man is following us.”
“Well,” said Frank, “we’ll try and see if we can’t give him the slip. Come on!”
The lads quickened their pace and turned quickly into the first side street. As they rounded the next corner they glanced back and saw that the man Jack believed was on their trail hurrying after them.
“Quick!” said Frank, catching Jack by the arm, “into this store!”
The lads dodged into an open doorway, and a moment later saw their pursuer hurry by. The lads immediately slipped from the store and retreated in the direction from which they had come.
“Well, I guess we got rid of him, all right,” declared Jack.
“Have you ever seen him before?” asked Frank.
“His face seemed familiar, but I cannot place him,” was Jack’s reply. “Hold on, though,” he exclaimed suddenly, “I know now who he is!”
“Who?” demanded Frank.
“He was one of the sailors aboard Lord Hastings’ yacht. I remember that long, sharp nose. Now what do you suppose he is following us for?”
“You’ve got me. However, I guess he is not following us any longer!”
But Frank was wrong.
The man who had been following the two boys had not been thrown off the trail by their ruse. He was too old a hand at the game to be shaken off so easily; but he had recognized the fact that the boys knew they were being shadowed. Now he kept farther in the background, well out of sight. As a result the lads, upon returning to the American hotel, where they had taken rooms, were not aware that their pursuer had followed them to its doors.
After dinner the boys sat down in the lobby of the hotel, awaiting the arrival of Hetherington, who had promised to meet them there at 8 o’clock. A taxi driver entered, approached the desk, and a moment later a page started through the lobby, calling:
“Mr. Templeton! Mr. Templeton!”
“Here,” said Jack, rising.
The page handed Jack a letter.
“It’s from Hetherington,” Jack told Frank, after a hasty perusal. “Says he is unable to meet us here, but for us to come to his place in the taxi he has sent for us.”
“All right,” replied Frank. “But I must go upstairs a moment first,” and he started hurriedly for the elevator.
“I’ll wait in the taxi,” called Jack, and he followed the chauffeur to the street, where the taxi stood in the shadow of the hotel.
The chauffeur opened the door and the lad climbed in. As he did so, two strong hands reached out from the darkness of the cab and took him by the throat, while a third hand was clapped over his mouth to prevent his making an outcry. At the same moment the door was slammed shut, and the taxi rolled swiftly away.
Jack struggled desperately, but in vain. The sudden attack had been well timed and, struggle as he would, Jack could not shake off the hold on his throat, but soon sank back unconscious.
Then the hand upon his throat relaxed and a voice exclaimed in German:
“He’s as strong as an ox. It’s a good thing both of them didn’t come.”
“Well, we have got him, all right,” came a second voice, “and this is the one the chief wants, I am sure.”
When Jack regained consciousness the taxi was still rushing swiftly along, and the lad found that his hands were securely bound behind his back.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded of the darkness of the cab.
There was no reply, and Jack repeated:
“I say, what’s the meaning of this?”
“You will know soon enough,” replied a voice in a harsh tone. “In the meantime, if you don’t keep quiet, we shall gag you!”
Under this threat, Jack held his peace.
For almost an hour the taxi bowled along swiftly, then finally came to a stop. One of Jack’s captors alighted, and the other pushed Jack from the cab. They dragged him up a short gravel path to a rather pretentious looking house and into the door.
In the house the lad was taken to the third floor, where he was led into a nicely furnished room. Then his hands were untied, and his captors backed out of the room, locking the door behind them.
“I wonder what on earth this is all about,” Jack asked himself when he was left alone. “I’ll bet they have me mixed up with someone else. Well, I’ll have to wait and see!”
For an hour Jack sat silently awaiting the arrival of someone; but no one came.
“Guess I might as well lie down and get a little rest,” he told himself finally; “I’m likely to need it.”
He lay down on a couch at one end of the room and was soon asleep.
Two hours later he opened his eyes again. A drop lamp was lighted upon the table, which also contained a tray with a most appetizing supper of broiled squab, salad, ices and coffee. The boy arose, and for the first time explored the room.
The door was of oak, two inches thick, and was bolted upon the outside. Deciding that no personal violence was intended for the present, Jack thought he might as well fortify himself with a good meal.
As to his whereabouts he hadn’t the slightest idea. He had scarcely finished the squab, when the door was unlocked and a burly man with a blonde beard and the general appearance of a savant came in.
Carefully securing the door behind him, the visitor drew a chair up to the table and comfortably seated himself.
“I trust the supper is to your liking, Mr. Templeton? You have everything you wish?”
“Yes,” replied Jack, as he pushed back his chair; “and now, would an explanation of why I was brought here be in order?”
“Why, yes, I guess so,” was the reply.
“I’ll be glad to hear it,” said Jack.
“Well, I have been led to believe that, through the activity of England, the life of the Triple Alliance was snuffed out. I think that admission will do no harm; and while, of course, I might have snared a greater bird than you—a man higher up—I decided that you would not be so quickly missed.”
“But what have I to do with the death of the Triple Alliance?” demanded Jack.
The German, for such Jack knew him to be, shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
“You see, we have discovered the part you played in Tripoli,” he said. “Knowing enough to be allowed to take part in such a coup, you must know a great deal more. I know that the Triple Alliance was put to death through English aid; and I know that you know it. Also I know that you know how it was done, and the names of all connected with the coup. That is what I expect you to tell me.”
“Well,” said Jack quietly, “I won’t!”
“Come now,” was the reply. “I know you know these things.”
“Admit for the sake of argument, then,” said Jack, “that I have certain information. How do you intend to extract it—against my will?”
“It does appear difficult to you, doesn’t it?” was the rejoinder. “But we have learned to manage all that with little trouble.”
“You’ll not manage me!” declared the lad.
The visitor smiled.
“Are you familiar with the weed that produces what is called the Sleeping Sickness?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Jack, becoming interested, for he had seen many animals unconscious for hours after eating the weed.
“Very well,” continued the visitor. “Now, I will tell you that we have extracted the juice of the weed, and that the liquid can easily be mixed with any sort of food or drink. Do you follow me?”
Jack nodded his head.
“Whoever eats food or drinks anything containing a quantity of this shortly becomes delirious, and while in that condition will talk of the things that have been most impressed upon his mind. In the food you have just eaten a sufficient amount of this tincture has been placed to put you in such a condition.”
Jack was conscious of a cold chill running through his back at the possibilities so coolly suggested, and his jaw set with a great determination.
“But suppose I should not talk?” he asked.
“There is not one chance in a million of failure,” was the reply; “but, if it does fail, I shall probably consider it necessary to do something worse.”
Again the cold chill ran through Jack’s body. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so the visitor rose from his seat, remarking:
“Perhaps you will tell me what I desire to know without all this unpleasantness, eh?”
“No,” replied Jack.
“Very good, then. I have talked enough,” and he approached Jack. “It is time to act!”