CHAPTER XIVTHE CONSPIRACY
Rutherford Richmond recognized Ben Mayberry at the same instant that the latter identified him. But neither gave any evidence of the fact that could be understood by other parties.
Ben took his position with Dolly by his side, and they were without doubt the handsomest couple on the floor that evening. Their mutual interest was so marked that everyone present noticed it, and it caused comment without end.
“Yes, I believe he sweeps out the office for a telegraph company. He manages to save up enough money in the course of a year to buy a decent suit of clothes.”
Ben Mayberry was sitting down at the end of one of the dances, when he overheard thesewords, which he knew referred to him. Dolly had excused herself for a few minutes, and he was alone, sniffing at a fragrant bouquet which he was protecting from all damage for her benefit.
He knew, further, that the remark was intended for his ears, but he affected not to know it, while he furtively glanced behind him. There stood Master Rutherford Richmond, with three or four lads. They were all jealous of Ben, and were discussing his merits for his own especial benefit.
“I understand he gets fifty cents a week for his work,” observed another, making sure his voice was elevated enough to be heard half across the room, “which is a big sum for him.”
“I don’t understand why Miss Jennie” (referring to Jennie Grandin, who gave the party) “allows such cattle here,” struck in a third, in the same off-hand manner.
Rutherford Richmond took upon himself to give the reason.
“It was all on account of Dolly. You know she is kind-hearted, and I understand this booby went to her and begged that she would give him a chance to see how a party of high-toned people looked. She couldn’t very well refuse, and now she is trotting him around for the rest of us to laugh at.”
Ben Mayberry’s cheeks burned, for none of these words escaped him. He would have given a good deal to have been outside alone for a few minutes with Master Rutherford Richmond. But he could not call him to account under the circumstances, and he still sniffed at the bouquet in his hand, and affected to be very much interested in the action of a couple of misses on the opposite side of the room.
“If Miss Jennie permits anything of this kind again,” volunteered Rutherford, “it will cause trouble. A good many will want to know, before they allow their children to come, whether they are liable to meet the telegraphoffice boy and the great ball player here; if there’s danger they will stay at home.”
“I think the scum of society should be kept in its place,” observed another, scarcely less bitter than young Richmond in his jealousy of the lad who claimed so much of the attention of the little belle of the evening.
This kind of talk was going on when, to Ben’s great relief, Dolly came tripping to him. He added gall to the cup of the envious youths by rising, giving her his arm, and then glancing triumphantly back at them, as he escorted her to the dining room.
They knew the meaning of the glance, and they were fierce enough to assault him had they dared to do so.
The party came to an end before midnight. Ben Mayberry had saluted his friends, and was in the hall preparatory to going home, when someone slyly pulled his arm. Turning, he saw that it was Ned Deering, a little fellow whose father was the leading physician in Damietta.Ned was a great admirer of Ben, and he now seized the occasion to say:
“Look out, Ben, when you get down by the bridge over the creek; they’re going for you.”
“Whom do you mean?”
“That Rutherford Richmond and another fellow mean to hide in Carter’s Alley, and when you come along will pounce down on you. They wanted me to go with ’em, but I begged off without letting ’em know I meant to tell you.”
“Where are they?” asked Ben, glancing furtively about him.
“They slipped out ahead, and are hurrying down there. You had better take another way home. They are awful mad, and will knock the stuffing out of you.”
Ben Mayberry smiled over the earnest words and manner of the boy, and thanked him for his information.
“Don’t let ’em know I told you,” added the timid fellow, as Ben moved out the door; “forif they find out that it was me that was the cause of your going the other way home, why, they’d punch my head for me. That Richmond, they say, is a reg’lar fighter—has science, and can lay out anybody of his size.”
“They will never know you said anything to me, Ned, for I shall take the usual way, and will be slow, so as to give them plenty of time to get there ahead of me.”
The little fellow looked wonderingly at Ben as he walked away, unable to comprehend how anyone should step into a yawning chasm after being warned of his peril.
CHAPTER XVAN AFFRAY AT NIGHT
Ben Mayberry was so desirous that Rutherford Richmond and his brother conspirator should be given all the time they needed to complete their scheme for waylaying and assaulting him, that he lingered on the road longer than was really necessary.
Finally he turned down the street, which crossed by the creek that ran through the center of Damietta. It was a clear moonlight night, and, except in the shadow, objects could be seen distinctly for a considerable distance. He advanced with great care, and with all his wits at command, for he was confident the warning given him by Ned Deering was well founded.
When within a block of the bridge he sawsomeone peep out of Carter’s Alley and instantly draw back his head, as though fearful of being observed. A moment later, a second person did the same. Rutherford Richmond and his confederate were on hand.
They did not look like the two boys as seen in the glare of Mr. Grandin’s parlors, for they had disguised themselves, so far as possible, with a view of preventing their recognition by the boy whom they meant to assault. They knew they were liable to get themselves into trouble by such an outrageous violation of law, and they meant to take all the precautions necessary.
Each had donned a long flapping overcoat, which must have belonged to some of the older members of the families, as it dangled about his heels. They also wore slouch hats like a couple of brigands, which they pulled down over their eyes, so as to hide their features. They had no weapons, for it was calculated that by springing upon Ben unawares theywould easily bear him to the pavement, when both would give him a beating which he would remember for a lifetime.
Ben was whistling softly to himself, and he was glad that at the late hour no one else was seen in the immediate neighborhood, for all he asked was a clear field and no favor.
As he walked by the open end of Carter’s Alley, he dimly discerned two figures, which seemed plastered against the wall in the dense shadow, where they were invisible to all passers-by, unless their suspicion was directed to the spot.
Ben gave no evidence that he noticed them, and moved along in his deliberate fashion, changing his whistling to a low humming of no particular tune; but he used his keen eyesight and hearing for all they were worth.
He had gone no more than a dozen feet beyond, when he heard a rapid but cautious footstep behind him. It increased in swiftness, and was instantly followed by a second. The twoboys were approaching him stealthily from the rear.
Still Ben walked quietly forward, humming to himself, and with no apparent thought of what was coming. Suddenly, when Richmond was in the very act of making a leap upon his shoulders, Ben turned like a flash, and planted a stunning blow directly in the face of the exultant coward, who was knocked on his back as if kicked by a vigorous mule.
His companion was at the elbow of Richmond when struck in this emphatic fashion, and for the instant was bewildered by the unexpected catastrophe. Before he could recover he imagined the comet which was expected at that season had caught him directly between the eyes, and he went backward over Richmond, with his two legs pointing upward, like a pair of dividers, toward the stars.
Ben’s blood was up, and he waited for the two to rise, intending to “lay them out” more emphatically than before. The lad whose namehe did not know lay still, but Rutherford recovered with remarkable quickness, and began struggling to his feet, without paying heed to his hat, which had rolled into the gutter.
“That ain’t fair to strike a fellow that way, when he ain’t expecting it,” growled the assassin. “Why didn’t you stand still like a man and not hit below the belt?”
“All right; I give you notice then, friend Rutherford, that I am going for you again, and this time above the belt.”
Richmond, finding he must fight, threw up his hands and did his best to guard against the blows whose force he knew so well. He did possess some knowledge of sparring, but so did Ben, who was much the stronger and more active of the two. He advanced straight upon Richmond, made several feints, and then landed a blow straight from the shoulder, at the same time parrying the cross-counter which the lad came near getting in on the face.
It so happened that, at that moment, theother young scamp was in the act of rising, and had got upon his hands and knees. As Richmond was sent spinning backward he came in collision with him, and turned a complete somersault, the air seeming to be full of legs, long hair, hats, and flapping overcoats.
“Murder! help! help! police! police!”
These startling cries were shouted at the top of their voices by the discomfited poltroons, and were heard a long distance on the still night. Suddenly the rattle of running feet sounded on the planks of the bridge, and Ben caught sight of a policeman running toward the spot.
“What does this mean?” he demanded, when he came face to face with Ben, whom he motioned to stop.
“Those two fellows attacked me when I was passing Carter’s Alley, and I—well, I defended myself as best I could.”
“Oh, Ben, that is you; I didn’t know you at first,” said the policeman. “This is rather serious business; I’ll run ’em in.”
Advancing to where the boys were once more climbing to their feet, he grasped each by the collar.
“I’ll take you along with me, young gents; this is serious business for you.”
They begged piteously to be let off, declaring that it was only a joke, but the officer was inexorable, and marched them to the station house, where they spent the rest of the night, Ben Mayberry having been notified to be on hand at nine o’clock the next morning, when the police justice would make an investigation.
CHAPTER XVITHE THIRD TELEGRAM
When the father of Rutherford Richmond’s friend, at whose house the young Bostonian was visiting, learned the facts, he was indignant beyond description. He declared that Ben Mayberry had served the young scapegraces right, except he ought to have punished both more severely, which was rather severe, as was shown by the blackened eyes and bruised faces.
Ben declined to push the matter on the morrow, as the boys had been punished, and he had proved he was able to take care of himself, as against them, at any time. But the gentleman insisted that he would not permit the matter to drop, unless his son and Rutherford agreed to go to the telegraph office and beg the pardonof the boy whom he learned they had insulted under Mr. Grandin’s roof. Rutherford and his friend consented, and they humiliated themselves to that extent. The succeeding day Rutherford went home to Boston, and did not reappear in Damietta until long afterward, when he hoped the disgraceful episode was forgotten.
On the following week Dolly Willard returned to New York, and Ben, for the first time in his life, began to feel as though his native city had lost a good deal of the sunshine to which it was entitled.
“She will visit Damietta again,” he said to himself, with just the faintest sigh, “and she promised to write me; I hope she won’t forget her promise.”
And, indeed, the sprightly little miss did not lose sight of her pledge. It may be suspected that she took as much pleasure in expressing on paper her warm friendship for Ben, as he did in reading the pure, honest sentiments, and inanswering her missives, which he did with great promptness.
It was just one week after the memorable night of the party, while I was sitting at my desk, that the following cipher dispatch came over the wires, addressed to G. R. Burkhill, Moorestown:
“Fwfszuijoh hr pl nm ujnf Sgtqdezw bu bnqmdq.Tom.”
“Fwfszuijoh hr pl nm ujnf Sgtqdezw bu bnqmdq.Tom.”
I passed the message to Ben, whose eyes sparkled as he took it in hand. It required but a few minutes for him to translate it by the method which has already been made known, and the following rather startling words came to light:
“Everything is O. K. On time Thursday at corner.”
“Everything is O. K. On time Thursday at corner.”
This unquestionably referred to the same unlawful project outlined in the former dispatches.Mr. Burkhill had not been in the office for months. As yet, of the three telegrams sent him, he had not received one. The first was lost in the river, the second had been on file more than half a year, and we now had the third.
But the latter did not lie uncalled for even for an hour. Remembering the instruction received from the manager, I took a copy of the message, with the translation written out by Ben, to the office of the mayor, where I laid the facts before him. This was on Wednesday, and the contemplated robbery was fixed for the following night. By his direction I sent a dispatch at once to the address of the detective in New York, who, it had been arranged, was to look after the matter.
The reply to this message was the rather surprising information that Detective Maxx had been in Damietta several days, and knew of the contemplated robbery. He was shadowing the suspected party, and if he deemed itnecessary, he would call on the mayor for assistance.
While I was absent from the office, who should walk in but Mr. G. R. Burkhill. He greeted Ben with much effusion, shaking him warmly by the hand, inquiring how he got along, and telling him that his niece sent her special regards to him.
“I have been on a trip to New Orleans,” he added, “or I would have been down in Damietta sooner, for I like the place.”
“The summer isn’t generally considered a good time to go so far south,” ventured Ben.
“That is true, as relates to Northerners, but I was born in the Crescent City, and have no fear of Yellow Jack; fact is, I have had the confounded disease myself. By the way, have you a message for me?”
“We have two, in fact I may say three, for the copy of the first one that went down the river with me has never been handed you, and one came a day or two after you left.”
“I know what they are, so you needn’t mind about them. I will take the last, if you please.”
“It arrived within the last half hour,” explained Ben, as he handed the damp sheet to him.
The boy watched his countenance while Burkhill was reading it. It took several minutes for him to study out its meaning, but he did so without the aid of pencil or paper. A strange glitter came into his gray eyes as the meaning broke upon him, and he muttered something to himself which the lad did not quite catch.
Then he turned to the desk, and was engaged only a minute or two when he handed a return message to Ben, paying for it as the man had done who forwarded the other to him. It was this:
“Uibu rthsr fybdumz Vhkk cf qdzex.“G. R. Burkhill.”
“Uibu rthsr fybdumz Vhkk cf qdzex.
“G. R. Burkhill.”
“G. R. Burkhill.”
Applying his rule (which compelled him to go to the end of the alphabet, when, for instance, the letter “a” demanded to be represented by a preceding letter), Ben Mayberry very readily translated the cipher as follows:
“That suits exactly. Will be ready.“G. R. Burkhill.”
“That suits exactly. Will be ready.
“G. R. Burkhill.”
“G. R. Burkhill.”
CHAPTER XVIIDECIDEDLY MIXED
During the summer succeeding the carrying away of the bridge which connected Damietta with Moorestown, it was built in a more substantial manner than before. It was an easy matter, therefore, to cross from one place to another, and carriages and pedestrians went back and forth between the two States at almost every hour of the day. Damietta was a large city, while Moorestown was only a small town; but the latter was pleasantly located and had a large and excellent hotel, where quite a number of guests spent the most sultry months of summer.
In Damietta were three banks, and the cipher telegrams which I have laid before the reader, beyond a doubt referred to one of them, but itwas impossible to fix with certainty upon the right one. As a matter of prudence, therefore, it was determined to keep the three under surveillance. The Mechanics’ Bank, as it was called before it adopted the national system, stood on the corner, and the general impression prevailed that this was the institution referred to, as it will be remembered that the word “corner” occurred in one of the telegrams.
A few minutes’ reflection convinced me that it was utterly out of the question for the intended robbery to succeed. Such desperate projects depend mainly on their secrecy for success. The watchmen in all the banks were instructed to be unusually vigilant, the policemen were apprised of what was suspected, a number of officers were to lounge upon the streets near at hand in citizens’ clothes, and Aristides Maxx, one of the most skillful detectives in the metropolis, was engaged upon the case.
The general belief was that the burglars, discovering what thorough preparations were on foot, would not make the attempt. That sort of gentry are not the ones to walk into any trap with their eyes open.
Respecting Detective Maxx, there was much wonderment, and the mayor was vexed that he did not show up. Some doubted his presence in Damietta, but the superior officer of the city felt that courtesy demanded that Maxx should report to him before trying to follow up any trail of his own. If he was with us, he was so effectually disguised that no one suspected his identity.
“I wonder whether that seedy, tramp-like fellow who stole the cipher dispatch, can be Detective Maxx?” said Ben to me on Wednesday night before he started for home.
“It is not impossible,” I answered, “for detectives are forced to assume all manner of disguises. He may have chosen to stroll about the city in that make-up.”
“But if it is the detective, why did he go to all the trouble of copying off the telegram by sound when he could have got it from us with the translation merely by making himself known?”
“I admit that, if he is a detective, he acts, in my judgment, in a very unprofessional way. He was so persistent in his attentions that he must have known he was sure to draw unpleasant, if not dangerous suspicion, to himself.”
“Do you know,” said Ben, with a meaning smile, “that I half believe this stranger and Burkhill are partners? They have been here at the same time, they show interest in the same thing, and like enough are working out the same scheme of robbery.”
This had never occurred to me, and I was struck with its reasonableness, when I came to think it over. The ill-favored individual signed the name “John Browning” to the dispatch which he sent some months before, asa pretext for visiting our office so much—but that was clearly an alias.
“Well,” said I, “it is all conjecture any way. With the ample warning the authorities have received, I do not believe there is the slightest prospect of a robbery being committed. I intend to retire to-morrow night at my usual hour with little fear of my slumbers being disturbed.”
A few minutes after, we bade each other good-night, and wended our way quietly homeward.
My experience was singular, after parting with my young friend—not meaning to imply that anything unusual occurred to me; but the mental processes to which I was subjected that evening, in the light of subsequent events, were very peculiar, to say the least.
I am convinced that the inciting cause was the remark made by Ben Mayberry to the effect that he believed the seedy individual was a confederate of Burkhill, and that the two wereperfecting a scheme for robbing one of the banks—most likely the Mechanics’.
“Ben is right,” I said to myself. “His bright mind has enabled him to grasp the truth by intuition, as a woman sometimes does when a man has been laboring for hours to reach the same point.”
But before I could satisfy myself that the boy was right, a still stronger conviction came to me that he was wrong. The men were not pals—as they are called among the criminal classes—and they were not arranging some plan of robbery.
While I was clear on this point, I was totally unable to form any theory to take the place of the one I had demolished.
Who was the pretended John Browning, and what was the dark scheme that was being hatched “in our midst,” as the expression goes?
These were the questions which presented themselves to me, and which I could not answerin a manner thoroughly satisfactory to myself.
“They are all wrong—everybody is wrong!” I exclaimed to myself; “whatever it is that is in the wind, no one but the parties themselves knows its nature.”
This was the conclusion which fastened itself in my mind more firmly the longer I thought.
“Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, and it is the only thing which will protect us in this case—helloa!”
So rapt was I in my meditation that I had walked three squares beyond my house before I awoke to the fact. It was something which I had never done before in all my life.
CHAPTER XVIIIBETWEEN TWO FIRES
In the meantime, Ben Mayberry underwent an experience more peculiar than mine.
I cannot speak of the mental problems with which he wrestled, but, as he explained to me afterward, he had settled down to the belief that the Mechanics’ Bank was the one against which the burglars were perfecting their plans. He was hopeful that the only outcome of the conspiracy would be the capture of the criminals, though he felt more than one pang when he reflected that the principal one was a relative of Dolly Willard, who was the personification of innocence and goodness to him.
Ben had acquired the excellent habit of always being wide awake, excepting, of course, when he lay down for real slumber. Thus itwas that he had gone but a little distance on his way home when he became aware that someone was following him.
I doubt whether there is a more uncomfortable feeling than that caused by such a discovery. The certainty that some unknown person, with no motive but a sinister one, is dodging at your heels, as the mountain wolf slinks along behind the belated traveler, awaiting the moment when he can spring upon him unawares, is enough to cause the bravest man to shiver with dread.
The night was very dark. The day had been cloudy, and there was no moon; but Ben was in a large city, with an efficient police system (that is, equal to the average), there were street lamps, the hour was not unusually late, and there were other persons beside himself abroad. And yet, in the heart of the metropolis, at the same hour, crimes have been perpetrated whose mystery has never been unraveled to this day.
Ben Mayberry may have felt somewhat uneasy, but there was not so much fear as there was curiosity to know what earthly reason any living man could have for following him in that stealthy fashion.
Surely no one could suspect him of being burdened with wealth. The only article of any account about his person was a silver watch, which had cost him sixteen dollars. He never carried a pistol, for he saw no necessity for doing so. If he should find himself beset by enemies who were too strong to be resisted, he could run as rapidly as any person in the city, and a short run in Damietta was enough to take him to a place of safety inaccessible to his assailants.
When he turned into the narrow street which led across the bridge where he had his affray with Rutherford Richmond and his companion, he reflected that it was perhaps the most dangerous spot in the neighborhood. There was a single lamp just before stepping on thebridge, where one might run against another before seeing him.
He hesitated a minute as he made the turn. It was easy enough to reach his home by a different route, which was somewhat longer, but which was well lighted all the way, and there could be little risk in taking it.
“I’ll stick to the usual way,” muttered Ben, striding resolutely forward; “I don’t believe anything like murder is contemplated.”
At that moment he would have felt much more comfortable had he possessed a pistol, or some kind of weapon, but he did not hesitate, now that he had “put his hand to the plow.”
A minute later he stepped on the bridge, where the gas lamp shone upon him, and, with his usual deliberate tread, passed off in the gloom of the other side. The instant he believed himself beyond sight of his pursuer, he quickened his gait but continually looked back in the hope of gaining a view of the man, for the boy was naturally eager to learn who itwas that was playing such a sinister trick on him.
Just beyond, on the limit of his field of vision, Ben saw a shadowy figure cross quickly, to the other side of the street. The stranger did this before coming within the glare of the lamp, which would have revealed him too plainly to those who might be curious to secure a glimpse of his features.
An instant later his footfall was heard on the bridge, and he was walking rapidly toward Ben, crossing again to the same side of the street, as soon as over the stream. The boy stepped lightly but briskly forward until he reached Carter’s Alley, into which he entered a couple of yards, and then came to a sudden halt.
At the moment of doing so, his foot struck something hard. He knew what it was, and, stooping down, picked up a large stone, which he held tightly grasped in his hand. Such a weapon was very formidable in the grip of avigorous boy, who could throw with the skill and accuracy of Ben Mayberry.
The lad had scarcely halted when he caught the tip, tip of his pursuer, who was evidently determined to overtake him before he reached the lighted regions beyond. Ben was astonished just then, to note that a second person was just approaching from the opposite direction in the same guarded fashion.
“It must be there are two of them,” was the sensible conclusion of the boy; “they have agreed to meet here, where I wouldn’t have much show against them.”
It followed that the party of the second part was waiting for the coming of young Mayberry, doubtless with the understanding that his partner in crime should follow him to a certain point near at hand, when the two would close in on him.
Ben had never suspected any such conspiracy as this, and, had he gone a little further, he would have walked directly into the arms ofthe second ruffian, while peering behind him at the shadowy villain who “still pursued him.”
But the lad had stopped short and disconcerted the plans of the conspirators by so doing. The one who was lying in wait was quick to miss the boy whom he had seen cross the bridge, and, suspecting something was wrong, he hastened stealthily toward the creek to learn the explanation.
CHAPTER XIXBAFFLED!
It so happened that the two men stopped directly at the mouth of the alley, within a few feet of Ben Mayberry, who could hear their guarded words, though he could not catch the first glimpse of their figures.
A whistled signal or two first made them certain of each other’s identity, and then the one who had crossed the bridge gave utterance to an oath, expressive of his anger, as he demanded:
“Where has he gone?”
“How should I know?” growled the other. “I waited where you told me to wait, and finding he didn’t come, I moved down to meet him, but he don’t show up.”
“’Sh! Not so loud. He can’t be far off.”
“I don’t know how that is, but he’s given us the slip. There’s an alley right here, and he has turned into that.”
“I don’t hear him.”
“Of course not. Because he’s standing still and listening to us.”
“Flash your bull’s-eye into the alley.”
When Ben Mayberry heard this order he trembled, as well he might, for he was so close to the scoundrels that the first rays of the lantern would reveal him to them. Indeed he dare not move, lest the noise, slight as it was, would bring them down on him.
He grasped the ragged stone in his hand and braced himself for the explosion that he was sure was at hand.
But fortunately, and most unexpectedly, the crisis passed. The other villain growled in return:
“What do you mean by talking about a bull’s-eye? I doused the glim long ago.”
“Why did you do that?”
“The cops are watching us too close. I had hard work to dodge one of ’em to-night. Do you s’pose I meant to have him find any of the tools on me? Not much.”
The other emitted another sulphurous expression, and added the sensible remark:
“Then there’s no use of our hanging around here. He’s smelt a mice and dodged off, and we won’t get another such a chance to neck him.”
These words sounded very strange to Ben Mayberry. Well might he ask himself what earthly purpose these scamps could have in wishing to waylay him in such a dark place, where he was not likely to secure help. The latter part of their conversation proved they contemplated violence.
“There’s one thing certain,” Ben said to himself, “if I manage to get out undiscovered, I will see that I am prepared for such gentlemen hereafter.”
The couple suddenly stopped talking, for thesound of approaching footsteps were heard. The two moved into the alley, and a minute after a heavy man came ponderously along with a rolling tread. He was puffing at a cigar, whose end glowed so brightly that the tip of his nose and his mustache were seen by the three standing so near him. Ben believed the wretches intended to assault and rob the citizen, and doubtless they were none too good to do so. In case the attempt was made, Ben meant to hurl the stone in his hand at the spot where he was sure they were, and then yell for the police.
Policy alone prevented the commission of the crime.
“We could have managed it easily,” whispered one, as the portly citizen stepped on the bridge and came in sight under the lamp-light, “but I guess it was as well we didn’t.”
“No; it wouldn’t have paid as matters stand. We might have made a good haul, but the excitement to-morrow would have been such thatwe wouldn’t have had a show to-morrow night.”
The heart of the listening Bob gave a quick throb, for this was another proof of the intended crime on Thursday evening.
“Well,” added one, “that telegraph fellow was too smart for us this time, and has given us the slip. We may as well go home, for there’s nothing more to do.”
Thereupon they began walking toward the creek, with the deliberate tread of law-abiding citizens, who, if encountered anywhere on the street at any hour, would not have been suspected of being “crooked.”
Ben Mayberry had good cause for feeling indignant toward these ruffians, who clearly intended personal violence toward him, and who were, in all probability, desperadoes from the metropolis, brought into Damietta for the most unlawful purposes.
When they had gone a short distance, Ben stepped out of the alley upon the main street,and stood looking toward the bridge. This was slightly elevated, so that in approaching from either side, one had to walk up-hill. The illumination from the lamp, of which I have made mention, gave a full view of the structure itself and all who might be upon it. Ben saw his pursuer, in the first place, when he stepped on the planks, but the light was at his back, and he shrouded his face so skillfully that not a glimpse was obtained of his features.
In a few minutes the conspirators slowly advanced out of the gloom and began walking up the slight ascent toward the bridge, becoming more distinct each second. When they reached the middle of the structure, they were in plain sight, but their backs were toward Ben, who, however, had them where he wanted them.
“I think I can plug one of them,” muttered the shortstop of the Damietta club, as he carefully drew back his arm and fixed his eye on the fellows. “At least, here goes.”
Gathering all his strength and skill, he hurled the stone at the one who, he believed, had been lying in wait for him. The whizzing missile shot through the air like a cannon-ball, and landed precisely where the thrower intended, directly between the shoulders of the unsuspecting villain, who was thrown forward several paces by the force of the shock, and who must have been as much jarred as though an avalanche had fallen on him.
CHAPTER XXWATCHING AND WAITING
What imaginings were driven into the head of the ruffian by the well-directed missile it would be impossible to say, but it is safe to conclude he was startled.
His hat fell off, and, without stopping to pick it up, he broke into a frantic run, closely followed by his companion, neither of them making the least outcry, but doubtless doing a great deal of thinking.
Ben Mayberry laughed until his sides ached, for the tables had been turned most completely on his enemies; but he became serious again when he wended his way homeward, for there was much in the incidents of the day to mystify and trouble him.
His mother had retired when he reached hishouse, but there was a “light in the window” for him. The fond parent had such faith in her son that she did not feel alarmed when he was belated in coming home.
Ben made a confidante of her in many things, but the truth was he was outgrowing her. She was a good, devout lady, but neither mentally nor physically could she begin to compare with her boy.
Had he made known to her the contemplated robbery, or his own narrow escape from assault, she would have become nervous and alarmed.
Ben did not tell her about the affray with Rutherford Richmond and his companion, for it would only have distressed her without accomplishing any good.
He saw that his terrible adventure the preceding winter, on the wrecked bridge, had shocked her more than many supposed, and more than she suspected herself. The consequences became apparent months afterward,and caused Ben to do his utmost to keep everything of a disquieting nature from his beloved mother.
On the morrow Ben told me the whole particulars of his adventures on the way home, and asked me what I made of it.
“I give it up,” I answered. “It’s beyond my comprehension.”
“Do I look like a wealthy youth?” he asked, with a laugh.
“It is not that; they have some other purpose.”
“Do they imagine I carry the combination to some safe in the city, and do they mean to force it from me?”
“Nothing of that sort, as you very well know. It looks as if they really meditated doing you harm.”
“There is no room for doubt; and it was a lucky thing, after all, that the night was so dark, and the city don’t furnish many lamps in that part of the town. Do you think Iought to tell the mayor or some officer about this?”
“Could you identify either of the men if you should meet him on the street?”
“I could not, unless I was allowed to examine his back, where the stone landed.”
“Then there’s no use of telling anyone else, for no one could help you. You had better carry a pistol, and take a safer route home after this. One of these days, perhaps, the whole thing will be explained, but I own that it is altogether too much for any fellow to find out just now.”
It was natural that I should feel nervous the entire day, for there was every reason to believe we were close upon exciting incidents, in which fate had ordered that Ben Mayberry and myself would have to make the initial movements.
Neither Burkhill, the tramp-like looking individual, nor any character to whom the least suspicion could attach, put in an appearance atthe telegraph office during the day; this was another disappointment to Ben and myself.
The mayor also was disposed to be uncommunicative, for when I dropped in on him during the afternoon, he was short in his answers, barely intimating that everything was in a satisfactory shape. When asked whether Detective Maxx had revealed himself, he said:
“I have seen nothing of him, and do not care to see him. His help is not needed.”
I am convinced that the action of the famous detective had a great deal to do with the ill-humor of the mayor, who was generally one of the most affable of men.
I was pretty well used up, and at eleven o’clock I closed the office and went home, separating as usual from Ben Mayberry, who, I was satisfied, intended to know whether anything was amiss before he lay down to slumber.
Although the impression was general that it was the Mechanics’ Bank which was the objective point of the conspirators, yet the chiefof police, as I have intimated, had stationed his men so as to be ready for instant use, should it prove to be any one of the moneyed institutions.
Ben Mayberry was so well satisfied that it was the Mechanics’ that, after leaving me, he went in that direction, anxious to see a first-class burglary attempted and foiled.
The institution, it will be remembered, stood on the corner of one of the main streets, and a lamp was burning directly opposite. The cashier reported that two suspicious characters had called during the day and made some inquiries about drafts on New York, and the officers, who had spent much time in the neighborhood, were convinced that they had seen the same individuals stealthily viewing the bank from the outside.
When Ben reached the vicinity he saw no person, although he well knew that in almost every dark nook and hiding place, a guardian of the law was stationed, quietly awaiting themoment when the lawbreakers would dare show themselves. Ben knew, too, that more than one pair of eyes carefully scrutinized him as they did every pedestrian who passed.
He continued along until he reached a point where he could stand without being noticed by anyone. Then he stopped, and, wide awake as ever, resolved that he would see the thing out if he was forced to stand where he was until the rising of the sun on the morrow.