CHAPTER VIII.
UNCLE JOHN SHOWS HIS METTLE.
When Uncle John fell to the floor, his first feeling was one of anger. He scarcely felt the sharp pain in his leg, where a bullet had grazed the skin. He saw Chester disappearing ahead of him, and his first thought was to get up and hurry after him.
He pulled himself to his feet and again moved toward the door. As he did so he felt a pair of arms thrown about him from behind. Uncle John turned to give battle to this assailant.
Now Uncle John was a big man and in his youth had been noted for his strength. Time had sapped his prowess, however, and he knew that he was no match for his adversary. Nevertheless, he determined to fight it out.
With an effort he shook off the encircling arms and faced his opponent, who proved to be none other than Robard himself. Bethinking himself of the days of his youth, when he had been considered something of a boxer, Uncle John decided to keep the other at arm's length, if possible. Therefore he squared off in most approved fashion.
It was plain that the Austrian was not an exponent of the art of self-defense and Uncle John sent three hard blows to the man's face, before the latter stepped back and sought to bring his revolver to bear. But Uncle John had no mind to be shot down and he sprang forward and seized the other in a fierce embrace. This style of fighting was more to the Austrian's liking.
A big man himself, he was nothing loath to test Uncle John's wrestling ability. He threw his arms about him, and the two struggled up and down the long hall, panting and gasping.
But the Austrian was a younger man and he soon realized that Uncle John was beginning to tire. The latter realized it also and knew that if he would be successful, it must be immediately. He put a foot in back of the Austrian and pushed hard. Robard lost his balance and fell, but he kept his grip, and Uncle John was pulled to the floor with him.
Uncle John freed an arm and planted his fist squarely in the Austrian's face. The latter gave a cry of rage and shouted for help. Uncle John smiled grimly.
"You'll need it," he said.
Again he raised a fist and brought it down with all his force. The Austrian's arms relaxed their grip. He quivered a bit, and then sank back unconscious. Uncle John got to his feet.
"I'm not so bad at that," he told himself modestly. "I wish the boys could have been here to see that. Now to get out of here."
He moved toward the door, but even as he would have opened it, it moved back and three men stepped inside. They saw Uncle John and the unconscious form of Robard at first glance, and sprang upon Uncle John with a shout.
Uncle John drew a long breath and waded into the midst of them.
The newcomers also proved to be novices in the fistic art, and as long as Uncle John was able to keep them at long range he gave a good account of himself. But, realizing that they were getting the worst of this kind of fighting, one of the men gave a command to close in. In vain Uncle John strove to keep them off. One threw himself to the floor, and avoiding a heavy kick, grasped Uncle John by the leg, pulling him down. The others piled on top of him.
Two minutes later Uncle John had ceased to struggle, and lay powerless in the hands of his captors.
"Well, you've got me," he said. "Now what?"
Still keeping a tight grip upon him, the men assisted Uncle John to his feet. One drew a revolver and covered him. The other two went to the assistance of Robard, who was just getting to his feet. The latter came forward with an angry gleam in his eye.
"So I've got you at last," he said. "Well, I'll see that you don't get away this time."
"You weren't big enough to get me alone," said Uncle John, panting from his exertions.
"I wasn't, eh!" shouted Robard, now furiously angry. "I've got you now, and you shall pay. Take that!"
He dealt Uncle John a heavy blow with the back of his hand.
In his early days Uncle John had been noted for his fiery temper. It was said of him that when his temper was aroused, he became a maniac. So it was now.
Taking no thought of the man who held the revolver almost in his face, Uncle John, his cheek red from the imprint of the Austrian's hand, uttered a cry of rage, and leaped forward. His move was so unexpected that the man with the revolver did not fire, and when at last he had again brought his revolver to bear, he feared to press the trigger lest he might hit his friend as well as foe.
Uncle John, in a moment, was the center of a struggling, shouting mass. His fists flew about like flails and he kicked out with his feet whenever occasion presented itself. One, two, three heavy blows he landed upon Robard's face, and the Austrian suddenly collapsed in a heap. Still fighting mad, Uncle John whirled upon the other three, who now closed with him.
A right-handed jolt caught one of them flush on the jaw and he toppled over backwards without so much as a groan. The other brought a fist heavily to Uncle John's nose, bringing blood, but before he could repeat the blow, Uncle John had placed him hors de combat with a terrific left-handed punch to the abdomen.
Then the third man drew back and presented his revolver, but Uncle John sprang forward with a cry and before the man's finger could press the trigger, Uncle John had seized him about the middle. Raising him high in the air, he swung him to one side, and the man's head struck the wall with a crunch even as the revolver exploded.
Uncle John dropped the limp body and surveyed the field. His anger had departed and he was again a cool and self-possessed American gentleman of middle age.
"There's that temper of mine again," he said reprovingly to himself. "Why, I might have killed somebody. After all these years I should have it under control. I guess I'll be moving before some one makes me real mad."
He stooped and picked up his hat, which had fallen on the floor, took one last look at his fallen foes, and opened the door and passed out.
Down the street he saw a solitary figure sitting upon the steps in front of a large stone house, and he walked in the other direction.
"I've had trouble enough for one night," he told himself. "Guess I will give that fellow a wide berth."
And had he gone toward the seated figure he would have avoided more trouble for all concerned, and Hal and Chester would probably never have seen active service with the Italian army. For the figure that caused Uncle John to turn his footsteps in the opposite direction was Chester, awaiting the return of Hal.
"Wonder why those young scalawags didn't come back to help me?" mused Uncle John, as he walked along toward the hotel. "I'll tell them what I think of them for running away and leaving me to do all the fighting."
Uncle John glanced at his watch.
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "Twelve o'clock! Why, it doesn't seem fifteen minutes since we went in that house. Guess Hal and Chester have returned to the hotel by this time. What shall I tell the women folks? They'll wonder what a man of my age is prowling about the streets of Rome for at this hour of the night."
He entered his hotel and made his way toward the elevator. It descended, and as he would have entered, he bumped squarely into Mrs. Paine and Mrs. Crawford.
"John," cried the latter, "where is Chester?"
"Where is Hal?" demanded Mrs. Paine anxiously.
"Why, they—aren't they—they'll be here in a few minutes," stuttered
Uncle John.
"Where are they?" demanded the two anxious mothers in a single voice.
"Now hold on here," said Uncle John, regaining his composure with an effort. "I'll explain. Hal and Chester are all right. They'll be here in a few minutes."
"And what on earth is the matter with you, John?" asked Mrs. Crawford in surprise.
"What's the matter with me?"
"Yes. Your collar is half off, your clothes are dirty and there is blood on your shoe. What is the matter?"
"Well, nothing much," replied Uncle John in great confusion, "you see, I had—I had a—"
"And were Hal and Chester with you?" asked Mrs. Paine.
"Yes, that is no. I mean—" stuttered Uncle John.
"Come now, John, no fibbing," said Mrs. Crawford. "You were in trouble, and Hal and Chester were with you. Where are they now?"
"Well, to tell the truth, I don't know where they are," said Uncle John.
"I supposed they would be here by this time."
In a few words he explained what had transpired.
"They left the house without being hurt?" asked Mrs. Paine.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then where can they be now?" demanded Mrs. Crawford.
"I'm sure I don't know, unless they have stopped for a talk with the general, and that's about the size of it."
"I guess you are right," replied Mrs. Paine with relief. "But why didn't you tell us all this before you went out to-night?"
"Yes, why didn't you?" demanded Mrs. Crawford.
"Well," said Uncle John slowly, "we didn't want to worry you."
"You are getting too old for such foolishness," declared Mrs. Crawford.
"I thought so myself," replied Uncle John, "but I know better now. If you had seen the licking I handed those four Austrians you would think I was a boy again."
"I'll think you have reached your second childhood if you ever let me hear of anything like it again," declared his sister.
Uncle John was growing tired of this conversation. He wanted to be let alone.
"I'll go out and see if I can find the boys," he said.
"Please do," said Mrs. Paine.
"And see that you keep out of mischief yourself," adjured Mrs. Crawford.
Uncle John shook his head as he walked away.
"These women are funny things," he said. "I wonder what can have happened to those boys? They've probably gone back to look for me. Guess I had better head that way myself. I may come in handy, you never can tell."
He patted the revolver, which still rested securely in his pocket.
"I may have use for this next time," he muttered, as he quickened his steps toward the Austrian legation.