“What is it, Johnny?” Pant whispered in alarm. Johnny’s hands covered his face.
“The flash! My eyes! They’re blind!”
Pant pushed him roughly to one side.
“Let’s see.”
Johnny slid back to the other car platform. Still dazed by the sudden flood of light that had struck his eye, but fast recovering, he watched Pant with interest, not unmingled with awe. By the sudden spurts of light that shot through the crack, he knew that the flashes were being continued, yet Pant did not remove his eye. He still crouched there before the crack. Gazing intently within, he uttered now and then a stifled “Ah!” and “Oh!” at the marvels which he was viewing.
Finally he dropped back to a seat beside Johnny.
“Eyes all right now?” he asked.
“Sure. What was it?” queried Johnny, forgetting his aching eyes.
“Color photography.”
“Color photography?”
“Sure. One of the great inventions of the age, and they are using it for making counterfeit bonds!”
Johnny was silent.
“You see,” whispered Pant, “great inventors have been experimenting with color photography for years. They got so they could do color work on negatives—that is, the photographic plate—very well. They have used these for the purpose of photographing the stages of certain diseases, and a few things like that; but when it came to getting the color on the positive—the picture itself—that could not be done. These fellows can do it, and are doing it. The bonds are printed in brown and black. They catch these colors perfectly, only in a little paler hue. Their paper is nearly perfect, but whatever defects it has are counteracted by this color photography which reproduces the very tints of the paper.”
For some time they sat there in silence.
“Now that we know their game,” whispered Pant at last, “how are we going to get them? One of the fellows is a ticket seller. He sold Snowball some bonds when we were in Chicago. I might have known he was in it. Another is a guard at the entrance of the big top.”
“Sold me some bonds once.”
“That’s right. The other two I don’t know. Let’s have another look.”
Pant had just put his eyes to the crack; Johnny was standing behind him, when there ran through the train a sickening shiver. The next instant there followed a deafening crash, as car jammed upon car, and, leaping high upon one another, left the track.
It was a wreck—such a wreck as is seldom witnessed—the wreck of a circus train; a head-end collision with a bob-tailed freight running like mad.
At the moment previous to the first shock of the wreck, Gwen might have been seen sitting in her own compartment talking earnestly with the millionaire twins. None of the three had yet undressed for retiring. The things the twins were telling Gwen had much to do with Johnny Thompson, and appeared to interest her very much, for now and then there came an amused, and again a surprised, twinkle in her eye. At one time, a close observer might have seen her slip a ring from her finger, a ring that had been covered by the folds of her dress. The ring she crowded deep into the pocket of her blouse beneath her handkerchief.
When the wreck occurred, the car they were in, a staunch steel affair, leaped high in air, then wholly uninjured, left the track to topple over on one side and lay there quite still.
Gwen had been shaken from her seat and jammed beneath the one before her. The twins, gripping the sides, held on as if riding a fractious broncho, and were not shaken loose.
“Oh!” cried Marjory, as the car settled to rest, “Johnny Thompson and our ponies! We must find them. They may be killed.”
The pair of them, sliding from their seats, had crawled through a window, and were away before Gwen could sufficiently recover her breath to call them back. She wrung her hands in real distress.
“They’ll be killed!” she cried frantically. “Half the lions and tigers in the circus must be loose!”
Then she scrambled out of the car to find Johnny Thompson. He would know what to do!
CHAPTER XVII
“GET THAT BLACK CAT”
At the first shock of the wreck, Johnny Thompson and Pant were thrown with such violence against the express car door that the lock was sprung, and they were pitched head foremost among the surprised and panic-stricken counterfeiters.
Pant was the first to regain his wits. The car, like many others, had careened to one side and lay there motionless. The instruments in the room had been tossed about. Everyone was splashed with a stinging fluid which came from the vats. The peculiar instrument which had occupied the center of the room, and was undoubtedly the color-photo camera, an instrument of priceless value, had apparently sustained little injury. Pant seized upon this and was about to dash through the door with it, when the large man with the black moustache wrenched it from his grasp, and, poising it for an instant in his right hand, hurled it at Pant’s head. Leaping to one side, Pant barely escaped the blow. There was a crash, followed by the tinkle of glass and metal instruments.
The next moment the big man shot suddenly upward and fell back with a groan. Johnny’s good right hand had got him under the chin. Two of the men leaped from the door and fled. The one remaining sprang at Pant, but was at once borne down by Johnny.
“Tear some of those wires from the wall,” panted Johnny. “We’ll tie them and drag them out.”
The fat man, who was completely within their power, was soon tied, then carried out of the car to the embankment.
“Now for the other,” puffed Johnny.
They dodged back into the car. To their astonishment, they found that the other man had escaped.
“Gone!” muttered Pant.
“Faked unconsciousness.”
“And he was the prize bird of them all.”
“Too bad!”
Suddenly Pant appeared to remember something.
“Johnny,” he whispered in a tense whisper, “Johnny, get that black cat!”
Catching his breath, Johnny sprang from the car.
“Wait,” whispered Pant. From his pocket he had drawn a tiny vial.
“That,” he whispered, “may help you. It’s what they call cat-lick in India. An old Hindu gave it to me after I had captured the big black cat. He said it was like catnip to the cat. When a tiger or leopard smelled it, if he could get near the spot where a drop had been spilled he forgot his savageness, and laid down to roll in it. I’m not sure. It sounds queer. Try it if you must.”
“You got some?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll go up track; you go down.”
“Right! And Johnny,” Pant repeated, “get the black cat!”
Johnny had scarcely turned from the car when he almost ran into somebody.
“Gwen!” he exclaimed in surprise. “What you doing out here? Don’t you know half the beasts are loose? Listen to that?”
The long drawn out roar of a lion sounded above the wail of darkies, the neighing of ponies, and the trumpeting of bull elephants.
“I know, Johnny, but Johnny, nothing half so terrible could ever have been dreamed of!”
“The wreck? I know. Some people are almost sure to have been killed.”
“But the twins?”
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know. They were in the car with me when the shock came. They were telling me about—all about you. They got away while I was freeing myself from the seats. Went to find you and their ponies. Oh, Johnny, we must find them quick!”
“Yes,” Johnny answered, “but watch out for the black cat, the leopard. He’s a man-eater from the jungle.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “And I saw him not a minute ago. He’s loose from his cage. He was crouching in the corner of the wreck. I caught the gleam of his eyes.”
“Where?”
“Back there.”
Johnny started forward.
“Johnny, you won’t go?”
“I must.”
“You’ll be killed.”
“I’ve got to get him first.” He drew an automatic from his pocket. Then he walked steadily forward, his keen eyes studying every dark corner of the wreck.
Down the train lengths lights were flashing. The keepers were searching out the cages, striving to retain those animals which had not yet escaped, and to locate those that were free. The wooden cars of an ancient design which carried the animals had been torn and crushed, piled upon one another, until the wreck at this point resembled a kindling pile. Here one heard the splintering of boards, as some beast attempted to free himself, and here the crash of torn-up planks told that some loyal elephant strove to free his mate. The whole scene was one of wild confusion. Wildest, most terrifying of all, came the occasional challenge of a great cat of the jungle, now free to do the bidding of his own wild will.
* * * * * * * *
Hardly had Gwen turned, after Johnny had hurried away, than she uttered a cry of dismay. Creeping toward her, his wild eyes gleaming, was a gaunt, yellow tiger. For a second she was paralyzed with fear. And in that second the cat made progress—now he was ten yards away, now eight, now five.
What should she do? To turn, to attempt to flee seemed futile. A tiger could run much faster than she. He might leap as she turned. Her heart stood still. Cold perspiration came out upon her brow.
Just when hope seemed gone a strange thing happened; a thing which had happened once before under very different circumstances; a crimson flash leaped out from the darkness and played upon the tawny coat of the tiger. Blinded, terrified, the beast shrank back, yet the light still played full upon him. Leaping and flaring like the light of a fire, it held the animal at bay until the keepers came with chains and led him away.
* * * * * * * *
When the twins jumped out of the car window to go in search of Johnny Thompson and their ponies, they stumbled down the embankment to climb laboriously up again, and make their way tripping and falling around wrecked cars, from which came weird, wild sounds of animals fighting for freedom.
Suddenly from beneath Marjory’s feet there sounded a queer chatter. Then something clawed at her legs. With a wild scream, she shook it from her. It was a monkey that had escaped from his broken cage. Others could be heard chattering to the right of them. Leaping forward they were startled by a great bulk that loomed unexpectedly before them in the dark.
“An elephant!” screamed Margaret.
For a minute they hesitated; the next, they leaped to one side and, having passed the elephant, continued on down the track. Always to the left of them there loomed the overturned cars. All at once, from beneath the wheels of one of these there came a piercing scream. At the same instant they caught the gleam of two red balls of fire glaring at them out of the blackness. Some fierce, wild creature was lurking there. And he moved. Stealthily he made his way toward them. Now he was away from the cars. A black spot, he glided forward, his glaring eyes seeming to grow larger and larger as he advanced.
Seized with a sudden paralysis of fear, the twins stood rooted in their tracks.
* * * * * * * *
With a little gasp Gwen sank upon the ground. She looked in vain for the crimson flash. It was gone. And now, for the first time she realized that she did not know the direction whence it had come.
After leaving Gwen, Johnny Thompson made his way cautiously along the uneven embankment. Now his eye caught a gleam that appeared to come from the great cat’s eyes. It proved but the reflection of some polished object. Again he heard a rattle among splintered boards, only to find a colored roustabout climbing from the pile of broken lumber under which he had been buried. Johnny was just beginning to believe that he had missed both the black beast and the twins when something leaped at him out of the darkness.
It took him but a second to realize that this was not a wild beast, but a man; the king of the counterfeiters.
Taken by surprise, he went down with the man upon his back. At the same instant he caught the gleam of a knife in the outlaw’s hand. There could be not one shadow of doubt that he meant murder.
A terrible struggle followed. The man, fully fifty pounds heavier than Johnny, was at the same time agile and strong. Now the knife was poised in air, only to be dashed to the ground. Now Johnny secured a half-nelson. Now his hold was broken. And now Johnny was thrown to earth with such force as to render him half unconscious. Struggling against a terrible dizziness, he fought but feebly. The end seemed to have come.
But, at that moment, there came a shrill voice:
“I’m here, Johnny Thompson! I’m here!”
One moment the knife poised above his chest; the next a diminutive figure attached itself to the arm that held the knife and sent it whirling to one side.
“Tom Stick, the midget clown!” gasped Johnny, renewing his struggle for freedom.
Dimly in the half light, he saw what followed. Turning all his attention to this new enemy, the counterfeiter appeared to seize the dwarf by the heels and dash him with terrible force against the ground.
Then, almost instantly, a great, brown bulk lumbered in out of the blackness, and at that instant, with a gurgling cry, the counterfeiter appeared to rise in air to be sent crashing again and again against the side of the embankment.
“Jo-Jo, the French elephant, Tom Stick’s friend!” cried Johnny, leaping to his feet to bend over the prostrate form of his little defender.
Two attendants came hurrying up.
“It’s Tom Stick,” explained Johnny. “That other fellow’s dead. The big bull elephant killed him. And right it was. He deserved it. Look after Tom. I’ve got to find the twins and the black cat.”
Once more, after recovering his automatic, which had been thrown from him in the first assault of the counterfeiter, he leaped away into the dark.
He was not a moment too soon, for as he dropped down from a pile of tumbled bales of canvas he came face to face with the twins. They were standing wild-eyed, transfixed. Not ten yards away and within leaping distance, his tail lashing, his white fangs gleaming, was the great black cat.
With uncommon coolness Johnny grasped his automatic and, taking careful aim at the spot between the creature’s fiery eyes, grasped the handle tight. There came a metallic click, but no report. The gun had jammed—was utterly useless. With a cry of consternation, Johnny dropped the gun and reached for his clasp knife. Thus poorly armed, he was about to rush at the man-eater, when there came the sudden glare of red light as it played upon the great cat.
“The crimson flash! Thank God!” he murmured.
But the next instant he remembered the words of Pant, when he had told of his jungle experience: “He did not fear my charm; he leaped!”
What now would be the outcome? It was a time of terrible suspense. Johnny’s breath came in little gasps. One of the twins had dropped to the ground.
There was not long to wait. Whirling, the cat leaped away to the right. Then, for the first time, Johnny saw that the crimson flash came directly from a dark bulk, a clump of bushes close to the track. There had been no time for tricks, Pant had flashed it direct, and he was there now. The great cat would be upon him in another minute.
Even as he sprang after the cat, Johnny thought for the first time of the magic perfume, the cat-lick Pant had given him. Drawing this from his pocket, he uncorked it as he ran. He was not a second too soon. Already the beast’s fangs were at Pant’s throat.
With mad hope beating at his heart, Johnny dashed a few drops of the precious perfume at the beast’s head.
Prepared as he was for miracles, he was astounded at the result. The wild beast became at once a mere house kitten rolling upon the ground. Over and over he tumbled, while Pant, limping painfully, crept away.
Throwing a glance about him, Johnny saw Tom Stick’s house to the right of him, and remembered how it had been built around a cage.
“Door’s still on the hinges and open,” he muttered. “If I only can!”
Six steps he took, and with each step, spilled a drop of the precious fluid. Then, with a breathless leap, he was inside the dwarf’s house. Dashing the vial against the wall, he caught his breath at the thought that the cat might trap him here; then with a wilder leap than before, he cleared the door and breathed the outer air.
He was not a second too soon. Hot on the trail of that burst of perfume, the cat flashed past him and into the house that was a cage.
Johnny banged the door shut and barred it, then sank down upon the ground for a quiet breath.
Soon he rose and, making his way to the bushes, examined the spot where the black cat had pinned Pant to the ground.
As he flashed a light about, he uttered a low exclamation, and stooping, picked up the bent and lenseless ruins of Pant’s glasses. He dropped these a second later to gather up a mass of fine wires and strangely tangled tubes and peculiar instruments. These he crammed into his jacket pocket, and, having cast one more glance about him, hastened away to find the twins.
CHAPTER XVIII
HOW JOHNNY GOT THE RING
The first red streaks of dawn were appearing as Johnny sat down on the beam of a railroad bridge a quarter of a mile from the wreck.
It had been a strange, wild night. Many startling things had happened; many mysteries had been solved. Now that these mysteries were uncovered he had come down here to think.
Tom Stick was not one of the counterfeiters; he knew that now. Neither was the steam kettle cook, nor the conman with the ragged ear. The real culprits had attempted to cast the guilt upon them, that was all. The arch criminal, Black McCree, was dead. Jo-Jo, the elephant, had thrashed the life out of him when McCree had attempted to murder his master, the midget clown. The fat accomplice of Black McCree had confessed that his partner was that notorious criminal. He had denied having any knowledge of the working of that strange color-photo camera. Black McCree had chosen to take that secret with him to the other world. Pant had turned the whole matter over to two of his assistants and had disappeared. That the remains of the camera could be pieced together was doubtful.
In the struggle with Black McCree, Tom Stick had been beaten into unconsciousness, and had suffered severe bruises, but would be back at his work in two or three weeks.
The twins had been taken to a near-by farm house, where they were safe for the night. Fortunately, their ponies had come out of the wreck uninjured. In an hour or two Johnny would accompany them to their grandparents’ home. Should he return to the circus? He doubted it. The mystery of the whereabouts of the diamond ring was yet unsolved. Gwen had had it. So had Millie. He half blamed himself for not demanding the right to keep it when it was in his own hand. But Gwen was such a good sport. He had hoped a more appropriate time might come. Now he believed he would go to his former employer and make the best of an unbelievable story. He made a wry face at thought of it.
But Pant? He had disappeared again. Johnny had not seen him after the fight with the black cat. Mother Kelly had dressed his wounds, which were slight, and he had vanished.
At thought of Pant, Johnny dug into his pocket and drew forth the mass of wires, tubes and instruments which he had picked up on the spot where the cat had attacked Pant.
He toyed with this mass musingly. He thought it had dropped from Pant’s pocket. “Some part of the counterfeiters’ equipment,” was his mental comment. Twisting the wires about, he turned a thumb-screw here, pushed a tiny lever there, pressed a bulb—when, of a sudden, his eyes were struck by a blinding flash of blood red light.
His unnerved fingers released the mass of wires, tubes and instruments, and the next instant his startled eyes saw it disappear beneath the muddy waters of the river.
“The crimson flash!” he moaned. “And I had the secret of it here within my grasp!”
For a time he considered the possibilities of recovering it, then dismissed the thought as futile.
Then for a while he sat there speculating on the strange phenomenon of the crimson flash. How had Pant achieved these wonders? Where had he worn this mass of delicate instruments? There were times when the flash had come and gone with the speed of the blink of an eye. Perhaps the switch had been attached to Pant’s eyelid. Such things had been done. Yet, all this was speculation. Johnny shook his mind free from it. Speculation is always futile.
He was about to rise and return to the wreck, which was even now assuming the appearance of a train again, when he heard footsteps approaching.
It was Gwen. Johnny rose to meet her as she came toward him.
“Sit down, Mr. Clown,” she smiled. “I want to talk.”
“You’re a good old clown,” she smiled again, as they seated themselves, “even if you did come near breaking your neck.”
“Somebody fired the balloons with arrows shot from an air rifle.”
“What!”
“Sure. I thought it was Tom Stick, but it wasn’t. He saved my life last night. Guess someone must have stolen his air rifle to pull the trick.”
“As I was about to say,” continued Gwen, “you’re a good old clown, and just for that I want to give you something. So, ‘open your mouth and shut your eyes, and I’ll give you something to make you wise.’”
“Steady there,” warned Johnny, as he cupped his hands solidly together. “If it’s of any value don’t drop it. I’ve lost one secret in the river already.”
“It’s valuable, all right.”
Johnny felt something touch his hand. The instant his fingers closed upon it, he knew what it was.
“The ring!” he exclaimed.
“Yes; that’s it,” she laughed. “The twins told me all about it last night. Of course we didn’t know it was yours, or we wouldn’t have kept it. When we first found it, we three girls thought it was glass. When we discovered it was a real diamond, we were already in Chicago and didn’t know what to do, so we just kept it, and took turns wearing it. But Johnny, when you had it in your hands that day, why didn’t you keep it?”
“That’s what I don’t know,” smiled Johnny. “I guess you were such a good sport I hated to lose you as a friend, and I hoped a better time would come.”
“It has come, Johnny; but something tells me I am the one to lose a pal. You’ll leave the circus?”
“Yes,” Johnny admitted reluctantly. “I guess I’m going to do that.”
“It’s always the way with a person who is used to living in a house,” sighed Gwen. “The circus is for circus people. Anyway, I can wish you good luck!”
They rose. She put out her hand. He gripped it heartily.
“And Johnny, if ever the big top calls to you, just remember the outfit I’m with, and there’ll be a job waiting for you. I’ll want you for my clown.”
She turned and walked rapidly away.
Johnny watched her for a moment, then, crossing the bridge, made his way toward the farm house where the twins were awaiting him. He would escort them back to a safe dwelling place; the ring should be returned to them, and if possible, he was resolved that the circus career of the millionaire twins should be a secret shared only by those to whom it was already known.
Transcriber’s Note
- Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text—this e-text is in the public domain in the country of publication.
- Typographical errors were corrected without comment.