Kitabı oku: «The Banner Boy Scouts Mystery», sayfa 10

CHAPTER XXII

Mr. Grey

Indeed, it was Mr. Grey. He stood there looking at them, smiling, self-confident. By now the chief and Jim Spencer had also jumped to their feet. Everyone was staring speechless at the gaunt man. Jack cried, “Who are you?”

The chief added, “Yes, tell us who you are and what you want.”

Mr. Grey walked over to the desk. Pausing for a moment to eye the secretary, she blushed and left the room. When the door was closed, he took a badge out of his pocket and showed it to the chief.

“Oh!” exclaimed the chief. “I’m glad to meet you.”

“Who is he, Chief Bates?” demanded Jack.

“A government man,” was the snappy retort.

“Then why did we find him among the gang?” demanded Jack. “Anyone can get himself a badge. Let him really identify himself.”

They all eyed Mr. Grey. Paul and Ken felt horrified by Jack’s demand but they felt that he was right, reasonable. Wasn’t it possible for him to pass off as a government man and yet be in reality a member of the gang? Mr. Grey said smilingly, “That boy will some day make a very good sleuth.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” retorted Jack. “I’m going to study to be a doctor.”

That set everybody to laughing. Addressing Chief Bates, Mr. Grey asked, “What have the boys been telling you?”

This time Paul was on his feet. He felt that Jack was correct in his demand that the man identify himself further. And the fact that the man was trying to evade it, aroused his own suspicions. “Why don’t you identify yourself?” he demanded. “How do we know who you are? For all we know, you may be a member of the gang, as we have thought right along, and only pretending that you are a government man.”

Mr. Grey raised his eyebrows but did not lose any of his equanimity. He smiled and seemed perfectly at ease. The chief remarked humorously, “It seems that this thing has passed completely out of my hands. So you two had better settle the issue.”

Mr. Grey said, “These boys are all right. No. As a matter of fact, they are better than that. They are shrewd, fine detectives. You ought to acquire them for your force, Chief.”

He took his coat off and ripped the seam open. Producing several papers, he handed them to Chief Bates, who looked them over carefully. Then Mr. Grey rolled up the sleeve of his right arm and revealed a red gash of about two inches long. The chief was convinced. “Good!” he exclaimed. Addressing the boys, he said, “He has identified himself beyond any doubt.”

The boys were satisfied. Jack said, “All right, now we know. But do you mind, Mr. er—”

“Mr. Grey.”

“Do you mind Mr. Grey, telling us the mystery of the white cards, your being with the grocery man who is a member of the gang and—”

“When the time comes, my boy,” he answered, “you will know everything. In the meanwhile, may I repeat my former question. What have the boys been telling you?”

Chief Bates cleared his throat. With a twinkle in his eye, he remarked, “They have been giving me a cock and bull story about a gang of counterfeiters.”

“Well, it just happens to be true,” announced Mr. Grey.

For a short while there was silence, as though they were all overcome by the government man’s statement. “Is it the Moonshine Charlie gang?” asked Jim Spencer.

“That’s right,” answered Mr. Grey. “And I’m here to ask you for ten men to round up the gang.”

“Right away?” asked Chief Bates.

“Right away.”

“Jim,” said the chief, addressing his detective, “round up ten men and get them ready. What else, Mr. Grey?”

“Nothing else,” he answered. “That is, for the present.” Addressing the boys, he said, “Well, fellows, how do you think we ought to go about it? But before we discuss that, may I know who you are?”

Paul rose. “My name is Paul—Paul Morrison. And I’m glad to know you, Mr. Grey.”

“Thank you. You fellows have done some very good work.”

“And this is Jack Stormways,” introduced Paul.

The two shook hands. Jack remarked, “I’m not going to say I’m glad to know you, but rather glad to meet you. After having followed you so much, I think I know you by now.”

Mr. Grey smiled. “Yes,” said Mr. Grey, “you have followed me around a great deal and rather expertly, too.”

“Thank you,” said Jack, grinning with pleasure.

“And this is Ken Armstrong.”

The two shook hands. “Now,” said Mr. Grey, “how are we going to finish the job and capture the gang? What’s your idea, fellows?”

Paul said, “I guess you ought to know that better than any of us. We will leave that to you.”

“Just one favor,” exclaimed Jack.

“What?”

“May we go along? I’d like to be in on it.”

Mr. Grey and the chief exchanged glances. The chief shook his head. “It’s going to be dangerous,” remarked Mr. Grey.

“Any more dangerous than what we have already done?” asked Jack.

“There may be shooting. And you might get hurt.”

“I guess we could keep out of the way. We might keep in the background.”

“Well,” conceded Mr. Grey, “if the chief has no objections, I’ll get you into action somehow.” The chief shrugged his shoulders. “After all,” he commented, “who am I to deny them their fun?”

“That’s swell,” cried Jack.

Just then, Detective Spencer returned to the office and announced that everything was ready. “I’ll tell you what you can do first, boys. Suppose Paul and Ken and two officers go down to the grocery store at Jones Street and arrest Harriman, the grocery man. If he isn’t in the store, he is upstairs, in the first room on your right.”

“And what am I going to do?” asked Jack.

“You will come with me,” said the government man.

The boys rose. “Are we all ready?” asked the chief. “Because I’m also going along.”

“If you will excuse me,” said Mr. Grey, “I don’t think you should.”

“All right. If you insist.”

“For best interest all around.”

The chief nodded. Addressing the boys, he said, “Well, fellows, it seems that you were right and I want to apologize for questioning you and doubting you. And let me tell you that I appreciate everything you have done and I shall see to it that you are in some small way rewarded.”

The boys beamed with delight. Mr. Grey remarked, “They certainly deserve it, Chief. You ought to make them honorary members of your force.”

“Now, that’s a serious thing,” answered Chief Bates hesitantly. “But I shall certainly consider it.”

“Well, goodbye,” said Ken. “Thanks for listening to our story.”

“The thanks is all on my side,” returned the Chief. “And good luck.”

They left the office. In the waiting room, Mr. Grey whispered something in the secretary’s ear and she blushed and waved him away. In the corridor, they walked to the rear of the building, where autos and policemen, armed, waited for them. Mr. Grey gave the necessary orders, and with screaming sirens, they were off.

CHAPTER XXIII

Paul Helps Out

Paul and Ken had entered a large automobile with three detectives. One was driving, while the other two talked to the boys. The other cars went west to drive, at the direction of Mr. Grey, a roundabout way. The single auto drove along Main Street. The driver did not use his siren, preferring to proceed quietly and arouse no curiosity. Detective Walters, who was in charge of the detail asked Paul, “You know this fellow Harriman, the grocery store keeper, don’t you? You could easily identify him, couldn’t you?”

“Oh, yes, very easily.”

“Fine, then you and I will enter the store and pick him up. As for you boys,” meaning his fellow policemen, “one of you will cover the front of the house, and the other, the rear of the house. As for you, young fellow,” and he addressed Ken, “you know how to drive a car, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. I drive my dad’s car all the time.”

“That’s fine. You stay in the car. Get behind the wheel and if there is any chasing to do, you will drive the car. Everybody now knows what he is to do?” he asked, looking from one man to the other.

“Yes,” was the answer of all of them.

The boys felt excited. They liked the way Walters treated them. They felt as though they were members of the force with certain jobs assigned to them. They looked forward to doing as well as they could.

The next moment the car came to a halt at the corner across from the grocery store. Paul immediately jumped out of the car with the detectives and Ken at once took his place behind the steering wheel. The detectives carried no rifles as they did not wish to arouse suspicion. They were merely armed with their service revolvers which they held ready in their coat pockets.

Walters waited for his mates to take their places and then he nodded to each one of them in turn. To Paul, he whispered hurriedly, “In case of trouble, take shelter right away; get out of the way of the line of fire. You understand?”

“Yes, sir,” was his meek reply.

Paul felt a wave of excitement. He felt a little anxious and hoped everything would pass off quietly without anyone coming to harm.

Walters, with Paul at his side, started to cross the street toward the grocery store. They mounted the sidewalk and approached the door. Suddenly a shot rang out, fired, so it seemed to Paul, point blank at them. Immediately Walters, with his left hand, shoved Paul to one side and sent him sprawling. As for himself, he dodged behind the wall. Evidently, the grocery man had seen them coming and had realized who they were and what they were up to. And it further seemed that he did not intend to give up without a violent struggle. Walters shouted, “Come on out or we are coming in to get you.”

For an answer another shot rang out. Harriman meant business and no fooling. Walters signalled to his fellow detectives covering the front of the house and the man crawled across the street to the car at the curb. “Duck,” he said to Ken.

Ken complied and lowered himself in the car. The detective took out two rifles, a couple of boxes of ammunition which he shoved into his pocket and a square box. With this load he crept back into position. Suddenly Walters ran across the front of the store and joined him. The next instant a shot rang out. But it was too late. Walters was safe and sheltered by lying flat on the ground behind the curb. “Come on out,” he called for a second time, “or we’ll give you the works.”

Again the answer was a shot. Walters picked up a small stone lying nearby, and, without raising himself, threw it and shattered the window. Several shots rang out and Walters and his mate returned the fire just to impress the gangster.

In the meanwhile, the detective who covered the rear of the house, had also run back of the car, got himself a rifle, a box of cartridges and a square box similar to the one taken by his fellow detective. In an instant he returned to his position.

Walters shouted, “Harriman, if you don’t come out willingly, you’ll be carried out.”

No answer. For several tense moments there was silence. A number of people had collected on the opposite sidewalk and Ken waved to them to get out of the way. The next moment he tore open the square box and took out what looked like a baseball and threw it into the store through the broken window. There was an explosion and a cloud of smoke rose. An instant later, two women burst through the door; they were coughing frantically and rubbing their eyes. One of the women was the wife of the grocery man, the other a customer who by chance had happened to be in the store at the moment. Walters shouted to them, “This way. Come here.”

The other detective took the two women and led them to the automobile. “Stay here,” he told them.

Taking out his revolver, he gave it to Ken and said, “Now be careful. Keep the women here and don’t let them get away. You understand?”

Ken gripped the weapon and nodded, “Yes, sir.”

The detective then stole back to his position. But just then, a cry arose from the rear of the house. Harriman appeared at the back of the house and was surprised by the detective who now shouted to Walters the news. Walters left his mate to cover the front and ran to the empty lot adjoining the corner house. Harriman, in an effort to escape the tear gas inside the store, rushed out of the rear door and took a position behind a cluster of bricks that seemed to form a very natural fortress. He was cornered, but it seemed that he refused to surrender without a violent struggle. It also seemed that he was very well armed, having two revolvers and plenty of ammunition.

Shots continued to ring out in an exchange of fire. Walters looked around for a way of getting at the gangster’s rear. There was only one way and that was through the house. But immediately Walters realized that to move out of his shelter behind a tree would take him into the open and make of him a very simple target. It occurred to him that he was now just as well cornered as his prey and that the only alternative was to shoot it out, unless of course the detective left to guard the front of the house took the initiative and got at Harriman’s rear.

Now let us see what happened to Paul in the meanwhile. When Walters pushed him and sent him sprawling, he was on the side of the house facing Main Street. He wondered what he could do. His investigation several days before had revealed to him the door at the rear of the house. But he thought that the grocery man, realizing the odds against him, would certainly surrender. He had no idea that Harriman would be so stubborn and defy the policemen. But he did. And the more Paul waited for the gangster to surrender, the more he realized that the grocery store keeper was bent on violence. After the barrage of tear gas and the cry announcing the gangster at the rear of the house, he lifted himself slightly off the ground and made sure of the exact spot where Harriman had barricaded himself.

Thinking quickly, he rushed to the corner and waved to the detective, hoping that the man would understand what he was up to. The next moment he rushed into the hall of the house where the stairs were leading upstairs. He figured that there must be a door leading from the hall into the store. But he didn’t want to get into the store. And he tried to think how Harriman had escaped from the store to the rear of the house. He looked around. There was only one door at the end of the hall. Approaching noiselessly, he pulled the door open. To his complete amazement, he was directly behind the gangster who was absorbed by the fire of the detectives. Without hesitating or giving Harriman a chance to realize his danger, Paul let out a most horrible shriek and threw himself on the gangster. Harriman looked up, his face pale and frightened. He turned to fire at Paul, but it was too late. The boy was already on top of him and pinning his arms.

Harriman was a bulky, strong individual. With Paul on top of him, he rose and was on the point of whirling his assailant off. But by this time the two detectives were also on top of him and pinned his arms. Paul slipped off the gangster’s back. In an instant Walters slapped handcuffs on the gangster. Turning to Paul, he cried, “You fool!”

Paul smiled and appeared quite calm and confident. Walters slapped him on the back and together they escorted the criminal to the automobile, while the other detective began to pick up Harriman’s guns and ammunition.

CHAPTER XXIV

Battle

Siren screaming, Ken drove the car down Main Street and to police headquarters. Chief Bates met them and congratulated them on their capture. “Any trouble, boys?” he asked.

Walters smiled and said, “It seems, Chief, that we couldn’t get along without these youngsters.” He pointed to Paul, and asked, “Do you know what he did, this kid?”

The chief shook his head and asked, “What did he do? Get into trouble again or something?”

“Well, if it wasn’t for him,” was the answer, “we would still be there pegging away at each other. That kid up and jumped the gangster. All we had to do was to take him into custody.”

The chief laughed uproariously. “Some detectives you are!” he exclaimed. “Letting a kid do your work!”

“I tell you, Chief, there is no getting away with it—these kids are the tops,” said Walters, slapping Paul on the back.

“But seriously, though,” remarked the chief, “I don’t want you fellows to get into any trouble. Do you hear me?” he demanded, pretending he was being tough on them. “You have done enough and I want you to keep out of harm.”

Paul smiled. “All right, Chief,” he said. “Did you hear from the others?”

“No, I didn’t,” he answered. Addressing his detectives, he said, “You boys better run down there and give them a hand if they need it.”

“May we go along?” asked Ken.

“All right. I guess these detectives of mine wouldn’t be able to find the place or know what to do without you.” They all laughed heartily. “But don’t get into more trouble, do you hear me, you two?”

The three detectives and Paul and Ken got into the car and rode off. At their destination, they came upon a pitched battle. It seemed that the gang was a tough bunch and ready to battle the law rather than surrender in spite of the heavy odds against them.

At the corner of York Street, when the police cars arrived, they stopped and Mr. Grey had issued instructions. Four of the detectives he instructed to take up varying positions across the street from the house which led to the secret door. Accompanied by three more policemen and Jack, he went to 752 York Street. The detectives he told to deploy around the house and Jack he warned to keep out of the way. On second thought, he turned to Jack and said, “You go back there and watch those automobiles.”

Reluctantly, Jack went to obey and sat himself in the second car. He wanted to be in on the action, but he realized why the government agent wanted him out of the way.

The detectives were armed with rifles and sub-machine guns. Mr. Grey looked around to see if all his men were in position. He gave the signal for all of them to be on the alert. Gripping his revolver, he entered the empty house and left the door open. Noiselessly, he opened the trap door and descended the stairs. The cellar was lit up and that told him that the gangsters were there. As far as he knew, Joe and Pete were surely there, but he didn’t know whether Moonshine Charlie himself was there. He paused to listen, and only the voices of the two reached him. For several seconds he debated with himself whether to wait until the arrival of the boss. On the other hand, he thought, he might seize the two and then let Moonshine Charlie walk into a trap.

Descending noiselessly, he came to the bottom of the stairs. The two gangsters were at the table, Pete with his right side toward Mr. Grey and Joe having his back toward the agent. Mr. Grey levelled his gun and muttered threateningly, “Put your hands up, boys. Quick. Reach for the ceiling and no monkey business.”

The two gangsters jumped to their feet and put their hands up above their heads. Pete cried, “What the—What’s all this about?”

“You’ll find out right away,” was the answer. Mr. Grey saw them edging toward the back of the table and he warned them, “Don’t you move or I’ll plug you.”

But the next instant Pete turned over the table with his leg and the two gangsters threw themselves behind it. Mr. Grey fired, the bullet burying itself in the wooden table. Pete fired back and the government agent threw himself on the floor and crept behind the stairs for protection. “The house is surrounded,” he told them. “You had better surrender if you want to get out alive.”

Pete tossed back, “Like hell!”

He fired and Mr. Grey returned. Pulling the table along, they moved gradually back toward the secret door. The government agent realized that their escape through the tunnel into the next house was safe and sure; there was nothing he could do about it. So he let them work their way gradually back. Joe raised his arms to pull open the door and the next moment he grabbed it away, letting out a yell. Mr. Grey had fired and the bullet had pierced the gangster’s hand. But the door was now ajar, and in a moment they pulled it open and escaped.

Mr. Grey ran forward and whatever he could find, he piled up against the door, shutting off their return into the cellar. The gangsters were now trapped in the second house. The government man ran up the stairs, and cautiously emerged from the house, to make sure his own men did not fire on him. Coming out into the open, he directed his men to close up on the house.

In the meanwhile, the gangsters, realizing that their escape was cut off at both ends, set up sub-machine guns at both ends of the house and began to rake every inch of ground within sight. The detectives got busy. Several of them used their own sub-machine guns. Others, picking up stones wherever they found them, managed to break every window in the house.

The detectives ripped open the square boxes and began to throw tear gas into the house through the open windows. Several of the bombs fell short of the house, and pretty soon the whole house was enveloped in thick clouds of smoke. There was no wind and the smoke hung in the air in and around the house. Within five minutes, both gangsters stumbled out of the doorway, coughing hard and trying hard to keep their hands above their heads.

Several of the detectives immediately ran forward and grabbed them, at the same time dragging them away from the clouds of tear gas. They were immediately surrounded and handcuffed. Just then a siren screamed and everyone turned to see what was happening.

Jack was sitting in the car and watched the battle. He was glad now that he was at a safe distance. It was too bloody an affair for him. After a while, he leaned back in the seat and paid no attention to what was going on. He waited for the finish and for the detectives to return. He heard the crackling of rifle fire and the explosion of bombs.

Resting in the back seat of the automobile he only hoped that no one would be hit and that all would turn out well. Why couldn’t the gangsters give up, he thought to himself. Couldn’t they see that the odds were against them? And even if they should escape this time, which was impossible, they would still be hunted and caught by the police of some other town or city.

Jack leaned forward and peeked out of the window. He caught his breath and became tense. There was a man across the street who looked very familiar and appeared to be exceedingly interested in the battle that was going on between the criminals and the police. The man, tall, fat, husky, stood in front of a roadster that evidently belonged to him. “Moonshine Charlie,” Jack thought to himself.

Yet he had not heard the man drive up. It was because he was absorbed in his own thoughts. Now what am I to do? What can I do? These questions came to Jack’s mind, yet he found no answer. It was no use to call one of the detectives; the gangster might disappear in the meanwhile. What could he do?

Jack became conscious of the fact that the firing had ceased. He saw the fat man get into his car and drive off, turning into the next corner. Jack jumped to the wheel, set off the siren screaming and was immediately chasing the gangster.