Buch lesen: «The Bradys' Chinese Clew: or, The Secret Dens of Pell Street», Seite 3

Ed did not know.

Having been brought up in Albany, tides were a mystery to him.

"I can only try it," he said, "and I may as well go about it now."

He began to undress.

"Look about well when you get into the water," said Pow. "Those fellows might be hiding under the pier."

Ed assented.

Stripped in a minute, he stood looking down into the water.

"Why don't you go ahead? What are you hanging back for?" the Chinaman demanded.

"A fellow hates to dive where he doesn't know the depth, especially at night," replied Ed.

"Oh, go ahead! I only wish I could dive. I wouldn't hesitate."

"Well, here goes!" cried Ed, and throwing out his hands he dove off the pier.

CHAPTER V
FOLLOWING UP THE CHINESE CLEW

Old King Brady hardly knew how to handle the old Chinaman.

The man's face was as expressionless as a wooden block when he said:

"Me no talkee, boss. Two hlundled dlollars, den me tellee you sometling big. No givee me, go away."

"Something big?" queried Old King Brady. "You mean something more than just about the boy?"

"Yair, whole lot more. Me no dlead one. Some fellers tlink me dlead one – no."

What was he driving at?

Old King Brady's curiosity was fully aroused.

At last he ended it by counting out another hundred and placing the whole in the Chinaman's hand.

The old fellow chuckled.

"Now then, John, out with the whole business," said Old King Brady, "and let your name come along with the rest."

And the old detective found no reason to regret his bargain.

"Me talkee Chinee to lady now," said the old fellow.

"Right. Go ahead," assented Old King Brady.

The conversation was quite extended.

"Is it important, Alice?" Old King Brady ventured to ask while it was in progress, for it seemed as if they would never come to an end.

"Most important," replied Alice. "You better let me hear all he has to say."

At last she turned and began to translate.

"It seems," she said, "that this old fellow, whose name is Fen Wix, as near as I can make out, although I never heard the last name before, is supposed to be deaf. He is so at times, but there are times when his hearing is perfect. He says that they have taken the boy away up into the Bronx to a cottage on Lorimer's lane, near the ruins of an old fertilizer factory; that is all the description I can get of the place."

"And it happens that I know it," replied Old King Brady. "There was once a fertilizer factory at the foot of Lorimer's lane. It burned some years ago."

"Pow Chow and his white wife are there in that cottage. They have a scheme to recover a lot of stolen money sunk in the water near by. Pow knows where. He was looking for a Chinaman who could swim and dive. He drank too much last night and talked about his plans to two men, both Chinese. This old fellow overheard, although they supposed he could not hear. He says that these two men are out for this treasure. The boy, it appears, is an extraordinary swimmer, and the plan is to use him. Fen Wix thinks that Pow Chow will have no recollection of the talk he made. He considers these two men his enemies, and yet he will not give away their names. He says that because he hates them and because he is too old to go after the treasure himself, he is giving the secret away to you, as he needs money. That is the gist of his story."

"Sounds rather fishy, don't you think so, governor?"

"Oh, I don't know," was the reply. "It seems to explain Mrs. Butler's anxiety and some other things. It may be that these mysterious papers give an account of the hiding of the treasure. I think there may be something in the thing."

"Dere sure is! Dere sure is, Boss Blady!" cried Fen Wix, who had been listening to all this. "You goee head. You win out. Me no can do nluffin, see? You gimmee two hlundled dlorrar, dat better as nluffin – see? Goee head. You win – see?"

And such was the Bradys' Chinese clew.

Chinamen rarely go out of their way to inform on each other, but sometimes they do.

A desire for revenge is the usual motive.

Fen Wix told Alice that he was seventy-six years old, and that one of the men to whom Pow Chow blabbed the secret in his cups ought to support him, but instead had treated him shabbily.

He would not say whether the man was any relative to him, but Alice assumed that such was the case.

"Do you think Pow Chow means to set the boy diving for this treasure to-night?" Old King Brady asked.

"Me tlink yair," was the reply. "Me no can tellee, but me tlink yair. You go?"

"Yes, I'll go. How much money is there?"

"Me no know. Pow Chow no tellee dlat."

"Who was it stolen from?"

"Me no know dlat neder. Me no can tellee dlat. You go?"

"Yes, yes, I'll go," replied the old detective.

"Dlen you better go quick. So you win, lemember, old man, gimme more money – see?"

"Perhaps I will," assented the old detective. "We'll see what it all amounts to first."

And with that Fen Wix departed.

"A most peculiar piece of business," observed Harry. "I must say I am very much afraid you have blown in your money for nothing, governor."

"Don't croak," replied the old detective. "What's a couple of hundred, anyway? I shan't cry if it all proves romance, but how would that old Chink have the location down so pat unless there was something in what he says?"

This, of course, was the strongest argument which could be urged, and Harry raised no further objections.

One significant fact was that nobody else appeared to have been attracted by the reward, for no one came.

"We will start for the Bronx now," said Old King Brady. "Alice, my dear, it seems hardy worth while for you to join us. Will you stop here to-night or will you go home?"

"Neither," replied Alice. "With your kind permission I will go along."

"I supposed you would say so. Be quick then and do away with your disguise."

Alice retired and made her change.

It was shortly after nine o'clock when they started, and they were certainly due at their destination long before midnight, and would have reached it if Old King Brady had not blundered.

Nor is it any wonder.

Conditions in the Bronx have changed so of late, old landmarks disappearing so rapidly, that anyone relying on memory alone gets mixed up.

And this is precisely what Old King Brady did.

He found himself at fault almost at the start.

He could not locate Lorimer's lane.

Then they started to inquire their way.

This only made matters worse.

Nobody ever knows anything when one comes to inquire their way up in the Bronx about old-time roads and lanes.

At last an ancient individual was found who claimed to be able to direct them, and the Bradys came out on the water front where there was a lane, a ruined factory and an old pier.

It was now about eleven o'clock.

Old King Brady was sure that he had hit the right spot.

Harry and Alice knew nothing about it.

They began to look about for the cottage.

There were two on this lane, both still lighted up.

Harry ventured to peer in at the windows of each.

The report was unfavorable.

He saw no Chinaman inside.

Old King Brady then made some inquiries at a lonely saloon which stood on a corner, with lots on all sides.

The place was deserted save for a sleepy bartender.

He assured the old detective that such a thing as a Chinaman was unknown in the neighborhood.

They got inside the ruined factory and watched the pier until midnight, but not a soul came near the place.

Harry was triumphant.

"It's all a fake," he declared, "and you are out your two hundred. We may as well ring off and go home."

He had scarcely spoken when an old man with a fishing basket, a pole and a lantern came hobbling onto the pier.

"At last!" muttered Old King Brady. "Here is a party who, if he belongs in the neighborhood, may know something."

He stepped out into view.

"Good-evening, uncle!" he called.

"Evening yourself," growled the old man. "If you mean to hold me up you won't get nothin', I tell yer that straight. I hain't even begun to fish."

"I'm no hold-up man. On the contrary, I'm a detective."

"What say? I'm a bit deef. I can't hear."

"What building is this?"

"That? Why, that is Niebuhr's old moulding mill. It burned down five years ago."

"It isn't Fisher's fertilizer factory, then?"

"No, no! You're all off. That's a mile and over up the shore."

"But wasn't this lane behind us once known as Lorimer's lane?"

"So it was."

"I thought Fisher's fertilizer factory stood at the foot of Lorimer's lane?"

"So it did."

"Explain yourself."

"Well, the explanation is easy enough, boss; there's two Lorimer's lanes."

This settled it.

Bestowing a dollar on the lone fisherman in exchange for his information, Old King Brady started in to rectify his blunder.

They made the best time they could up the shore, but it was with little hope of accomplishing anything it had now grown so late.

Indeed, it was nearly one o'clock before they came in sight of another pier with the foundation of a burned building at the end.

"This is it," declared Old King Brady. "I see my blunder now."

"Hist!" whispered Harry. "There's a man on the pier."

So there was, and he was looking over the side, calling down to someone in the water.

The Bradys and Alice, who were still a good distance away, hurried on.

Suddenly the man straightened up and gave a wild start.

They saw him reach to his hip pocket for a revolver.

Before he was able to draw it a shot rang out.

"Heavens! That fellow has picked up one!" Harry cried.

The man flung up his hands, staggered back and fell upon the pier.

"Just in time to be witnesses to a murder!" cried Alice. "Can he be a Chinaman?"

"I couldn't make out," replied Old King Brady. "He must have been shot from a boat, whoever he is."

Their curiosity was now fully aroused, and they lost no time getting on the pier.

No one else seemed to have been attracted by the shot.

In fact, there was only one house to be seen, a small cottage up a lane behind the pier, in the window of which a light burned.

And now the detectives made a discovery which brought them to the conclusion that after all they had made no mistake in starting out to follow up their Chinese clew.

For the man on the pier was a Chinese in American dress.

He was dying when the Bradys came up.

Old King Brady knelt beside him.

"Your name! Who shot you?" he demanded.

The rapidly glazing eyes fixed themselves upon the old detective.

"You – are – Old – King – Brady?" was slowly said.

"Yes, yes! Speak! Are you Pow Chow?"

"Yes. Tell – my – wife."

"It shall be done. Who shot you?"

"Dock Hing – get him."

"If I can."

"Money. I – "

That was all.

Pow Chow breathed his last then.

The Bradys had come up with the crooked mission worker all too late.

Meanwhile Harry and Alice were making discoveries.

On the pier were clothes, evidently belonging to a young man.

When he came to look them over later, Harry recognized the suit which Ed Butler had worn.

But just then their attention was attracted to a stout boat, which was being rapidly pulled out on the Sound.

There were three persons in it, and it could be seen, dark as it was, that one of them wore no clothes.

Harry turned his glass upon the outfit.

It was all he could do, for the boat was already beyond revolver range.

"Chinks," he said. "The naked one is a boy."

"Can it be your Ed?" demanded Alice.

"I can't make out. They are pushing him down into the bottom of the boat. I think they mean to throw him overboard."

"If we had only turned up a few minutes sooner!"

"Yes; it is to be regretted that we didn't… We can't do a thing as it is."

But the boy was not thrown over.

The last they saw of him he was still lying in the bottom of the boat.

Harry wondered if he was dead.

Pow Chow was by this time.

Old King Brady called to them and informed them of the fact.

Then the identifying of Ed's clothes followed.

"We are on deck too late," declared Old King Brady. "If a dying man's word can be believed, those rascals have made off with the money, so, Master Harry, my Chinese clew seems to have amounted to something after all."

They now searched the clothes.

There was nothing in Ed's pockets to identify him, but Harry was certain that these were his clothes.

With Pow Chow it was different.

A memorandum book was discovered in his trousers pocket with his name written on the fly leaf in English.

Better still, twenty-eight hundred dollars in cash turned up.

"Mr. Butler's stolen money, what there is left of it!" Old King Brady exclaimed.

"The wife can't be far away," remarked Alice.

"I judge not from his dying words," replied the old detective. "It is up to us to find her. That must be our job now. It looks as if we were going to be able to close up our case, in part, at least. Let us go on to that lane where we see the light."

CHAPTER VI
ED GETS THE TIN CASE, AND THE CHINKS GET ED

Did Ed find the crooked pension agent's buried treasure?

That we must now proceed to show.

The Albany boy made a long dive and came up at some distance away from the pier.

Treading water, he peered in beneath it, and seeing no one, swam in closer, for it was very dark.

Pow Chow watched him admiringly.

"See any one under there, Eddie?" he called, assuming that the boy had seen no one or he would have spoken before.

"No, I can't make out that there is any one there," replied Ed, "but I am going to make sure."

"No, no! Don't go in under there. You will play yourself all out. You can see pretty well, can't you?"

Ed got hold of a cross-bar nailed to the piles, and looked long and closely.

His eyes having become accustomed to the gloom, it seemed to him that he could see all there was to be seen.

"No one there," he announced. "I'm going down now, Pow."

"Can you see down there in the dark? You can't. I ought to have thought of that. We can do nothing. I'm a fool."

"I can feel around," replied Ed. "That's all I expected to do. If it is anywhere near the pile I'll find it."

"But you can't stay down long enough."

"Yes, I can."

"How are you going to dive down without coming up on the pier?"

"Great Scott! I know my business. I'm going to swim down."

"Gee, Eddie, you're a wonder!" the Chinaman exclaimed.

Ed leaped up almost clear of the water, he was so nimble, turned a half somersault and made his dive after having located the right pile.

It seemed to Pow Chow as if he was gone an age, and he had almost given the boy up when he at last appeared.

Little did the yellow rascal imagine that he himself would be gone for good before many minutes had passed.

"Well, did you find it?" he cried.

"No," panted Ed. "I worked on the bottom all around the base of the pile, but I couldn't find a thing."

"Too bad! Some one must have got it."

"More than likely after all these years. I'm coming out to get my wind."

There was a standing ladder near by. Ed swam for it and climbed upon the pier, where he sat down on the stringpiece to rest.

"Are you sure you have got the right side of the pier, Pow?" he asked.

"Yes, it is the north side. The paper distinctly says so."

"Well, that was the seventh pile, all right. I can't believe the case is there."

"We ought to try it by daylight," said the Chinaman. "Suppose we ring off and come back in the early morning, Eddie?"

"That's what we shall have to do, I guess. Still, one couldn't see much down there anyhow without a light. That's what we ought to have."

"Are there electric lights made for the use of divers?"

"Sure."

"Well, if we don't succeed I'll buy one, no matter what it costs. I don't propose to give this thing up for two or three days anyhow. But you will try it again, Eddie?" he added persuasively.

"Oh, yes," replied Ed. "I don't mind trying it again, but say, Pow, does the paper tell which end of the pier to count the piles from?"

"Why, no, it don't."

"Which end did you count from?"

"The outside end."

"Suppose I try it at the seventh pile, counting from the inside end?"

"Well, that's an idea. Suppose you do."

Pow Chow now counted the piles from the other end.

No. 7 figured this way came in an entirely different spot.

Rested now, Ed dove again.

At last he came up out of the water, swam to the standing ladder, and holding on, called:

"Well, there is something there!"

"Good! Good!" cried the Chinaman, greatly excited. "Is it a tin case?"

"I think so. It's metal of some kind."

"Why didn't you bring it up?"

"I couldn't unhitch the stone. It is tied fast to a rope."

"You don't say! Eddie, we are going to get it all right."

"It looks so. I'll try it again in a minute. This time I guess I shall be able to unhitch the stone all right."

"Better take down a knife and cut the rope."

"I will if I have to, but it will hamper me. I'd sooner try it the other way first."

Now Ed was not giving out the facts of his discovery straight.

He had not only found one tin case down there, but two.

They were exactly alike, and both had a rope attached to a small ring, the other end being fastened around a stone.

One of these stones the boy had already unhitched.

He knew that he could not successfully handle both cases, although they were by no means bulky.

He did not bring the one he had detached up, because he wanted time to think.

There seemed but one way out of it.

He must abandon his clothes if he wanted to escape from Pow Chow with the money.

Disagreeable as this prospect seemed, Ed determined to risk it and to swim off as soon as he came to the surface.

But a few minutes' reflection changed that.

"I'll come up under the pier and lie low," he said to himself. "He'll think I'm drowned. Mebbe he'll leave my clothes there and I can get them later. If I swim off he'll carry them away sure."

This seemed better than the first plan.

Ed climbed upon the pier for another dive.

Pow Chow questioned him closely.

"We are going to get it, Eddie!" he exclaimed. "We are going to get it, surest thing. If the money is there all right we will all take the first train for San Francisco. Cut out Albany. Your father is half dead, and you don't care for your mother anyway. Come along with us and I'll make a man of you. What do you say?"

"Well, mebbe I will," replied Ed, willing to fool the fellow now that he felt he had got the game in his own hands.

Again he dove.

Descending to the base of the pile, he made his capture.

"Had the money been divided into two parcels?" he asked himself.

He could account for the presence of the two cases in no other way, and yet according to Pow Chow the paper mentioned only one.

Clutching his prize, Ed swam in and rose to the surface under the pier as he had expected.

He looked around for something to hold on to, but it was too dark to see much.

Swimming forward among the piles a few feet, he was suddenly startled by seeing a large boat right ahead of him.

At first he thought he could see a man pull down out of sight into the bottom of the boat.

Treading water and looking again, he could see nobody.

Doubtful what to do, Ed called in a low voice:

"Hello, there! Hello, the boat!"

There was no answer. No one raised up in the boat.

"Strange I didn't see that boat before," muttered Ed. "It must just be tied up under here. There can't be anyone in it or they would have shown themselves by this time. I'll go for it."

He had succeeded in convincing himself that the boat was empty.

Such is the reasoning of a boy; such the chances a boy takes.

For Ed it was a great big miss.

He reached the boat, clutched the gunwale, which was unusually high, and throwing in the case, pulled himself up.

Instantly strong hands clutched him, and he was pulled down on top of two men. Ed was terribly frightened.

So certain was he that he was making no mistake that he had taken almost no precaution towards the last.

The men got him by the throat, punched his head, kicked him and choked him till he was subdued.

Meanwhile Ed made noise enough for Pow Chow to hear.

The Chinaman probably heard something else, too – the boat pulling out from under the pier.

Doubtless that was the time the Bradys saw him bending over the stringpiece.

Ed heard him.

"Eddie! Eddie!" he called. "What's the matter, Eddie? Speak!"

Then a shot rang out.

Ed, who was just picking himself up, saw now that the men were both Chinese.

One worked the oars, the other held a smoking revolver.

They gabbled to each other in Chinese.

Ed was half frightened to death as he got up on the seat.

He could see people running towards the pier, but he could see nothing of Pow Chow.

"They've shot him!" he thought. "Well, I don't care so much, but what will they do with me?"

Just now they were paying little heed to him.

Ed determined to tumble overboard.

But at this he was caught.

That was the time the Bradys saw the two Chinamen attack the boy and tumble him into the bottom of the boat.

Ed fought and struggled, but the Chinaman with the revolver pressed the weapon against his naked left breast and gruffly ordered him to keep still unless he wanted to be killed.

Completely cowed now, Ed made no further resistance.

He felt that he had made but a poor exchange.

He wished now that he had played fair with Pow Chow, as well he might.

By this time they were well out on the Sound.

The two Chinks talked incessantly, but of course Ed could make nothing of what they were saying.

In spite of their distance from shore, Ed would have taken to the water but for the revolver which the Chinaman never moved.

At last the other shipped his oars, and producing a rope, proceeded to tie Ed's hands behind him, tumbling the boy about as roughly as if he had been a wooden block.

This done, he picked up the case, and with a small hammer and a little cold chisel proceeded to attack it.

Ed watched him curiously.

At last the lid was pried off and the critical moment came.

As the Chinaman looked into the case he threw it down in disgust.

More hinging and hanging – the same old Chinese gabble so tiresome to a white man's ears.

The other picked up the case and proceeded to examine its contents.

A number of sheets of paper covered with writing came out, and that was all.

Ed did not need to understand Chinese to know how disgusted these two yellow scamps were.

They gabbled on.

One was about to throw the case overboard, but the other prevented him.

This was the man with the revolver – he had put up his weapon now.

"Get up," he said to Ed.

"Can't," was the reply.

The Chinaman soon settled that.

Clutching the naked boy by the hair, he lifted him upon the seat and then thrust the papers upon him.

"What dlese?" he demanded.

"I can't see to read," growled Ed.

The Chinaman settled that, too.

Producing an electric flash lantern, he turned it on the papers.

Ed now saw that these were pension rolls for the Albany district, dating back ten years.

He was familiar with them, for his father, as we have said, was employed in the pension office and handled just such rolls.

Ed tried to explain, and the Chinaman seemed to understand.

"When you fishee dlis up you see noder box dlown dlere in water?" he demanded.

"No," replied Ed.

"Boy, you tellee big lie. Lookee out! Me shootee you! Me tlow you overboard – see?"

Out came the revolver again.

It looked as if the Chink meant what he said.

We must confess that Ed might have held out a little longer.

He gave right up, however, and admitted that there was another box.

"Me knew it!" cried the Chinaman triumphantly. "Yair, dlat it. Him puttee plaper one box, money in noder box. Yair! Bad job you no blingee two blox up out of water. Yair."

Ed was not so sure.

He felt, however, that by holding out the possibility of recovering the other case he had saved his life.

Perhaps it was so.

The other Chink now picked up his oars and pulled steadily on.