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.