Kitabı oku: «The Missing Tin Box: or, The Stolen Railroad Bonds», sayfa 6

CHAPTER XVI.
HAL ON THE WATCH

"Let up there, you brute!"

Dick Ferris looked around with a startled air.

When he caught sight of Hal his face fell, and he released the girl.

"What, you!" he exclaimed.

"Exactly. What do you mean by treating this girl so rudely?"

"You are following me," went on Ferris, ignoring the question which had been put to him.

"What if I am?"

"You think you're smart, don't you?" sneered Ferris.

"He's a mean, ugly thing!" put in the girl, between her sobs. "I wish he was arrested."

"Shut up!" roared Ferris, turning to her. "You ran into me on purpose."

"I didn't. We've got a right to coast in this alley; mamma said so."

"You ought to be arrested for striking the little girl," said Hal. "I am awfully glad I arrived in the nick of time to save her from more punishment."

"Good fer you, mister!" cried a small youth standing near. "Give him one in der eye!"

"Yes, do him up, mister," cried several others.

Ferris turned upon them like a savage animal.

"Get out of here, every one of you," he howled, "unless you want to be hammered to death."

"Don't you move," said Hal. "You evidently have more right here than he has."

"Indeed!" said Ferris, turning to Hal. "I wish you would keep your nose out of my affairs."

"Don't let him sass you, mister," put in one of the urchins. "He didn't have no cause ter hit Katie."

Ferris pounced upon the boy at once, and cuffed him right and left. In the midst of the castication, however, Hal caught the bully by the arm, and a second later Dick Ferris measured his length in the gutter.

A shout went up from the boys and girls.

"Dat's der way ter do it!"

"Ain't der gent got muckle, dough?"

Then somebody threw a snow-ball, and in a trice the entire crowd were snow-balling Ferris as furiously as they could.

Hal looked on, and he was compelled to laugh. Then a sudden idea struck him. Like a flash he darted out of sight behind the pile of empty boxes and barrels.

Muttering something under his breath, Dick Ferris struggled to his feet. As soon as he did this the street children took to their legs, dragging their sleds after them. Ferris made after one or two of them, but was unable to effect a capture.

"Run off wid yerself!"

"We ain't got no use fer bullies!"

Spat!

A snow-ball took Ferris right in the ear, and caused him to utter a sharp cry of pain.

Then another took him in the face, and in trying to dodge he slipped and went into a snow-drift.

He was quickly on his feet, and this time ran after the crowd so fast that he caught one of the boys.

"Lemme go!" howled the youngster.

"Not much, you rat! Take that!"

Ferris struck the boy in the mouth, and the little fellow let out a yell.

Hal was just about to dart to his assistance when a policeman came along and touched Ferris on the shoulder.

"What's the trouble here?" he demanded.

Ferris turned savagely, but his manner changed when he beheld the officer of the law.

"This chap is a rascal," he explained.

"In what way?"

"He fired a snow-ball at me and hit me in the ear."

"I didn't," howled the urchin. "It was anudder fellow wot fired dat snow-ball."

And he began to cry bitterly.

"It was only done in fun, I suppose," said the officer.

"Fun!" fumed Ferris. "Look at my clothes!"

The officer did so. Ferris was covered with snow and dirt, principally the latter.

"The snow-ball couldn't have done that," said the policeman.

He was in sympathy with the small boy, whom he knew as the son of one of his friends.

"I know. But this boy and a lot of his chums got to throwing at me, and in trying to dodge I went down."

The policeman paused for a moment, and then turned to the urchin.

"See here, bubby, if I let you go will you promise not to throw any more snow-balls?"

"Yes, sir," came in one breath, and very eagerly.

"Then run."

"What! ain't you going to arrest him?" cried Dick Ferris, in some excitement.

"I think not."

"But he ought to be."

"I fancy I know my own business best," was the short reply.

"But he is a little imp, and – "

"Better let it go. I dare say you throw snow-balls yourself once in a while."

And with this remark the policeman moved on.

"Well, that's a fine way to treat a fellow," muttered Ferris to himself. "I suppose that policeman would let the whole ward pounce on me without doing anything toward helping me. I wonder where that Hal Carson is?"

The tall youth brushed off his clothing hastily, and returned to the entrance to the alley. He looked around carefully, but Hal kept well hidden.

Dick Ferris was undecided what to do. Should he deliver the letter intrusted to him by Hardwick? He hesitated and then continued up the alley-way, upon which a number of dirty, dingy tenement houses were situated.

Arriving at the very last of these, he ascended the front stoop and knocked loudly upon the door. There was no reply, and while he was waiting for some one to answer his summons, Hal managed to skulk up behind the other buildings and approach within hearing distance.

At last Ferris got tired of waiting, and he tried the door. It was unlocked, and, pushing it open, the tall boy entered.

Hal waited for a moment, and then, mounting the stoop, peered in at the door, which Ferris had left partly open.

As the youth had surmised, the hall-way was quite dark. He heard Ferris mounting the rickety stairs, and like a shadow he followed, fairly holding his breath, lest some sound might betray his presence.

Ferris mounted almost to the top of the tenement, and then hammered on a door in the rear.

"Come!" cried a voice from inside, and Ferris entered.

No sooner was the door closed than Hal approached it and applied his eye to the key-hole. He saw a small apartment, scantily furnished with a small cook-stove, a table, three chairs, and some kitchen utensils.

A man sat before the stove, smoking a short briar pipe. He was unshaved, but his face bore evidence of former gentility and manhood, in spite of the fact that it was now dissipated.

"Hullo, Ferris!" he exclaimed.

"How are you, Macklin?" returned the tall boy.

"Not very well, I can tell you," returned Macklin, removing his pipe and spitting into the stove. "I've got rheumatism, yer know."

"Rheumatism!" laughed Ferris. "More likely it's rumatism, Tommy."

"Don't give me any o' yer jokes, Ferris. Wot brings yer?"

"I've got a letter for you."

"From Hardwick?"

Ferris nodded.

"I thought I would hear from him before long. Hand it over."

Ferris did so. Macklin tore open the epistle and began to peruse it hastily. As he did so Ferris tried to glance over his shoulder.

"Here! none o' dat!" cried Macklin, savagely. "Wot's my business is my business."

He finished reading the letter and put it in his coat pocket. Then he pulled away on his pipe for a moment.

"Well?" said Ferris, by way of inquiry.

"Tell him it's all right if he doubles the figger."

"Makes the amount twice as large?"

"Dat's it. It's a ticklish piece o' business."

"What is the work, Macklin?" questioned Ferris, sitting down on the opposite side of the stove.

The man closed one eye.

"Hardwick knows," he replied, shortly.

"I know that," replied Ferris. "And I know something about this new deal, too."

"Wot do yer know?"

"Never mind. I know."

"Dat's all put on, Ferris; yer don't know a t'ing, see?" cried Macklin, with a laugh that sounded more like a croak.

Dick Ferris colored slightly.

"Hardwick said there was something new on," he explained, lamely.

"Yes, but he didn't tell yer wot it was."

Ferris arose, thinking that further attempts at pumping would be useless.

"Say, don't be in no hurry," went on Macklin. "Sit down an' git warmed up."

"I ain't cold."

Ferris started for the door, but the man pulled him back.

"How did yer make out wid Hardwick on dat last deal?" he asked.

"All right," responded the tall boy, hurriedly.

"Wot do you call all right?"

"That's my affair, Tommy."

"Don't git on yer high horse, Ferris."

"I can keep as mum as you can, Tommy, and don't you forget it."

"Did he give you more dan a hundred?"

"Is that what you got out of it?"

"Naw! I didn't git half o' dat."

"Hardwick is a close one."

"Dat's so. But some day he'll have ter pony up, yer see if he don't."

"I suppose it will be you who will squeeze him," said Ferris, with another laugh.

"You bet."

"He ought to be squeezed a little," said Ferris, reflectively. "He makes a small fortune alongside of what we get out of it."

"Yes, but der trouble is, yer can't corner him," responded Macklin. "If yer try, yer git yerself in trouble. But before long – " he did not finish in words, but bobbed his head vigorously.

"Where's your wife?" asked Ferris, glancing around.

"Der old woman's gone to der market."

"Ain't any one else here, is there?"

Ferris glanced around suspiciously. "No."

"Then supposing we come to an understanding?" went on Ferris, in a low tone. "We both do work for Hardwick, and we ought to get more money for it."

"Well?"

"Unless we get together we can't do anything. But when he finds we are both of a mind he may listen to us, and both of us will make by it."

Hal listened to every word of this conversation with deep interest. From it he discovered that Macklin was a tool of Hardwick as well as Ferris and both were in the habit of doing underhand work for the ex-book-keeper.

"If either of them would only mention something definite," he thought. "The tin box robbery for instance. Then I would be certain I was on the right track."

"That's an idea, Ferris," replied Macklin. "It ain't fair fer Hardwick ter be rollin' in money an' me livin' here."

"That's it."

"I uster be jest as fine a liver as him, Ferris, in the flush days. An' when old Sumner took Hardwick in an' bounced me – "

Macklin did not finish. There was a racket in the hall-way, and then came the tones of an excited Irishwoman.

"Phot's this? Phot be yez doin' here, young mon, sn'akin' along like a thafe? Tommy Macklin, cum here!"

CHAPTER XVII.
NEAR TO DEATH

The Irishwoman had come up behind Hal so softly – she wore rubbers – that the youth did not hear her, and he was, therefore, thoroughly startled when she made the exclamation quoted at the end of the preceding chapter.

Ferris and Macklin jumped to their feet and both rushed out in the hall.

"What's the row, Mary?" cried the latter.

"Sure an' that's phot Oi want to know," replied the woman. "Oi found this fellow pakin' in the kay-hole of your dure, so Oi did."

"It's Hal Carson!" exclaimed Ferris. "So this is the way you followed me, eh?" he continued.

"Who is Hal Carson?" asked Macklin, grasping the youth by the arm.

"Old Sumner's new clerk and office boy," replied Ferris. "Don't let him get away."

Macklin gave a whistle.

"Dat's kinder serious, if he follered yer here. Wot have yer got ter say fer yerself?" he demanded, turning to Hal.

"Let go of my arm," returned Hal. "Are you the only one who lives in this building?"

"No."

"Then I presume I have a right to enter the hall-way, haven't I?"

"That won't wash, Carson!" exclaimed Ferris. "You are doing nothing but following me, and you know it."

"Just you step inside, do you hear?" commanded Macklin. "That's all right, Mary, I'll take care o' him," he added to the woman.

"Oi wondher if he was up in me apartment," she said, suspiciously. "Oi'll go up an' see if there is anything missing."

The woman departed, and Macklin tried to shove Hal into the room.

"Stop that!" ordered the youth.

"Don't pay no attention to him," cried Ferris. "He's a regular spy, and he's trying his best to get us all into trouble."

Macklin caught Hal by the arm. The next instant Hal received a terrible blow behind the right ear that almost stunned him.

"Now I think yer will come in an' mind," howled Macklin. "Take hold o' him, Ferris."

The tall boy came out, and before Hal could recover he was dragged into the apartment and the door was closed and locked.

When he came to realize what had happened he found himself confronted by the angry pair.

"That's what you get for spying on us," said Ferris.

"Tain't no healthy business fer a feller ter be in around here," added Macklin, with a coarse laugh.

"I want you to open the door," returned Hal, as calmly as he could.

"That's right!" laughed Ferris. "I suppose you think you can command us to do anything, don't you?"

Hal walked toward the door and shook it. It was strongly built, and to break it down was out of the question.

"Give me the key," he said.

Another laugh followed this speech.

Hal glanced out of the window. It was tightly closed, and the distance to the court below was fully twenty feet.

The youth looked at Macklin, who had resumed his smoking.

"What do you propose to do with me?" he asked.

"That is hard ter tell," replied the tough. "It all depends on wot Ferris is got ter say."

"You have the key of the door?"

"I kinder think it's in my pocket."

"Give it to me."

Macklin chuckled.

"Don't waste yer breath; yer may need it."

He had hardly spoken when Hal sprang upon him. The youth was thoroughly aroused, and a well directed blow sent Macklin sprawling in one corner, while his pipe went flying in another.

The tough uttered a howl as he went down, and Ferris gave a cry of consternation.

"Now will you give me the key?" demanded Hal.

"Git orf of me!" spluttered Macklin.

"Let up there," put in Ferris.

"Stand back, Ferris," cried Hal. "I am not to be trifled with."

"Pull him orf!" roared Macklin.

Ferris advanced, but rather gingerly.

He knew Hal's strength, and he had a great horror of being struck.

Macklin tried to rise, but Hal hit once more and he went down a second time. Then Hal sat down on his body.

"Hand over the key."

Hal had an idea the key was in Macklin's outer pocket, and into this he inserted his hand.

It soon came in contact with what he was searching for. He tried to withdraw the key, but now Macklin began to squirm worse than ever, and he had hard work to master the fellow.

"Help me, Ferris!" howled the tough.

"Don't you dare come near," said Hal.

"Don't mind him – help me," said Macklin again.

Ferris hesitated, but at last approached and caught Hal by the arm.

"Let Macklin up," he said.

Instead of replying Hal sprang to his feet. In one hand he held the key, and with the other he shoved Ferris up against the wall.

"Now let me pass!"

"Don't do it!" howled Macklin.

"I won't," replied Ferris.

He caught Hal by the coat tail. This compelled the youth to turn once more. He aimed a blow at Ferris' head, and the fellow went down over the table.

Hal now thought he saw his way clear to escape. He bounded toward the door, and was just inserting the key into the lock when Macklin sprang up.

Beside the stove lay a heavy billet of wood, which the man had intended to split up for kindlings. Macklin caught up the stick, and jumping behind Hal, hit the youth a fearful blow directly on the top of the head.

With a low cry, Hal sank down in a heap. Macklin gave a sudden gasp, and Ferris straightened up.

"Have you – killed him?" asked Ferris in a tone, of horror.

"I don't know," replied the tough. "Dat was a kinder heavy crack, wasn't it?"

Ferris shuddered. A thin stream of blood was issuing from Hal's head, and this made the tall boy sick. He approached and gazed at Hal's pallid face and motionless form.

"I'm afraid you have killed him, Macklin," he said.

"Me killed him?" cried the tough. "I kinder think you had as much ter do wid it as me."

Ferris had a sudden chill dart down his back-bone at these words. If anything was wrong it was certain Macklin did not intend to shoulder the blame.

"What made you hit him so hard?" he asked.

"I couldn't help it. Let's see how bad he is."

Macklin approached Hal and turned over the limp body. Then he placed his hand over the youth's heart.

"He ain't dead yet. Dat was a hard crack, but he's got a strong constitution, dat feller has. Say?"

"Well?"

Macklin came up close to Dick Ferris, who was now as white as a sheet.

"We is good friends, Ferris, ain't we?"

"Ye-as."

"Den let me do sum'thin' fer yer."

"What is it?"

"I'll tell yer. Yer see der feller ain't – "

Macklin broke off short, as a footstep sounded in the hall-way.

"It's der old woman comin' back," he muttered.

"Your wife?"

"Yes."

"Oh, what shall we do with the – the body?" cried Ferris, in alarm.

As he spoke the door-knob was turned, and then came the tones of a woman's voice:

"Let me in, Tommy!"

CHAPTER XVIII.
HAL IN A TIGHT SITUATION

Before Dick Ferris could say a word or move, Macklin clapped his hand over the tall boy's mouth.

"Hush!" he muttered. "I'll fix it all right."

A square table stood in one corner of the room, and under it was a quantity of old bagging.

Macklin seized hold of Hal's body and dragged it toward the table.

Then he shoved the motionless form under the piece of furniture and covered it with the loose bagging.

The key to the door lay on the floor, and picking it up, Macklin inserted it in the lock and gave it a turn.

In a second the door was opened and a stout and harsh-looking woman appeared.

It was Tommy Macklin's wife.

She was a heavy drinker, but she was not a really bad woman at heart.

Had she been as unscrupulous as Macklin himself, the tough would never have pursued the course he did.

Before the woman could enter the room he met her and cut her short.

"I want you to go upstairs," he said, taking the market basket she carried from her.

She looked surprised.

"What for?"

"There was a sneak-thief around, and I want you to see if Mary lost anything."

"A thief? Did he get – "

"No, I didn't give him the chance."

The woman at once turned and went up the flight of stairs leading to the top floor. She had not seen Ferris, and the tall boy breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to listen to what Macklin had to say.

"We've got a good chance ter git him out o' der way."

"Out of the way?" whispered Ferris.

"Dat's wot I said."

"You don't mean – "

Ferris stopped short.

"Yes, I do. You say he's an enemy ter you an' Hardwick?"

"He is that."

"Den I'd git him outer der way."

Ferris' lip twitched.

"What would you do with him?"

"I'll show yer." Macklin scratched his matted hair. "Give me dat potato bag in der closet."

Ferris hesitated, and then, opening the closet in the corner, brought forth an unusually long potato sack.

Raising up the top part of Hal's body, Macklin slipped the sack over head and shoulders. Then he tied the string of the sack fast around Hal's waist.

The tough opened the door and passed out into the hall way.

No one was in sight. Macklin returned to the room.

"Quick, catch him by der legs," he said to Ferris. "I'll take him by der shoulders, an' we'll have him outer sight in a jiffy."

"Where – where will you take him?" faltered Ferris. His teeth were chattering, and his face was as pale as death.

"I'll show yer. Catch hold."

Macklin's tones were angry ones, and Ferris complied. With the body of Hal between them, the pair passed down one flight of stairs, and then to a narrow stairway in the rear leading to a dirty wash-shed.

"Wait here wid him till I come back," said Macklin, and he darted out of the wash-shed door.

Ferris stood beside Hal's body. Presently he thought he heard a low moan, and he imagined that Hal moved one arm. His teeth chattered worse than ever, and it was all he could do to keep from rushing away.

At length, after what seemed to be an age, but which was really less than five minutes, Macklin reappeared.

"We've got der boss chance!" he exclaimed, in a low tone. "Chuck dat piece of rag carpet over him. Dat's it. Now pick him up ag'in."

Once more the two took up Hal's body. Their course was now through the court and into a narrow lane. Here the snow was piled high, but neither seemed to mind it.

"Here we are."

It was Macklin who spoke. He stood at the basement door of an old stone structure which in years gone by had been a vinegar and pickle factory. Pushing open the door, he motioned to Ferris, and Hal's body was taken inside and the door once more closed.

"Wait till I strike a light," said Macklin.

"What is this place?" asked Ferris.

"It's a factory wot ain't in use," was the reply. "His body won't be found here for two or t'ree months, if da finds it at all."

Macklin struck a match and lit a bit of dirty tallow candle which he carried.

"See dat big hole in der floor over dare?" he asked.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Sum kind of a vat, I t'ink. Dat's der place. Hold der glim, will yer?"

Ferris took the candle. His hand shook so that the tallow dropped all over it.

"Wot's der matter wid yer nerves?" asked Macklin, sarcastically.

"Nothing," returned the tall boy, briefly.

"Yer shakin' like a leaf."

"I am cold."

And for once Ferris told the truth. An icy chill seemed to have struck his heart.

Catching hold of Hal's body, Macklin dragged it to the edge of the vat. There was a slight scraping sound as the body was pushed over the edge of the hole, and then all became quiet.

"Dat settles it," said Macklin. "Come on back."

And Hal was left to his fate.