Chick had committed the folly of not being entirely thorough in the creation of his disguise; so also had Ten-Ichi; and the soap and scrubbing brushes, as employed by Handsome, had done the work of removing it.
But Patsy? Well, it had not been necessary for Patsy to be quite so thorough, for his own particular person and features were sufficient disguise, with a few minor alterations and additions.
For instance, at the risk of not having it wear off soon enough to suit his purposes, he had gone to a professional hair dyer, and had ordered his shock of hair indelibly dyed to a dirty brick-red; and he had put spots on his face, and the back of his hands, with nitrate of silver, so that the spots burned into the skin. No soap and water could remove these. They would only disappear with time; but Patsy had never traveled on a reputation for beauty, and he did not give the matter a thought beyond the immediate necessities.
He had taken another precaution, also, just before he entered the woods to go to the place of meeting. He had stripped himself in a secluded place near the railway tracks, and he had rolled himself in the coaldust around the track, griming the dirt into his body, so that when it came to the time that Handsome stripped him—well, it can be imagined how he looked.
A little snuff rubbed thoroughly against his teeth had rendered them sufficiently discolored, and altogether he so thoroughly looked his part that Handsome, when he stripped him, had not the slightest doubt of his reality.
But the frauds connected with Chick and Ten-Ichi were easily detected.
Black Madge, while still seated at the table with the detective, had suddenly recalled the name that had long ago been mentioned in her presence by the chief of the Paris police. It had come to her in a flash that the name was Nick Carter—and that this man who was so calmly seated in her presence was Nick Carter.
Madge knew a great deal more about Nick Carter than Nick supposed she did; she knew all about his household, and about his assistants. She knew their names as well as if they were followers of her own—and when Handsome, in mentioning the names of the other men, had talked about Tenstrike and the Chicken, she had connected the names at once.
As for the other one—Pat—that had a significance also; but Pat is a very common name, and she did not do herself the honor to suppose that Nick Carter would bring all three of his assistants into the woodswith him in search of her. One, she thought, would have to be left behind to look after the business, and, therefore, she was all the more ready to believe that Patsy, since he was not in disguise, was one of her own kind, who had inadvertently fallen into the company of the detectives.
Handsome and four other men accompanied Chick to the cottage, and when he stood before Madge she looked him over from head to foot with cold scorn.
"So," she said venomously, "you thought to deceive me, did you—you and your master?"
Chick made no reply, and, after a moment, she went on:
"We have a way of ridding ourselves of such men as you are, when they come among us. It is not pleasant for them, but it serves as a lesson to others. Step inside the house. Take him inside, Handsome. Let the others wait out here, and if there is the slightest sound of a row inside the house let them enter it at once."
When the three were in the room together, she said to Chick:
"You observe that I know who you are?"
Chick nodded—and he also smiled.
She stamped her foot upon the floor under her, and continued:
"Down there, beneath us, unconscious and chained to the wall, is Nick Carter. Even Handsome did notknow that till now. He did not know that Dago John, who went with him last night to rob the bank, was no other than Nick Carter. But it is true, Handsome."
"Gee!" breathed Handsome, his fingers twitching.
"He is all right now, Handsome. He cannot hurt you. I have put him out of business—and I don't think we had better let the men know that Nick Carter has been among them. Let them wreak their vengeance upon this fellow, and upon the other—that little Jap. As for Nick Carter himself, I will take care of him. He will never come out of that cellar alive. And now, Chick, I want you to answer me a question."
"You will save your breath if you do not ask it," replied Chick. "I am not answering questions just at present."
"Not to save yourself, or your master?"
"I know very well that nothing that I can say will have the least effect upon my fate, or upon Nick Carter's," he replied.
"Very good," she replied slowly; and then to Handsome: "Take him away, Handsome. Take him out there to the men. Tell them who he is, and that they may do as they please with him. I think the quicksand bog would be as good a place as any for him; or the fire tree; but they may do as they please—so long as they kill him. Take him away."
Chick, realizing that it was all up with him, and that he might as well make a fight for it, leaped forward quickly, full at the woman, intending to seize upon her, and hold her as a shield; but even as he attempted to do so, the floor beneath him sank under him for the depth of two feet, and before he could recover his balance, Madge had thrown a table cover over his head, and in another moment Handsome had thrown him to the floor, and called the others to his assistance.
And so Chick was tightly bound and borne away a captive—to what fate he could only imagine.
"You need not bring the Jap here at all," Madge called after them. "Let my hoboes take him with them, along with this one; but do you bring the man Pat to me at once."
And five minutes later Handsome reappeared with Patsy in tow, only that Patsy was not a prisoner—as yet.
"Now, my man," said Madge coldly, "you will have to give a pretty straight account of yourself. You were found in bad company."
"Sure, ma'am, don't I know the same? I've been apologizing to meself ever since I discovered it, an' if Handsome here had only left me alone, faith, I'd have settled wan part of me misgivings then and there, so I would. I had me doubts about the bunch from the beginning, ma'am, when they came a-sneakin' upto me fire, and eatin' of me grub; and when that other gazabo dropped from the trees, sure, I was certain of it. I was after kapin' me eyes peeled all the time since then, your worship, but I thought it wasn't f'r the likes of me to be after makin' suggestions to y'r majesty, at all, at all."
"Who are you, and what are you, Pat?" she asked, smiling upon him.
"Sure, ma'am, it's nobody I am. I've never done anything worse than pick a pocket untel a short time ago, when I had the misfortune to get mixed up in a bit av a scrap—and the other feller didn't have the common dacency to get on his feet ag'in when it was over. He jest stayed there, so he did, and thinkin' that somebody would be axin' questions of me, I lit out. Ye wouldn't know a thing more about me if I should talk for a week—but, sure, if there's a question ye'd like to ax me, I'll be afther answerin' it to the best of me ability, so I will."
"What brought you to me?"
"Me legs—no less; begging y'r pardon for mentionin' it. They weren't purty to look at when Handsome stripped me—but we needn't mention that, aither."
"But you came here in search of Hobo Harry."
"I did. That same."
"Who sent you here to find him?"
"Nobody. I had to go somewhere. I had beenreadin' the papers, and I had seen a lot about Hobo Harry in 'em. All of the papers said that he was to be found around here somewhere, and that the divil himself couldn't catch him; and I says to mesilf, says I, sure that's the broth av a boy ye want to find, Pat—and here I am, ma'am."
"Did you ever hear of Nick Carter?"
"I have that."
"Ever see him?"
"I did that."
"Would you know him, do you think, if you should see him again?"
"I would that. It isn't three weeks since I saw him wid these two eyes as plain as I see y'r own beautiful face this minit. Sure, I'd know him."
"Come this way, then."
She went into the adjoining room, and they followed. There she pulled aside the rug again, and, having raised the trapdoor, descended, Patsy and Handsome following close behind her.
The narrow steps took them into a spacious cellar, and, having passed through a partition by opening a heavy oaken door, they entered what appeared to be a prison room.
Nick Carter was there. He had recovered consciousness, and was seated on a low stool against the wall. His arms were stretched wide apart, and each was held in position by an iron chain on either sideof him. A ring of these chains had been passed around each wrist, and locked there, and the chains were fastened to the stone walls by staples.
Madge stopped directly in front of the detective, and glared at him, while he returned her fierce look with a half smile—for he had entirely recovered from the effects of the dose she had administered.
She raised her arm and pointed toward the detective, but before she could utter a word, Patsy cried out:
"That's him! That's him! Sure, ma'am, I'd know him among a thousand! He's got stain on his skin; I can see that; and he is disguised in other ways, ma'am, I can see that, too; but it's him. I'd take me oath to it, so I would."
Madge smiled, and softly rubbed her hands together.
"Carter," she said coldly, "do you know this man who recognizes you?"
Nick shrugged his shoulders in disdain, for he understood perfectly well that Patsy had some well-defined plan in his head for doing as he did; and he replied:
"I suppose he is somebody whom I have arrested at some time. It is only the worst criminals, like yourself, Madge, that I take the trouble to remember."
She turned away with a toss of her head.
"Come!" she ordered; and they followed her fromthe cellar room, and up the narrow stairs again, where she reclosed the trap.
"Go back, Pat, and take your place among the others," she ordered him then. "You will be watched for a long time, and at the first break you make you will be knifed, or shot. It is up to you whether you make good in this community or not. Go now."
When he had gone, she turned to Handsome.
"Handsome," she said slowly, "you can go now, too. Keep an eye on that Pat. At midnight to-night, come here to the cottage, for I want you to help me to carry the body into the woods to the quicksand pit. We will throw him there—Nick Carter, I mean."
"Of course. Shall you chuck him in alive?"
"No; for he would find some way to crawl out and escape. I will put him out of the way first. It will be only a dead body that we will have to carry, but I don't want the men to know that Nick Carter has been among us until after he is dead. Then it will not matter."
"Right you are," said Handsome; and he took his departure.
But down in the cellar beneath them something had happened, for as soon as the party of three left him, Nick calmly and easily pulled the iron staples from the wall and stood upon his feet. The fact was that he had already succeeded in loosening them when he heard the approach of Madge and the others, and hehad been afforded barely time to resume his position of helpless captivity when the door was opened and they entered.
But now he was free, save for the short chains that were still fastened to his wrists, and the plank walls that rose between him and liberty.
But the chains on each wrist were short, and the walls were only plank; and in Madge's eagerness and haste in fastening him there she had neglected—or she had not thought it necessary—to search him for his weapons.
He knew now that there was very little time to spare, and that he and his three assistants were in a bad predicament.
In the meantime, Patsy had been in half a dozen different kinds of a brown study. He realized that now the entire situation depended solely upon him, and that the lives of his chief, and of Chick and Ten-Ichi, rested wholly in his hands.
He stood, be it said, all alone, in the midst of a huge swamp, from which escape could only be had by means of a boat, and into which he had been conducted blindfolded. Around him were men, all ready at any instant to take his life for the merest excuse; and already the lives of his three friends were sacrificed unless he could do something—and that very speedily—to save them.
In the cellar at the cottage he had not dared to look squarely at his chief, for fear that the inclination on his own part to make some sort of signal would be too strong for him to resist; and he had known that Madge was watching every act and motion, as a cat watches a mouse.
When he left the cottage, and had gone as far as the edge of the glade, he halted, and waited there for Handsome, for he guessed that the man would be sent away directly; and when Handsome did come, Patsy said to him:
"Sure, Handsome, will ye tell me what is to be done wid the others?"
"I haven't made up my mind about that yet," replied Handsome.
"And is it left to you that it is?"
"Certainly."
"Faith, but that's fine. I wish it was left to me, so I do."
"What would you do to them, Pat?"
"I'd skin 'em, begorra!"
Handsome laughed.
"Perhaps I will give you a chance," he said. "However, it is likely that they will go into the quicksand."
"Where is that same, then?"
"Out in the swamp a bit. There is no getting out of it, and it tells no tales. Once a man is thrown into that, he sinks out of sight in a few minutes, and that is the last of him. It is our graveyard. There are about fifty in there now. The place is bottomless."
"Cheerful, isn't it? Sure, man, it's unhealthy, it is; but I'll go and have a look at it. Where is it?"
Handsome directed him how to find it, and he hastened away; but he paused before he started long enough to select a long, strong rope that he had seen near one of the cabins. This he carried with him, and disappeared among the trees.
Patsy was gone less than half an hour, but when he returned he was whistling; and then, after a little, he found an opportunity to linger around the place where Chick and Ten-Ichi were confined in one of the cabins.
And presently he began to sing; at first in a low tone, and in unintelligible words; but his voice was good, and it attracted attention, even among that motley crew, and after a little, perceiving that they were listening, he sang the louder.
If they had but known it, he was singing in Japanese, which Ten-Ichi had taught him to speak perfectly; and the words he uttered as he sang, translated, were:
"There is a quicksand pit not far from here. They are going to throw you both into it. I have carried a rope to the quicksand pit. I have tied it to a tree near there. When you are thrown into the pit, spread out your arms. And also spread out your legs. Keep as still as possible so as not to sink too fast. I will be there as soon as I can do it. I will throw you the end of the rope. And with your own combined strength and mine, we can pull you out. I am not suspected, so I can do the act, all right. Keep up your pluck, and manage not to go into the pit head down."
He sang this over and over several times until he was sure that Ten-Ichi had heard and understood, andwould convey the message to Chick, and then he sauntered away.
Twice after that he tried to get near to the cottage to sing to Nick Carter; but each time he was stopped and turned back again; and at last he muttered to himself:
"I'll have to wait till to-night for that part of it. After I have rescued Chick and Ten-Ichi I will have them to help me, and then it will be funny if we don't get the chief out of the pickle he is in."
It was well toward evening, almost the hour of sundown, before Chick and Ten-Ichi were carried to the quicksand pit; and then a procession followed them. The hands and feet of the prisoners were not bound, for it was desired that they should flounder in the quicksand in order to hasten its work; and without ceremony they were hurled into the midst of it, one, and then the other.
Patsy's only fear was that the horde of hoboes would throw sticks and stones at the helpless men in the sand pit; but he found that this was against orders, since the presence of such impedimenta would give the victims something to seize hold of; and the operation of sinking was so slow, and the hoboes had seen it so many times, that they had lost interest in it; so that almost at once after Chick and Ten-Ichi were thrown in they began to withdraw to their several occupations; and finally when only a group offour remained, Patsy, who was one of them, called out: "It's tired of this I am. Come on!" and, nothing loath, the others followed him away.
But he was not long gone. Almost at once he found an opportunity to leave them, and, by making a detour, to hurry back again.
Already when he had reached the pit a second time the two detectives had sunk almost to their armpits; but in an instant Patsy found the rope he had concealed, one end of which was fastened to a tree.
The task which followed can better be imagined than described, and only for the great strength of the trio it must have been unsuccessful. But with Chick and Ten-Ichi straining for their lives at one end, and Patsy pulling on the other as best he could, they came forth inch by inch, until at last they stood, covered with mud, to be sure, but on solid earth.
"Now, go around that way," said Patsy, speaking rapidly. "The cottage is over there, as you know. You'll have to cross a neck of the swamp in getting to it, but the chief is there, a prisoner. I have seen him. He is chained to the wall in the cellar. If you get a chance before I do, overcome that beast of a sentinel, who is walking up and down near the house. I'll go back through the glade, and I'll manage somehow to join you there, if I have to kill somebody in order to do it; and take these. They are extra ones.I swiped them." He handed them each a pistol as he spoke.
Chance played into Patsy's hands when he returned to the glade. Two of the men had been quarreling, and they had taken the centre of the glade to settle their differences; and there a ring had formed around them—a ring which comprised almost every man of the outfit.
The point was that the attention of everybody was diverted from Patsy, and, merely bestowing a single glance upon what was taking place, he hurried silently past them—it was almost dark now—and in a moment more had passed through the pathway to the clearing around the cottage.
As he entered the clearing silently, he came directly upon the sentinel, who, after listening to the row in the glade for a moment, had just turned to retrace his steps; this made him assume a position with his back toward Patsy, and in an instant the young athlete had leaped upon his back and shoulders, and had seized him by the throat, so that he bore him to the ground in absolute silence.
And even as he did that, Chick and Ten-Ichi dashed out of the woods and helped him; and Ten-Ichi, none too gentle, now that his anger was aroused, rapped the sentinel on the head with the butt of his pistol, so that he stiffened out and offered no more resistance.
They had been thoughtful enough to bring the ropewith them, too, and it did not take long to tie the man; and then the three assistants of Nick Carter leaped forward toward the door of the cottage, realizing that at any instant they might be interrupted in their work, and knowing that the odds would be terribly against them if they were.
They leaped upon the piazza—and as they did so the door opened directly in front of them, and Nick Carter appeared before them with the senseless form of Black Madge in his arms.
For just one instant he started backward; and then he recognized his three assistants.
"Quick!" he exclaimed. "Hold her, Chick!" and he put Madge into Chick's arms. "I have drugged her with some of her own stuff. There's plenty of it in the house. Get into the woods, all of you, over there"—and he pointed to the spot he wished them to go—"and wait for me. I'll be there in a moment."
While they obeyed him, he turned back into the house; and from the edge of the clearing, where the others had concealed themselves, they presently saw a blaze flare up inside the house; then another, and then another, until there were many of them; and then Nick Carter dashed out of it again and ran toward them with all speed.
"Look, now!" he said. "Watch that upper window, in the gable!"
And looking as he commanded them to do, theypresently saw, when the light had gained in brightness, the form of a woman standing there, outlined against the blazing fire; and if they had not known differently, there was not one of them who would not have sworn that it was Black Madge who stood there, surrounded by flames.
"It is a dummy that I fixed up," whispered the detective. "It was done to keep the attention of the crowd away from us. Look! The men have discovered the fire!"
The hoboes were rushing toward the scene in crowds now; and they saw the figure of the woman at the window in the gable instantly.
A cry, then a shout, then a wail went up, for they thought it was their chief—Black Madge, otherwise Hobo Harry, the Beggar King, as she preferred to be known outside her own fraternity; and in that instant the crowd went mad.
There was not a soul among them who did not rush to the rescue of their chief, believing that Nick's dummy at the window was she; and then danced and shouted, and yelled and screamed around that burning cottage, like so many madmen.
"Come, now," said the detective. "This is our opportunity!"
Like shadows they sped away through the trees. They skirted the glade, now without a sign of life within it; they hurried down the path among thealders toward the place where the boat was kept, and where there were now no less than four boats.
But they took them all in order that none might be left for the pursuers, when it should occur to them to take up the chase; and then, with the strength of desperation, and guided by Nick, who had been twice over the route without being blindfolded, they made their way silently and swiftly through the maze of the swamp, to dry land at the other side of it.
"We have not made good our escape yet," said Nick, as they climbed the grade of the railway. "If only a train would come along now, so we could flag it—hark!"
Even as he spoke, a freight came around the curve toward them, and Nick, giving the unconscious form of Madge into the care of Chick, leaped out upon the track between the rails, and, at the risk of his life, stood within the glare of the advancing headlight and waved his coat for the engineer to stop.
Fortunately it was a freight, and it was going rather slowly. The engineer saw the frantic appeal, and closed his throttle and applied the brakes.
The party was taken aboard, and Black Madge was locked up in the jail at Calamont. She jeered at her captors, assuring them that she would be free again, and that when she was they had better remember who and what she was.
Nick and his assistants then returned to New York,pretty thoroughly tired out by their experiences with Black Madge and her followers.
The following day Nick Carter called upon the president of the E. & S. W. R. R. Co., and told him the story of the capture of "Hobo Harry."
"Also, I want to tell you," said the detective, "that I was one of the burglars that robbed the bank at Calamont. I see there is quite a stir about it. But I know where the loot is concealed, and if you will raise a hundred men for me I will go back and clean out that swamp, and not only return the property to the bank, but I will find almost all that has been stolen from different places for a long time."
Arrangements were at once made to carry out Nick's plans, but the detective was not quick enough.
The news of the arrest of Black Madge had spread through the surrounding country like wildfire, and, by the time Nick and his force of railroad employees reached the place, the gang had fled, and the people of the near-by towns, having formed vigilance committees, had swooped down on the stronghold in the swamp.
Nick and his men, however, destroyed everything that remained, with axes and matches, and what they could not destroy in that way they blew up with dynamite, so that the place no longer offered a refuge for the hoboes.
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."
"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 us."
"Oh," said the detective, smiling. "Can I? Well, possibly."
"You see," the president continued, "we have calleda 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."
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! Isthatwhat 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 youdoundertake it."
"If Idoundertake it? Of course, I shall undertake it."
"Then there will be one thing in your favor."
"What is that, please?"
"The very fact that youdogo 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 directlyconnected 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 yourfinger 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 iswhat 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 willbe 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.
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 foryou 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 whatyou 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?"
"Certainly."
The old man shook his head.
"I don't believe it," he said, "but maybe you can. How about the voice? Your voice ain't no more like mine than a——"
"I can do that, too," replied Nick, exactly simulating the voice in which the old man was speaking; and he looked around him in wonder, and then at the detective.
"It does beat all!" he said at last. "I guess you're some too many for me, sir."
"Shall we get at those plans now?"
"Right away."
Turner brought out paper and pencil, and, having cleared the top of his table, he began to work.
First he drew a large circle on the paper, and at one edge of it he made a cross.
"That there cross is Calamont," he said. "Where we be now; and all that's inside of the ring I've made lies to the east of here, from nor'-nor'east to sou'-sou'east—and east. You understand?"
"Perfectly."
"Well, jest about in the middle o' that ring is the place where I think them fellers would hide. It's the best place for them."
"Tell me about it before you draw anything; or, rather, talk while you are drawing."
"That's jest what I'm going to do. Now, you follow my pencil and pay attention."
"Go ahead," said Nick.
"When you leave here—if you start from Calamont, which I suppose you will—you start right about here. You take a general direction nor'east from here at first. You'll find a path through the woods after you git about two miles from here, and that path will lead you several miles. But about here it'll disappear, and you won't have nothin' to guide you 'cept what I show you and tell you now."
"Exactly," replied the detective.
"Up here, at about the time you lose all trace o' the path, you'll come to a deep ravine. You want to follow up the middle of that, to the top. And when you git to the top of it you will think that you have runup ag'inst a cliff, and there ain't no gettin' out of it without goin' back.
"But that ain't so. There's a waterfall at the end of the ravine. It comes around a sort of a twist in the rocks, and if you ain't afraid of gettin' damp, you follow around there, and you will find as nice a piece of steps cut in them stones as you ever saw in your life. Indians cut 'em more'n a hundred years ago, so I'm told.
"Well, they take you to the top of that cliff. When you're up there, you find you're in another ravine, not so deep as t'other. Right here that would be," he added, making a mark with the pencil.
"All right," said Nick.
"About a mile farther up that second ravine you want to leave it. You'll find a big dead oak that hangs out over it, and beside the dead oak there is a path up the side of the ravine. It is one of my own paths. You get up it by hangin' onto two things you find there for the purpose. I put 'em there more'n twenty years ago, mister."