CHAPTER XVIII
The Trap
The following morning the boys rose early. They had had a refreshing and restful sleep and they were now ready and eager to carry out their plan. William supervised the preparation of breakfast and each one of them had a hearty and satisfactory meal. Tom Woods, too, had by now sufficiently recovered to have a full meal. He even declaimed that he now felt as well as ever. But the shadows under his eyes and the paleness of his skin told a silent story of horrible torture.
The agent rose to his feet and stretched himself. He called Paul over and asked, “Do you mind lending that automatic of yours? And also the cartridges. I may have to use them.”
Paul surrendered the pistol and ammunition. Several minutes later, Wallace called out, “I’m ready, Mr. Woods, if you are.”
“I’m also ready, so let’s go.”
Wallace shouldered his knapsack and waving goodbye to the other boys who were busy breaking camp, he and the agent set off. As for the rest of the group, just as soon as everything was ready, they set off for their destination—their old camp ground, which they reached at about noon. After a fifteen minute rest, lunch was prepared. Paul then declared a thirty minute rest period, adding, “We have a lot of hard work ahead of us which must be accomplished before nightfall. So relax, then we will get to work.”
Ken was left behind to keep guard at camp and put it into order. The other boys set off, with the cave their destination. When they got there, Bobolink and Nuthin’ were stationed at strategic points to keep a careful watch. Paul, Jack and William hid in the shrubbery. Paul picked up several light stones and threw them at the door of the cave. Some moments passed. The boys, anxious and determined, breathed hard. Jack crept forward on his hands and knees and moving so that the door would act as a shield, he slowly and quietly opened the door wide. There was no one in the front compartment of the cave and the door was closed. Jack crept back into hiding and now Paul and William rose to their feet and stole quietly away. The two boys crossed the stream and came upon the shrubbery-hidden opening that led to the back of the cave. Paul crept in; William kept guard. In a short while Paul came out. “How does it look inside?” William asked.
“The place is just full of wooden cases and boxes. They must have been here very recently and we missed them.”
“That’s nothing. Since they have their baggage here yet, they will come back. If not today, then tomorrow or the next day. In the meanwhile, I’m going back to give Jack the word. Is that all right?”
“Yes. If you two get through with your job first, come and give me a hand.”
“Very well.”
William disappeared and Paul set to work. Jack was waiting for William to return and just as soon as he did, the two boys got busy in front of and around the cave. They worked arduously and quickly. Finally the boys were done and without hesitating or wasting a minute, they set out to help Paul whom they met on the way. “You have everything finished?” the latter asked.
The boys nodded. “And you?” queried William.
“All done.”
“Good.”
The boys returned to their camp. It was already dark when William appeared. “Well, did anything happen?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “And here?”
“Nothing.”
Early the following morning, Jack left camp. He walked at a steady rapid pace and in about three hours he arrived at the farm house. Wallace had told him that Tom Woods would meet him there. He searched for some sign of the agent and finding none, he entered the yard and crept stealthily along, aiming for a position which would keep him in hiding while he had a good view of the road and most of the yard. He gained his goal and stretched himself out on the ground, prepared to wait until the agent showed up. Suddenly he felt the presence of someone close to him. He bounded up from the earth, but Tom Woods grabbed him and pulled him down again. The man laughed. “It’s all right, boy,” he whispered.
“Whew! You certainly scared me, Mr. Woods!” Jack exclaimed, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Just a little foolish playfulness on my part,” the agent stated. “What’s the news from camp?”
“Nothing happened. The boys did everything they were supposed to and everything is ready to greet the gang.”
“That’s good. I have a faint suspicion that we won’t have to wait for them long either.”
“You think they’ll come today?”
“Most likely. Though I wouldn’t swear to it. Nothing is certain, you know.”
They lay there side by side and conversed in very low whispers. Woods questioned the boy about his home, his activities, his friends and all sorts of little details about his life. In return he told many anecdotes of his experiences. He possessed a very fine sense of humor and he twisted every story he told into a humorous narrative. He had Jack giggling most of the time.
It turned out that Tom Woods was wrong and nothing happened that day. Towards nightfall, he instructed Jack to return to camp, tell the boys to be ever on the watch and have Wallace come down the following morning. It was quite dark when he reached camp and he was so tired that after a sandwich he turned in for the night.
Wallace rose with the dawn and wasted no time getting set for his hike down the mountain. When he arrived at the farm house, Tom Woods played the same trick on him as he did on Jack. Side by side, the two lay in hiding and waited. “What did the boys do yesterday?” asked the agent.
“They kept watch all day long but nothing happened.”
“It will today,” asserted Woods.
All day long they lay in hiding and waited. It appeared as though Tom Woods was wrong again. But that did not despair him. He continued telling his humorous anecdotes and kept himself and his companion cheerful. The sun swung across the horizon. Noon came and passed. The hours dragged along. Towards five o’clock, the government agent suddenly broke off in the middle of a sentence; he became very alert. Wallace felt a cold chill run down his spine. Woods hurriedly whispered, “Don’t get excited. Stay under cover until I tell you otherwise.”
A car swung slowly in from the road into the yard. Behind the farm house, it stopped. Wallace whispered to his companion, “The one at the wheel—Bud, the stranger.”
Woods nodded. He held the automatic ready. As the car stopped, Bud jumped out and called back over his shoulder, “Just want to take a look around. It’ll take me only a minute.”
The agent crept away. Silently he tiptoed from behind the car. Coming close, he hissed. “One move or sound and you’re dead. Put up your hands.”
The gangster raised his hands above his head and moved to step out of the car. As he did so, he made a quick, wild move for his pocket. Woods swung, hitting the gangster an awful wallop on the chin with the butt end of his gun. The gangster let out a yell as he went down in a heap. The agent quickly crawled behind the car. Bud came running from around the corner of the house and hid himself behind a tree. He waited. Woods also crouched and waited, but became impatient and fired across the top of the car. No answer.
Wallace was still lying in the same position and eagerly watched the proceedings. He was anxious and excited. He wondered what he could do to help but he realized that for the present the best he could do was to keep out of the way and let the two fight it out. One of them, he thought, would surely never leave that yard alive. He only hoped that everything would come out for the best.
Bud stretched himself out on the ground and began to shoot wildly, combing the ground. A pause came as the gangster took time out to reload his gun. Tom Woods took the opportunity to make a dash of several yards and throw himself behind a pile of logs which he had set up for the occasion. He shifted his position for two reasons: one was that the car did not offer a good enough barricade and secondly to draw the firing away from the direction where Wallace was hiding.
A fraction of a second after he threw himself behind the barricade, a bullet buried itself in one of the logs. The agent answered it by sending a bullet that just skimmed the bark of the tree. Tom Woods waited. He was in a better position than his enemy. Safe behind his barricade, he also had an open view of the yard and gate and he could not be taken unawares by anyone coming from that direction. Of course, he might be surprised by someone coming from the mountain, but that was unlikely because he could, without endangering himself, frequently turn his head, and scan the outlying woods and farmland. On the other hand, Bud was in a precarious position. He had only one alternative and that was to flee. But to leave his safe position behind the tree was to invite a bullet from Tom Woods’ gun, which might be fatal. So he also settled down to watchful waiting. Now while the agent was in no hurry and had plenty of time, the gangster was anxious and in a hurry to get to the cave. Without doubt, the government agent had the advantage.
In the meanwhile, Wallace wondered what he could do to help end the situation quickly in favor of his friend. After Tom Woods took up his new position, he felt that Bud’s attention would be entirely taken up by the agent and that he was free to move away from his spot. Crawling on his belly, he moved slowly and gradually. Finally he came to a position that placed him to the rear and to left of the gangster. He picked out a good-sized stone and, rising on his knees, took careful aim and hurled the missile. Then he fell quickly under cover.
The stone missed its objective and bounced off the tree. However, it attracted Bud’s attention. The gangster turned quickly and fired twice in the direction from which he thought the stone came. In doing that, however, he exposed his arm up to his elbow. The next instant he let out a most horrible scream. The agent had sent a bullet through the gangster’s wrist. The pain was real but the intensity of the yell was a foil. The gangster bounded forward to recover his weapon which had fallen out of his hand. The next moment he uttered a deep cry and toppled over. A bullet from Woods’ gun had pierced his throat.
Suddenly everything was silent again. There was a long pause. Tom Woods lay behind his barricade and waited, while Wallace, in his hiding place, also did not move. When he thought it was all right, the agent came out from behind his shelter and called for Wallace to come forward but to be careful. First they attended the gangster who was knocked out by Tom Woods. The stricken man, at the first touch, moaned. The agent put his hand to the man’s jaw and the gangster bounded up as if he had been struck by an electric shock. Wallace whispered, “You must have cracked his jaw when you hit him.”
“Guess so. Give me a hand and we’ll carry him to the barn.”
Bud, lifeless now, was also carried to the barn. Removing the clothes of the two gangsters, the agent and Wallace donned them. Wallace looked a little ridiculous in his outfit but his companion fixed him up so that he looked all right. Finally, they tied up the wounded man so that he couldn’t escape, and tied a handkerchief over his mouth so that he could not cry out. The two came out of the barn. The agent held one of the automatics used by the gangsters and said, “Here, you had better take it boy. It may come in handy later.”
Wallace hesitated but finally he took it and put it into his pocket. They walked over to the car. All the windows were shattered and one tire was flat. Wallace said, “A couple of holes in the gas tank.”
Woods looked and then remarked, “We can plug the holes up; they are not at the bottom of the tank which is something to be thankful for. And we will have enough gas in there to make the ten miles.”
The two of them set to work. Under the front seat they found tools with which to remove the flat tire and put on the spare. Getting into the car, the agent started it up and they were off. Wallace showed him the road and Woods hurried to get to the cave. After a while, he laughed and asked, “Well, how did you enjoy the little shooting match?”
“I can’t say that I particularly enjoyed it. It’s too bad that Bud was killed.”
“I guess you’re right, boy. I don’t enjoy killing anyone either. But sometimes it just can’t be helped.”
“I guess that’s true, Mr. Woods. But it is too bad that it ever has to be done.”
“Well, when we get a better social system in which men and women will have no reason to be dishonest then there won’t be any shooting of anyone, I guess.”
Wallace had nothing to say, so he kept quiet. After a while, the government agent said, “When you come to think of it, you had more to do with the death of that gangster than I did.”
“How do you mean?” questioned Wallace anxiously.
“You threw the stone and forced him to expose himself.”
“Yes, but you did the shooting.”
“Of course, but—well, never mind. Let’s talk of something else.”
They rode along, the agent telling a cheerful anecdote while Wallace listened.
CHAPTER XIX
At The Cave Again
By the time all the boys had washed and dressed, William had breakfast ready. Most of them were tense and impatient, but on the whole, they felt good. Leaving Jack behind to keep guard at the camp and clean up the dishes in the meanwhile, the boys set out for the cave. At their destination, the boys separated, each going to his station where he lay in hiding and watched. As the hours passed slowly and wearily, most of the boys became a little cranky and impatient. Paul decided to go from boy to boy, talk to him for a while and try to calm him.
At noon, Bluff was sent back to camp and Jack returned with sandwiches he had prepared and canteens of ice cold water from the stream. Paul went to each boy in turn and passed out the sandwiches and a drink of water. And again it became a matter of watchful and patient waiting. Jack, lying close to Paul, asked, “You think they’ll come today?”
“It’s hard to tell. But they are about due.”
“Mr. Woods thinks that they will surely appear today.” Pause. Deadly silence except for the breeze fluttering through the branches and leaves. “You know,” Jack added, “this is getting on my nerves already. I’d like to see it come off and be through with it.”
“Patience, Jack,” his friend continued, “you can’t hurry a situation like this.”
Paul moved away and went to keep someone else company for a while.
At about six o’clock, Jack, who was watching the road, was suddenly brought out of his lethargic position. Sprawling on the ground, he thought he heard the sound of a motor. Putting his ear to the earth, he listened for some moments to the rumbling sounds that came to his ear. The car was several hundred yards away yet when he spied it. Quickly and noiselessly, he picked himself up and sprinted away. He came upon Paul and told him the news. Not hesitating in the least, Paul told him where to take up his position and what to do. Then Paul ran on and passed the word for all of them to be on the alert.
Paul returned and took his place beside Jack. As they waited, every second seemed to stretch out into an hour. Those who were in the car—whoever they were—were apparently in no hurry. Finally, after what seemed an endless wait, Paul nudged Jack and pointed out two moving figures. Holding their breaths, they watched and waited. The boys were quite positive that the moving figures would head for the clearing and cross it. Then they were greeted by a surprise—a shocking surprise—that awaited them. But they were disappointed. Jack whispered, “They’re heading this way.”
“Yes. You think they have any suspicion of what’s awaiting them?”
“I don’t think it matters. Our plan takes care of anything that might be different than we expect.”
The boys kept quiet. Two figures passed within five feet of them. Jack began to fidget as the figures were passing. Paul had a hard time controlling him, keeping him from talking. As the two men passed, Jack whispered, “There’s something familiar about the fellow in the lead; something about his walk.”
“I was just going to say the same.”
The boys held their breaths. As the two men approached one of the traps, they stopped. Some whispering went on between them, as though one was explaining something to the other. A minute later, the one who had been doing all the explaining, put his fingers between his lips and gave a low, shrill whistle. Jack wanted to jump up and run over. “The one who whistled is Wallace,” he whispered as Paul held him.
“Most likely is, but let’s wait and make sure.”
There was a pause of a minute or so. Again the man whistled, then they both waved handkerchiefs. Paul and Jack then came out of hiding as they finally recognized Tom Woods and Wallace. Jack was sent to notify the other boys and to instruct them to continue their watch. In the meanwhile, the three of them withdrew to take counsel together. The government agent said, “You boys have it all fixed up here. A man couldn’t get away to save his life. I think you have done marvelously well.”
Paul smiled. “We have laid our plans very carefully,” he answered, “and we hope everything will come off all right.”
“I hope so too.”
Just then an airplane fell out of the sky and dived straight for the ground. Straightening out at about five hundred feet up, the plane circled the field several times. Wallace whispered, “That’s the same plane we told you about. We saw it land here once before. I remember it well.”
Tom Woods barked, “Keep quiet now and don’t move; we may be seen from above.”
“No chance of that, sir,” answered Paul. “From up above they can’t see a thing except the top of the trees. We had better hurry and take our positions before they land.”
With Paul in the lead, the three of them sprinted from cover to cover and took their positions. At the last moment the government agent told the boys to hurry and move away somewhere else—take some other position. If there was any shooting, he didn’t want them to be in line of fire.
The boys moved off. The plane in the meanwhile had glided down to a landing. It was quite a large, powerful ship with a double motor. Two men jumped to the ground. The one in the lead was recognized by the boys as the Chief. Very unconcernedly, the two walked across the clearing and headed directly for the cave. As they came to the edge of the woods, the chief, for no reason and without any provocation as far as it could be determined, whipped a gun out of his pocket and fired across the top of the cave. Tom Woods, who thought that he was firing at one of the boys, sent a bullet whistling past their heads. The trap which the boys had laboriously prepared and set was now a futile gesture. Whereas if they had walked into the trap as set, there would have been no bloodshed; now it seemed inevitable.
The two gangsters now dropped to the ground and sent bullets whistling in a semi-circle. To rise and dash back to their plane was suicide. They would be in the open, a clear and perfect target for Tom Woods’ bullets. On the other hand, dropping to the ground and taking shelter where they did, they forestalled being surrounded by the boys. As for the government agent, there was nothing he could do to obtain a more advantageous position. Of course, he could have one of the boys keep up a withering fire while he crept to their side or their rear. But he was against risking the life of any one of the boys.
For a while only occasional shots were exchanged. Suddenly Tom became aware that the two gangsters had devised a means of escape, if not for both, at least for one of them. The two were separating, moving further apart slowly and gradually. The agent realized that their plan was to separate a certain distance, so that one of them would keep him occupied while the other crept back to the plane. It was a clever and subtle plan and from every indication it appeared that they would succeed. They were also most probably aware that only one man faced them. Under that condition, there was nothing Tom could do that would prevent the one who got back to the plane from returning with help. Or possibly he might bring out of the plane a machine gun, and that would be enough to wipe him out. He became really worried. What could he do to prevent one of them from reaching the plane.
He determined that as long as it was possible for him to do so, he would fire alternately at both racketeers and occupy both of them. He also wondered what the boys were doing. “But,” he thought to himself, “I had better keep from thinking of anything else and concentrate my attention on those two gangsters. I’m positive the boys will be able to take care of themselves.”
Tom noticed that slowly and gradually the gangster on his right was moving backwards, and each time he fired at the moving form, he was answered by the second man, the one on his left. The spasmodic shooting kept up for almost half an hour. Suddenly there was heard the roar of the airplane motor; in an instant, the machine was turning into the wind and taxiing for a take-off. Both Tom Woods as well as the gangsters were so surprised that they almost forgot each other. As the plane was still taxiing across the field, one of the racketeers sent a couple of ineffective bullets after the machine; but the shots did no harm. The plane rose off the ground easily. Tom rationalized to himself, “Whoever it was that escaped with the plane, couldn’t be a friend of theirs, or he wouldn’t have fired at it.”
Tom’s ammunition was running low and he could answer only one shot to his enemy’s three or four. Five or ten minutes after the plane had gotten away, he was again astounded to realize that someone was firing at the gangsters from their rear. “Must be Wallace,” he thought to himself.
And so it was. Paul and he had withdrawn at the behest of Tom Woods. Eagerly they watched the battle. Several times Wallace wanted to use the gun the government agent had given him but Paul held him back. They, too, soon became aware of the manoeuver of the two gangsters to permit one of them to return to the plane. Cautioning Wallace on how to behave himself and what to do, Paul crept away and was soon out of sight. A short while later Wallace heard the roar of the motor and he heaved a sigh of relief as he watched the plane take off. He was positive that one of his comrades was escaping with the plane, though he couldn’t imagine who. As for himself, now was the time to act, he thought; the two were trapped. Moving closer to the edge of the woods and picking out a sound shelter and one that placed him well to the rear of the gangsters, he aimed carefully and fired his first shot.
Now to return to Tom Woods, the government agent. Realizing that someone was attacking from the rear, perhaps it was Wallace or maybe Paul, he tried to trick the gangsters into surrendering, “You better throw down your guns and surrender, you two,” he called out. “That was the signal that my men have arrived. You can’t get away now.”
“We’ll give you hell first,” cried the chief.
“Very well, then,” returned the agent. “I’ll count three. If you don’t surrender, I’ll give my men the signal to blast you to hell. One!”
The smugglers answered with a volley of shots. “Two!” cried Tom.
The gangsters withheld their fire. They waited. “Three!” The word echoed through the stillness of the woods.
“Go to hell!” answered the chief. “How the devil did you ever break your chains and escape, you flatfoot?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” countered Tom.
“Yes, tell me.”
“When I have you in jail. Then I’ll pay you a visit and tell you all about it.”
“I should have cut your throat instead of merely chaining you.”
“Why didn’t you? Soft-hearted or something?”
The chief answered with his gun. Tom raised his voice and cried, loud enough to be heard a mile away, “All right! Shoot to kill.”
He had two guns and he shot from both of them as quickly as he could pull the trigger. Wallace, who heard him, took the cue and also emptied his revolver. The effect was that the two smugglers seemed to be attacked on all sides.
Silence ensued, suddenly broken by a shot coming from a third direction. A piercing cry cut short the echo of the bullet. The chief bounded up from the ground and then fell back again, dead. Tom wondered who it was that had shot. He took advantage of it, however, and called out, “Hey, Smoky, do you want to give up or do you want to join your chief?”
There was a pause. Smoky answered, “I want to give up. Tell your men not to fire.”
Tom cried out, “Hold your fire!” To the gangster, he said, “Now, drop your gun and stand up.” The smuggler complied. “Raise your hands above your head. Now turn around. You make one move and you’ll go home in a box.”
Smoky complied willingly. The government agent dashed from one cover to another, his gun ready for action should the smuggler change his mind. Finally, stepping forward softly, he came up behind the gangster. Taking a short piece of rope that he carried in his pocket, the agent tied the smuggler’s hands behind his back. Just then Wallace stepped forth out of the woods, and handed Tom several yards of sturdy rope which the agent used to tie the smuggler’s hands and feet. That done, he turned to the boy and said, “I think it’s all right now to get the boys together.”
Wallace nodded. He whistled three times and the boys crept like shadows through the woods. They met in front of the cave. The government agent looked at the boys, their expressions still set and determined and their eyes full of wonder and anxiety. He laughed. “Everything is all right now, boys. You may relax.” He turned to Paul and asked, “Where did you get that rifle?”
Paul scrutinized his weapon. “Inside the cave,” he answered. “Bullets too.”
“And you were the one that shot the chief?”
Paul looked away embarrassed. “I was terribly surprised to see him topple over. Because I didn’t even aim at him.”
The boys and the government agent joined in laughing heartily. “So!” Tom muttered, twisting the words into a humorous expression, “You don’t aim but you hit the bull’s eye just the same!”
Their laughter was interrupted by the roar of an airplane overhead. They watched the machine lose altitude gradually and continually circle around and around. When it was at about a thousand feet, Wallace exclaimed, “It’s the same machine.”
“Who escaped with the plane, by the way?” asked Tom Woods.
The boys looked at each other. “Who is missing?” asked Paul.
“William.”
“Jack.”
“Anyone else?”
“Bluff, but he’s at camp.”
“Then it must have been William and Jack who are in the plane,” Paul stated.
“Then you had better wave to them. Signal them to land,” said the agent.
They all ran to the clearing and waved. As the huge machine showed that it was going to land, all of them retreated, so that the plane might have a perfectly clear space in order to land. Tom remarked, “I didn’t know you had aviators among your group.”
Wallace informed him, “Six of us are pilots.”
“And you never told me!” The agent said that he was angry that they had kept the information from him. “In the meanwhile,” he called out, “you boys take shelter. It doesn’t pay to take chances and we really don’t know who is in the plane.”
The boys took up hiding positions and watched the machine descend to a perfect landing.