KESS’ “tog fighdt” wasn’t up to his expectations, either in its manner or in its finish.
An interminable time passed before anything occurred, and then Villum had to start it. The room was vacated, the lights were out, and it was deathly cold. Dickey had put up his shutters, locked his doors, and had gone home. The time was wearing on toward morning, and still the man behind Kess underthe cot lay there, with no more movement than if he had died or had been turned to stone.
Villum crawled out at last, in desperation. He had long been expecting a knife in his back or a revolver shot.
“Yoost der same I know you, uff you ton’dt sbeak idt,” he announced. “I haf got a rewolver vot iss full uff bullets to idts neck, unt uff you shoodt me I vill shoodt you likevise undil you ar-re deadt. So, you come oudt uff idt kvick!”
When the man did not come out, nor move, nor speak, Villum solemnly scratched a match on his trousers and flung it, flaming, under the cot, at the imminent risk of setting the cot and the house on fire.
The instant dying out of the match was followed by an earthquake; the light cot rose violently in air, and, whirling over, it fell on Villum, bringing him to the floor in a smother of bed clothing.
While he struggled to throw off the bed coverings and mattress, Villum heard the man unbar and fling aside a shutter and smash a window; they were resounding crashes, and the breaking of the window was accompanied by a tinkling fall of glass.
Villum had rammed one foot through the wire mesh of the bed springs, and felt like a wolf in a trap; but he scrambled toward the window, where he now saw the starlight and the man climbing up to escape; Villum was dragging the bed springs with him, and the greater part of the coverings of the cot.
“No you ton’dt escabe me!” he cried, and made a sweeping reach with his hands.
Though he was thrown down by the dragging weight of the bed springs, he clutched the man by the coat tails, and when, in his desperation, the man flung himself through to the ground, one of the tails of his coat remained in Villum’s hands.
Compelled to free his foot before he could do more, Villum began a furious fight with the bed springs; and by this he was so delayed that, when he, too, was ready to scramble out through the broken window the man was a hundred yards off, running through the darkness of the night.
But Kess picked himself up pluckily after his tumble and started in hot pursuit; and, forgetting that explanations would be demanded and would be awkward to give, he began at the same time to bellow for help.
As he thus plunged along in wild chase, Villum saw another figure appear beyond the street corner; there was a loud demand on the fleeing man to halt.
“Stop right where ye be; I’m the constable! Stop, I tell yeou!”
The man whirled about and lifted his hand; there was a pistol report and a flash of fire.
It was the constable who stopped, though the bullet had not touched him; and the man went on, running faster than ever.
The sight of the constable and that revolver play put the thought of discretion into Villum’s wild head; he swung about as the man made off and sprinted for the cover of the darkness by Dickey’s.
Gale, the constable, stood hesitating. Here were two escaping burglars, as he supposed, both armed and in a shooting mood. While the constable hesitated, Kess got the house between himself and Gale and flung wildly ahead for the protecting darkness beyond.
Villum ran down the length of the parade ground, then veered toward the lake. Reflecting that he was making telltale tracks, he turned off to the beaten road, along which he continued his flight. He ran until he could run no longer.
“Yiminy!” he panted, when he stopped. “I am deadt! Vunce in derhouse I am so coldt I am freezing, undt now I am so mooch uff a varmness dot I vandt to lay down unt valler in der snow. Budt dot vouldt be to gommidt susancide mit rheumonia. I got to keeb going until I feel petter.”
Villum kept going until he reached the boathouse. Crawling under its lee, and making sure no one was around, he struck another match and took a look at the coat tail he had appropriated.
“Der goat dail uff a Fardale feller,” he said. “Idt iss prove dot he vos der Hindu murterer. Idt iss easy to seen vhy he ditn’t vant der gonstable to watch him. Sure! Kadir Dhin is subblying him mit his clodings.”
About daylight Kess made his way into the village, where he sought shelter with a German friend, to whom he made suitable, though false, explanations. There he had breakfast, after he had had a few winks of sleep. As the German did not mention the break at Dickey’s, Kess concluded it had not yet been noised around.
Villum found not much difficulty in smuggling himself, without attracting attention, into the Fardale buildings when the proper time came. He made his way up to Chip’s room.
He burst in on Chip and Clancy, waving the tail of the coat as if it were a banner of victory.
“Yoost seen dot!” he said. “I haf peen having adwentures. Fairst idt iss a tog fighdt, unt afdher idt der ticktograft, unt anodder fighdt vhen der bed sbrings holdt me by der foodt undt I am sdopping der Hindu murterer from gedding oudt uff der vinder, unt——”
“Help! Help!” Chip shouted. “Take a long breath and start over again. What has happened?”
“I haf!” Kess exploded, waving the coat tail.
Breathless, he dropped into a chair.
“Idt iss der mix-oop mit der Hindu unt der pedt springs unt eferyt’ing, vhile I am blaying der ticktograft at Dickey’s. Yoost you lisden vhile I exblanadtion idt; but der Hindu he got avay.”
It was a funny story, as Kess told it; a serious one, too, though the theory that the man who had been under the cot was the Hindu murderer seemed incredible.
“Who sdole der clodings oudt uff der parracks?” Villum demanded, in an argumentative tone.
“We don’t know,” said Clan, who was looking at the piece of cloth Villum had brought in.
“You ton’dt t’ink dot vos a Fardale veller vot I pulled dot tail feadther oudt uff?” said Villum.
“N-o. Yet, we can’t say it wasn’t.”
“You undt Chip haf been susbicioning Kadir Dhin. Budt he vas in der room dalking mit der odder vellers vhile der man iss behint me by der vall under der cot. You exblanadtion me vot iss der meanness.”
“We shan’t know much until we know more,” said Clan.
“Vell, vot do you t’ink uff dhem odder t’ings?” Villum demanded, addressing Chip. “Uff you ar-re to be hypnotized by Kadir Dhin, unt made a indoxicadtion by Carson, unt all der resdt uff idt, you petter be geddting readty to meedt it, heh? Vot? Oddervise, vot goot do I do by running dot riskiness uff blaying der ticktograft?”