A LETTER COMES
Nobody had come through the passage into the cave save Bilby and the boatman. Chess stood where he could keep half an eye, at least, upon the opening, and although the passage was filled with shadow he was quite sure there was nobody lurking there who was friendly to the law-breakers.
“Just step around behind those two men and see if they are armed, Miss Ruth, will you?” went on Copley. “Take ’em from behind. Don’t get in line with my pistol. For if I begin to shoot, somebody is bound to get hit. Keep your hands up, you fellows!” and he gestured toward the Chinamen.
Even the two of their number who had been half-overcome with the fumes of opium had come to attention when Chess produced his pistol. The Chinamen huddled together at one side. The boatman and Bilby were opposite the doorway of the tunnel. Ruth promptly obeyed Chess and went around behind the last-named two of the enemy.
Ruth hesitated a moment in the dusk there at the opening of the passage. She hated to touch either Bilby or the other man. But probably both of them were armed, and for the sake of safety their weapons must be taken from them.
While she hesitated she heard a faint rustle in the passage. Then came the softest possible whisper:
“Ss-st!”
Ruth jumped and glanced over her shoulder. Was it friend or enemy who evidently tried to attract her attention by this sibilant sound?
A figure moved in the gloom. Before she could cry any warning to Copley an arm was put firmly about her and Ruth was almost lifted to one side. She saw the gleam of a weapon in the other hand of her neighbor, and the point of this weapon was dug suddenly into the broad back of the gruff boatman who was Bilby’s companion.
“Don’t get nervous, ’Lasses,” came in Tom Cameron’s voice. “We’re all friends here. Ah! A nice automatic pistol from our friend, Mr. Bilby. Just so. Here, Nell!”
But it was Ruth’s hand that took the captured weapon, although Helen stood at her side squeezing her other hand and whispering:
“My goodness, Ruthie, what a perfectly glorious experience! Are those the real smugglers?”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” replied her friend. Then she accepted the revolver extracted from the hip pocket of the boatman by Tom Cameron. “Where is the King of the Pipes?”
“Taking the air. We heard the talk below here through the hollow tree. Do you know,” whispered Helen, “that old beech is a regular chimney. And we saw the boat come here. Then we grabbed the King of the Pipes outside.”
“Tom did not hurt him, I hope?” murmured Ruth.
“Not a bit of it. In fact, the queer old fellow said he was willing to abdicate in Tom’s favor, and now, I suppose, Tommy-boy is King of the Pipes,” and Helen, the irrepressible, grinned.
The two ex-army men, however, took the matter quite seriously. Tom disarmed the Chinamen as well as the white men. And to search and disarm a squirming Oriental, they found not easy work.
“But I disarmed enough Fritzies in Europe to learn my job pretty well. How’s the weather, Sergeant?”
“All right here, Captain Cameron,” said Copley seriously.
“Then I’ll back out with this bunch of junk. Here’s a pair of brass knuckles in the bunch. I’ll use ’em on any of these fellows who try to run. We’ll keep ’em hived up here till the police come. One fellow can hold ’em. Unless they try to climb up that hollow beech tree.”
“No fear,” said Copley. “Get the girls out first.”
Tom had already loaded both Ruth and Helen down with the loot from the malefactors’ pockets. He motioned to the girls to leave the cavern.
“Hold on! Hold on!” Bilby cried. “I beg of you, don’t leave me with these men. I only happen to be here by chance—”
“A bad chance for you, then,” said Chess Copley. “Don’t listen to him, Captain Cameron.”
“No, don’t listen to him,” said Ruth severely. “I know he is worse than the others. Why, Tom! he is the man who has made us all that trouble about Wonota and my picture.”
“Sure,” agreed Tom. “I know the snake. Go ahead, girls. Chess and I will follow you. And one of us will be right in this passage all the time,” he added, addressing the two white men. “Don’t make any mistake. We’ll shoot if you try to come out until you are told to.”
The girls were already feeling their way through the darkness of the tunnel. At the turn Ruth kicked something, and, stooping, secured Chess’ electric torch. She pressed the switch and the illumination allowed the two young men to overtake them with more certainty, Chess backing out with his pistol trained on the opening into the cavern.
When once the four friends were around the turn and out of hearing of the prisoners, Tom Cameron began to chuckle.
“This is no laughing matter!” exclaimed his sister. “I am so excited I don’t know what to do.”
“Keep right on,” said Ruth. “I want to get home just as soon as I can. I don’t believe I shall care hereafter to leave the island until we are through with the picture and can go back to the Red Mill. What are you laughing about, Tom Cameron?”
“I don’t know how ’Lasses is fixed,” said the amused Tom. “But my pistol isn’t loaded. It is my old service automatic and needs repairing, anyway.”
“Don’t fret, Cameron. Mine is loaded all right,” said Chess grimly.
“Then you stay and guard the cave,” said Tom.
“You bet you! You couldn’t get me away from here until you have sent for the sheriff and he comes for the gang. I believe we have done a good night’s work.”
“Oh, you were wonderful!” Helen burst out. “And Ruth says they knocked you down and hurt you.”
“I shall get over that all right,” returned Chess quietly.
But when they were out of the passage and on the open shore Helen insisted upon fussing around Chessleigh, bathing the lump on his head, and otherwise “mothering” him in a way that secretly delighted Ruth. Tom looked at his sister in some amazement.
“What do you know about that?” he whispered to Ruth. “She was as sore at him as she could be an hour ago.”
“You don’t know your own sister very well, Tom,” retorted Ruth.
“Humph!” ejaculated Tom Cameron. “Perhaps we fellows don’t understand any girl very well.”
But Ruth was not to be led into any discussion of that topic then. It was agreed that she and Helen and Tom should hurry back to the motion picture camp at once.
“The King of the Pipes won’t bite you,” Tom said to Chess. “Only don’t let him go back into the cave. Those fellows might do him some harm. And the sheriff will want him for a witness against the gang. He is not so crazy as he makes out to be.”
The night’s adventures were by no means completed, for Ruth and Helen could not go to bed after they reached the bungalow until they knew how it all turned out. Mr. Hammond had returned before them, and Willie and Tom started at once for Chippewa Bay in the Gem.
The capture of Bilby in connection with the smugglers and Chinese runners delighted the motion picture producer.
“That will settle the controversy, I believe,” Mr. Hammond said to the two girls. “Bilby’s attempt to annoy us must fall through now. We will get Totantora and Wonota back from Canada and finish the picture properly. But, believe me! I have had all the experience I want with freak stars. The expense and trouble I have been put to regarding Wonota has taught me a lesson. I’d sell my contract with Wonota to-morrow—or after the picture is done—for a song.”
Ruth looked at him steadily for a moment.
“Do you mean that, Mr. Hammond?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, I do.”
Helen laughed. “I guess Ruth is thinking of singing that song. Ruth believes in Wonota.”
“If I could carry the tune,” her chum said, more lightly. “We’ll talk of that later, Mr. Hammond.”
“Oh, I would give you first chance, Miss Ruth,” said the producer. “By the way,” and he turned to his desk. “I brought mail from the town. Here are several letters for you, Miss Ruth, and one for Miss Cameron.”
The girls began to open their letters as soon as they reached their room. But it was Helen’s single epistle that created the most excitement.
“It’s from Carrie Perrin,” she said to Ruth. Then, in a moment, she uttered a cry that drew Ruth’s full attention. “Listen to this! What do you know about this, Ruth?”
“What is it, my dear?” asked her chum, in her usual composed manner.
“Just think of that!” cried Helen, in tears. “And I have treated him so hatefully. He’ll never forgive me in this world, I suppose. It is about Chess,” she sobbed, and handed her chum the letter.