Kitabı oku: «A Woman at Bay: or, A Fiend in Skirts», sayfa 6

CHAPTER X.
ESCAPE OF THE HOBO QUEEN

It was about a week later that Nick Carter received a note from the president of the railroad which caused him great astonishment. It was brief and to the point. It read:

"Can you call on me at once? Black Madge has escaped."

That was all, but it was enough to stir the detective to action, and, taking Patsy, who happened to be in when the message arrived, along with him, Nick at once visited the office of the railroad.

"Well, Carter, it didn't take long for Black Madge to make good her threat, did it?" said the president as he rose and shook hands with the detectives.

"I think," replied the detective, smiling, "that, considering the trouble we were put to in capturing her, it was a very short time for us to hold her. Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Cobalt?"

"Do? Why, you can catch Black Madge again for vs."

"Oh," said the detective, smiling. "Can I? Well, possibly."

"You see," the president continued, "we have called a hasty meeting of the board since the information of the escape of Black Madge came to us, and we have decided that no effort shall be spared to get that woman into custody again. At liberty, she is a constant menace to the welfare of the road, and of every town along the line, as well as of everybody who lives in those towns."

"I'll admit that she's a bad one," said Nick.

"We don't want her at liberty. With the following she has, she is a dangerous woman – much more dangerous than a man would be in her position."

"I don't know about that. But she is dangerous enough without argument about it."

"Exactly. We want her caught. And we want you to catch her."

"I imagine that this time, Mr. Cobalt, it will be rather a harder task than it was before."

"Why so?"

"She will be very much more on her guard now than then. And, besides, she knows enough about me to know that now I will most certainly hunt her down."

The railway president was thoughtful a moment, and then he said:

"You see, Carter, the very manner of her escape is a menace to us."

"How is that?" asked the detective. "The first and, therefore, the only information I have had on the subject was that contained in your message, which told me merely that she had escaped. What is there that is particularly interesting about the manner of her escape?"

"Then you have not heard about it, eh?"

"I have just informed you that I have heard nothing."

"Well, to say the least, her escape was characteristic. Her hoboes did it for her."

Nick raised his brows.

"You don't say so!" he exclaimed. "Well, we might have expected something like that, I suppose. I regarded it as a little bit unfortunate that the arrest was made in the county where it was, for that compelled us to put her temporarily in the Calamont jail – and I thought at the time that the Calamont jail was a trifle close to her stamping ground. Now, suppose you tell me exactly what happened."

"You know Calamont, of course?" asked the railway president, and the detective smiled broadly.

"I know very little about it," he said, "with the exception that I assisted in the robbing of a bank that is located there."

It was the president's turn to smile.

"That was a queer experience for you, Carter, wasn't it? But the president of that bank is quite willing that you should rob it again on the same terms. You know we fixed him all up again, and my company promises to keep a large deposit there now. Altogether, they regard your descent upon the bank as a very fortunate experience for them."

"No doubt. Now about that escape."

"Calamont is a village of about three thousand inhabitants. That bank, for instance, is the only one there."

"What has that – "

"Wait a moment. Calamont has suffered a great deal from the depredations of the hoboes, and now has a force of special constables, whose duties consist in arresting and taking to jail every tramp who crosses the borders of the village. The other night, when Madge made her escape, the jail was filled with them."

"Oh," said the detective. "I begin to understand."

"Exactly."

"It was a put-up job on their part to get as many of their kind as possible in the jail for that night, and then to take their queen out of it; eh?"

"Precisely; and that is just what they did do. You see, the tramps began coming in early in the day. They made intervals between the times of their arrivals, and they appeared at different parts of the town, so that before anybody realized it, the jail was about filled with them. But they seemed not to know one another, and so the residents of the town went peacefully to sleep that night, as usual."

"Well?"

"Well, in the morning when they woke up, the jail had been gutted – literally gutted."

"In what sense do you mean?"

"In every sense."

"Tell me what you mean, please."

"I mean that all the tramps who had been locked up there overnight had disappeared; that they had managed to break into the main part of the jail, and that when they went away they took Black Madge with them; and that before they went away they passed through the jail with axes and smashed everything in sight. They tore down partitions, they smashed doors, and where the doors could not be smashed, they destroyed the locks. They tied up the jailer, and threatened to kill him – I regard it as a wonder that they did not kill him."

"So do I. Go on."

"That is all there is to it. They went there, of course, with the deliberate intention of rescuing Black Madge – and they did it."

"I suppose they must have taken to the woods north of the railway line; eh?"

"You've guessed it, Carter."

"That is a wild country up through there, Mr. Cobalt."

"You bet it is. I used to go through there every fall on a hunting expedition, when I was younger. The country hasn't changed much since that time. It is as wild as if it were in an uncivilized country, instead of being surrounded by – "

"I understand. Then you do know something about that country up through there, eh?"

"Yes; I used to boast that I knew every inch of it; but, of course, that wasn't quite so, you know."

"Yet you remember it fairly well?"

"I think so."

"Tell me something about it, for that is, I think, where I have got to search for the woman we are after."

"There isn't much to tell about it, save that it is wild and uneven; that the formation is limestone, and the timber is largely red oak. The mountains – or hills, rather – are not high, but they are precipitous, rocky, impassable, full of ravines, and gulches, and unexpected depressions, and scattered around through that region there are innumerable caves, too."

"That is bad," said the detective. "It will make it so much the harder to dislodge the hoboes."

"So you have got your work cut out for you this time, and no mistake."

"Could you suggest a competent guide for that region, Mr. Cobalt?"

"Old Bill Turner – if he would go."

"Who is he?"

"An old hunter, who used to take me out with him, and who afterward served as guide for me. But he is an old man now."

"Where does he live?"

"In Calamont. You will have no difficulty in finding him. Ask the first man you meet in the street to direct you to old Bill Turner, and he will do it."

"That part of it is all right – if he is not too old to go."

"Oh, I think he can be induced to do it. Old Bill likes the looks of a dollar as well as any man you ever knew. You have only to offer him enough, and his rheumatism will disappear like magic."

"Then that part of it is all right, too. I am to understand that I have the same free hand in the matter that I did before?"

"Of course. Your directions are: Catch Black Madge and break up her gang."

"And that, I suppose, is about all that you have to say to me at present."

"Yes; unless you have some questions to ask."

"Not one, thank you. I will ask them of Black Madge – when I catch her."

"Good! I hope it won't be long before you can ask them."

"I don't think it will be very long; only, she is a little bit the smartest woman I ever tried to handle."

CHAPTER XI.
PATSY'S DANGEROUS MISSION

When Nick Carter and Patsy left the office of the railway president, they strolled in silence down the street until they came to a restaurant, and, entering, they found a secluded table in one corner, where they seated themselves and gave the order for luncheon.

When it was brought to them, and the waiter had departed, Nick said to his assistant:

"Well, Patsy, we start about where we began on the other case, with the single exception that we have broken up the stronghold in the swamp. It is safe to say that Madge has no less than fifty men around her, and probably as many more. I should not be surprised if there were fully one hundred in the gang, all told."

"Nor I."

"Well, I shall start for Calamont as soon as I have finished with the meal I am now eating."

"And what do you wish me to do?"

"I want you to do a serious thing, and a dangerous one, Patsy."

"Good! That is what I would like to do."

"I think that Black Madge rather liked you in your character of a young Irish crook; but I think also that she had some suspicion of you."

"There isn't any doubt of that."

"And, therefore, it will be an extremely dangerous thing to do to return there, and still represent yourself as the same character."

"Gee! Is that what you want me to do?"

"Yes. Do you suppose it can be done?"

"It can be tried."

"You must not forget that they will look upon you with suspicion."

"Oh, I don't forget that."

"They will connect you with their misfortunes at once. Handsome, particularly, after being so nicely fooled by me, will be even more suspicious of you."

"I think I can get around Handsome, all right. It is Madge I am shy of."

"There will be one thing in your favor, Patsy, if you do undertake it."

"If I do undertake it? Of course, I shall undertake it."

"Then there will be one thing in your favor."

"What is that, please?"

"The very fact that you do go back among them in the same character in which you appeared before. I am inclined to think that now they would not take in a new man, no matter how well he might be recommended; but one that they have known before will stand a lot better chance with them."

"I think so."

"The very fact of your returning will go far to allay any suspicions they might have had about you formerly. It would never occur to them that if you were really a detective that time, you would dare to return to them in the same character."

"You are right about that."

"And, consequently, if you succeed in passing the investigation of the first few hours, you will be all right."

"I am going to try it, anyhow."

"Good, Patsy! But don't for a moment forget or neglect the danger you will be in every minute you are there."

"I will not."

"You will have to cook up a good story – "

"I have that all ready now."

"Then you can start whenever you please. I shall not interfere with you in the slightest manner."

"But I want a little further instruction, chief."

"The only instruction I have to give you is this: Go there; get among them; become one of them, and one with them; pick up all the information about them that you can, with names and identifications, so that you will be a good witness against them when the time comes."

"I can do that."

"I want you to work independently of me entirely. Your only part of the game, so far as it is directly connected with my part of the work, will be to hold yourself in readiness to lend me a helping hand from the inside at any moment I may happen to want you."

"Of course. That goes without saying. Are Chick and Ten-Ichi going to be in this?"

"Yes. But I have not determined in what way as yet. You will have to be on the lookout for them. I may take one of them with me, and send the other in to follow you. Or I may send both after you, and go it alone myself. Or I may take them both with me. All that will depend upon what information I pick up when I get to Calamont."

"I see."

"Now, Patsy, it is up to you. All that red you used on your hair before has not disappeared yet; but you had better go to a hair dyer's and get it fixed up over again. Then make yourself over once more into Pat Slick. I leave the rest to you. But as a last warning, I repeat – look out for that man Handsome."

"Oh, I am not afraid of Handsome. He's a – "

"He is a much smarter man than either of us gave him credit for. He is an educated man, who can represent the hobo so perfectly that you would never suspect that he has a college education. And he is devoted to Madge. Look out for him. He is her right-hand man, and he is dangerous. If he saw through you before, or had any idea that he did see through you, your life won't be worth a snap of your finger the next time you meet – unless you can manage to shoot first."

"I know that, too. But he did not suspect."

"I am not so sure of that. Madge had a little time to think things over while she was in the jail, and as soon as she got out, she and Handsome had a chance to talk things over. With their two heads together, they make about as dangerous a pair to play against as could be imagined."

"All right. I'll stand pat – and bluff."

"Be careful that they don't call you. That's all."

"Is there any particular game afoot with the hoboes just now?"

"Not that I know of."

"What specific charge are we after Madge for?"

"No specific charge, save that she is accused of all the old ones. There is enough against her to send her to prison for the rest of her life, once she is caught."

"I guess that's no pipe dream."

"The railway people object to her being at liberty. That is about all."

"And it is up to us to catch her?"

"That's the idea."

"What about the rest of the gang?"

"If we can round up the entire outfit, that is what they want us to do. We are to get as many of them as we can, and make the charges after that. That is what you are going inside the ring for: to pick up all the information about the individual members of the gang that you can."

"I see."

"The battle cry is: Break up the gang! Root it out, so that it cannot grow again."

"It is a pretty big proposition, chief; don't you think so?"

"It is a big proposition, and no mistake. But I shall make my arrangements about that part of it, so that if we ever succeed in getting them rounded up, there will be no difficulty in carrying out the rest of it."

"All right. Now, I suppose I have my instructions."

"Yes."

"And that's all?"

"Yes."

"And you don't expect to see me or to communicate with me again until – when?"

"Until I see you inside the stronghold of the hobo gang."

"That is all right. We'll meet there. I'll get there, and I'll find a way to make them believe in me."

"I hesitate to send you on this business, Patsy. You have never in your life gone out to face quite as much peril as you will find in this expedition of yours now."

"Well, I'll face it; and I'll overcome it, chief."

"You're a good lad, Patsy. God bless you!"

"Don't worry about me, chief; not at all. I will be all right. The hobo hasn't been born yet who can get away with me."

"Don't forget that there are perhaps one hundred of them."

"I'm not forgetting it."

"And that the worst and most dangerous of the lot is the man called Handsome."

"I'll not forget that, either."

Nick rose from the table and stretched out his hand.

"Good-by, my lad," he said. "I don't know when we will meet again. A lot depends upon yourself. Even now I feel almost as if I ought not – "

"Don't say another word, please. I'm going to do what you have laid out for me to do. I wouldn't obey you now if you should change the order."

"Oh, yes, you would. But I won't change it."

And so they parted there in the restaurant.

And a little later Nick Carter took the train for Calamont.

CHAPTER XII.
BILL TURNER, THE WOODSMAN

When Nick Carter arrived at Calamont, he was disguised as a lumberman. It was not exactly the season of the year for lumbermen to enter the woods, unless they were measurers, who were engaged in preparing in advance work for the winter; so that was the character which Nick Carter adopted.

Measurers go into the woods, measure trees on the stump, as it is called, blaze them with cabalistic marks, and otherwise prepare the way for the workers with the axes and saws who are to come later.

It is well known that some of the most expert lumbermen in the world are French Canadians, and so Nick adopted this character, and he knew that as such he could wander at will around the woods and mountains of that region without danger of being suspected for what he really was.

If any of the hoboes who made their headquarters in that region should see him, they would not be inclined to suspect what he really was, and the only actual danger he would stand in would be that they might be inclined to knock him on the head or shoot him from ambush in order to possess themselves of the few articles he had in his possession.

And for that very reason he adopted the disguise of a French Canadian lumberman, for it was rarely that they were supposed to have anything more than what they carried in sight on their backs.

The month was September, and therefore warm. The leaves in some places were getting yellow and red, although there had been no frost; but oak leaves turn earlier than others.

When he descended at Calamont Station, he stood there on the platform until the train had pulled out, and the other passengers who had arrived by it had departed their several ways. Then he approached the baggageman.

"Me want find ze man named Beel Turner," he said slowly.

"What's that?" asked the baggageman.

"Me want find Beel Turner."

"Oh! Bill Turner, is it? Well, go up that street there until you come to the post office. You'll like enough see an old, white-whiskered chap standing there, chewing tobacco. That'll be Bill Turner."

"Beel Turner? He ees known here? No?"

"Known here? Gee! He has lived here since the oldest inhabitant was a baby. He has always lived here. He is about a thousand years old, my man; but as strong and as lively as a kid yet. You'll find him somewhere around the post office."

Nick thanked him in his broken English and strode up the street.

Sure enough, when he arrived in the vicinity of the post office, he saw a white-whiskered man standing there, and he approached him at once.

"You ees Beel Turner?" he asked modestly, sidling up to the man.

"I be," was the response, while Bill Turner fixed his clear gray eyes upon the detective. "What might you be wantin' of me, stranger?"

"I have – hush! – I have some money for you, Beel Turner. Can you take me where we can talk so that nobody will overhear us?"

Turner eyed him suspiciously for a moment; then he turned abruptly away with the remark:

"Come along with me, stranger."

Nick walked beside him through the town to the very end of the main street. Then they turned into a roadway, which led up a steep hill for some distance, and which presently brought them to a modest cottage that was almost hidden under the brow of the hill.

"Here is where I live," said Turner. "I live here all alone, 'cept a cat and two dogs. But the dogs hev got old like me, now, and they can't go out among the hills as they used to; although, bless you, I reckon I kin walk jest as fur as ever I could, if I try. Come in."

Nick followed him inside, and Turner offered him a rocker near the open window. The whole house was as neat and clean as if it had the care of a woman.

"Now, mister," said Turner, "what hev ye got on yer mind?"

"In the first place," replied Nick, in his natural voice, "I am not what I seem to be. I am not a lumberman, or a Frenchman – or a Canadian. I am a detective."

"Sho! You don't say so. Well, that beats me. Sure, ye do it fine, mister. I would never hev suspected at all that you are not what you seem. But go on."

"I have come here after that gang of hoboes who infest the neighborhood for fifty or sixty miles around this place. I am principally after the woman who is their chief. Do you know who I mean?"

"I reckon ye must be referrin' to that there Black Madge and her gang."

"That's right."

"Well, yer up agin' a proposition. That's all I kin say about it."

"I know that; and what I want of you is to get you to help me with that proposition, Bill Turner."

"Ain't I too old?"

"Not a bit of it."

"Is there good pay in it?"

"The very best; and there is fifty dollars down for you right now – if you are inclined to do as I want you to do."

Nick took a roll of bills from his pocket as he spoke, and laid it on the table before the avaricious glances of the old man.

"Well, sir," said Turner slowly, "all I've got to say is this: If I can do what you want done, I'll do it. I want that money as bad as anybody could want it and not grab it right now where it is lying; but I have never had a penny in my life that I didn't get honestly, and I am afraid that I'm too old to do what you want done."

"I tell you that you are not."

"Then, in that case, I'll take the money and put it in my pocket – so. There! Now, go ahead. If the work is honest, and such as an honest man can do, I'll do it – if I ain't too old, and you say I ain't. But if the work ain't honest, I'll return your money. Now, what is it, mister?"

"I want you first to promise that you will not reveal my identity. I must be Jules Verbeau to you to the end, and you must forget that I am not he in fact."

"You kin consider that done, sir."

"Second, I want you to answer some questions for me."

"Fire away."

"How well do you know the hills and mountains, the ravines and gulches, the rocks and the caves around this region?"

"As well as I know that dooryard in front of you," replied the old man, pointing through the window. "I know every inch of the country – every inch of it."

"Now, another question which you will not understand at once: Do you know how to use a pencil, and is your hand steady enough to draw plans for me?"

"Yes, sir. I began life as a draughtsman; but that was when I was a boy."

"That will suffice. Now – could you draw a plan of different parts of the mountains, so it would be plain enough for me to follow without your being present with me?"

"That would depend upon you, sir. If you are a man who has some woodcraft in your make-up, I say yes. It would depend upon you."

"We will consider that question answered, then. Now, have you any idea to what part of the mountainous region around here – say, within fifty miles of where we are seated – the hobo gang would select in which to hide themselves?"

"I think I could guess it to a dot."

"Why?"

"Because there is one region up among those hills which is exactly fitted for them; and from which you couldn't drive them out with a thousand men. That's why!"

"Good. That sounds as if it might be the place they would select. How far is it from here, as you would travel afoot."

"A matter of thirty miles."

"Now, can you draw me a plan of that region?"

"I kin."

"And how to get there?"

"I kin."

"And are there caverns there? Do you suppose those people are hiding and making their headquarters in caves?"

"Yes, to both questions. The hills round that 'ere region are honeycombed with caves. Some of 'em is big, and some of 'em is little; but there's a lot of 'em there."

"Good; and you know them well enough to give me a working plan of them? What a sailor would call a chart?"

"You bet I do."

"Now, another subject: Have you ever traveled away from here? Have you ever been to New York, for instance?"

"Never in my life. I've always lived right around here. I don't suppose I have been ten miles away from here, except in the woods, in forty years. But in the woods I sometimes used to go a good ways."

"I've no doubt of that. How would you like to make a visit to New York?"

"I should like it very much – only it would cost such a lot, you know."

"Suppose your expenses were paid?"

"Well, that would be different."

"How much, in cash, will you take for your whiskers, Mr. Turner?"

"Now what the devil do you mean by that? Are you making fun of me?"

"Not at all. I was wondering if fifty dollars more, down, would induce you to shave off your whiskers."

"Humph! Jest tell me what you are getting at and I'll answer you."

"This: I want to disguise myself so that I look like you. I want to go out in the mountains as you would go out. While I am making believe that I am Bill Turner, I want you to take a trip to New York, and to live there, at my house, and take it easy, see all the sights, go to the theatres and the museums, and all that, until I return, and I want you to shave off your whiskers, and let me blacken your brows and otherwise make some changes in your appearance, so that if any of the people from Calamont should happen to meet you in the street down there they wouldn't say, 'Why, there is Bill Turner!' Would you consent to do that?"

"For another fifty dollars down?"

"Yes."

"I would. When do you want me to shave?"

"I will tell you in good time. First, I want you to fix up those plans."

"Hadn't I better git about it right now?"

"Yes. I think you had. And I will remain here with you while you do it in order that you may explain things to me as you work upon them."

"That's a good idee, too. I can make you know them mountings as well as I do, in a short time. I knows 'em so well – "

"That reminds me. Do you happen to know by sight, or have an acquaintance with, any of the members of that gang?"

The old man shifted uneasily in his chair, and at last he replied:

"I know one of them – purty well. He calls himself Handsome."

"Good! What does Handsome know about you, Bill?"

"He don't know nothin' about me, 'cept that I'm a woodsman, and that I'm too old to do him any harm. I helped him once, and once he helped me a leetle, and we're sort of friends. But I ain't never seen him but twice in my life, and then both times I met him in the woods, so I ain't never mentioned nothin' about him to other folks."

"That's splendid! It is just what I hoped. It couldn't be better! I want you now to tell me what you talked about when you and Handsome met each other those two times in the woods."

"That's easy. The first time, I was walking through the woods, up about where you are going – that is, it was in that region – when I heard somebody hollerin' fur help. At first I couldn't tell for the life of me where the hollerin' come from; but after a leetle I located it up on the side of one of them steep hills, and so I crawled up there. Well, when I got there, I found that a man had slid into a hole in the rocks, and that he couldn't git out nohow. If I hadn't happened along the chances are that he'd starved before he'd ha' been helped out."

"And as it was – what?"

"I helped him out. I didn't have no hatchet, but I had a good huntin' knife along with me, and I managed to whittle down a good-sized spruce, which I trimmed so's to make a sort of ladder of it. When that was done I lowered the butt end of it into the hole, and Handsome – that was who it was in the bottom of the hole – he climbed up so's I could get hold of him, and then I pulled him out. There wasn't much to that, was there?"

"It saved his life."

"Probably."

"Wasn't he grateful?"

"Suttingly."

"What did you talk about after that?"

"We sot down there a spell and chinned, that's all. He axed me who I was, and I told him. He axed me if I was long in these parts, and I told him allers. He axed me where I lived, and I told him about this cottage. That's all – only he said he was a hobo, and that he was called Handsome. I allowed that the people who called him that lied mightily; but I didn't say so jest then."

"What more was talked about?"

"Nothin'."

"When was the next time you saw him?"

"That was in the middle of the summer, and it was farther south – not far from the railroad tracks."

"Well, what happened then?"

"That was the time he helped me."

"How was that?"

"I can't never tell you exactly how it was, but somehow I had got my foot wedged in the root of a tree, and I had been tryin' an hour to git it out, without success. The tree was hard, and I was just tacklin' that root with my knife – I'd have cut through it in about an hour, I reckon – when 'long comes that feller Handsome that I had saved from the hole in the rocks. He had an axe on his shoulder, and when he spied me he stopped, and laughed, and laughed until I got mad.

"'Caught in yer own trap, ain't ye?' he axed me.

"'I be,' says I. 'You've got a axe, and mebby you kin help me out o' it.'

"Well, he did. He chopped the root in a jiffy, and I was free; but, bless you, I could 'a' done it myself with my knife in a hour, anyhow. All the same, I was grateful to him, and we sot down on a log and chinned for a while."

"What about?"

"He asked me what I was doing around there, and I told him that I was thinking of looking over the swamp below the tracks a leetle, with some idea of settin' traps there late this fall and winter, and he said as how he wouldn't advise me to do it. He said as how I wouldn't be likely to ketch the sort of animals I was after, and that some of the animals might ketch me; and, as I ain't exactly a fule, I ketched onto what he meant, and I ain't been nigh that place since. And then it turned out afterward as I thought it would, them hoboes had a hidin' place in that very swamp."

"Right you are, Bill!" said Nick, laughing. "Is that all the conversation you had with Handsome?"

"Every bit of it."

"And you have never seen him since?"

"Never. Hold on; he axed me that time if I had ever mentioned the fact of our fust meetin', and I told him I had not. He seemed pleased at that, and he told me never to mention it. I allowed that I didn't see no reason why I should, and he laughed at that and seemed entirely satisfied."

"That is excellent, Bill. Now, we will get at those plans. I don't want to lose any time."

"Would you mind telling me why you axed me all about them two meetings?"

"Not at all. When I go out into the woods in the character of Bill Turner, I am likely at some time to run across Handsome himself. I want to be posted, so that he won't know but what I am you. I don't want him to catch me; see?"

"Yes. But do you suppose you kin fix yourself to look enough like me so's he won't know the difference when he sees you?"