CHAPTER XXII—“THERE’S MANY A SLIP.”
In the livery stable on Emmons Street, the same one in which Ralph had been confined, sat four men. They were grouped about a table in a small room in the rear of the place, for the stable was what is sometimes known as “a blind,” and the place was the resort of all sorts of unprincipled characters who had reason to fear the forces of law and order.
On the table was a litter of papers, typewritten specifications and blue prints, but the most conspicuous object was a beautiful model of Mr. Peregrine’s vanishing motor gun. One of the men was Stephen Melville, and the identity of the others may be easily guessed. They were Sawdon, Jake Rook and Radcliff.
“Well, boss, have we earned our pay?” asked Jake Rook, as Melville paused in his interested scrutiny of the model and the plans.
“You bet you have,” he exclaimed enthusiastically, “and as soon as we have a contract with the government I’ll give you a bonus as well. Why, with these plans and this model it will be easy to manufacture a machine unlike the Peregrine one in appearance but exactly like it in principle. What a fool he was not to sell when he had the chance! Now we have all the benefits of his work for nothing.”
“But say, boss,” interrupted Jake Rook, “how are you going to get the stuff to New York? There’s a hunt on for us in the city, and I guess that by this time you are being looked for, too.” For Jake had discovered that his letter had not been delivered, and readily guessed that it might have fallen into Ralph’s hands, and from him passed to the possession of the two lads they had tried so hard to injure.
“I’ve arranged for all that,” said Melville; “the police may guard all the railway stations; but we won’t go by train. I know a man here who has a fast motor boat and isn’t too particular, where there is money concerned. He’ll take us down the coast a way, and then put us ashore. We’ll separate and reach New York by different routes.”
“That’s a rattling good plan,” said Sawdon approvingly; “I guess that this time we’ve got those kids buffaloed for fair. Does this fellow with the boat know that you are going to hire it?”
“Yes, I thought it best to be prepared for emergencies, and so I have arranged for the boat to meet us at the Buttermilk wharf. That’s some distance from the regular shipping piers, and we won’t attract attention.”
“And Dan Darby has the disguises,” added Jake Rook. “Oh, Dan!” he cried, raising his voice. In response a bottle-nosed, red-faced man of the low, rough type shuffled in.
“Well, what is it?” he demanded.
“Have you got those disguises?”
“Sure, they’re upstairs in the loft. Want to put ’em on now?”
“We do,” said Melville; “there’s no knowing how soon some of that outfit may cross our trail, and we don’t want to be caught napping.”
“All right, go right ahead up. Jake knows the way,” said Dan, who, although he posed as a livery-stable keeper, was a notorious rascal of Boston’s underworld.
Half an hour after the four worthies had taken their way upstairs, they reappeared again. But how altered! Jake Rook, who was an adept at this sort of thing, had excelled himself at his work.
Melville’s moustache had been shaven off, and he was rigged out like a bloated, broken-down old cab-driver; Sawdon had the semblance of a hanger-on about a livery stable; Jake Rook appeared to be a peddler; and Radcliff was apparently a seedy, down-at-heels foreigner of the emigrant type, with an untidy black beard.
“Great!” exclaimed Dan, as he viewed them; “your own mothers wouldn’t know you, and that’s the truth.”
At this moment there came a loud knocking at the door of the stable, which was closed and locked. Dan darted to a peephole in the front of the place, constructed for the purposes of spying.
“Great Scott, boys!” he exclaimed the next minute, in a low, tense whisper, “it’s them kids you were talking about, with half a dozen policemen. They’re in plain clothes, but I’d know a bull anywhere.”
Instant consternation prevailed among the conspirators. But Jake Rook, who alone remained cool, spoke up quickly.
“Is the old getaway still working, Dan?” he asked quickly.
“Yes. You know where it is. It leads out on Murphy’s Alley.”
“Good! Follow me, and we’ll fool that bunch yet,” exclaimed Jake, darting to the rear of the stable, while Dan called out in a surprised voice: “Who’s there?”
“It’s the police. Open this door instantly, do you hear?” came a sharp voice on the outside.
“All right! all right!” and Dan shuffled toward the door; “What’s up? What do you want?” he demanded, as he opened it slowly.
“To search this stable of yours. Some suspected criminals have been traced here,” spoke up the leader of the police, a heavy-set man with a crisp moustache.
“Here?” exclaimed Dan, in well-simulated amazement; “criminals in my stable? You must be mistaken.”
“Oh no, we’re not, and this place is too well known for us to be fooled by you. Stand aside.” The man gave Dan a rough shove that sent him spinning to one side and entered the place, followed by the boys and his comrades of the force. But, as we know, the birds had flown. Not a trace of them could be found. The “getaway,” as Jake Rook called it, a secret door in the back of the place leading out on an alley, was too cunningly constructed even to catch their attention.
“There, what did I tell you?” grinned old Dan, when they had finished and found that they had “drawn a blank,” as huntsmen say. “It’s too bad to do anything like this. Why, if it got out, it would give me a bad reputation.”
“You precious old rascal,” exclaimed the detective, “as if you weren’t one of the worst characters in Boston, but too foxy to get into the toils of the law!”
“Oh, my! Oh, my! How you talk!” exclaimed old Dan, looking as if he was really grievously insulted by the imputation that he was not an honest and upright citizen.
“Well, there’s no doubt in my mind that the men were here,” said the officer, turning to the boys; “but they’ve gone, and covered up their tracks mighty well, too.”
“More bad luck,” growled out Tom, gritting his teeth; “and just when we thought we had them, too. I don’t suppose we’ll ever see them again now.”
“It’s not likely,” admitted the policeman; “from what you have said they must be a band of slick fellows, all right.”
“But suppose this man Melville starts to manufacture that vanishing gun thing, can’t he be prosecuted?” asked Dick Dangler.
“Mr. Bowler says that such a slick man as he is would make just enough alterations in the model so that it wouldn’t be possible to prove that it was not his own idea. Such cases are very hard to prove, he says, and cost thousands of dollars. No; if the model is in Melville’s hands, there’s an end of it.”
This speech was the contribution of Jack, who had talked with the lawyer on this very subject. There being nothing more to be done at the stable, they came away, followed by a sarcastic grin from old Dan.
“You won’t never catch an old bird like me by putting salt on his tail,” he chuckled. “I wonder if them fellows took that model they set so much store by? Looked like so much junk to me, but I guess it must be valuable to them all right.” He peeped into the room where the consultation had been held and found that the model and papers had been taken. Jake Rook, in fact, in his dash for the alley had taken the model and stowed it under his coat, while Melville had grabbed up the papers.
The boys were sitting in the hotel that afternoon pondering fresh plans, when there came a sudden summons to the telephone.
“This is Captain Andrews,” came a voice at the other end when Jack answered it. “By the great horn spoon, but I’ve a valuable bit of information for you lads. It concerns those lubbers who stole the patent.”
“Gracious!” cried Jack, “is that so? Where can we see you?”
“You wait there and I’ll be up,” was the reply; “if my information is right those rascals are about to slip through your fingers again.”
“By ginger! not this time, if it’s humanly possible to catch them,” declared Jack earnestly, as he hung up the receiver. “We’ll follow them no matter where the chase may take us.”
And where it was to take them neither of the boys dreamed at that moment, but they were on the eve of one of the most adventurous incidents of their lives.