Loudly, earnestly Porky Sneezed. It was so sudden, so unexpected that he could not control or disguise it. It came out, seemingly filling the little plant house. To Porky it sounded like a large gun going off. It was followed by an instant of deepest silence while Porky crouched in his corner and wondered what next. Like an inspiration the thought came to him as the two men, quick as cats, leaped for the door and shoved it in. Ledermann had a flashlight in his hand, and he swept the little room, making an exclamation as he found what he sought and feared. In the corner he saw a little boy curled up asleep.
Adolph seized the boy's foot and jerked it roughly. With a start he awoke, muttering, "What's the matter?"
"Come out here!" cried Ledermann, as Adolph hauled the boy out of the door.
"What's the matter?" cried Porky. "I ain't doin' any harm! I was tired, and went in there, and I must have gone to sleep. How'd you know I was there? Are you police?"
"Yes, that's it!" said Ledermann. "You've guessed it. We are policemen."
"Where's your uniforms?" he asked then. "You ain't policemen. What you doin' here yourself? You can't arrest me for just goin' to sleep in this dinky little dog house. Gee, I might have slept all night! Guess I'll go along. Pop and Mom'll fix me for bein' so late." He started to rise, but Ledermann pushed him back.
"Not so fast, not so fast, young follow!" he said slowly. "I would like to find out, if possible, just how much asleep you were. You see we don't think you would listen to anything that was not intended for your ears, but we want you to tell us if you did hear any little thing. By mistake, of course."
"Wasting time!" grunted Adolph. "Let me tickle him with my little toy here. Safety first, as these people always say."
"Be quiet!" ordered Ledermann. "And you too, young fellow! If you try to scream, we will kill you."
"Aw, quit your kiddn'!" said Porky cheekily. "What would I want to yell for? I don't want to get arrested any more than I am. I want to go home! tell you, how could I hear anything when I was asleep? I want to go home! What's it to me what you talk about?" He sniffed, and drew his cuff across his eyes.
"Let me have him," said Adolph. "Let me go outside the gates with him."
"No," said Porky, using his cuff again. "I ain't goin' with nobody. I know how to get home. I don't have to have somebody take me." He tried to wiggle away, but felt Adolph's clutch close like an iron vise.
"There, there," said Ledermann quietly, as he nudged Adolph under cover of the darkness. "All we want to know is how much you heard. It is nothing to me what you do after that. You see my friend here does not mean what he says, but—well, I may as well tell you how it is." He turned the flashlight on the boy's face and held it there, watching him like a hawk while he talked. "My friend has invented something that will prove to be a very wonderful thing for everybody in the world, and he is very anxious that it shall be kept a secret until he is ready to put it on the market. Now you are a smart boy, and I will give you one guess to see if you can tell me what we were talking about. Tell me what you think he has invented."
Porky thought a moment with a deep frown on his face.
"It's a patent medicine he has invented," he ventured finally.
"That's a good guess," said Ledermann. "Such a good guess that I think you must have heard some of our talk."
"I didn't, honest," said Porky. "Couldn't you see I was asleep? What do you suppose I care about your old patent medicine? So long as you ain't policemen, let me go. I want to go home!"
"You shall go," said Ledermann, scowling in the direction of Adolph, "but I am afraid you might follow us and find out about the medicine. If you stay right here for a while, why, we will go away, and you will never know to whom you have been talking in this pitch dark. So we will just get you to do that much for us. And if you tell any one how you came to be here, or what we have said to you, we will come back and kill you and kill all your people!"
He hissed the awful threat in the boy's ear, and shutting off the flashlight, he took a cord from his pocket, and wound it tightly around the boy's wrists and ankles, tying it in a peculiar knot. Then with a handkerchief he gagged him.
"Now," he said to Porky, "you can get that cord off and the gag out, but you are going to sleep for a little while." He took a little pill from his pocket and forced it far back in Porky's mouth. "We will sit outside and watch you a while," said the spy. He laid the boy down on the floor of the house, propped the door in place, and all was silent. In the house, Porky, lying flat on his back, was trying frantically to work the pill out between his lips before it dissolved. He rolled it forward in his cheek, and turned on his face and blew hard.
The pill rolled out on the floor. Porky went limp. Sweat poured down his face as he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. There was absolute silence outside but Porky fancied he could hear the breathing of the watchers. It seemed hours and hours before he heard the door move, and knew the flashlight was directed on him. Then he heard a grunt of satisfaction and soft footsteps padding over the close grass told him that at last the two villains were gone.
Porky did not dare to stir, however, and lay thinking out his next move. He felt that for a little while he was safe. His one concern was for his brother, who had been watching over the greenhouses on the other side of the race-track. It occurred to him that Beany would be waiting for him there. He decided that for a while at least he would not report the affair to Colonel Bright. He wanted to find his brother. But he did not dare leave the toy house, so he lay listening to every sound and working in the dark with the most extraordinary knot that Ledermann had tied in the cord cutting into his ankles.
Beany, who had walked rapidly over to the place allocated for him, had waited in vain for something to turn up, and long after the time set for the meeting had commenced watching for his brother. Something, he felt sure, had happened in some other part of the grounds. He was strangely uneasy. A great desire to find Porky came over him. He walked down the road, leading from the great upper camp, and stood looking in every direction. watching for his brother.
As he looked, a familiar car swept past him an and stopped. It was the Colonel's car, and Colonel Bright himself leaned out and beckoned him. Beany ran to the machine and saluted.
"Hop in, hop in!" said the Colonel. "I don't know which one you are but I want to talk to you. Go on, Sergeant," and the car leaped forward.
"You or your brother said something about a hunch. Never mind which one, I'll bet you both think alike. Now I want to know all about it. What's that hunch all about?"
Beany was silent.
"Come on, I'm listening," he said, urging the boy to words.
Beany looked up into the strong, rugged face and studied the keen, kind, twinkling eyes that made the Colonel the best loved man in the American army, then leaned close to the Colonel, and told him of the two men at the ice-cream stand, and then, going back, he told of their recognition of the captain as the man who had driven the car at the Troop D Farm. The Colonel listened, even forgetting to smoke, and a frown deepened on his face.
"Where is your brother now?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Beany. "At the green house waitin' for me,I suppose."
"Would he go home, or back to the Police Camp?"
"No, sir, we always wait for each other," explained Beany.
"Well, we are in town now," said the Colonel, "and soon as I do an errand downtown you may take me to your house, and then the Sergeant will run you back to the Camp. If you find your brother, telephone me. I don't need to tell you to keep silent. Don't forget what a big thing you're doing, my boy, and also what a great reward if you find the formula. Think of it, a college education! And I will see to it that you will each have one."
"Yes, sir," said Beany thickly. "I keep a-thinkin' about the college education."
"That's right," said the Colonel heartily. "That's right! Just think what a fine thing to earn. The chance to have four years, in fact, to have six years good hard study in a good school and college. Think of the fellows that would jump at a chance like that!"
"Yes, sir," said Beany, and added earnestly, "I wish they had it to jump at. Here is your corner." He skipped out of the car, and when the colonel went in to the big office building, Beany stood on the curb and looked around him. Beany was tired and dirty and pale through the grime. He had had no supper. He was low, very low in his mind. All that talk about college again. Hang it! He had clean forgotten that hanging over him, and had been enjoying all this spy hunting for its own sake.
The more he thought of that college education, the more he glared. He groaned, and turned just in time to face a couple of men who were hurrying across the sidewalk. They glanced a him, stopped short, and the smaller man went dead white.
"Look, Ledermann!" he cried in a choking voice. "It's the same! What did you give him?" He screamed suddenly, his face worked, and grew purple. Then down he went frothing in such a terrible convulsion that Beany bolted into the Colonel's car, frightened out of his wits. A crowd gathered, and at once ambulance was summoned, and policemen were taking the names of people who had happened to be near; but no one thought of taking anything at all from the Boy Scout who sat so still beside the Colonel's driver.
When the ambulance had clattered away with its gong ringing noisily, the Sergeant turned to Beany.
"Well, you did for him all right!" he said.
"What did I do?" demanded Beany.
"That's all right," said the Sergeant. "I have my eyes all right, all right. You tell the Colonel or I will. Those bums give you a look, and threw a fit. Both of 'em. I saw their eyes stick out a yard. They acted like you was a ghost. You do look pretty pale, at that! Well, I bet you've done for one of them. I never saw a harder fit in my life. You certainly gave him some scare."
"I never saw him before," Beany said over and over. When the Colonel came out, the Sergeant gave him a glare, and he repeated the incident as they drove toward the Colonel's house. The Colonel said he would telephone to the hospital, as the man would no doubt come out all right.
Beany said good-night to the Colonel and slipped back in the seat beside the Sergeant.
"Funny about that fellow," said the soldier. "Did you hear what he said? He said, 'What did you give him?' Looks queer to me. Looks like he thought you were the ghost of somebody they had just killed. Must be you looked like somebody—" the man stopped, and stared at Beany for a startled second.
"Where's your twin?" he asked suddenly.
Beany went cold. A thousand frightful thoughts and possibilities surged up in his mind. Where was Porky?
He turned and struck the Sergeant a sharp blow on the arm.
"Drive fast!" he demanded, and settling low in his seat, watched the road drive at their car and disappear under it, as the Sergeant, eager as, claimed the privilege of the Colonel's car and leaped past everything on the boulevard.
"Where will you go?" cried the Sergeant in his ear.
"Here by the gate first," said Beany, leaping out of the car.
The Sergeant stopped his engine. "I'll go with you," he said kindly.
It seemed a hopeless task. They did not know where to look, but first tried all the seats around the bandstand and the settees on the great porches behind the pillars of the Administration and Fine Arts Building.
Then they drove the car over to the greenhouse, but all was quiet and deserted there. At the suggestion of the Sergeant, they went to the Hospital but no boy had been brought in. Once more they approached the gate, and again they left the car, And looked silently about in the darkness.
Beany was trembling with fear; fear for the brother whom he loved.
He placed his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill, clear whistle. Three times he repeated the call that sounded like some night bird's song.
Then, as they listened, it was repeated. It was a muffled sound, yet close. Once more Beany gave the signal, this time with a leaping heart, and the answer came clear and keen, as though a lid had been taken off.
Beany ran in the direction of the sound. As he passed the flower-house, Porky hailed him.
"Hey!" he said. "Got a knife?"
Guided by Porky's voice, Beany and the Sergeant raced across the grass.
"Here I am!" said Porky, cocky as you please. "Say, I wish you could see this knot! I have worked about all night over it, and it gets tighter and tighter."
The Sergeant whipped out a knife and cut the cord.
"Who tied you up?" he asked.
"A couple of fellows," said Porky, stamping the feeling into his feet and ankles. "Couldn't see who they were."
"You can see one of them any time now, I'll bet," said the Sergeant. "Your brother here did for him in the neatest way you ever saw." He repeated the meeting on Salina Street, while Porky walked up and down the drive between the Sergeant and his brother.
"Yes, sir, he keeled right over and gosh, how he did flop around! It was a fit all right. I bet he died, too, because he went limp all at once. He acted like he'd seen a ghost. He yelled, 'What did you give him?' to the other fellow. What did he call him?" he asked Beany. "I heard him call some name."
Porky's elbow went sharply into Beany's ribs.
"Didn't catch it," said he, obeying the warning for silence.
Over in the Hospital, the dimply nurse laid compresses on the swollen ankle of Captain DuChassis. She found her patient wakeful, and worn with pain. The leg was badly wrenched, it seemed. The dimply nurse talked pleasantly with her distinguished guest, and to amuse him told him a small joke. It was an amusing little joke to her. A boy had dropped in during the afternoon, and had asked for the Captain. He seemed most anxious to know just how he was getting, along; and when she had told him that he could not leave the Hospital for another day, the boy had said, "I wish I could help take care of the Captain. Say, nurse, what have you done with his boots?"
"My boots?" said the Captain blankly. "My boots?"
"Wasn't it funny?" said the nurse. "I suppose he is so crazy over you, boy-like, that he wanted to see your tall boots. Don't you suppose so?"
"Probably," said the Captain. He put a hand over the side of the bed, and felt to see if his boots were there. Then he grew so quiet that the nurse slipped softly away, thinking him asleep.
When she had gone he did a strange thing. He took those boots, dusty as they were and, placing them under the pillow, went to sleep. But in the morning, although the nurse came in very early, the boots were under the bed.
"If he comes in this morning, send him up here, won't you?" he begged. "It would amuse me so; and I don't want to get up until afternoon. I would be so charmed to meet that funny little boy. My boots! How droll!"
About ten o'clock two boys strolled into the office and passed the nurses' sitting-room. The dimply nurse seized on one of them.
"I am so glad you have come!" she said.
"Captain DuChassis wants to see you. I told him how you came in and asked for him yesterday."
She went on. "I can't go up for another hour; so you can both go up and amuse him. I am sure he will tell you wonderful things about the other side. Through the office and upstairs, boys."
She shooed them out and Beany and Asa stopped outside the door and consulted.
Asa was a good boy but about as progressive as a potato, and something the color of a peeled one. No amount of sun tanned him. It made his eye-lashes whiter if anything, and his lips paler.
"Were you here at all yesterday?" demanded Beany.
"Oh, yes," said Asa. "Twice."
"Well, then, listen here. I want you should go up there, and when he says are you the boy who was here yesterday, you say yes, and don't say anything else if you can help it. See?"
"Oh, yes," said Asa, who did not see at all, but who did not let that bother lot that bother him in the least.
"Mind!" said Beany sternly. "I don't want him to know about me or Porky at all. There are reasons; Scout reasons, Asa, so you mind out. Got that through your nut?"
"Oh, yes," said Asa, blinking his white lashes.
"You ain't afraid of him, are you?" asked Beany, remembering theWolf's keen eye.
"Oh, no," said Asa.
When Asa came down in a few minutes, he seemed rather upset—for Asa. He blinked rapidly, and there was something so worried in his open smile that Beany felt conscience-stricken to think he had sent him on such an errand. He rose, and they walked rapidly away, for Asa seemed to be thinking deeply.
When they reached the seats around the bandstand, deserted so early in the morning, Beany sat down.
"Well, let's have it," he demanded.
"That's a funny guy," said Asa, twirling his Scout hat rapidly in his pale bands. "I did just what you said. I went in, and I said, 'Morning!' at all. He just looked at me until I felt like I wasn't there at all; and he smiled softer than anything I ever see except, some one—I can't think who it was. Well, I did what you said, and he said—"
"What did you do that I said?" said Beany anxiously.
"Why, nothing," said Asa. "Just stood; and he said, 'Come here, boy,' and I went closer and he said, 'So you were here yesterday,' and I said, 'Oh, yes.' And then he says, 'Well, what do you think of a Swiss Captain's uniform—pretty fine, eh?" I says, 'Oh, yes,' and he says, ''Specially the boots?' and gimlets his eyes right into me. I wanted to say I'd never seen no Swiss Captain's boots, but I remembered what you told me, so I looked back at him and didn't say anything. And then he laughed and said, 'All that scare for nothing! My boy, you are a refreshing draught. Thank you for coming. I am so glad to know just what you are like that I will tell you a great truth. Remember it. It is this: all women are fools."
"Well, go on!" demanded Beany. "What did you say to that?"
"I remembered what you said," smiled Asa, "and I just said, 'Oh, yes.'"
Beany, in spite of his anxiety, howled until he fell off the bench.
"What did he say!" he asked as soon as he could speak.
"Why, he laughed too," said Asa, with a puzzled look, and he said, "Such wisdom in one so young!' Then I came out. Darned if I didn't think part of the time he was kiddin' me!"
"Well, I got to find Porky and go on guard at the AdministrationBuilding!" said Beany. "Where you going?"
"Over to the clubhouse," said Asa. "I wonder who he looks like when he smiles."
"Well, for cat's sake," cried Beany, "forget it; lose it; shake it! What do you care who he smiles like? Gee—" He turned and walked rapidly away. He had nearly reached the Administration Building when he heard Asa calling his name. Beany turned and waited while the other pounded up.
"I remembered," he said in a relieved tone. "Gee, for a while I couldn't think but now I can! He smiles just like our collie when he's goin' to bite the mailman. That's just who he smiles like!" He waved a hand and turned away, and commenced to retrace his steps.
Beany stood looking after him.
"Gosh!" he said feebly.
"Why Gosh, young man!" said a deep voice.
Beany whirled and saluted the Colonel.
"It's that Asa, sir," he said and proceeded to give an account of the past few hours.
"Where is your brother?" he asked when they had talked things over awhile.
"Coming right now," said Beany.
The Colonel glanced up. "Sure enough, here he is," he said. "Who is with him? Is that the boy you have been telling me about?"
"Yes, sir, that's Asa," laughed Beany.
"You boys come into my office," said the Colonel. He led the way, spoke to the orderly, and closed the door.
"Now, boys," he said, "you are such little daredevils that you are not going to like the plan we have made at all. I have consulted with the police, and with Colonel Handler, and now I want to take you into our confidence. All the credit for discovering this particular group of spies belongs to you. We do not want to get you into any unnecessary harm, however, and it is wisest to have you keep entirely out of it. That seems poor pay, doesn't it, when you have done such good work? However, right is right, and you want to be good soldiers and take orders as such. We are going to raid the house where we know the gang will soon meet. We have located the place, and the men. The fellow you gave such a start last night, Beany, will not trouble us again. He never came out of that fit."
"My gosh!" said Beany. It gave him a queer feeling.
"No," said the Colonel, "he is done for. Now, boys, take a day off. Go home and see your mothers."
He played with the pen on his desk for a moment.
"Boys, I am going to tell you something. I am fifty-eight years old and I don't want you to forget what I tell you. Whatever you do, whatever gain, wherever you go, remember one thing. Don't neglect your mothers. No true man will. As long as you live, or as long as your mothers live, you will seem just little boys to them. They never think that you grow up. When you were little shavers, your mothers did for you more than any one else in the world would do. They did things that a father would do about once. Then he would be ready to give up his job. But your mothers went right on day after day, year after year, doing hard, thankless, disagreeable things. I bet you get this preached to you a lot, boys, but I want to say it to you, too. If you are away from them, write a letter, a real letter once each week. It is not much to do. Do it, boys! And don't forget the kisses. If you kiss your mother every time you come into the house or leave it, you will still have all you want for your sweethearts when you get 'em. Begin to-night when you go home. Will you?"
"Yes, sir," promised the Potter twins huskily.
No word came from Asa. The Colonel looked at him. "And you?" he said.
Asa swallowed convulsively. A tear glistened on the tip of his pale, thin nose. He nodded violently; then the words came.
"Oh, yes!" he said.
After all it was a sort of lark to be off duty and go bumming around the fairgrounds without a single thing to worry about except where the formula was. Certainly if the Wolf had it, it had gone off for a little airing, because as the boys came out of the Colonel's office they saw Captain DuChassis being driven out of the fairgrounds in an automobile. They could scarcely give chase, and they had been left out of the raid that was planned. So there was nothing for them to do but chase around and see things, and the sun was setting when the boys turned into the walk leading under the double row of fir trees, up to their house. Home, not seen for four days, looked good to the Potter twins. The dining room was lighted, and their father sat reading the evening paper. Mrs. Potter was "dishin' up." She made swift journeys to the kitchen, and returned each time with both hands full of steaming dishes. The boys took a look, and made a dash for the door.
The Colonel had talked wisely and well. Porky attacked his father from the rear, and strangled him in a bear's hug, knocking off his glasses.
Beany had his mother round the neck too, but not so roughly.
He kissed her hurriedly on the ear and then on the check and lips. Then he released her as Porky came bolting around the table. Mr. Potter, grinning with happiness, was feeling on the floor for his glasses; Mrs. Potter's eyes bright with joy.
"Why, how you do take on! Dear me suz!"
"Gee, but it's good to get home!" said the twins together. Porky went back and sat on the arm of his father's chair. Beany followed his mother into the kitchen. She had hurried out to wipe her eyes.
"Didn't think we'd be home, did you, mom?" asked Beany, pretending to look in the sugar bowl.
"I kind of plotted on it," said Mrs. Potter. "I felt like it was a good thing to be on the safe side." She opened a tin box, and drew forth a cake, a glorious large, dark, chocolate layer cake.
"Well, what's the news?" asked Porky presently at the table helping himself to more fried chicken and potatoes and parsnips and honey.
"Yes, what has happened?" echoed Beany, taking a portion of the chicken and potatoes, and parsnips, and adding mustard pickle, and preserved watermelon rind and jam. "Must be something has happened."
"Yes," said Pop Potter, smiling. "You bin away all of four days.Long enough for everybody round here to breathe easy for once!"
"Well, things does happen!" said Mrs. Potter. "I saw the Land boy the other day, and if he ain't drafted!"
"Yes, and what think she says?" Pop Potter exclaimed. "She says, 'So you're drafted? Well, well, ain't you sorry just for your own face, that you didn't enlist?'"
"Well, I so felt!" Mom Potter defended herself. "Dear me, suz, if you boys had to be drug—well, I dunno what I'd do!"
"Good for you, mom!" said Porky. "I knew you had the spunk. We will be in it somehow ruther, if they don't stick us in school."
"How's that?" asked Mr. Potter.
The boys proceeded to explain. Mom and Pop, Potter looked slyly at each other. "Education is a great thing," said Pop Potter, filling his pipe. "I must say—"
"Why, dear me suz!" said mom flutteringly. "School and college!Land sakes! You could both be ministers!"
"NO!" cried the twins, savagely attacking elderberry pie and the cake. "Don't you think it!"
"It's real respectable," said Pop Potter, winking at the boys when Mom Potter wasn't looking. "And think of all the church suppers durin' the course of the year!"
"No Potter's ever been in the pulpit," said Mom dreamily.
"Yes, there was," corrected pop, "I was there myself oncet. I grained it golden oak; and if I do say it, 'twas a neat job."
"My land, you know what I mean!" said mom, quite testily for her."It's worth tryin' for, anyhow."
"Well, we'll hope for the best," said Beany.
"Pirates?" asked pop.
"No, detectives" said Porky. "But often are not certain. We maybe all right yet."
"I suppose they, will get the spies to-night," said Beany, "and when they get them, I hope they get the formula too. Say, how is Lester anyway?"
"He's come to himself," said mom, "but dear me suz! He don't know no more what's gone by. He knows his father and sister and Wugs, because they told him who they was; but he just has clean forgot such a thing as acids or gases or any of that. He don't care about anything but the cat.
"The cat?" said the boys.
"Yes, a young cat that plays with a string most all day; and he seems to think it's a great joke."
"Gee that's awful! I think we better start early enough to go over there a minute," said Porky sadly.
"Don't go yet awhile, boys," said Mrs. Potter, bustling round to clear the table. The boys got up and helped her. "Pop and I have been reel lonesome without you."
"We will be home Saturday afternoon," said Beany. "And I do think we had better go pretty soon. I think we'd better take that paper over to Colonel Bright. Don't you think so, Porky?"
Porky put the paper in his breast pocket and buttoned the flap.
"We'll be home for good now, before you know it," said Beany. "Mr. Leffingwell says we are to return to his apartments to stay the rest of the nights. He has a swell place in town. So we are to go as far as Mr. Leffingwell's in the Colonel's car when he goes home. Some class to us, don't you say so, mom? Guess we'd better hike, folkses," he said. "Bye!"
The boys started for the door, then turned and gave Pop Potter another bear hug, and kissed their mother with a tenderness that seemed to deepen with every caress.
"Seems like it does 'em good to go off," said pop huskily.
"I won't say that," said mom loyally. "They was always the nicest boys I ever did see if they was mine; but they do seem sort of different. Sort of lovin'er, like they was when they was little. I can't say, Ben, that I ain't missed it. Seems real pleasant to have 'em let on how much they think. It makes me feel reel good. Dear me suz!" said Mrs. Potter simply. She took up her sewing and sat busily working. Once in awhile she hummed a little tune.
Pop Potter watched her slyly over his paper, but said nothing. The canary bird, however, hanging in Mrs. Potter's bedroom window where he was supposed to bask in the afternoon sun, could have told that Pop Potter awkwardly kissed Mom Potter good-night, something he had not done for years. And in the darkness Mom Potter was far too happy to sleep, and in the fullness of her joy lay there inventing cakes of such size and creaminess and lightness that the like was never seen.
Asa too had had his lesson. The barking collie had foretold his arrival, and when his mother and three sisters, each as pale and thin as himself, appeared in the door, he managed to kiss them all. It was such an amazing thing to have happen that a silence immediately fell, while two of the girls hastily wiped off their cheeks. A look of happiness dawned through the surprise on however, his mother's face, and she shyly kept her hand on Asa's knobby shoulder as he entered the house. Asa was the center of attraction at the supper table where he ran the Potter twins a close second in the amount he ate. The girls, perfectly silent, sat staring at him round-eyed; and his father, it larger edition of himself, listened or asked short questions.
When the Potter twins whistled outside, Asa shook hands solemnly with his father, and resolutely kissed the sisters and his mother good-night. When he was out of hearing, and the barking collie had returned to the doorstep, Mrs. Downe burst into sudden tears.
"What's up; what's up?" her husband demanded.
"Asy," she sobbed, "did you mind how he acted? It must be he's had a call. They's been a hoot owl outside three nights now. I do believe that's it! Asy's got a call from beyond!"
The three sisters began to cry.
"Puffickly ridiklus!" said Asa's father. "Purfickly ridiklus. That hoot owl ain't got no grudge 'gainst Asa. He's got some new Scout bee in his bunnit, I'll bet. Don't know but I like to see a boy make of his wimmin folks, at that. It never looks soft to me. Don't hurt no man."
He lifted the smallest girl to his knee. She looked frightened but after a moment cuddled up to her father, and tucked a warm little hand around his neck.
"Don't hurt no man," repeated Asa's father and held the little girl so closely that she fell happily asleep; while Asa's mother, working like a whirlwind, thought the night's work strangely light, with the warmth of her only son's kiss on her check.
Asa went cantering down the hill to meet the Potters, and together they strolled over to Wugs' house, that house of unhappiness where the brightest, happiest member of the household lay gazing at the sky or for hours playing with the kitten. He did not know the boys, but when Wugs told him who they were, he greeted them pleasantly enough.
It was very painful, and the boys slipped away as soon as they could and, followed by Wugs, went down to the edge of the lawn, and talked things over. Wugs could scarcely leave home at all. He wanted to enlist; he was nearly old enough, and now that Lester was sick, why, some one ought to help the country—some Pomeroy. The boys agreed. But his dad and Elinor needed him, too; so he supposed he would have to wait yet.
Porky, rolling around on the grass, felt the paper rustle in his pocket.
"Here, Asy," he said. "You ought to be in on this. I'm going to let you carry this paper. It is very important indeed."
Asa beamed, but as usual said nothing. It was fine to be in on things. It made him feel important. He patted his pocket, and sat straighter. The paper rustled, just as any paper would rustle. Asa, listening, heard no warning in the sound.
Finishing their talk, Porky decided that it was getting very late, and they boarded the next car passing. It was nearly empty, and the boys dozed all the way to town. In fact, they were so sleepy that the car had reached New York Central Station before they roused themselves. They had been carried two blocks too far.
"Well, we are here, anyway," said Beany, "and I'm going inside to get a stick of gum."
"That's a good stunt," said Porky.
They ran up the steps and entered the great waiting-room. Asa did not like gum, and, besides, Asa never liked to spend a penny. He stood looking about him in the middle of the space in front of the ticket office, while the twins went over to the penny-in-the-slot machine.
And then it happened—
Asa, turning from his inspection of the ticket window, gazed at a space over which hung a large sign "INFORMATION." A man who had been talking turned and started toward Asa.
It was the Wolf.
Now when the Wolf, on his way to the station to enquire about trains, had reached a certain dark corner just outside the city, he had stopped long enough to do something by the aid of a flashlight and a little packet. So when he walked into the station his face was change. It was no longer long and lean and smooth. His cheeks stuck out, and a long, heavy mustache covered his mouth. But he could not hide his peculiar, slight limp, or the cruel yellow eyes; and when Asa saw those eyes he knew them. He tried to move; to slide out of the way. His one frantic desire was to escape unnoticed. But the wildness of the boy's stare caught the Wolf's eye. He looked at the boy carelessly, then attentively as he saw that the boy recognized him. He too recognized the boy as the one who had visited him in the hospital.
He acted instantly. He stepped forward, and dropped a steel-fingered hand on Asa's shoulder.
"One single word, and I'll kill you right here," muttered theWolf, and Asa felt that it was no idle threat.
Asa did not need to be spoken to again. All the wickedness, all the blood-curdling threats that he had ever imagined, were in the Wolf's touch on his collar. He was like a rabbit that suddenly sees the white fangs of the hound close above him.
He was dumb with fright. He gave his captor one quaking look, and obedient to the guiding hand, passed out the door into the street. It was filled with people. The Wolf sought the most crowded side and mingled with the throngs.
In the meantime Porky and Beany, having secured their much-wished-for gum, a hard task on account of a penny jamming in the slot, turned to join their friend.
"Where's old Asa? I bet he's having a fit," said Beany, chewing comfortably.
"Look! Look!" said Beany suddenly, grasping his brother by the arm. "There at the door!"
Porky looked. "That's Asa," he said. "Who's he going off with—Beany, it's the Wolf!"
The Wolf, walking as though bent entirely on sightseeing, yet covering ground rapidly, led the way through the busiest part of the city, and into a quieter residential section, where he sat down on a bench just within a walled park. The Wolf was not conscious of his surroundings. He could only dwell on the fact that the boy at his side had recognized him, was following him. He did not doubt for an instant that the secret service had made use of this seemingly innocent and simple tool.
Asa sat silent under the Wolf's hand. He thought of his home. Little things occurred to him. Once he nearly giggled when he remembered how the collie played with the cat; and the Wolf, feeling his shoulders quiver, looked sharply at him. Asa thought of his father and the little dragged-out mother. He thought of the three thin, silent little sisters. They would miss him. He was so glad he had kissed them all that last night at home. It only went to prove what Colonel Bright had said. You were always glad afterwards. He was glad.
It was very dark as they walked slowly back to the entrance, the boys still stalking them. Outside the gate, the Wolf hesitated. As he looked, a small figure slipped from a shadow across the light, whistled a peculiar bar of music, and sidled up.
"Didn't expect to meet you here, Excellency," said the Weasel.
"What are you doing here?"
"Been working at the ammunition plants," said the little spy. "Wish you'd give me some money. I'm stone broke. Hello," as he spied Asa. "Where did you pick this up?"
"I'm taking him to the house," said the Wolf.
"Better let me have him, Excellency. I'll drop him somewhere where he will be out of the way.
"I'll take care of that," said the Wolf, snarling and sinking his steel fingers in Asa's shoulder.
The Weasel looked at the man in disgust. "Well, let me have some money, Excellency."
"What for?" demanded his master.
"I have worked hard all day. I want to have a little fun with it. I have earned it.
"Not a cent!" rasped the Wolf. "I know you, drinking and gaming—not a cent! For asking you shall go out and earn your supper."
The Weasel whirled round at him. "You give me some money!" he whispered. In the excitement of the moment he seemed to lose his voice.
He seized the Wolf's arm. With an oath the Wolf flung him away. He staggered and went headlong. The shock seemed to infuriate him. He leaped silently at the Wolf. There was a sudden flash of steel, and the Weasel turned with a spring, whirled, and went down in a heap. The Wolf, almost before he touched the ground, tightened his grasp on Asa, and dodged back into the park. Rapidly, through paths that seemed familiar, he gained another entrance, and emerged on a quiet street. Down this street he hurried the exhausted boy, turned suddenly into a basement where it was pitch dark, and rapped on the door. It was a peculiar rap, and reminded Asa of telegraphy. In a moment the door swung open, they entered, the Wolf fastened the door behind him, and for the first time since he caught Asa, he let go of his shoulder. He struck a match and let the blaze shine in his face. There was a queer grunt in the darkness. Without speaking, the Wolf clutched the boy once more, and led him up three flights of carpeted stairs, and into a huge room lighted by a couple of candles. It was the Wolf's den.
He flung Asa into a big, ragged chair, and, throwing his goggles and hat on the table, sat down opposite Asa, and lighted a cigarette. Then, reaching under the table, he pulled out a big square box on rollers, and unlocked it with a key which he wore on his watch chain. He took out a bottle and glass. Pouring a full portion, he drained it at a gulp. Another and another glass he emptied. The fiery liquid went to his head. A new look came over his face.
"I've got you, haven't I," he demanded of the boy. "I've got you, and this time I'm going to keep you!" He took another drink.
"How did you come to suspect who I was, you, little fool?" he demanded. "The day you came to see me in the Hospital and stood there saying, 'Oh, yes,' to everything I said—who put you on my track, eh? Somebody was smart—thought I would never notice a small boy, eh? ho did it?"
"Nobuddy put me on anybuddy's track," said Asa. "I just happened around every time."
"Of course!" said the Wolf. "Of course! You just happened a round. Funny, as you Americans say. And the letter in your pocket—it happens that I lost that letter through the idiocy of one of my servants. You happened to find that also, of course. Where did you find it?"
Asa was silent. He determined not to tell.
"Now I want you to tell me the whole thing. If you tell me everything, I shall give you a great sum of money and let you go. Won't that be fine?"
He paused again, looking keenly at Asa.
"Come, come!" said the Wolf. "I do not like to be kept waiting. You saw what I did to the little man down the street. I stabbed him. I am not afraid to tell you. I shall not stab you. Oh, no! You are a nice boy; you are going to tell me all about everything. That little man is dead now, quite dead. You would not like to be like that, would you? Well, you are going to get a lot of money, and go free, so you can have a nice time spending it. Come," he said in a level, patient tone. "Speak!"
Asa's pale, terrified eyes were fixed on his tormentor, but still he was silent. The Wolf took a twenty-dollar gold piece from his pocket and laid it on the table before the boy.
"Twenty dollars in gold," he said. He took other pieces like it from his pocket and piled them up. "Wealth!"' he almost whispered. "Did you ever have as much money as that?"
Asa shook his head.
The Wolf leaned confidentially forward.
"Now tell me all about everything," he said coaxingly. He studied Asa.
Asa studied him in return. Like a fascinated bird staring at a snake, he looked at the cold, glittering eyes, the browned face, the sear on the cheek. As he looked, the sear slowly turned white. It gave the effect of its springing out into plain sight.
He looked carefully all over the Wolf. It was as though he wanted to remember every little detail. The Wolf smiled.
"Curious about me, are you?" he said with a snarl, his smile fading away. "Well, if you won't speak, then I will have to talk. Now I want to know just who is tracking me, and just how much they think they know about me. And you are going to tell me everything."
Asa woke up. It felt to the tortured boy as though some cord in his heart or soul suddenly snapped and left him free. Asa, who had been always afraid to speak, was afraid no longer. Asa, who found speech difficult, spoke rapidly and violently.
"No, I ain't," he shrilled. "I ain't goin' to tell a word about nuthin'. And when I get out of here, I'm goin' to tell the first policeman I see about that little thin man you stuck the knife into. And I ain't afraid of you. Not a mite! I don't care what you do to me, I ain't goin' to tell!"
The scar stood out white as chalk.
"No?" said the Wolf. He took another drink, then with a sudden motion hurled Asa back in his chair and tied him there. Round and round the thin figure he twisted the rope, until Asa could not move a muscle. The Wolf propped the boy's feet up on a box, and took off his shoes. Asa watched him curiously. He remembered the wild Indian stories he had read. Was this going to be a trial by fire, he wondered. The Wolf lighted a huge cigar and smoked it until the end glowed red. Then he drew his chair close to Asa's feet. He showed him the cigar.
"That would hurt on your bare feet, wouldn't?" he asked silkily. "So much pain—and all because you want to be stubborn! Well, I have taught stubborn boys—and men—many times many times! So you had better tell me who suspects the Wolf."
A sound at the door caused him to turn. Ledermann entered.
"What's this, Excellency?" asked Ledermann. "Whom have we here?"
"A stubborn little boy," said the Wolf. "A stubborn little boy, who is going to think better of his course of action in just a few minutes, and who is then going to tell me ever so many things that I want to know."
Asa stared at the Wolf's wicked eyes and shivered. The Wolf turned away.
"What news to-night, Ledermann?" he asked.
"Adolph is dead for one thing," said Ledermann coolly. "He had one of his convulsions on the street, and it finished him."
"We were about through with him," said the Wolf heartlessly. He dismissed the subject. "What else?" he demanded.
"I have all the papers," answered Ledermann. "And as I could not get here until dark, I took a room in a safe little hotel where I would be undisturbed, and I made the copy for you." He handed over a tiny square of paper.
The Wolf carefully unfolded it. Then he laughed gleefully."Fine; fine, Ledermann! This finishes our work."
He crossed his leg over his knee, took a peculiar looking wrench from his pocket, fitted it round the heel of his shoe, and turned it. The other man caught his arm, and spoke rapidly in German.
"What possesses you, Excellency; are you mad? This boy—"
"Bah! What does it matter whether I finish him now or an hour later?" he asked. "We can't let him go. I was obliged to punish the Weasel to-night and he saw it. It seemed to affect him unpleasantly. These American children know nothing of the value of discipline. He is going to tell me all he knows before I finish. The little rat—think of him defying me!"
The heel came off. Asa looked curiously. It was hollow and was neatly packed with papers like the one in the Wolf's hand. The Wolf turned out the precious packets, and looked them over carefully. Ledermann looked from the Wolf intent on his papers, to Asa, bound in the chair. He looked at the Wolf again. He swayed a little; the drinks had gone to his head just enough to make him unsteady and reckless. He had not intended to take so much; the Wolf was always careful; but to-night—well, the day had been a hard one, and the end was so near. For months he had been under a terrific strain—Ledermann shook his head.
"See how I trust you," said the Wolf in English, looking up from his papers, "I know you will never, never tell. Oh no, that would be impossible! Isn't that a fine little place to hide things?" he chuckled, and replaced the packets, screwed the heel in place, and stamped his foot on the floor. Then he turned to his bottle.
Ledermann had placed it beyond his reach.
"Give me that!" he demanded violently.
Ledermann obeyed.
The Wolf turned to him.
"Now, Ledermann, no fooling here; turn in all your accounts. Destroy everything that could give a clew to us. Pack the bombs in the vault under the cellar floor. We may come back some day, when we land with our men on the shores of Long Island." He turned away. "Go and pack. We must be away from here before dawn."
Ledermann shrugged his shoulders, looked curiously at Asa, then turned and left the room.
The Wolf got up, threw a few things in a small suit-case, arranged some papers, took off his coat, and stood looking at Asa. Directly behind him, against the wall, was a large, old-fashioned wardrobe. Its dark, heavy, walnut doors threw the lean, muscular figure of the Wolf out as though carved in granite. He took a step toward the boy, and rolled up his sleeves.
"Now, young man, I'll attend to you," he said.
Hope died in Asa's heart.