CHAPTER XVII.
THE TABLES ARE TURNED.
Amidst a continuous roar and rattle of thunder and flashing of vivid lightning, Jack and the still unconscious Tom were thrown, none too gently, into the old barn. Luckily, the soft nest of hay saved them from bruises.
“Now let’s be getting back to the car,” exclaimed Duke.
“How about splitting that money right now?” growled Duggan.
“That will wait.”
“It won’t.”
“Well, I say it will.”
There came a blinding glare of lightning. Jack, who was now lying on his side, saw Duke’s face, even as a flashlight illumines the countenances of a party waiting to have their pictures taken in a dark room. It was livid and evil, but determined.
“Oh, you do, eh, Mister Duke?”
There was a panther-like snarl in Blinky’s voice.
“I do, yes.”
“Well, we don’t. You split it right here and now.”
“That’s right; do as Blinky tells yer.”
This time the menace in Duggan’s tone was unveiled. He made a step toward Duke. The other recoiled. It was plain then that he feared his desperate employees.
“Hold on, Duggan,” warned Blinky, who appeared the more pacific of the two.
“What for? We were chumps ever to have given him the money.”
“How do ye mean?”
“Why, couldn’t we have knocked him on the head and got away with it, eh? That’s what I’d like to know.”
Duggan’s voice held a high, angry note.
“I wish they’d all get to fighting among themselves,” thought Jack. “What’s that old saying, ‘When thieves fall out, honest men come into their own’?”
“Come, Duke, give us our money. Then you take your car—the one you brought us here in ahead of the boys—and get out.”
“Yes, the car’s hidden in the bushes yonder. Give us our money, go start your car, and then we’ll go our way and you yours. You won’t see us again.”
“In any case,” growled Duggan.
“What do you mean by ’any case’?” snarled Duke.
It was plain enough to Jack that he had planned to make dupes of the two men and take all the money. Now that his plans were frustrated, he was by turns humble and threatening.
“None of your impudence,” he growled; “aren’t you under me in the works? Don’t your jobs depend on me?”
“No more than yours depends on our keeping our mouths shut,” ground out Blinky.
“Aw, stow all this lip.”
Duggan shot out the words with menace. His eyes blazed.
“Look here, Duke, yes or no? Play or quit? Money or no money? Ah, you would, would you?”
Duke, as if by magic, had produced a pistol and was leveling it at the others. But Duggan was fully his match. A quick jab of his fist, a twist of his wrist, and the revolver went flying out of his hand. It spun through the air toward Jack, landing in the hay close beside the boy. Before any of the three quarreling men knew exactly what had occurred, Jack was facing them, the pistol just knocked out of Duke’s clasp in his hand.
It did not waver as it swept the semi-circle of desperadoes. Blank astonishment was written on their faces as a flash showed them their boyish defier and the formidable weapon—it was an automatic of the latest type—that he grasped.
“Confound you, how did you get that pistol?” bellowed Duke irately.
The others, their late troubles forgotten, made as if to beat a retreat.
“Look out. I’m nervous and my hand might shake,” warned Jack, a mischievous sense of humor overcoming him at their panic. “If it ever did,” he went on, “ten shots would come out of this gun—all at once!”
“You—you—young——” sputtered Duke impotently. He almost appeared to foam at the mouth. “Your hands were tied. How did you get them free, you young jackanapes?”
“No conjurer is bound to tell the secret of his tricks, Mr. Duke,” rejoined Jack, who was actually beginning to enjoy the humor of the situation. “Isn’t it enough that I have got them free, and that you threw me your pistol? That was real kind of you.”
“I—I didn’t throw it to you, you young rascal. Those scoundrels, Blinky and Duggan, jerked up my arm.”
“I’ll take the deed for the will,” declared Jack with perfect coolness. “Don’t move, any of you. I’d hate to discharge this thing.”
Duggan sputtered like a dumb animal, mad with fury. He was past speech.
“It all comes from meddling with these ’Boy Inventors,’” he growled. “I’ve heard of ’em before. Nobody ever got ’em dead to rights yet.”
Flash! Bang! A blinding flash; an ear-splitting crash! The earth seemed to be suddenly bathed in blue flame, while the air sizzled with crackling electricity. Then came a deafening explosion and a still brighter flash of light.
Jack thought he heard a cry, but before he could make certain he himself toppled over.
A bolt of lightning had struck the old barn, felling also all three actors in the drama at which we have been onlookers.