Читать книгу: «Wizard Will, the Wonder Worker», страница 4

CHAPTER XII. – The Boy Captive

LET me beg the kind reader, who has followed me through my story thus far, to recall an important personage who was left a prisoner in the hands of a band of wicked men who were evidently hiding from the officers of the law.

In that boy captive the reader has doubtless recognized Will Raymond, for his mother had not taught him the name of his father, Schuyler Cluett.

When he had been addressed upon the street by a gentleman, and sent on an important mission, he had been entrapped, for his face and age just suited a purpose that was to be carried out through him.

What that purpose was will soon be made known.

The time of Will's capture was some months after the flight of the mother with her children from the elegant country mansion of Colonel Richard Ivey.

So well had Mrs. Raymond, as I must now again call her, concealed herself, that the police and detectives, put upon her track by Colonel Ivey, had been unable to find her where abouts, and it was believed that she had left New York for another place.

In an humble home, in a cheaper quarter of the city, the poor woman had found an abiding-place, for it could not be called a home.

The rooms were but three in number, and not so pleasant as those where she had lived in poverty before; but they were kept scrupulously clean, and were not uncomfortable.

As soon as she was fully settled, Mrs. Raymond paid her rent for six months in advance; then she laid in a store of provisions, and purchasing painting materials, again began to paint little pictures for sale, for she had but a small sum left of that which she had brought with her, and she must begin to earn more, she knew.

But the shock of her husband's return, as though from the grave, had been a severe one, and she felt that she was by no means as well as she could wish.

Gradually her nerves failed her, the mainsprings of life, and she became almost a confirmed invalid, unable to do but little.

Will and Pearl had again began attending the nearest public school, but, as the spring drew near and Mrs. Raymond's health failed her more and more, her little daughter had remained at home with her, while her brave boy had given up his studies to earn what money he could, and this was but little, hardly enough to give them food, and, but for Mrs. Raymond having paid the rent, it would not have been sufficient to meet all demands, moderate as they were.

It was while Will was skirmishing around in search of a stray penny to earn, that he had struck what had appeared to him a "bonanza," in the promise of a couple of dollars for delivering a letter and keeping his mouth shut, at the same time afflicting himself with loss of memory, as the one who paid him for his alleged services had demanded that he should.

When, therefore, Will found himself a prisoner, the reader can well imagine his feelings.

Brave boy that he was, his first thought was of his sick mother's distress at his absence, and his second of himself.

It flashed upon him, from the words of Jerry, the Night Hawk, the secret manner of his gaining admission, the letter which had led him into a trap, that he was meant for some mysterious purpose of villainy.

The room in which he found himself had but one door, that by which he had entered, and the ceiling ran up with the peaked roof, in which were skylights for light and air.

It was a large room, occupying one side of the house, excepting where the little ante-chamber, or hall-way was taken off, and about the sides were baths such as one sees in a steamboat's cabin.

A cupboard was in one end of the room, filled with dishes, and next to it was a dumb-waiter that came up from the lower depths somewhere.

On the opposite side a door was opened to what appeared to be another cupboard, but in which Will saw at a glance a ladder, leading to an open skylight above.

In the centre of the room was a large table with chairs about it, and seated in various attitudes about it were a dozen men, who scowled viciously upon the boy as he was dragged into their presence by Jerry, the Night Hawk.

But Will, in spite of his perilous position, kept up a brave manner.

"What did ther kid come here for?" asked a man with a scowling face.

"Captain Cruel sent him, and writes that he'll do for the little job to play on the Philadelphia man whose son died on our hands, and thus cut us out o' the reward," said Night Hawk Jerry, who seemed to be leader of the band of ruffians.

"He looks it sart'in, and I thought it were Billy come ter life ag'in when I seen his face; but will he do it?"

"He'll have to, Jack, or – " and the look and action of Night Hawk Jerry were most significant, and did not escape the eyes of Will Raymond.

CHAPTER XIII. – Put to the Test

BEFORE more could be said by any of the band, a bell rang over in the dumb-waiter, and two men at once stepped to the cupboard and began to place dishes upon the table, preparatory to having supper.

Will was told to sit down on a chair, and the coming meal, rather than the boy prisoner, seemed to occupy the thoughts of the rude gathering. By the time that the table was set, with a plate, knife, fork, teacup and spoon for each, and a dish of butter and large bowl of sugar in the centre, a second ring came at the dumb-waiter, and up from the depths below appeared the supper.

The two men, whose duty it seemed, put the supper on the table, and it was by no means a repast to be refused, for there was hot coffee, milk, hot biscuit, steak, potatoes and preserves.

Will was told to "Take a seat youngster, and pitch in, for you don't know how soon yer rations will be cut short."

He had eaten but a light breakfast, and nothing since, so he obeyed the injunction with a gusto, winning the admiration of the men at his pluck in not losing his appetite when his fate hung so in the balance of uncertainty.

But Will had made up his mind that though he was in a tight place, he would not despair, but find some way to get out, and the means of doing so did not worry him until the time came for action.

He had read the papers, and he knew that almost under the eyes of the police there were bands of evil men who would rob and kill without mercy to gain gold.

That he had fallen into the hands of some such wicked men he did not doubt; but he did not despair of working out his own salvation in some way, when he was assured just what their game was that they intended to win by playing him as a trump card.

So Will ate his supper with apparent relish, and rising, thanked them politely and resumed his former seat.

"You've been well raised, boy," said Jerry. "What is your name?"

"Will Raymond, sir," said the boy, returning to his old name, for while with the colonel he had taken that of Ivey, at his request.

"What do you do?"

"Anything I can earn money at to support my sick mother and little sister."

"Well, how would you like to become a rich man's son?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"The captain sent you here because you resembled somebody, didn't he?"

"He gave me a letter to bring to you, and said you would give me two dollars for doing the errand."

"Well, that was a bait to get you here; but if you do as I say, you'll do better by far than make two dollars."

"What must I do?"

"Do you see this photograph?" and he held up a picture before Will of a small boy, perhaps seven years of age.

"Yes, sir."

"This photograph looks just as you did six years ago, and then your name was Willie Rossmore. Your home was in Baltimore, or rather near it, and these are photographs of the place, and a handsome one it was.

"You went out in the grounds, just here, running away from your nurse, and two men, passing along the highway in a buggy, took you with them.

"They carried you far away, treated you well, and took you to a farm in the West, where one day I found you, and you told me your story and I immediately recognized you as a boy stolen years ago, and whose photograph I had often seen published in the papers.

"Your father, Mr. Rossmore, is a very rich man, and he has offered fifty thousand dollars for your return, and I will get it.

"Now, my boy, I wish you to study these photographs of your old home, and here is the name of the servants who were at the house then, and your nurse was an old coloured woman, Auntie Peggy.

"These are the clothes you had on when you were stolen; they are ragged now, for you wore them a long time, and when you got others you kept these. You had this ring on your forefinger then, but you can wear it now on your left hand little finger – see, it just fits."

"What has become of the real little boy that was stolen?" asked Will, quietly.

The men all exchanged peculiar glances with each other, and one said: "Tell him, Jerry, so that he'll know we won't stand any nonsense."

"Well, he would not behave as we wished him to, and he would remember too much, and so we dared not take him back to get the reward, you see."

"And is he dead?"

"You've hit it, he is, for one day he left our camp, as we were crossing the prairie in Nebraska, not very many miles from Fort McPherson, and we found him lying under a solitary tree, mighty near dead from starvation; and he died, and we buried him there, cutting his name into the tree, as a monument, as any emigrant folks would who had lost a young one.

"Poor little fellow, he had better have done as you wished, and so been able to get home."

"Boy, you've got wisdom above your years, and you'll play our little game for us with a handful of trumps and a card or two up your sleeve, I can tell you.

"I guess you've been nipped by hunger, and wish a soft thing of it for life, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you'll talk our way, won't you?"

"Oh, yes, sir; only it will be very sad for my poor mother and sister to lose me."

"No, for you can write them that you had a chance to go West, and I'll take the letter and some money to them, and you bet we'll keep them from want and send them lots of things, while if you don't like it where you go, you can just skip out after you've got together a nice little sum of money, for we don't care so long as we get the reward for your return, and you shall have five thousand of that, for I'll keep you posted where we are, and you can have the money any time you call for it."

"This looks fair, sir; but I hate to leave my mother and little sister, though I do want to make money."

"Well, you write your mother a letter, and I'll see that she gets it to-morrow, and I'll put a cool fifty in it for her, too.

"Now, write your letter, and then study over those photographs, this list of names, and the lesson I have here for you," and Jerry handed Will various slips of paper.

"Now, lad," he continued, "if you play this game right, you'll get all I say; but if you play us false, you'll be knifed sure, so just bear that in mind."

"I don't wish to die, and I'd rather be rich than poor, if I can take care of my mother and sister, and they don't find out I am deceiving them."

"They'll never know it, lad, and it was a lucky find the captain made in you, for you look just what we want, and have got the sense to play the game through.

"I tell you, though, we had a time with Willie Rossmore, up to his death three years ago, for we had to travel about with him, hide him, watch him, and were going to take him to an Indian camp to live for a year or so to make him forget, when he ran off and died on the prairie. But you look like him exactly, though you are older by a year or so, but that don't make any difference. Now there's a pen and ink, and here's your lesson to study, while we play a game of cards."

Will sat down at a shelf that served as a desk, and began to "study his lesson," as Night Hawk Jerry had called it.

He wrote a letter to his mother, and at last the men began to turn in, each one going to his bunk, while the boy was also given one, and crawling into the berth, appeared to be sound asleep, while the last man retiring put out the lamp, and only the light from the stars, twinkling through the skylights, pervaded the large room, and the sonorous breathing of the sleepers soon showed that, guilty beings though they were, no twinges of conscience kept them awake.

CHAPTER XIV. – Will Plays his little Game

LYING in his little bunk, which was an upper one, Will Raymond did not go to sleep.

He saw the men drop off one by one, from their card playing, he watched the last one up draw on the ropes, to raise the skylights and let in more air, and, as he came to the one near him, he feared he was going to see if he was asleep, so he closed his eyes and breathed hard.

But the man drew on the rope, that raised the skylight, some ten feet above Will's head, and then putting out the lamp he went to bed.

Still gazing upward Will saw the stars fade from view, and the skylights rattled, showing that the clouds had obscured the sky and a wind was springing up.

Until all seemed to be asleep, Will lay quiet as a mouse; then he bent over the edge of his bunk and looked about him.

Raising himself then to a kneeling posture, he saw that the ladder, before referred to as going up to a skylight, was right by the foot of his berth.

Softly he arose, grasped one of the rounds and drew himself up.

Without the slightest sound he ascended the ladder, crept up through the skylight and found himself upon the peak of the high roof.

Standing up he glanced about him, and his eye fell upon nothing but roofs.

He saw that the building on which he stood ran back some distance from the street, was very high, narrow, and ended fifty feet away in a large chimney.

On each side of the sharp roof were slats, a foot from the top, evidently placed there to serve as foot guards in a walk toward the chimney.

The clouds, black as night, were now flying low, and skurrying along before an approaching storm. The lightning came in vivid flashes, and it was enough to appall the heart of a seaman, there on that high perch, where the slightest misstep would hurl him to death, the tremour of a nerve would dash him to his doom.

But there was death behind him, sure, and a struggle against death before him, with chances of the boy's triumph, so he held on in his determination to escape.

He knew that the men had placed those slats along the roof for some purpose, and that there was a way to escape from the roof he did not doubt, so he determined to find it.

With the bundle at his back, tied with a string about his waist, bare-headed, bare-footed, jacketless, the brave boy stood on the dangerous perch, to return to the outlaw band certain death, to advance a chance for life, while the lightning fairly blinded him, with its vividness.

Step by step the boy advanced toward the chimney, for he dared not tarry there long, as any moment the storm might awaken the Land Sharks, as Will had heard the band speak of themselves, and, if missed, he would be pursued and taken.

But he had arranged his bedding so as to look like a form in his berth, and placed his jacket, shoes and hat so as to be seen, if he was suspected, which he did not believe.

As he took the first step the rain began to descend in torrents, and a sound behind him caused him to turn his head quickly.

He saw that the skylights were being lowered by someone in the room and he breathed more freely as he felt that he had not been discovered.

But the rain driving into his face, blinded him, as he had no hat to shelter his eyes, and the slats and roof being wet, rendered his position far more perilous.

But on he went, step by step, until he reached the chimney. It was breast high to him, and he noticed that it was very large.

From there down to the ground was a long way, and he saw no means of descending.

Perhaps upon the other side there was a ladder, he thought, and again it came to his mind that the men might have a rope ladder to bring with them.

If this was the case he was doomed, and, the thought in spite of the driving cold rain made him break out into a dense perspiration.

Leaping upon the chimney, for his experience as an amateur sailor had helped him, and he had often gone on board ships at the wharf and ascended to the highest point he could reach, he gazed over the side of the brickwork to see if there was aught to aid his descent.

But he saw that the roof was even with the chimney, so no ladder could go down it.

"They must hook a rope-ladder into the chimney in some way," he muttered, and he ran his hand around inside to find the hook, determined to tear his clothing in strips and make a rope, so that he might escape.

"Ah!" he said, as his hand touched a piece of iron.

"A ladder inside," he cried, joyously, as he felt rods of iron going down as far as he could reach. Instantly he lowered himself into the chimney and commenced the descent.

Feeling with his feet he found the rods, two feet apart, and down he went into the gloom.

One thing was certain, the chimney was not used as a smoke-conductor, for there was no soot in it. Down, down he went into the darkness, only a shadowy light showing the opening in the top of the chimney.

He had counted twenty rods, and so knew that he must have descended some forty feet.

Then his feet touched bottom, and turning, he saw the glimmer of a light through a crack.

Stooping, he gazed through the crack and looked out into a room dimly lighted, the gas being turned down low.

He saw that a fire-board hid the open chimney in which he stood, and moving it out he beheld the interior of the room distinctly.

There were two windows, one on either side of the fire-place, and he heard the wind rattling the sashes furiously, and the rain pattering viciously against the panes of glass.

There was a stove before him, but it was evidently there for show, as the smoke-stack entered the chimney, yet no soot was in it, which proved that a fire could not have been lighted in it.

A table with books on it, some pictures on the walls, a clothes-press, and over on one side of a door was a bed, while horrors! there was a man in it!

The occupant of the bed was asleep, that was certain, his face turned toward the wall, as Will could see by the dimly-burning gas-jet over the table.

To escape, the boy saw that his only chance was to get out of his hiding-place, cross the room, unlock the door, and thus get out; but when out of the room would he be free?

This was the startling question he asked himself, as he grasped the fireguard to push it one side, determined to at once make the venture, for he did not know at what moment he might find a pursuer coming down the chimney on his track.

CHAPTER XV. – The Boy Guide

THE reader can fully appreciate the peril of Will when they know what was behind him, and that he had a room, unknown to him, and with an occupant asleep in it, to cross, before he got out, while he little knew where the door would lead him, or whether he would be any nearer escape than where he then was.

Cautiously he raised the fireboard from within and began to move it outwardly as though it swung on a hinge.

He did this noiselessly, and soon had space enough to get through.

This he did and rose to a standing posture, the little bundle still at his back.

Then he put the fireboard back in its place and stepped forward.

The floor creaked and startled him, and he walked quickly to the door.

As he reached it the sleeper started, turned in bed, raised his head, and glanced toward the window, while he muttered: "What a deuce of a storm is raging."

Then back dropped his head, and he did not see the boy crouching down within two feet of him, and who held, grasped firmly and ready for use, a boot-jack, that his hand accidently touched.

Had the man attempted to get out of bed, or had he glanced toward the boy, he would have felt the weight of the boot-jack, for Will was determined to escape at all hazards, even if he had to strike at human life, for he did not doubt, coming to this room as he had from the den of the Land Sharks, that the occupant was one of the band.

But, fortunately for the man he dropped off to sleep again, and fortunately, too, for Will, who might have made a miss blow and then been killed or captured.

As soon as the heavy breathing of the man indicated that he was once more asleep, Will turned to the door and placed his hand upon the key. He turned it slowly in the lock, and yet it creaked loudly to his ears; but the noise of the storm without drowned the sound as far as waking the sleeper was concerned.

Taking hold of the knob he drew back the latch, and moved the door. It creaked loudly, so he shut it to quickly as he saw the man move uneasily. He kept still, and the man once more breathed naturally in his slumber.

Drawing the key from the door Will then opened it quickly and stepped outside, closed it after him, though trembling at the loud creaking sound it made.

At the same time he thrust the key in the door and turned it, just as he heard the man spring out of bed.

Where he was he did not know, for all was blackness about him, but he at once moved away from the door, feeling his way cautiously, while he could hear the occupant of the room moving hastily about, and then grasp the knob of the door.

A smothered curse followed the words: "The key is gone!"

Then there was a shaking of the door, and Will nearly fell down a flight of stairs; but caught himself on the rail.

As he hastily descended there appeared a crescent-shaped light before him, and he knew that it was over a door, and a moment after he reached it.

It was locked, but the key was on the inside and hastily he turned it, and he could hardly restrain a shout of joy as he found himself out in the street.

The storm was at its height, the rain was pouring in torrents and the narrow street was flooded; but the daring boy cared little for that and turning noted the house and number.

Then he darted away, unmindful of the rain.

At the corner he saw the name of the street, and once more pressed on, seemingly acquainted with the locality and aiming for a certain point.

Not even a policeman was seen out in that driving rain, so the boy met no human being as he ran along up to his ankles in water.

Here and there a light burned dimly, evidently in some sick-room, and all else was darkness, excepting the flickering street-lamps at the corners. Turning into another street he came in sight of a coloured lamp, jutting out from a large brick house.

Toward this he ran and a moment after, dripping wet, bare-headed, shoeless and jacketless he darted into a room where sat several officers in police uniform, while one wearing the badge of a captain of the force sat behind a desk in a small adjoining room.

The boy appeared like an apparition to the officers, but he gave them no time for thought, as he said: "Is not that Sergeant Daly?" and he pointed to the officer in the other room.

"Yes, it is Captain Daly, for he's been promoted," answered an officer.

"Ho, Murphy, any one to see me?" called out the captain.

"Yes, sir, a boy that looks as if he'd just swum across East river," was the reply.

"Ah! I know that face, you are Will Raymond, who captured the convict for me over a year ago," said Captain Daly coming out.

"Yes, sir, and I've come to tell you a strange story, and guide you to the den of a band of outlaws that call themselves Land Sharks for I just escaped from them," and Will spoke quickly, though with not a particle of excitement in his manner and voice, so well did he control his feelings.

The name of Land Sharks caused the police present to gather near at once and appear deeply interested, while Captain Daly said: "If you know the hiding-place of that gang, my lad, you know more than any policeman or detective in New York has been able to find out."

"I do know it, sir, and two ways of getting there; but what you do, you must do now, as they will escape, so I'll tell you all I can while you get your men ready, and there are over a dozen in the band."

"Murphy, call up twenty men and a sergeant at once."

"Now, Master Will, for you see I have not forgotten your name, let me have your story."

In as few words as possible, Will told of his having been stopped by a well-dressed stranger and then sent to the den of the Land Sharks, as an excuse to get him into their clutches.

His manner of getting there, and his reception he made known, together with his acquiescence, as the outlaw supposed, in their plot to get the reward offered for Willie Rossmore, the little son of the Baltimore millionaire.

His escape, bringing with him in a bundle, the photographs, and well-worn clothing the kidnapped boy had on when taken, he also made known, and they were displayed before the police captain, who said: "These can wait, and will dry by the time we get back; but Will, you are a natural born detective, and you shall have work as such, that will keep your mother and sister from want; but here are my men, my brave boy, and we will start at once – ho! I forgot that you were wet and shivering but I'll soon make you comfortable."

An order to an attendant brought from a package room a thick suit and india-rubber coat, into which the boy had no difficulty in getting, as they were nearly double his size, and a policeman's hat sheltered his head.

Then, side by side with Captain Daly, and with a score of policemen following, they stepped out into the driving rain to go upon the raid against the Land Sharks.