Читать книгу: «Fritz to the Front, or, the Ventriloquist Scamp-Hunter», страница 4

CHAPTER VII.
THE STRUGGLE

Both were strong, active men, Fritz in particular being well supplied with all the necessary muscle and agility of the prize-fighter, although he by no means looked as if he was an "ugly customer" to handle.

After clinching the two men soon tripped and fell to the floor, where the struggle literally began in all its meaning.

"Oh! I'll show ye how ther howlin' porpoise fights!" Bully Jake roared, endeavoring to get a bite at Fritz's nose. "I'll chaw ye all up like a dish o' hash!"

"Vil, you, dough!" Fritz cried, finally getting his hands free, and clinching them around the bully's throat tightly. "I'll pet yoost a half-dollar you von't do noddings off der kind," and now getting the ruffian under him he gradually shut off his wind.

"Hold on! hold on! no chokin'! – no chokin', I say; it's ag'in' ther moral rules o' fightin'!"

"I don'd vas see id dot vay," Fritz said. "Eider you vas got to ax my parding for assaulting me, or I vil choke off your breathe so you vil haff none to use."

"No choke, I say! Let me up, an' I'll fight ye accordin' ter book."

"Not a let oop!" was the young detective's reply. "Ven you come foolin' around mit der Dutchman you pet your life you get left. Apologize, I dells you, or I turns de throttle, und shuts der sdeam off your logermotiff. I mean pizness – no 'pology, no breathe. Vas you understand?"

The man began to wince as Fritz closed his terrible gripe.

"Oh, let me up, an' we'll call et squar'," the man gurgled.

"Ven you dells me 'I ax your humble parding' – den I let you up!"

"But I won't!"

"Den I vil squeeze your windpipe, so!"

"I ask your pardon. Oh! yes, I do. Thar, now, let me up!"

Fritz obeyed, and let the ruffian rise from the floor, but just as soon as he was on his feet Bully Jake drew a long knife.

"Oho! I didn't say what I'd do next!" he howled, brandishing the blade, threateningly. "I'll cut your cussed heart out now."

"Vil you, dough? Vel, I'll pet you yoost apout a half-dollar, on dot, I vil!" Fritz cried, drawing and cocking his revolver. "Now, you coome on, uff you vant to get der whole dop off your head plowed off. I can do der job vid greatest of pleasure."

The sight of the revolver caused the big loafer to pause.

"Ye wouldn't shoot, when I'm only in fun, would you?" he asked, incredulously.

"Well, just try me and see, dot's all," was the retort. "Your funniness vas entirely too t'in, mine friendt; I don'd vas like it. So I'll giff you one minnit der git oud. If you don'd vas gone py dot time, I vil shoot you so quicker ash I vould von leedle cat. One! Got ready, all der vile! Swi! High time you vas skinnin' oud! Three! Ven I hollers dot, if you don'd vas gone I spot you!"

"Then, tearfully and sadly, I must tear myself away from you," the ruffian declared, with a grimace, as he stalked toward the door, "I'll allow ye hold ther grip now, but thet ain't sayin' ye'll allus hold it."

Then he took his leave.

Fritz was not sorry. He did not want to hurt any one unless forced to, and yet was bound to defend himself.

Toward evening the loungers, one by one, quitted the tavern, until Fritz and Fat John were the only ones in the bar-room.

Then it was that the latter spoke.

"I say, young feller," he said, "you're a hextrordinary chap, and if it wouldn't be haskin' too much, I'd like to inquire what brings you here?"

"Vel, pizness, I dinks," Fritz replied, "und judgin' py der latest demonstrations, I vil haff lots off id."

"You had better look out sharp for Number One, I tell you, for though this ain't counted no hard town, they ginerally pitch onto a stranger and try to bulldoze him into leavin' by settin' Bully Jake onto him."

"I vas tumbled to dot already," Fritz replied; "but der virst one vot attempted it didn't make so much success."

"No; but that ain't saying you'll have as big luck next time. You see, his honor, Mr. Greyville, owns most of the property hereabouts, an' he's as big feeling as a duke, and won't allow no one around 'cept what bows to his will."

"Vel, ve vil see apoud dot," Fritz muttered. "I dinks dey don'd vas make mooch bulldozing me. I vant to ask you von question – don'd this man Greyville be Captain Gregg, der smuggler?"

The fat host of the Lion's Paw gave a start. The question was evidently something of a surprise to him.

"Why, no, of course not! What ever put such an idea into your head, young man? Gregg the smuggler is said to be one of the worst characters along the Atlantic coast, and at the same time, the most successful in his line of business. Greyville is a man who would scorn to stoop to such work; and, moreover, he is said to be immensely rich in ready cash, though his landed property is mortgaged for its full value."

Fritz accepted this explanation without reply, but his mind was but little changed in the matter.

"I dinks Gregg und Greyville vas one und der same parties," he muttered, "und shall not giff up dot opinion until I can haff furder proof von vay or der odder."

As soon as the gloaming of evening began to settle over the quiet little hamlet, he left the tavern, and sauntered down the street toward the Honorable Granby Greyville's residence, whither most of the villagers had already wended their way.

On arriving at the front of the handsome lawn, with its winding walks, large shade trees, beds of flowers, and attractive residence, Fritz paused to survey the scene that was spread out before him.

Here and there dotted about among the shade trees were tables spread with tempting viands, to which the villagers were freely helping themselves, and to the flowing pitchers of ale that were passed around by several of the village maidens.

A couple of Italians were making music upon violin and harp, which sounded weird and enchanting; children were playing and romping about the grounds; Chinese lanterns were strung about among the lower branches of the trees, and altogether it was a festive and attractive scene.

From his position outside the fence Fritz could see nothing of either Greyville or the alleged countess, and he resolved to enter the grounds for that purpose, which he accordingly did, and sauntered about leisurely, as if he had a perfect right there by invitation.

Although many curious glances were leveled at him, he paid no attention to them, and after walking around awhile, he leaned up against a tree and looked on, studying every face within the reach of his gaze.

Presently there was a shout among the assembled villagers, and upon this, the door of the mansion opened, and Mr. Greyville came forth upon the grounds, with the countess leaning upon his arm.

His honor, was attired in a suit of immaculate white duck, with a massive gold chain strung across his vest and a superb diamond pin upon his shirt front.

The countess was a Frenchwoman, of some three-and-thirty years, with a thin, angular face, bead-like black eyes, and hair to match, and a thin compressed mouth, which when she laughed showed two rows of pearly teeth. She also wore an abundance of paint and powder upon her face, and what with her rich attire of silk, lace, and diamonds, was a striking and peculiar-looking personage – a woman who looked crafty, and capable of mischief.

As soon as she and the Honorable Greyville advanced upon the lawn, the villagers arose from the tables, and the women courtesied low, while the men swung their hats and sent up a rousing cheer.

The countess and her escort then moved about here and there, with a pleasant word for all, and a bidding for them to continue their feast.

As they passed near where Fritz stood leaning against the tree, Greyville gave him a sharp, stern glance, and said:

"Ah! who are you, and what do you want here, sir?"

"Nothing in particular," Fritz replied, returning his stare, calmly. "I only see vot you vas haff a pic-nig, und I come in to look on."

"Then begone, sir, at once! I allow no loafers around here. Go, I say!" and then they passed on.

Fritz did not go, however, but retained his position, in defiance.

"Shorge Vashingdon made dis a free coundry, und I von'd go dil I gits ready," he muttered.

It was not long, however, before he was hastily approached by a man, and that man no less a person than the same flashily attired individual who had taken the young woman, Madge, away from the hotel, at Atlantic City!

"Hello! get out of this, you loafer!" he cried seizing Fritz by the shoulder, roughly. "How many times do you have to be told to go? The guv'nor said go – now, if you don't light out, I'll make your heels break your neck."

"Vil you, dough!" Fritz grinned, wrenching loose, and standing on the defensive. "Yoost you keep your hands off vrom me, Griffith Gregg, or I vil knock der whole top off your nose off."

"What! you vagabond! you compare me with the smuggler's son? I'll thump your skull for that piece of impudence."

And he was as good as his word, for, raising a stout cane he carried, he brought it heavily down upon the young detective's head.

For a moment Fritz was nearly stunned, but he quickly recovered, and sprung at his assailant, pluckily.

"Oh! you snoozer!" he cried, "I vil plack your eye mit plue, for dot."

And he did deal the honorable's son two severe whacks between the eyes, in rapid succession, which had the effect to land him on his back on the ground.

"Thump me on der head, vil you?" Fritz cried, standing over him, ready to give him another rap, if he attempted to rise. "I'll pet you a half-dollar you vil got left, on dot."

"Let me up, you dastardly loafer!" young Greyville raved, not daring to rise under the existing circumstances. "I'll murder you, for this, I – I'll – "

"Got your head proke, off you come mit your foolishness around me!" Fritz cried. "I'll let you oop, dough, ash I must go!"

He saw a half a dozen of the village roughs coming toward the spot, and knew he was ill-prepared to battle with all of them. So with a few dextrous bounds he leaped away out of the yard, and ran swiftly down to the beach.

Finding that they did not follow him, he soon after made his way up the street again, to the tavern, and went to the room which had been assigned him.

"I'll pet der vil pe some droubles before I got t'rough mit dis pizness," he muttered, "but I vas der man who vil come oud der winner."

He was soon off in a sound sleep, from which he, hours later, awakened, with a violent start.

The scene was changed.

He was not in the tavern, on the bed, but instead, was bound hand and foot, and lying in the bottom of a boat!

CHAPTER VIII.
ADRIFT

At first Fritz had no idea of what could have happened, but it did not take him long to come to one conclusion on the matter, that he had been captured at night, thrust into the frail boat, and sent adrift on the ocean. Who had been the authors of the job? There could be no doubt in his mind about that.

The Greyvilles – or the Greggs, as he believed they were – were anxious to have him leave the neighborhood, and had probably, through their agents, caused his removal in this very promiscuous manner.

By an effort he sat up in the little boat and gazed around him. He was now some distance from the beach, beyond the white-capped breakers, and, as the tide was receding, the frail craft was of course drifting farther and farther from land each moment, a reflection that might have caused any one a start, while to Fritz, bound and helpless, it was the next thing to being alarming.

"Vel, py shimminy dunder!" was his exclamation, as he gazed dolefully around him. "Off I don'd vas in a duyfel off a fix, den I don'd vant a cent. They've come von cute game ofer me, und I'll bet a half-dollar I go down der same throat vot Jonah did – der w'ale's. Vonder vich von off dem vellers put up der shob on me? I'd like to punch his nose. Reckon id vas dot veller whose eyes I placked mit Jersey plue up at der pig-nic. I vonder vot der plazes a veller can do, anyhow?"

There was a sorry prospect for his being able to do anything much toward helping himself from the unenviable situation in which he had been placed. He was unable to use his hands or feet, and was, therefore, helpless and at the mercy of the wild waters over which he was drifting.

Did he have the use of hands and feet he was not yet out of danger, for the boat was without oars and the distance to the land was so great as to make it a daring attempt to breast the outgoing tide in a struggle to reach the shore by swimming.

Still, it seemed the only hope for him, if by any way he could free himself of the straps which bound him, and he was not the one to despair without first proving to his satisfaction that it was the only thing left for him to do.

Therefore he set to work industriously in an attempt to loosen the bonds from his hands. Luckily they were not bound behind his back, which was one advantage, as he could use his teeth upon them.

But, being leather straps, he made slow headway, nibbling at the strap around his hand; but little by little it yielded, so that after awhile a violent wrench broke it asunder, and his hands were free.

"Py shimminy, dot ish goot, anyhow," he muttered, making haste to unloosen his feet. "Now, der next t'ings is somedings else. How ish I going to got pack mit der shore?"

It was an all-important question.

The boat was perhaps a mile farther from shore than when he first had estimated the distance.

"I don'd know vedder I can swum dot furder or not," he muttered, doubtfully. "But subbosin' der whale, or der duyfel-fish, catch 'old mit mine pootleg, und suck me in under der vater. Vot a duyfel o' a fix I'd be in den. Off I only had some paddles, I vould haff no droubles getting to shore vid der poat."

He was in the midst of these reflections when he heard a shout farther out at sea, and for the first time beheld dimly a dusky object floating in the water not far ahead of him.

"Hello! who you vas, und vot you vant?" Fritz shouted, in answer.

"I am a poor devil more or less drowned, and can't hang on to this barrel much longer. Be you man or devil, for Heaven's sake hurry along with your boat."

"All righd. I vil pe dere in der sweedness py-und-py. Keep a stiff upper lip, und I'll got you soon," the young detective replied, heartily. "Dere's nodding like hang-on at der critical minute."

Kneeling, and leaning over the front part of the boat, he used his hands as propellers, and in this way was able to improve the slow progress of his light craft to some extent, and in a few moments was alongside the barrel, on top of which a drenched human was balancing himself.

At a glance Fritz perceived who it was.

"Hartly!" he exclaimed, in surprise.

"Yes, what's left of me," the sentenced smuggler replied, clambering into the boat. "Thank Heaven you came along just as you did, for my gripe wouldn't hold out much longer."

"Vel, I should dink not. I'd giffen you up ash dead. How ish it dot you don'd vas kilt by der smugglers?"

"It is no fault of theirs," Hartly replied, grimly. "They chucked me under night afore last, miles out at sea, supposing my hands and feet were bound, and a heavy stone tied to my head. But while they were rowing me out, I contrived to loosen up matters, so that I was really free the minute I struck water. But I went under all the same to deceive them. When they headed for shore I arose to the surface, and after swimming about until nearly exhausted, I caught onto this empty cask, which has in one sense been my salvation. By the tides I have been carried quite near to the shore, but my lower limbs being numb by remaining so long in the water, I dared not attempt to swim ashore, and the outgoing tide has carried me out again – not so far as it would, however, if I had not struggled shoreward constantly. But how come you out here, in this frail shell, without even oars?"

Fritz explained as far as he had known, and Hartly scowled.

"There'll be a reckoning for some one," he said, "if I ever succeed in getting ashore. But there's not much prospect of that, unless we can get some oars, or something to pull ashore with. The tide will begin to ebb in before a great while, too."

"I haff von idea," Fritz said. "Uff ve can got der parrel apart, we might do somedings vid der staves – vot you t'ink apoud dot?"

"Good idea. We can easily get the staves."

Hartly drew the barrel up alongside the boat, and soon had it knocked to pieces, and four of the staves secured.

"Now, then, for shore," he cried. "When we get there, I will leave you, on business, for a few hours, after which I will join you, and we will work together against the Gregg gang. We will paddle to land on the lower side of the bluff, as it wouldn't be particularly healthy for me to land in front of the village. You can, and in fact, had better keep shady, in the vicinity of the old rookery on the bluff, and I will join you, as soon as possible."

Accordingly they paddled as rapidly toward the beach as their strength would permit. By the time it was daybreak they had landed below the bluff.

Here they drew the light boat up on the beach, and Hartly said:

"I'll leave you now, but will return, in the course of a few hours."

"All righd. I vil remain in der neighborhood," Fritz replied, and then the young smuggler clambered up the side of the bluff, and was soon gone from view.

"I vonder vot dot veller ish oop to, now," Fritz muttered, after he had gone. "Der is somet'ing he vas goin' to do, vot he ain'd purticular apoud my knowing somedings apoud. I have haff a notion dot he ain'd vos so nice a veller vot I firsd t'ought, und I vouldn't pe much surprised if he vould give me avay off he got a chance. But, oh! I'll keep watch of him! I've got der smugglers und der kidnapper spotted, und I'll bet a half-dollar id don'd vas be some centuries till I get 'em trapped. In der meantime, der is somet'ing I vant to investigate."

This was something he had noticed as he and Hartly had paddled in to the shore from the ocean.

In about the center of the bluff, at the water's edge, as it faced the open Atlantic, was a dark hole of considerable size, which looked as if it might lead to a cavern in the hill.

If Hartly knew of its existence, he had kept it a secret, but our German detective had noticed it, and resolved to see where the aperture led to.

Under any other circumstances he would not have given it a second thought, but the fact that the smugglers held out in this vicinity – of which he now had no doubt – gave that hole in the bluff more than ordinary significance.

Jumping into the boat he paddled off once more into the water, and headed toward the front of the bluff.

Not knowing what danger he might unexpectedly run into, he had drawn his revolver, which, strangely enough his captors had not taken from him, and placed it on the stern seat beside him.

Working silently but steadily along the face of the bluff, which was quite perpendicular, he soon came before the aperture, and headed his boat into it.

Mr. – or, as he styled himself, Honorable – Granby Greyville sat in his private study this same morning, engaged in smoking a cigar, as he rocked in an easy-chair and gazed out through an open glass door upon the pretty lawn.

That his thoughts were of an unpleasant nature was evident by a frown which disfigured his florid countenance.

And this frown did not lessen, but rather increased as there suddenly appeared in the doorway no less a wild-looking personage than Silly Sue, whom Fritz had encountered upon the beach.

She made a grimace and sort of a jerky bow as she saw his honor, and then stood staring at him in a strange manner.

"Well!" he growled, angrily, "what brings you here?"

"What allus brings me?" she replied, with a chuckle. "I want to come back and play up high-cockolorum, like my big-feelin' sister. S'pose that's silly, too, ain't it, daddy?"

"No more so than your accursed obstinacy, you fool!" was the severe reply. "You well know the only terms that can ever restore you as a member of my family."

"But I won't accept 'em!"

"Then clear out. You shall never be anything to me till you surrender the stolen money."

"Bah! it ain't yours! You're a bad, wicked man, and you got it wickedly, and get all your wealth wickedly, and the more you get the wickeder you get. Get out! I'd cut my head off, silly's I am, before I'd give you up the money."

"Curses on your mulishness!"

"Ha! ha! I know you cherish the most fatherly regard for me. If it wasn't for the hope that I will some day restore you your lost ten thousand you'd had me drowned months ago. By the way, old man, what have you done with my feller?"

"Your fellow?"

"Yes – Hal Hartly."

"How should I know anything about him?"

"Who should know better? Oh! you wicked monster!"

"Take care, girl!"

"No, I won't take care!" and her eyes flashed in defiance of his anger. "I ain't a bit afraid of you, because I can outrun any dog in the town. I know what's become of Hal. Your tools took him out and chucked him under. But, ha! ha! he's all right!"

Greyville started a little.

"What foolishness is this of yours?"

"Oh! only silliness, of course," and she laughed loudly. "But Hal's all right, and, now that his scruples have had a pickle, I allow he'll come around to my cherished plan, and we'll make it warm for you!"

"What! you dare to threaten me?"

"Didn't I tell you I'd go for you if you didn't reform? Well, I must be off. How's my stately sister? How's the countess? Ha! ha! ha! shoot her. She's an old hag, with a glass eye and false teeth. The future Mrs. G! Bah! and such a model private excursion steamer, too! Still, it serves its purpose. I'm off now – just come up to spice your breakfast. Better mend your ways. The way of the transgressor is hard. By-by! Yours, truly, Silly Sue!"

And then, with a wild laugh, she vanished.