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The Flying Machine Boys in the Wilds

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CHAPTER XXIV.
THE END OF THE MYSTERY

As Redfern and his two companions advanced down the apartment, their revolvers leveled, Havens and Sam dropped their hands away from their automatics.

“Hardly quick enough, Havens,” Redfern said, advancing with a wicked smile on his face. “To tell you the truth, old fellow, we have been looking for you for a couple of days!”

“I’ve been looking for you longer than that!” replied Mr. Havens.

“Well,” Redfern said with a leer, “it seems that we have both met our heart’s desire. How are your friends?”

“Sound asleep and perfectly happy,” replied the millionaire.

“You mean that they were asleep when you left them.”

“Certainly!”

“Fearful that they might oversleep themselves,” Redfern went on, “I sent my friends to awake them. They may be here at any moment now. I expect to hold quite a reception to-night.”

Laying his automatic down on the floor, Havens walked deliberately to a great easy-chair which stood not far away and sat down. No one would judge from the manner of the man that he was not resting himself in one of his own cosy rooms at his New York hotel. Sam was not slow in following the example of his employer. Redfern frowned slightly at the nonchalance of the man.

“You make yourself at home!” he said.

“I have a notion,” replied Mr. Havens, “that I paid for most of this furniture. I think I have a right to use it.”

“Look here, Havens,” Redfern said, “you have no possible show of getting out of this place alive unless you come to terms with me.”

“From the lips of any other man in the world I might believe the statement,” Mr. Havens replied. “But you, Redfern, have proven yourself to be such a consummate liar that I don’t believe a word you say.”

“Then you’re not open to compromise?”

Havens shook his head.

There was now a sound of voices in what seemed to be a corridor back of the great apartment, and in a moment Glenn and Carl were pushed into the room, their wrists bound tightly together, their eyes blinking under the strong electric light. Both boys were almost sobbing with rage and shame.

“They jumped on us while we were asleep!” cried Carl.

Redfern went to the back of the room and looked out into the passage.

“Where are the others?” he asked of some one who was not in sight.

“These boys were the only ones remaining in camp,” was the reply.

“Redfern,” said Havens, as coolly as if he had been sitting at his own desk in the office of the Invincible Trust Company, “will you tell me how you managed to get these boys here so quickly?”

“Not the slightest objection in the world,” was the reply. “There is a secret stairway up the cliff. You took a long way to get here in that clumsy old machine.”

“Thank you!” said Mr. Havens.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Redfern said, “we’ll introduce you to your new quarters. They are not as luxurious as those you occupy in New York, but I imagine they will serve your purpose until you are ready to come to terms.”

He pointed toward the two prisoners, and the men by his side advanced with cords in their hands. Havens extended his wrists with a smile on his face and Sam did likewise.

“You’re good sports,” cried Redfern. “It’s a pity we can’t come to terms!”

“Never mind that!” replied Havens. “Go on with your program.”

Redfern walked back to the corridor and the prisoners heard him dismissing some one for the night.

“You may go to bed now,” he said. “Your work has been well done. The two men with me will care for the prisoners.”

The party passed down a stone corridor to the door of a room which had evidently been used as a fortress dungeon in times past. Redfern turned a great key in the lock and motioned the prisoners inside.

At that moment he stood facing the prisoners with the two others at his sides, all looking inquiringly into the faces of those who were taking their defeat so easily.

As Redfern swung his hand toward the open door he felt something cold pressing against his neck. He turned about to face an automatic revolver held in the hands of Ben Whitcomb! His two accomplices moved forward a pace in defense, but drew back when they saw the automatic in Jimmie’s hand within a foot of their breasts.

“And now,” said Mr. Havens, as coolly as if the situation was being put on in a New York parlor, “you three men will please step inside.”

“I’m a game loser, too!” exclaimed Redfern.

In a moment the door was closed and locked and the cords were cut from the hands of the four prisoners.

“Good!” said Jimmie. “I don’t know what you fellows would do without me. I’m always getting you out of scrapes!”

What was said after that need not be repeated here. It is enough to say that Mr. Havens thoroughly appreciated the service which had been rendered.

“The game is played to the end, boys,” he said in a moment. “The only thing that remains to be done is to get Redfern down the secret stairway to the machines. The others we care nothing about.”

“I know where that secret stairway is,” Ben said. “While we were sneaking around here in the darkness, a fellow came climbing up the stairs, grunting as though he had reached the top of the Washington monument.”

“Where were the others put to bed?” asked Sam. “We heard Redfern dismiss them for the night. Did you see where they went?”

“Sure!” replied Jimmie. “They’re in a room opening from this corridor a little farther down.”

Mr. Havens took the key from the lock of the door before him and handed it to Jimmie.

“See if you can lock them in with this,” he said.

The boy returned in a moment with a grin on his face.

“They are locked in!” he said.

“Are there any others here?” asked Havens.

Jimmie shook his head.

“They all go away at night,” he declared, “after they turn out the ghost lights. Redfern it seems keeps only those two with him for company. Their friends will unlock them in the morning.”

Mr. Havens opened the door and called out to Redfern, who immediately appeared in the opening.

“Search his pockets and tie his hands,” the millionaire said, turning to Sam. “You know what this means, Redfern?” he added to the prisoner.

“It means Sing Sing,” was the sullen reply, “but there are plenty of others who will keep me company.”

“That’s the idea!” cried Havens. “That’s just why I came here! I want the officials of the new trust company more than I want you.”

“You’ll get them if I have my way about it!” was the reply.

An hour later the Ann and the Louise dropped down in the green valley by the camp-fire. Redfern was sullen at first, but before the start which was made soon after sunrise he related to Havens the complete story of his embezzlement and his accomplices. He told of the schemes which had been resorted to by the officials of the new trust company to keep him out of the United States, and to keep Havens from reaching him.

The Flying Machine Boys parted with Havens at Quito, the millionaire aviator going straight to Panama with his prisoner, while the boys camped and hunted and fished in the Andes for two weeks before returning to New York.

It had been the intention of the lads to bring Doran and some of the others at Quito to punishment, but it was finally decided that the victory had been so complete that they could afford to forgive their minor enemies. They had been only pawns in the hands of a great corporation.

“The one fake thing about this whole proposition,” Jimmie said as the boys landed in New York, sunburned and happy, “is that alleged Mystery of the Andes! It was too commonplace—just a dynamo in a subterranean mountain stream, and electric lights! Say,” he added, with one of his inimitable grins, “electricity makes pretty good ghost lights, though!”

“Redfern revealed his residence by trying to conceal it!” declared Ben. “That is the usual way. Still,” he went on, “the Mystery was some mystery for a long time! It must have cost a lot to set the stage for it.”

The next day Mr. Havens called to visit the boys at their hotel.

“While you were loafing in the mountains,” he said, after greetings had been exchanged, “the murderer of Hubbard confessed and was sentenced to die in the electric chair. Redfern and half a dozen directors of the new trust company have been given long sentences at Sing Sing.”

“There are associates that ought to go, too!” Jimmie cried.

“We’re not going to prosecute them,” Mr. Havens answered. “But this is not to the point. The Federal Government wants you boys to undertake a little mission for the Secret Service men. You see,” he went on, “you boys made quite a hit in that Peruvian job.”

“Will Sam go?” asked Ben.

“Sam is Sam no longer,” replied Mr. Havens, with a laugh. “He is now Warren P. King, son of the banker! What do you think of that?”

“Then what was he doing playing the tramp?” asked Carl.

“Oh, he quarreled with his father, and it was the old story, but it is all smooth sailing for him now. He may go with you, but his father naturally wants him at home for a spell.”

“Where are we to go?” asked Ben.

“I’ll tell you that later,” was the reply. “Will you go?”

The boys danced around the room and declared that they were ready to start that moment. The story of their adventures on the trip will be found in the next volume of this series, entitled:

“The Flying Machine Boys on Secret Service; or, the Capture in the Air!”

THE END