The Submarine Boys for the Flag Part 11

It was mighty hard for Eph to refrain from looking back. But he restrained his curiosity.

CHAPTER VI

FLANK MOVEMENT AND REAR ATTACK

When Jack Benson first touched the sidewalk, and the automobile glided on, leaving him in the wake of Millard, it was the young submarine captain's intention to follow his instructions to the letter.

Millard, having no especial reason of his own for feeling in danger, was walking along at a moderate gait, occasionally glancing into shop windows or gazing at the people whom he pa.s.sed.

He did not look behind, so it was easy for Jack, less than half a block to the rear, and keeping close to the buildings, to follow without being detected.

"Hullo," muttered the submarine boy. "There's a policeman on the crossing at the next corner. In another moment our long-legged one will be safely in custody."

Feeling in his inner coat pocket for the written authorization, Benson's fingers touched the envelope.

"He's easily caught;" murmured the boy.

There is sometimes a big slip between a wish and its fulfillment. Just as Captain Jack was on the point of darting out into the street to hail the policeman a street car whizzed by. With a flying leap the policeman landed on the front platform and was whirled along the thoroughfare.

"Lesson number one about being too sure," grumbled disappointed young Benson. "However, we'll soon come upon another policeman."

Two blocks more were covered, however, without sighting a bluecoat. Jack even began to wonder how it would do to leap upon Millard, calling upon pa.s.sing citizens to aid him until a policeman arrived.

"But that would be a two-edged sword, that might cut too keenly on the wrong side," reflected the submarine boy. "Millard would be sure to claim that I was a.s.saulting him. It would look like that, too, and I'd probably get a thumping from the crowd, while Millard slipped away.

Then he would be warned that he was wanted, and he'd make himself mighty scarce after that."

Still no policeman came into sight.

"Gracious!" muttered Jack Benson, suddenly. He had just glanced into a store's show window, where a mirror was set at an angle. The submarine boy, looking into that mirror, became aware that he could see people at a considerable distance behind him down the street.

"I wonder if Millard has been taking sights, too, and has had a peep at me, that way?" muttered the boy.

At the next corner the long-legged one, after a brief look down the side street, turned into it.

"Now, that we're getting away from the main street there'll be far less chance of finding a police officer," sighed Jack, at last wholly discontented with luck.

Millard led without, apparently, ever thinking to glance back. He turned a second corner, into another small street, and kept on.

"This is getting more exciting," muttered the young trailer. "Yet all signs point to the fact that I've got to make the grab all by myself.

I wonder if I can down that chap and get the upper hand of him? I don't mind a thumping, but I'd be sadly ashamed of myself to let the fellow get away from me."

Millard was walking briskly, now. Next, he turned sharply to the left.

"Ah!" Then Jack Benson shot swiftly forward on tip-toe, trying to make no noise as he ran.

For the long-legged one had, to all seeming, at the distance, wheeled and gone through the wall of a brick building.

Just an instant later, however, this impossible feat was explained. The submarine boy found himself at the street-end of a narrow alley between two brick buildings.

"He has gone into the rear house, at the end of the alleyway," decided Benson, peering down this narrow thoroughfare. "He has left the door partly open, too. I'll have to have a look-in."

As he stole down the alley-way Jack Benson was too sensible, and by this time, too much experienced in the ways of a rougher world, not to suspect that there might be some trap in that door partly open. "He may have seen me, and may have left that door open on purpose," Benson reflected.

"He may be lying in wait for me, inside. Or else he may have left that door open, just to make me suspect a trap and keep out. In the meantime, he may be slipping through a door on the other side of the house, and sneaking away from me."

For a few seconds Jack Benson paused thoughtfully on the step just outside the door that was partly ajar.

"I may walk into a trap, by going inside, or I may be letting that wretch walk out of one by staying out here," wavered Benson, torn between two impulses.

Then, just as suddenly, this thought flashed through his mind:

"What you're doing is for the Flag! Never mind what happens to you, Jack Benson. Just rash in and say '_here goes_'!"

There was not another second's hesitation. Jack Benson softly pushed the door far enough open to admit him. At the back of the hallway he saw stairs leading below.

"Bas.e.m.e.nt stairs, with a rear bas.e.m.e.nt door letting out on another alleyway!" suspected the submarine boy.

Though he had determined to be as reckless as seemed necessary in order to get quickly on the trail of the vanished one, Jack moved on tip-toe.

He had all but reached the head of the stairs when a ground-floor door behind him opened noiselessly. The long-legged one, who had an equally good reach of arm, thrust out a noose that fell over the boy's head.

"Ug-g-g-gh!" rattled in Jack Benson's throat, as Millard, in grim silence, jerked the rope noose tight about the boy's neck. A sharp pull, a twist, and Millard had the boy face down in that hallway, and was kneeling on the victim's back.

"You ought to have known enough to keep away from me," growled the wretch, as he tightened on the noose.

That was about the last that the young submarine captain heard or knew, just then, for things were rapidly growing black before his eyes.

Jack tried to fight, but the choking was too severe. He couldn't get even a breath of air into his lungs to give him fighting strength.

Finding that the boy's struggles had ceased, the long-legged one eased off on the noose. He bent Jack's arms behind him so that the wrists crossed. Then, pulling another cord from one of his pockets, the wretch tied the youngster's hands with a few deft movements. Oh, but this rascal was an expert artist with ropes and cords.

Jack felt himself being prodded just over the pit of the stomach, and his senses slowly wandered back to him under the disturbing handling.

He was lying on his back, when his eyes opened once more. His throat felt sore, but he could breathe again.

Then the submarine boy discovered that his hands and feet were securely lashed. Beyond that, he discovered Millard squatting on the floor, close by, in j.a.panese fas.h.i.+on, for the foreign agent was sitting back on his own crossed heels.

"Feel wholly comfortable?" mockingly inquired the foreign agent, when he saw the boy's eyes open.

"Not especially, thank you," mumbled the boy, dryly.

Jack had discovered, by this time, that he was lying on a wooden floor, very likely in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the house. The room contained no furniture, beyond an old table. Daylight was excluded by wooden shutters fastened into place over the windows. On the table a single candle burned in a candlestick.

"Why didn't you bring along with you, Benson," sneered the long fellow, "the property of mine that you stole from me?"

It was plain, then, that the foreign agent remembered the submarine boy well.

"Why are you playing this fool trick on me?" counter-questioned Captain Jack. "You knew I didn't have the--the things with me. You could see that."