CHAPTER XXVII
A RAID AND A SURPRISE
Mr. Cook's automobile was still standing outside, and a few moments later the little party of four were seated in it and on their way to the police station. Bob was at the wheel.
Upon their arrival it was the work of only a few moments to have Mr. Cook and the two boys sworn in as deputy sheriffs. Bob and Hugh retired to the wash room and after more or less trouble succeeded in removing the false crop of hair from their faces.
Sergeant Riley ordered two policemen in uniform to go with them, and when Mr. Cook, Bob and Hugh had been equipped with pistols and heavy night sticks, the band, now increased to six, were ready to proceed. They used the Cooks' car again and presently were gliding silently along in the direction of Elm Street.
Two blocks distant from number twelve eighty-two Bob stopped the car and every one got out. A short consultation was held and it was decided to separate. Consequently Mr. Cook, Hugh, and one of the policemen went down a side street in order to go around the block and approach the house from the opposite direction. Bob, Sergeant Riley, and the other policeman were to wait a few moments and then move on up Elm Street. It was thought best to have Bob with one party and Hugh with the other as both boys knew the house and could lead the way with no possibility of mistake.
It was exciting work and Bob and Hugh both felt very important and elated at being allowed to accompany the officers on this raid. Furthermore they were going to see the inside of the mysterious stucco house, and perhaps clear up the whole mystery of the German plot and spy system in High Ridge.
After a few moments' wait Bob, Sergeant Riley, and the policeman started to move slowly up the street. They met no one on the way, for it was now after midnight and people were mostly in bed. Only one house had a light burning as far as they could see; that house was a white stucco one, number twelve eighty-two and the light was on the third floor.
"Here come the others," whispered Bob to Sergeant Riley as they drew near their destination.
Orders had already been given and every one knew what he was to do. One of the policemen went around to the rear of the house and took his position by the back door. Mr. Cook was to guard the front entrance, and both men had instructions to do everything necessary to prevent the escape of any of the inmates of the house.
The remaining four members of the party, led by Sergeant Riley, stole noiselessly up the steps and approached the front door. Riley took a bunch of keys from his pocket, inspected the lock, and then selected one of his keys. At the first trial the lock responded; he grasped the door knob and silently and, with extreme caution, pushed open the door.
The hallway was unlighted. Sergeant Riley took out his flashlight and pressed the button on it for a second as he inspected the hall. He uttered a low grunt of satisfaction as he noted that there was a carpet on the floor, and also on the stairs leading to the second floor. That meant their footsteps would not be heard. He beckoned to the others to follow, and softly stepped inside.
Scarcely daring to breathe, the four raiders advanced. They made no noise on the thick carpet, but a collision with a piece of furniture or a false step might have ruined all their chances for success. Sergeant Riley was in the lead, quick flashes from his pocket torch showing the way.
After what seemed hours they reached the second floor. Thus far nothing had occurred to make them think that they had been discovered, but the hardest part was yet to come. From the third floor came the sound of voices and a shaft of light from an open door pierced the darkness of the hallway. The men above were talking in German.
There was a brief halt and then Sergeant Riley stole forward again. With breath in check and walking on tip-toe his three companions followed. The open door above was about five or six feet distant from the head of the stairs. They started up the last flight; the voices of the men above seemed raised in anger, and though Bob of course could not understand what was said, he thought that the tone of one of them sounded strangely familiar.
Suddenly the stairs under Sergeant Riley's foot creaked. The little band stopped short, their hearts pounding; every one gripped his revolver a bit tighter and waited for developments. Apparently the noise had not been heard, however, for the voices continued as before.
The advance was resumed and finally Sergeant Riley reached the top of the stairs. He went a little farther and took his stand just beside the opened door and barely out of the light. As the others came up they stationed themselves directly behind the sergeant and close against the wall.
It was a tense moment. Bob and Hugh could feel their hearts hammering so that it seemed to the two boys the noise must be heard. Their faces were pale, and frankly they were frightened. Suppose the men in the room should outnumber them and overpower them? Certainly if they were the spies and plotters they sought, they would be desperate. Then again it was just possible that the men were peaceful citizens, and that the affair would turn out to be a farce; that would be almost too humiliating.
Suddenly Sergeant Riley stepped forward into the open doorway.
"Hands up!" he ordered sharply, covering the inmates of the room with his pistol. His three companions crowded into the doorway alongside him.
There were three men seated about a table in the room, and they were completely taken by surprise. They started to their feet with muttered exclamations of anger and astonishment, staring with wide eyes at the four pistols levelled at them from the doorway.
One man hesitated and made a move as if to reach around towards his hip pocket, but Sergeant Riley was alert.
"None of that," he cried. "Put up your hands."
The man hastened to obey and together the three stood and faced their captors. Sullen and angry they looked, and not one of them spoke.
"Now, Marshal," said Sergeant Riley, speaking to the policeman next to him. "I wish you would be so good as to relieve these gentlemen of any hardware they may have concealed about them."
While Riley and Bob and Hugh covered the three prisoners, the officer went rapidly from one to another and took a revolver from each one of them. He also examined their other pockets, but finding no additional weapons returned to his post by the door.
While this little drama was being enacted Bob had a chance to look about the room. It was scantily furnished, a table, four chairs, and a shelf along the wall constituting its equipment. On the shelf were a dozen or more bottles that looked as if they might contain chemicals; a square black box stood on the table and also a brass spring and what resembled a cord hanging from one side. Bob decided it was a bomb. From a nail in the center of the ceiling a small alligator was suspended by its tail. Bob recognized the missing Percy, and decided that this must be the headquarters of the gang that had used an alligator as its symbol, and traced a picture of it on all the notes and warnings they sent out.
While the furnishings of the room were interesting, the three men captured were far more so, and as Bob saw one of them he experienced a distinct shock. The first was a man with dark hair, weighing perhaps one hundred and fifty pounds, and having a close-cropped mustache; the fake detective beyond a doubt. The second was a thin, wiry individual with a beard, and a swollen, red nose. He was the man who had escaped from his and Hugh's hands at the factory, Bob decided. His nose was swollen where Hugh had hit him. This must be the man who had set off the bomb.
The third prisoner was the one who furnished the surprise to Bob, however. He was a man Bob had known for years, and liked, admired, and trusted as well. He was Karl Hoffmann.
"Well," exclaimed Sergeant Riley, "it looks as if you men was through with your work. Get out your handcuffs, Marshal."
Up till now not one of the prisoners had spoken. When they saw the manacles being brought out, however, they shifted uneasily and Karl spoke.
"Bob," he said. "This is all a mistake."
Bob would have liked to believe him but before he had an opportunity to say anything Sergeant Riley spoke up. "Perhaps it is a mistake," he exclaimed. "We can talk that over down at the police station better than here, however."
There was now little left to do. The handcuffs were quickly attached to the prisoners' wrists and Hugh was sent to the second floor to telephone for the patrol wagon. The prisoners were marched downstairs, and Mr. Cook and the other policeman were summoned. Mr. Cook was as shocked as Bob had been to see Karl Hoffmann among those who had been captured in the raid.
There was nothing for it, however, but to see him loaded into the patrol wagon and driven away to police headquarters.