October 1930 Read online

  Spawn said abruptly: "The United States may catch De Boer. Have youthought of that, Perona? The fellow would not shield us, but wouldtell everything."

  "And who will believe him? The wild tale of a trapped bandit! Againstyour word, Spawn? You, an honest and wealthy mine owner? And I--I,Greko Perona, Minister of Internal Affairs of the Sovereign Power ofNareda! Who will dare to give me the lie because a bandit tells a wildtale with no real facts to prop it?"

  "Those police guards at the mine to-night?"

  "Admit that they took your bribes? You are witless, Spawn! Let thembut admit it to me and of a surety I will fling them intoimprisonment! Now listen with care, for the after noon is going...."

  Their voices lowered, then faded, and Jetta was left alone andhelpless. Spawn went back to the mine to meet me. We returned and hadsupper, Jetta could dimly hear us.

  * * * * *

  There was silence about the house during the mid-evening. I hadslipped out and followed Perona to his meeting with De Boer. ThenSpawn had discovered my absence and had rushed to join Perona andtell him.

  But Jetta knew nothing of this. The hour of her tryst with me wasapproaching. In the darkness of her room as she lay bound and gaggedon her couch, she could see the fitful moonlight rising to illuminethe window oval.

  She squirmed at the cords holding her, but could not loosen them. Theycut into her flesh; her limbs were numb.

  The evening wore on. Would I come to the garden tryst?

  Jetta could not break her bonds. But gradually she had mouthed the gagloose. Then she heard my hurried footsteps in the patio; then my tensevoice.

  And at her answer I was pounding on her door. But it had been stoutlysealed by Spawn. I flung my shoulder against it, raging, thumping. Butthe heavy metal panels would not yield; the seal held intact.

  "Jetta!"

  "Philip, run away! They want to catch you! De Boer, the bandit, iscoming!"

  "I know it!"

  Fool that I was, to pause with talk! There was no time: I must getJetta out of here. Break down this door.

  But it would not yield. A gas torch would melt this outer seal. Wasthere a torch here at Spawn's? But I had no time to search for atorch! Or a bar with which to ram this door--

  A panic seized me, with the fresh realization that any instant De Boerand his men would arrive. I beat with futile fists on the door, andJetta from within, calling to me to get away before I was caught.

  This accursed door between us!

  * * * * *

  And then--after no more than half a minute, doubtless--I thought ofthe window. My momentary panic left me. I dashed to the window oval.Sealed. But the shutter curtain, and the glassite pane behind it, werefragile.

  "Jetta, are you near the window?"

  "No. On the bed. They have tied me."

  "Look out; I'm breaking through!"

  There were loose rocks, as large as my head, set to mark the gardenpath. I seized one and hurled it. With a crash it went through thewindow and fell to the floor of the room. A jagged hole showed.

  "All right, Jetta?"

  "Yes! Yes, Philip."

  I squirmed through the oval and dropped to the floor. My arms were cutfrom the jagged glassite, though I did not know it then. It was diminside the room, but I could see the outline of the bed with her lyingon it.

  Her ankles and wrists were tied. I cut the cords with my knife.

  She was gasping. "They're planning to capture you. Philip! You shouldnot be here! Get away!"

  "Yes. But I'm going to take you with me. Can you stand up?"

  * * * * *

  I set her on her feet in the center of the room. A shaft of moonlightwas coming through the hole in the window.

  "Philip! You're bleeding!"

  "It is nothing. Cut myself on the glassite. Can you stand alone?"

  "Yes."

  But her legs, stiffened and numb from having been bound so many hours,bent under her. I caught her as she was falling.

  "I'll be--all right in a minute. But Philip, if you stay here--"

  "You're going with me!"

  "Oh!"

  I could carry her, if she could not run. But it would be slow; and itwould be difficult to get her through the window. And on the street wewould attract too much attention.

  "Jetta, try to stand. Stamp your feet. I'll hold you."

  I steadied her. Then I bent down, chafing her legs with my hands. Herarms had been limp, but the blood was in them now. She murmured withthe tingling pain, and then bent over, frantically helping me rub thecirculation back into her legs.

  "Better?"

  "Yes." She took a weak and trembling step.

  "Wait. Let me rub them more, Jetta."

  Precious minutes!

  "I'll knock out the rest of the window with that rock! We'll run;we'll be out of here in a moment."

  "Run where?"

  "Away. Into hiding--out of all this. The United States patrol-ship iscoming from Porto Rico. It will take us from here."

  "Where?"

  "Away. To Great New York, maybe. Away from all this; from that oldfossil, Perona."

  I was stooping beside her.

  "I'm all right now, Philip."

  I rose up, and suddenly found myself clasping her in my arms; herslight body in the boy's ragged garb pressed against me.

  "Jetta, dear, do you trust me? Will you come?"

  "Yes. Oh, yes--anywhere, Philip, with you."

  * * * * *

  For only a breathless instant I lingered, holding her. Then I cast heroff and seized the rock from the floor. The jagged glassite fell awayunder my blows.

  "Now, Jetta. I'll go first--"

  But it was too late! I stopped, stricken by the sound of a voiceoutside!

  "He's there! In the girl's room! That's her window!"

  Cautious voices in the garden! The thud of approaching footsteps.

  I shoved Jetta back and rushed to the broken window oval. The figuresof De Boer and his men showed in the moonlight across the patio. Theyhad heard me breaking the glassite. And they saw me, now.

  "There he is, De Boer!"

  We were trapped!

  CHAPTER X - The Murder in the Garden

  "Hans, keep back! I will go!"

  "But Commander--"

  "Armed? The hell he is not! Spawn said no. Spawn! Where is Spawn? Hewas here."

  I had dropped back from the window, and, gripping Jetta, stood in thecenter of the room.

  "Jetta, dear."

  "Oh. Philip!"

  "There's no other way out of here?"

  "No! No!"

  Only the heavy sealed door, and this broken window. The bandits in thegarden had paused at sight of me. Someone had called.

  "He may be armed, De Boer."

  They had stopped their forward rush and darted into the shelter of thepergola. I might be armed!

  We could hear their low voices not ten feet from us. But I was notarmed, except for my knife. Futile weapon, indeed.

  "Jetta, keep back. If they should fire--"

  * * * * *

  I got a look through the oval. De Boer was advancing upon it, with hisbarreled projector half levelled. He saw me again. He called:

  "You American, come out!"

  I crouched on the floor, pushing Jetta back to where the shadows ofthe bed hid her.

  "You American!"

  He was close outside the window. "Come out--or I am coming in!"

  I said abruptly, "Come!"

  My blade was in my hand. If he showed himself I could slash histhroat, doubtless. But what about Jetta? My thoughts flashed upon theheels of my defiant invitation. Suppose, as De Boer climbed in thewindow, I killed him? I could not escape, and his infuriated fellowswould rush us, firing through the oval, sweeping the room, killing usboth. But Jetta now was in no danger. Her father was outside, andthese bandits were her father's friends. I would have to yield.

  I called, louder, "Why don't you come in?"

  Could I hold them off? Frighten them off
, for a time, and make enoughnoise so that perhaps someone passing in the nearby street would givethe alarm and bring help?

  There was a sudden silence in the patio. The bandits had so far madeas little commotion as possible. Presently I could hear their lowvoices.

  * * * * *

  I heard an oath. De Boer's head and shoulders appeared in the windowoval! His levelled projector came through. Perhaps he would not havefired, but I did not dare take the chance. I was crouching almostunder the muzzle, so I straightened, gripped it, and flung it up. Ithen slashed at his face with my knife, but he gripped my wrist withpowerful fingers. My knife fell as he twisted my wrist. His projectorhad not fired. It was jammed between us. One of his huge arms reachedin and encircled me.

  "Damn you!"

  He muttered it, but I shouted, "Fool! De Boer, the bandit!"

  I was aware of a commotion out in the garden.

  "... Bring all Nareda on our ears? De Boer, shut him up!"

  I was gripping the projector, struggling to keep its muzzle pointedupwards. With a heave of his giant arms De Boer lifted me and jerkedme bodily through the window. I fell on my feet, still fighting. Butother hands seized me. It was no use. I yielded suddenly. I panted:

  "Enough!"

  They held me. One of them growled. "Another shout and we will leaveyou here dead. Commander, look!"

  My shirt was torn open. The electrode band about my chest was exposed!De Boer towered head and shoulders over me. I gazed up, passive in thegrip of two or three of his men, and saw his face. His heavy jawdropped as he gazed at my little diaphragms, the electrode.

  He knew now for the first time that this was no private citizen he hadassaulted. This official apparatus meant that I was a Governmentagent.

  * * * * *

  There was an instant of shocked silence. An expression grim andfurious crossed the giant bandit's face.

  "So this is it? Hans, careful--hold him!"

  Jetta was still in her room, silent now. I heard Spawn's voice, closeat hand in the patio.

  "De Boer! Careful!" It was the most cautious of half-whispers.

  Abruptly someone reached for my chest; jerked at the electrode; toreits fragile wires--the tiny grids and thumbnail amplifiers; jerked andripped and flung the whole little apparatus to the garden path. But itsang its warning note as the wires broke. Up in Great New York Hanleyknew then that catastrophe had fallen upon me.

  For a brief instant the crestfallen bandit mumbled at what he haddone. Then came Spawn's voice:

  "Got him, De Boer? Good!"

  Triumphant Spawn! He advanced across the garden with his heavy tread.And to me, and I am sure to De Boer as well, there came the swiftrealization that Spawn had been hiding safely in the background. Butmy detector was smashed now. It might have imaged De Boer assailingme: but now that it was smashed, Spawn could act freely.

  "Good! So you have him! Make away to the mine!"

  I did not see De Boer's face at that instant. But I saw his weaponcome up--an act wholly impulsive, no doubt. A flash of fury!

  He levelled the projector, not at me, but at the on-coming Spawn.

  "You damn liar!"

  "De Boer--" It was a scream of terror from Spawn. But it came toolate. The projector hissed; spat its tiny blue puff. The needledrilled Spawn through the heart. He toppled, flung up his arms, andwent down, silently, to sprawl on his face across the garden path.

  * * * * *

  De Boer was cursing, startled at his own action. The men holding metightened their grip. I heard Jetta cry out, but not at what hadhappened in the garden: she was unaware of that. One of the banditshad left the group and climbed into her room. Her cry now wassuppressed, as though the man's hand went over her mouth. And in thesilence came his mumbled voice:

  "Shut up, you!"

  There was the sound of a scuffle in there. I tore at the men holdingme.

  "Let me go! Jetta! Come out!"

  De Boer dashed for the window. I was still struggling. A hand cuffedme in the face. A projector rammed into my side.

  "Stop it, fool American!"

  De Boer came back with a chastened bandit ahead of him. The man wasmuttering and rubbing his shoulder, and De Boer said:

  "Try anything like that again, Cartner, and I won't be so easy onyou."

  De Boer was dragging Jetta, holding her by a wrist. She looked like aterrified, half-grown boy, so small was she beside this giant. But thewoman's lines of her, and the long dark hair streaming about her whiteface and over her shoulders, were unmistakable.

  "His daughter." De Boer was chuckling. "The little Jetta."

  * * * * *

  All this had happened in certainly no more than five minutes. Irealized that no alarm had been raised: the bandits had managed it allwith reasonable quiet.

  There were six of the bandits here, and De Boer, who towered over usall. I saw him now as a swaggering giant of thirty-odd, with aheavy-set smooth-shaved, handsome face.

  He held Jetta off. "Damn, how you have grown, Jetta."

  Someone said, "She knows too much."

  And someone else, "We will take her with us. If you leave her here, DeBoer--"

  "Why should I leave her? Why? Leave her--for Perona?"

  Then I think that for the first time Jetta saw her father's body lyingsprawled on the path. She cried, "Philip!" Then she half turned andmurmured: "Father!"

  She wavered, almost falling. "Father--" She went down, fainting,falling half against me and against De Boer, who caught her slightbody in his arms.

  "Come, we'll get back. Drag him!"

  "But you can't carry that girl out like that, De Boer."

  "Into the house: there is an open door. Hans, go out and bring the cararound to this side. Give me the cloaks. There is no alarm yet."

  De Boer chuckled again. "Perona was nice to keep the police off thisstreet to-night!"

  We went into the kitchen. An auto-car, which to the village peoplemight have been there on Spawn's mining business, slid quietly up tothe side entrance. A cloak was thrown over Jetta. She was carried likea sack and put into the car.

  I suddenly found an opportunity to break loose. I leaped and struckone of the men. But the others were too quickly on me. The kitchentable went over with a crash.

  Then something struck me on the back of the head: I think it was thehandle of De Boer's great knife. The kitchen and the men strugglingwith me faded. I went into a roaring blackness.

  CHAPTER XI - Aboard the Bandit Flyer

  I was dimly conscious of being inside the cubby of the car, withbandits sitting over me. The car was rolling through the villagestreets. Ascending. We must be heading for Spawn's mine. I thought ofJetta. Then I heard her voice and felt her stir beside me.

  The roaring in my head made everything dreamlike. I sank half intounconsciousness again. It seemed an endless interval, with only themuttering hiss of the car's mechanism and the confused murmurs of thebandits' voices.

  Then my strength came. The cold sweat on me was drying in the nightbreeze that swept through the car as it climbed the winding ascent. Icould see through its side oval a vista of bloated Lowland crags withmoonlight on them.

  It seemed that we should be nearly to the mine. We stopped. The men inthe car began climbing out.

  De Boer's voice: "Is he conscious now? I'll take the girl."

  Someone bent over me. "You hear me?"

  "Yes," I said.

  I found myself outside the car. They held me on my feet. Someonegratuitously cuffed me, but De Boer's voice issued a sharp, low-tonedrebuke.

  "Stop it! Get him and the girl aboard."

  * * * * *

  There seemed thirty or forty men gathered here. Silent dark figures inblack robes. The moonlight showed them, and occasionally one flashed ahand search-beam. It was De Boer's main party gathered to attack themine.

  I stood wavering on my feet. I was still weak and dizzy, with a lumpon the back of my head where I had been struck. The scene about me wasat first unfamiliar. We were in
a rocky gully. Rounded broken walls.Caves and crevices. Dried ooze piled like a ramp up one side. Themoonlight struggled down through a gathering mist overhead.

  I saw, presently, where we were. Above the mine, not below it: and Irealized that the car had encircled the mine's cauldron and climbedto a height beyond it. Down the small gully I could see where itopened into the cauldron about a hundred feet below us. The lights ofthe mine winked in the blurred moonlight shadows.

  The bandits led me up the gully. The car was left standing against thegully side where it had halted. De Boer, or one of his men, wascarrying Jetta.

  The flyer was here. We came upon it suddenly around a bend in thegully. Although I had only seen the nose if it earlier in the evening.I recognized this to be the same. It was in truth a strange lookingflyer: I had never seen one quite like it. Barrel-winged, like aJantzen: multi-propellored: and with folding helicopters for thevertical lifts and descent. And a great spreading fan-tail, in theBritish fashion. It rested on the rocks like a fat-winged bird withits long cylindrical body puffed out underneath. A seventy-foot cabin:fifteen feet wide, possibly. A line of small window-portes; a circularglassite front to the forward control-observatory cubby, with thepropellors just above it, and the pilot cubby up there behind them.And underneath the whole, a landing gear of the Fraser-Moodspringed-cushion type: and an expanding, air-coil pontoon-bladder forlanding upon water.

  * * * * *

  All this was usual enough. Yet, with the brief glimpses I had as mycaptors hurried me toward the landing incline, I was aware ofsomething very strange about this flyer. It was all dead black, abloated-bellied black bird. The moonlight struck it, but did not gleamor shimmer on its black metal surface. The cabin window-portes glowedwith a dim blue-gray light from inside. But as I chanced to gaze atone a green film seemed to cross it like a shade, so that it winkedand its light was gone. Yet a hole was there, like an eye-socket. Anempty green hole.

  We were close to the plane now, approaching the bottom of the smalllanding-incline. The wing over my head was like a huge fat barrel cutlength-wise in half. I stared up; and suddenly it seemed that the wingwas melting. Fading. Its inner portion, where it joined the body, wasclear in the moonlight. But the tips blurred and faded. An aspectcuriously leprous. Uncanny. Gruesome.