Fame and Fortune Weekly, No. 801, February 4, 1921. Various
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heard all we said, didn't you?" said Bulger, giving the boy a rough shake.
"You say I did."
"I know you did."
"Then what's the use of asking me, if you know so much?"
"Because I want you to admit it."
"I'll admit nothing."
"I'll choke the life out of you if you don't!" said the crook savagely.
"I haven't done you any harm, what do you want to treat me this way for?"
"But you intend to squeal on us as soon as you get away."
"What will I squeal about?"
"About what you heard."
"I haven't said that I heard anything."
"Who are you, anyway?" said Bulger, suddenly changing his line of questioning.
"My name is Dick Darling."
"Where do you live around here?"
"I don't live around here at all."
"You don't? Know anybody named Darling about here, Parker?"
"No. He looks like a stranger to me as well as I can see him," said Parker.
"Where do you live, then?" demanded Bulger.
"In New York."
"New York!" roared the crook. "What are you givin' me?"
"That's the truth."
"What are you doin' 'way down here in Jersey, then? Who are you visitin'?"
"Nobody. I was sent to Springville on an errand by my boss."
"Where's Springville, Parker?"
"It's a village on the railroad about eight miles from here."
"If you were sent to Springville, how is it that you are over here?"
"An accident happened to the train I was going to take for Jersey City, and the agent told me that I could catch an express if I walked to Carlin. That's what brought me over here."
"Did you start to walk to Carlin from Springville?" asked Parker.
"Yes," replied Dick.
"And instead of keepin' to your left, you turned into the road to the right and came over here, eh?"
"Yes, I did that. And I walked away from the town instead of toward it?"
"That's what you've been doin'."
"That's tough. I'll have to go back to the Carlin road, then, before I'm on the right track again."
"I reckon you won't go nowheres at present," said Bulger. "You've heard too much for some people's good. We'll take him over to your place, Parker, and hold on to him till I'm ready to dig out, and then I'll take him with me."
Having decided that point, the crook took a firm hold of the boy by the arm, and led him outside, followed by his pal, who shouldered the two bags.
CHAPTER II. – Dick Escapes
Dick was marched along the road to a field, lifted over the fence, and compelled to tramp it through the sodden turf and high grass. At length they reached another fence and he was lifted over that, too. The grass wasn't so tall in this meadow, but it was high enough to keep his shoes and stockings well soaked. They passed downhill here into a wood, and through the wood to another meadow, and across the meadow to a road, a narrow branch one, and along the road to a small weather-beaten picket gate, in the center of a picket fence, which admitted them to a ruinous-looking plot of ground, in the foreground of which stood a disreputable-looking two-story house, with a light shining from one of the windows. Dick was marched around the house to a crazy barn in the rear. The door, held by a hasp and staple, was opened and he was pushed in, followed by the man, Parker dropping the bags on the floor. Parker fumbled about on a beam till he found a match, with which he lighted a lantern. Then he got a piece of rope and with it Dick was bound to a post on which some odd pieces of harness were hanging. The men then conferred in a low tone. Finally, after Bulger had examined Dick's bonds to make sure that he was well tied, the men took the bags up and left the barn, after blowing out the light, and secured the door after them.
For the next half hour Dick worked hard to get free from the post. He twisted and pulled and shoved his arms this way and that, stopping occasionally to rest himself. Perseverance, they say, will conquer in the end; at any rate, it did in Dick's case, for at the end of thirty minutes he pulled one of his hands out of the bonds. The other soon followed, but still he wasn't free, for the rope around his chest held him close to the post. Even though his hands were free, he could not reach the knot that held him a prisoner. However, that did not greatly matter, for he managed to work his right arm to the front so he could put his hand in his pocket and pull out his knife. He had to put it behind his back to open it, but once that was done all he had to do was to crook his arm and begin sawing at the rope. The blade was sharp so the strands were quickly severed, and he stepped away from the post, free at last. The next thing was to get out of the barn. He tried the door, but that was beyond him. Then he felt his way around the walls in the dark, stumbling over various obstacles in his path. He found a place at the back where the boards appeared to be loose. He struck at one with his heel and it began to give way. Encouraged by this, he kept at it and in a short time detached the end of the board. He succeeded in knocking out a second board, and ripping both off, made a hole sufficiently large for him to crawl through. He knew where the road was and he started for it, taking care to give the house a wide berth.
There was a light in the room he judged was the kitchen, and he believed the two men were there, drying their clothes. He climbed over the picket fence, and when he stood in the road the problem of where it led to struck him with some force. He would have to follow the road in one direction or the other, and he had no idea at all where he would fetch up at. The night was dark and the strangeness and uncertainty of his situation made him feel all at sea. He started down the road at random, hoping he would meet with a house where, if the inmates were up, he could get information that would enable him to reach Carlin. He saw the lighted windows of a house up the road and decided to go there and make his inquiries. As he approached the gate he saw three men standing there talking. Two of them seemed to be rural policemen. They looked at him as he came up.
"Is this the road that runs into the Carlin road?" he asked the party generally.
"Yes," replied the well-dressed third person, who was evidently connected with the house.
"Would you favor me with the time?"
"It is about ten o'clock."
"Thank you, sir; now maybe you'll tell me whether this house was robbed this evening just before the thunderstorm?"
The three looked at Dick with some surprise and curiosity.
"Yes, it was," replied the gentleman. "How did you learn about it?"
"From the two thieves themselves."
His reply created something of a sensation.
"You learned the fact from the thieves?" said the gentleman.
"Yes, sir."
"Pray, who are you, young man? You seem to be a stranger in this vicinity."
"I am a stranger. My name is Dick Darling. I live in New York, and am employed by Roger Bacon, wholesale dealer in watches, jewelry and silverware. I was sent with a package to Mr. Goodrich, of Springville, a few miles from here, this afternoon, but after delivering it I found that the accommodation train for Jersey City, which stops at Springville at six-fifteen, had met with an accident which put it out of business, and being anxious to get home, the agent told me that if I walked to Carlin, six miles north, I could catch the next express, which stopped there at seven-thirty-eight. I started to walk, and got on all right till I came to where the road joined another, this one, in fact. I took this one by mistake and it brought me out here, away from Carlin, though I did not know at the time that I was going wrong. Then the thunderstorm came on and I took refuge in the vacant house up yonder."
Dick then went on to describe the arrival of the two rough