AT THE FORT
"Bessie King!" he exclaimed amazed. "What on earth are you doing here? And where is Trenwith?"
"I don't know," said Bessie. She felt safe and for a moment she was on the verge of collapsing completely. But then she remembered that not her own fate alone, but that of the others whom she loved and who had been so good to her depended upon her. And, in a few quick words, she told the story of the accident to the Columbia, with the treachery of Billy Trenwith, and the subsequent appearance of Holmes and his men.
"There you are, gentlemen!" said Jamieson, turning to the little group of men in uniform, who, tremendously interested, had listened intently to all that Bessie had said. "You laughed at me—you insisted that the sort of thing I told you about wasn't possible—that it simply couldn't happen in this country, and in this time. What do you think now?"
"I guess it's one on us," said one of the officers, with a reluctant laugh. "But, really, Jamieson, you can't blame us much, can you? It's pretty incredible, even now."
"I'm bothered about Trenwith, though," said Charlie. "Something has gone wrong."
"Miss Mercer is perfectly sure that he is in league with Mr. Holmes," said Bessie. "Do you think that's so, Mr. Jamieson?"
"I hope not," said Charlie, soberly. "I've found out one thing lately though, Bessie;—that when there is money involved, you can never tell what is going to happen."
"Did you know we were here—how did you find out?"
"No questions just now! It's time something was being done. Tell me, can you take me to this house, and show me how to get in?"
"Yes, I think I can find my way back through the woods."
"No need of that," said one of the officers. "There's a road that leads right to that place. What's Holmes doing there, anyhow? It isn't his place. It belongs to some people who bought it a little while ago."
"Yes, a Mr. and Mrs. Richards," said Charlie. "But from what Bessie here says, he seems to be doing about as he likes with it. Well, I don't want to waste any more time. Do you suppose I can see Colonel Hart?"
"You can unless your eyesight is failing," said the Colonel, appearing in the doorway. He had heard the question, and came forward smiling, his hand outstretched. "How are you, Jamieson? What can I do for you?"
"A great deal, if you will, Colonel," said Charlie. "I'd like to speak to you privately for a minute, if I may—"
"Shabby business—that's what I call it," said one of the young officers. "He knows we're wild to know what's going on, and there he goes off with the old man to tell him about it where we can't hear."
Then one of them happened to think that Bessie might be in need of refreshment after her exciting experiences, and they waited on her as if she had been a princess. By the time she had been able to convince them that she wanted nothing more, Jamieson and the Colonel returned.
"All right, my boy," the colonel was saying. "I'll attend to it, and do as you wish. Maybe it isn't strictly according to the regulations, but I don't believe anyone will ever file charges against me. Depend upon me. You're starting now?"
"Yes," said Jamieson. "Come along, Bessie. We're going back to the house."
"I'm ready," said Bessie, simply.
"You're not afraid?"
"Not as long as you're there. I don't believe Mr. Holmes can do anything while you're around."
"Well, I hope he can't, Bessie. But when they had managed to get away as you did to-night, a whole lot of girls wouldn't be in a hurry to run into the same danger again."
"I wouldn't be very happy about getting away myself unless Zara escaped, too, Mr. Jamieson. And I'm afraid of Mr. Holmes—I don't know what he might do if he were angry enough. I wouldn't be sure that Dolly and Miss Eleanor were safe with him."
"Well, they are, Bessie. Of course, what I'm planning may go wrong, but I feel pretty confident that we are going to give Mr. Holmes the surprise of his life this night."
They walked on steadily through the darkness, the going of course, being much easier than Bessie had found it in her flight, since she now had a good road under her feet instead of the stumpy wood path, full of twisted roots and unexpected bumps.
And at last a light showed through the trees to one side of the road, and Bessie stopped.
"That's the place, I'm pretty sure," she said. "I can tell for certain if we turn in, but I'm sure I didn't pass another house."
So they went in, and a minute's examination enabled Bessie to recognize the grounds. She had had plenty of time to study them earlier in the night, when she had crouched behind the rose bushes, expecting to be discovered and dragged out every time one of the searchers passed near her.
"I wish I knew about Trenwith," said Charlie, anxiously. "That is one part of this night's work that puzzles me. I don't understand it at all, and it worries me."
"He went off with Mr. Holmes after we got inside the house," said Bessie. "But I didn't see him again after that. He wasn't with Mr. Holmes in the big hall again, after I had got away. I'm sure of that."
"What are you going to do now?" asked Bessie.
"I'm not certain. I'd like very much to know where the other girls are. We ought to be all together."
"Perhaps I can find out," said Bessie. "You stay here, and I'll slip along toward the house. If Dolly's awake, I can find out where she is."
"All right. But if you see anyone else, or if anyone interferes with you, call me right away."
Bessie promised that she would, and then she slipped away, and a moment later found herself in front of the house.
"I'll try this side last," she said to herself. "I don't believe they'd put them in front—more likely they'd put them on the east side, because that only looks out over the garden, and there'd be less chance of their seeing anyone who was coming."
So, moving stealthily and as silently as a cat, she went around to that side of the house, and a moment later the strange, mournful call of a whip-poor-will sounded in the still night air. It was repeated two or three times, but there was no answer. Then Bessie changed her call slightly.
At first she had imitated the bird perfectly. But this time there was a false note in the call—just the slightest degree off the true pitch of the bird's note. Most people would not have known the difference, but to a trained ear that slight imperfection would be enough to reveal the fact that it was a human throat that was responsible, and not a bird's. And the trick served its turn, for there was an instant answer. A window was opened above Bessie, very gently, and she saw Dolly's head peering down over the ivy that grew up the wall.
"Wait there!" she whispered. "Get dressed, all three of you! Mr. Jamieson is here—not far away. I'm going to tell him where you are."
She marked the location of the window carefully, and then, sure that she would remember it when she returned, went back to Jamieson.
"Did you locate them? Good work!" he said. "All right. Go back now and tell them to make a rope of their sheets—good and strong. I saw where you were standing, and, if they lower that, I don't think we will have any trouble getting up to their window. I want to be inside that house—and I don't want Holmes to know I'm there until I'm ready." He chuckled. "He thinks I'm back in the city. I want him to have a real surprise when he finally does see me."
Bessie slipped back then and told Dolly what to do, and in a few minutes the rope of sheets came down, rustling against the ivy. Bessie made the signal she had agreed on with Jamieson at once—a repetition of the bird's call, and he joined her. Then he picked her up and started her climbing up the wall, with the aid of the rope and the ivy.
For a girl as used to climbing trees as Bessie, it was a task of no great difficulty, and in a minute she was safely inside the room, and had turned to watch Jamieson following her. His greater weight made his task more difficult, and twice those above had all they could do to repress screams of terror, for the ivy gave way, and he seemed certain to fall.
But he was a trained athlete, and a skillful climber as well, and, difficult as the ascent proved to be for him, he managed it, and clambered over the sill of the window and into the room, breathless but smiling and triumphant.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Charlie!" said Eleanor. "There is someone we can trust, after all, isn't there?"
"Oh, sure!" he said. "Don't you take on, Nell, and don't ask a lot of questions now. It'll be daylight pretty soon—and, believe me, when the light comes, there's going to be considerable excitement around these parts."
"But why did you bring Bessie back here? How did she find you?"
He raised his hand with a warning gesture, and smiled.
"Remember, Nell, no questions!" he said. "All we can do just now is to wait."
Wait they did—and in silence, save for an occasional whisper.
"That man Holmes has a woman guarding us," whispered Eleanor. "She is just outside the door in the hall—sleeping there. The idea is to keep us from leaving these rooms. Evidently they never thought of our going by the window. We did think of it, but we couldn't see any use in it, because we felt we wouldn't know where to go on this island, even if we got outside the grounds."
"That's what he counted on, I guess," answered Charlie. "I'm glad you stayed. Cheer up, Nell! You're going to have a package of assorted surprises before you're very much older!"
To the five of them, practically imprisoned, it seemed as if daylight would never come. But at last a faint brightness showed through the window, and gradually the objects in the room became more distinct. And, with the coming of the light, there came also sounds of life in the house. The voices of men sounded from the garden, and Charlie smiled.
"They'll begin wondering about that rope and the footprints under this window pretty soon," he said. "And I guess none of them will be exactly anxious to tell Holmes, either."
He was right, for in a few moments excited voices echoed from below, and then there was an argument.
"Well, he's got to be told," said one man. "It's your job, Bill."
"Suppose you do it yourself."
Apparently, they finally agreed to go together. And five minutes later there was a commotion outside the door.
"Here's where I take cover!" whispered Charlie, with a grin. And, just before the door was opened, and Holmes burst in, his face livid with anger, the lawyer hid himself behind a closet door.
Holmes stared at the sight of the four girls standing there, fully dressed, his jaw dropping.
"So you're all here?" he said, an expression of relief gradually succeeding his consternation. "Found you couldn't get away, eh, Bessie? Why didn't you come to the front door instead of climbing in that way? We'd have let you in all right." He laughed, harshly.
"Well, I've had about all the trouble you're going to give me," he said. "Silas Weeks will be here to take care of you pretty soon, my girl, and now that he's got you in the state where you belong, I guess you won't get away again very soon."
"What state do you think this island is in?" asked Charlie Jamieson, appearing suddenly from his hiding-place.
Holmes staggered back. For a moment he seemed speechless. Then he found his tongue.
"What are you doing here? How did you get into my house?" he snarled. "I'll have you arrested as a burglar."
"Ah, no, you won't," said Charlie, pleasantly. "But I'm going to have you arrested—for kidnapping. Answer my question—do you think this is in the state where the courts have put Bessie in charge of Silas Weeks?"
"Certainly it is," said Holmes, blustering.
"You ought to keep up with the news better, Mr. Holmes. The United States Government has bought this island for military purposes. It's a Federal reservation now, and the writ of the state courts has no value whatever. Even the land this house stands on belongs to the government now—it was taken by condemnation proceedings."
Eleanor gave a glad cry at the good news. At last she understood the trap into which Holmes had fallen.
"Look outside—look through the window!" said Jamieson.
Holmes rushed to the window, and his teeth showed in a snarl at what he saw.
"You can't get away, you see," said Jamieson. "There isn't any sentiment about those soldiers. They'd shoot you if you tried to run through them. I'd advise you to take things easily. There'll be a United States marshall to take you in charge pretty soon. He's on his way from Rock Haven now. He'll probably come on the same boat that brings Silas Weeks—and some other people you are not expecting."
Holmes slumped into a chair. Defeat was written in his features. But he pulled himself together presently.
"You've got the upper hand right now," he said. "But what good does it do you? I'm the only one who knows the truth, and the reason for all this. They won't do anything to me—they can't prove any kidnapping charge. The boat was disabled—I entertained these girls over night when they were stranded here."
"We'll see about that," said Jamieson, quietly. "And I may know more than you think. I've been finding out a few things since the talk I had with Jake Hoover in Bay City yesterday. Did you know that he was arrested the day before yesterday at Plum Beach?"
Evidently Holmes had not known it. The news was a fresh shock to him. But he was determined not to admit defeat.
"Much good he'll do you!" he said. "He doesn't know anything—even if he thinks he does."