A Woman at Bay; Or, A Fiend in Skirts
a pocket untel a short time ago, when I had the misfortune to get mixed
up in a bit av a scrap--and the other feller didn't have the common
dacency to get on his feet ag'in when it was over. He jest stayed there,
so he did, and thinkin' that somebody would be axin' questions of me, I
lit out. Ye wouldn't know a thing more about me if I should talk for a
week--but, sure, if there's a question ye'd like to ax me, I'll be
afther answerin' it to the best of me ability, so I will."
"What brought you to me?"
"Me legs--no less; begging y'r pardon for mentionin' it. They weren't
purty to look at when Handsome stripped me--but we needn't mention that,
aither."
"But you came here in search of Hobo Harry."
"I did. That same."
"Who sent you here to find him?"
"Nobody. I had to go somewhere. I had been readin' the papers, and I
had seen a lot about Hobo Harry in 'em. All of the papers said that he
was to be found around here somewhere, and that the divil himself
couldn't catch him; and I says to mesilf, says I, sure that's the broth
av a boy ye want to find, Pat--and here I am, ma'am."
"Did you ever hear of Nick Carter?"
"I have that."
"Ever see him?"
"I did that."
"Would you know him, do you think, if you should see him again?"
"I would that. It isn't three weeks since I saw him wid these two eyes
as plain as I see y'r own beautiful face this minit. Sure, I'd know
him."
"Come this way, then."
She went into the adjoining room, and they followed. There she pulled
aside the rug again, and, having raised the trapdoor, descended, Patsy
and Handsome following close behind her.
The narrow steps took them into a spacious cellar, and, having passed
through a partition by opening a heavy oaken door, they entered what
appeared to be a prison room.
Nick Carter was there. He had recovered consciousness, and was seated on
a low stool against the wall. His arms were stretched wide apart, and
each was held in position by an iron chain on either side of him. A
ring of these chains had been passed around each wrist, and locked
there, and the chains were fastened to the stone walls by staples.
Madge stopped directly in front of the detective, and glared at him,
while he returned her fierce look with a half smile--for he had entirely
recovered from the effects of the dose she had administered.
She raised her arm and pointed toward the detective, but before she
could utter a word, Patsy cried out:
"That's him! That's him! Sure, ma'am, I'd know him among a thousand!
He's got stain on his skin; I can see that; and he is disguised in other
ways, ma'am, I can see that, too; but it's him. I'd take me oath to it,
so I would."
Madge smiled, and softly rubbed her hands together.
"Carter," she said coldly, "do you know this man who recognizes you?"
Nick shrugged his shoulders in disdain, for he understood perfectly well
that Patsy had some well-defined plan in his head for doing as he did;
and he replied:
"I suppose he is somebody whom I have arrested at some time. It is only
the worst criminals, like yourself, Madge, that I take the trouble to
remember."
She turned away with a toss of her head.
"Come!" she ordered; and they followed her from the cellar room, and up
the narrow stairs again, where she reclosed the trap.
"Go back, Pat, and take your place among the others," she ordered him
then. "You will be watched for a long time, and at the first break you
make you will be knifed, or shot. It is up to you whether you make good
in this community or not. Go now."
When he had gone, she turned to Handsome.
"Handsome," she said slowly, "you can go now, too. Keep an eye on that
Pat. At midnight to-night, come here to the cottage, for I want you to
help me to carry the body into the woods to the quicksand pit. We will
throw him there--Nick Carter, I mean."
"Of course. Shall you chuck him in alive?"
"No; for he would find some way to crawl out and escape. I will put him
out of the way first. It will be only a dead body that we will have to
carry, but I don't want the men to know that Nick Carter has been among
us until after he is dead. Then it will not matter."
"Right you are," said Handsome; and he took his departure.
But down in the cellar beneath them something had happened, for as soon
as the party of three left him, Nick calmly and easily pulled the iron
staples from the wall and stood upon his feet. The fact was that he had
already succeeded in loosening them when he heard the approach of Madge
and the others, and he had been afforded barely time to resume his
position of helpless captivity when the door was opened and they
entered.
But now he was free, save for the short chains that were still fastened
to his wrists, and the plank walls that rose between him and liberty.
But the chains on each wrist were short, and the walls were only plank;
and in Madge's eagerness and haste in fastening him there she had
neglected--or she had not thought it necessary--to search him for his
weapons.
He knew now that there was very little time to spare, and that he and
his three assistants were in a bad predicament.
CHAPTER IX.
THE ESCAPE FROM THE SWAMP.
In the meantime, Patsy had been in half a dozen different kinds of a
brown study. He realized that now the entire situation depended solely
upon him, and that the lives of his chief, and of Chick and Ten-Ichi,
rested wholly in his hands.
He stood, be it said, all alone, in the midst of a huge swamp, from
which escape could only be had by means of a boat, and into which he had
been conducted blindfolded. Around him were men, all ready at any
instant to take his life for the merest excuse; and already the lives of
his three friends were sacrificed unless he could do something--and that
very speedily--to save them.
In the cellar at the cottage he had not dared to look squarely at his
chief, for fear that the inclination on his own part to make some sort
of signal would be too strong for him to resist; and he had known that
Madge was watching every act and motion, as a cat watches a mouse.
When he left the cottage, and had gone as far as the edge of the glade,
he halted, and waited there for Handsome, for he guessed that the man
would be sent away directly; and when Handsome did come, Patsy said to
him:
"Sure, Handsome, will ye tell me what is to be done wid the others?"
"I haven't made up my mind about that yet," replied Handsome.
"And is it left to you that it is?"
"Certainly."
"Faith, but that's fine. I wish it was left to me, so I do."
"What would you do to them, Pat?"
"I'd skin 'em, begorra!"
Handsome laughed.
"Perhaps I will give you a chance," he said. "However, it is likely that
they will go into the quicksand."
"Where is that same, then?"
"Out in the swamp a bit. There is no getting out of it, and it tells no
tales. Once a man is thrown into that, he sinks out of sight in a few
minutes, and that is the last of him. It is our graveyard. There are
about fifty in there now. The place is bottomless."
"Cheerful, isn't it? Sure, man, it's unhealthy, it is; but I'll go and
have a look at it. Where is it?"
Handsome directed him how to find it, and he hastened away; but he
paused before he started long enough to select a long, strong rope that
he had seen near one of the cabins. This he carried with him, and
disappeared among the trees.
Patsy was gone less than half an hour, but when he returned he was
whistling; and then, after a little, he found an opportunity to linger
around the place where Chick and Ten-Ichi were confined in one of the
cabins.
And presently he began to sing; at first in a low tone, and in
unintelligible words; but his voice was good, and it attracted
attention, even among that motley crew, and after a little, perceiving
that they were listening, he sang the louder.
If they had but known it, he was singing in Japanese, which Ten-Ichi had
taught him to speak perfectly; and the words he uttered as he sang,
translated, were:
"There is a quicksand pit not far from here. They are going to throw you
both into it. I have carried a rope to the quicksand pit. I have tied it
to a tree near there. When you are thrown into the pit, spread out your
arms. And also spread out your legs. Keep as still as possible so as not
to sink too fast. I will be there as soon as I can do it. I will throw
you the end of the rope. And with your own combined strength and mine,
we can pull you out. I am not suspected, so I can do the act, all right.
Keep up your pluck, and manage not to go into the pit head down."
He sang this over and over several times until he was sure that Ten-Ichi
had heard and understood, and would convey the message to Chick, and
then he sauntered away.
Twice after that he tried to get near to the cottage to sing to Nick
Carter; but each time he was stopped and turned back again; and at last
he muttered to himself:
"I'll have to wait till to-night for that part of it. After I have
rescued Chick and Ten-Ichi I will have them to help me, and then it will
be funny if we don't get the chief out of the pickle he is in."
It was well toward evening, almost the hour of sundown, before Chick and
Ten-Ichi were carried to the quicksand pit; and then a procession
followed them. The hands and feet of the prisoners were not bound, for
it was desired that they should flounder in the quicksand in order to
hasten its work; and without ceremony they were hurled into the midst of
it, one, and then the other.
Patsy's only fear was that the horde of hoboes would throw sticks and
stones at the helpless men in the sand pit; but he found that this was
against orders, since the presence of such impedimenta would give the
victims something to seize hold of; and the operation of sinking was so
slow, and the hoboes had seen it so many times, that they had lost
interest in it; so that almost at once after Chick and Ten-Ichi were
thrown in they began to withdraw to their several occupations; and
finally when only a group of four remained, Patsy, who was one of them,
called out: "It's tired of this I am. Come on!" and, nothing loath, the
others followed him away.
But he was not long gone. Almost at once he found an opportunity to
leave them, and, by making a detour, to hurry back again.
Already when he had reached the pit a second time the two detectives had
sunk almost to their armpits; but in an instant Patsy found the rope he
had concealed, one end of which was fastened to a tree.
The task which followed can better be imagined than described, and only
for the great strength of the trio it must have been unsuccessful. But
with Chick and Ten-Ichi straining for their lives at one end, and Patsy
pulling on the other as best he could, they came forth inch by inch,
until at last they stood, covered with mud, to be sure, but on solid
earth.
"Now, go around that way," said Patsy, speaking rapidly. "The cottage is
over there, as you know. You'll have to cross a neck of the swamp in
getting to it, but the chief is there, a prisoner. I have seen him. He
is chained to the wall in the cellar. If you get a chance before I do,
overcome that beast of a sentinel, who is walking up and down near the
house. I'll go back through the glade, and I'll manage somehow to join
you there, if I have to kill somebody in order to do it; and take these.
They are extra ones. I swiped them." He handed them each a pistol as he
spoke.
Chance played into Patsy's hands when he returned to the glade. Two of
the men had been quarreling, and they had taken the centre of the glade
to settle their differences; and there a ring had formed around them--a
ring which comprised almost every man of the outfit.
The point was that the attention of everybody was diverted from Patsy,