Treasure of Kings

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER IV--KIDNAPPED

  While I went over the sand-hills like a hare, I looked back once and sawAmos running, his face all screwed up in fury, and his black eyes as ifthey were on fire. At the door of the cabin stood Mr. Forsyth, shakinghis Malacca cane at me, but never troubling himself to move so much asan inch.

  I knew from the first that I had the legs of both of them, that Amoscould never catch me though I carried a pound weight on either foot. AndI believe, like a fool, I laughed, thinking myself secure; and when Ipulled through a hedgerow that cut off the sand-drift from the openfields, I found myself face to face with Joshua.

  For my own excuse, it may be urged that I had had much to think of inthe last few minutes; and if I had remembered my friendship withBannister, I had at least forgotten the very existence of Joshua Trust.But there he was, as plain as a pike-staff, about thirty yards to thefront of me.

  I pulled up and stared at him; and to my surprise he made no movement,until I heard the voice of Amos from behind me.

  "Catch the young fiend! Shoot, Joshua, before he gets away!"

  And at that I jumped to the right, straight into a rabbit-hole, andpitched on to my head.

  I lay where I was for a few seconds without moving, for I was a trifleshaken by the fall. I could still hear Amos, cursing and swearinghorribly, and Joshua, beating along the hedge with his stick. For allthat, neither could I see them nor could they see me; for I was flatupon my face in a bunch of thistles, which was near as great a tormentas a swarm of bees.

  I knew from the first that sooner or later I would have to run for it;and the only thing that held me back from bolting then and there was thecertain knowledge that Joshua Trust would shoot. I write with naturalreluctance whatsoever stands something to the credit of myself; but,even at the moment, I thought more of the parchment than of my own skin.For I still held the crumpled fragment of the map in my right hand,gripping it tightly as if it were a running-cork.

  I heard Joshua's voice quite near to me; and knowing that he must findme if I remained where I was, I resolved to take my chance. But first,in case of possible misfortune, I stuffed my portion of the parchmentmap to the full length of an arm down the very rabbit-hole that hadtripped me up. And as I did so, a thought flashed through my mind: thatit was, indeed, a strange circumstance that half the secret of theGreater Treasure of the Incas of old Peru, who four hundred years agohad foiled the greedy Spaniards, should lie hidden in a rabbit-scrape inSussex.

  And then I sprang to my feet and trusted to Providence to help me.Joshua was in front of me and threw out his arms to catch me. But Idived beneath them, swerved away from him, and ran for my very life.

  I heard Amos shouting like a madman. Out of the corner of an eye, I sawJoshua Trust fumbling in the region of his belt for the pistol I knew hecarried.

  It was neck or nothing then. I had the sense not to run straight, butto dodge here and there like a snipe; and as like as not I owed my lifeto that. For I found out afterwards that Trust was a dead shot, whoseldom missed his mark.

  As I fled, the sharp crack of his pistol broke upon the silence, scaringthe sea birds from the beach. The bullet sang past my head and clippedthe lobe of an ear, so that the blood ran down my neck. And thus was I,Dick Treadgold, blooded, in both metaphor and fact, to a life of periland adventure.

  Whilst Joshua reloaded, I had a chance to double the distance betweenus. I headed inland, away from the shore, and made in the direction ofthe village which was more than a mile away. Straight in front of mewas a clump of trees, and I hoped to gain this before Trust could fireagain.

  Though the country that lies south of the Downs, from the west ofWorthing to the ancient city of Chichester, is, in the main, as flat asa table, this particular clump of trees was perched upon a roundedhillock--though you would call it that nowhere but in western Sussex;and therefore, when I gained the trees, I could survey the land on everyside of me to the extent of a good square mile.

  To the south were Joshua and Amos Baverstock, hastening after me, thelatter some way behind his longer-legged companion. To the north, alittle to the east, was the sharp belfry of the church in the village Iwould gain: and, to the west, was the lane that leads to Arundel.

  I had paused for a moment, not so much for breath as to get my bearings,to select the shortest route; and in this brief moment, I became awareof a circumstance that caused my heart to leap for joy. For, comingtoward me, by way of a footpath that led across the fields, carryingunder an arm a brown paper parcel that I knew to contain his weeklystock of provisions, I recognised the great, tall figure of JohnBannister himself.

  All thoughts of my pursuers were instantly banished from my mind. Whatcared I now for Amos Baverstock and all his threats and oaths! I wasconscious of nothing else but the bald fact that a friend in need wasclose at hand--and one, moreover, who would soon get the best of MasterBaverstock--and so great was my elation that I took no heed of adog-cart which, at that moment, came rattling round a bend in the road.

  I called loudly upon Bannister by name, though he was then scarcelywithin hearing, and dashed down the hill before Joshua could havereached the trees from the other side.

  The road in that place was bounded by a wooden fence, and balancingmyself upon the top of this, I shouted frantically to Bannister.

  "Come quick!" I cried. "Amos Baverstock is here!"

  I was answered, before the last word had left my lips, by a shot firedat the back of me. The bullet splintered the woodwork of the very barupon which I was standing; and, startled into action, I jumped into theroad.

  Immediately I had to turn back again no less quickly, to avoid being rundown by the dog-cart, the driver of which reined up with a jerk.

  I looked up at him at once, thinking to recognise some farmer that Iknew; but, instead of that, I set eyes, to my amazement, upon Mr.Gilbert Forsyth, with his side-whiskers and his greased moustache.

  I remembered then--too late as things turned out--that the road curvedseaward near the place where I had first discovered Amos and hisfriends. Had I thought of it at all, I must have known that they hadnever walked to that lonely spot. They had driven there, to leave thehorse and cart upon the road, whilst they settled themselves at a littledistance to discuss how best they might attack John Bannister, in hiscabin by the sea. Moreover, had I known then as much as I know now ofMr. Gilbert Forsyth, I should never have supposed for a single instantthat he could be as idle as he seemed, that he would have remained doingnothing before the opening of the cabin, whilst his friends werepursuing me.

  For Gilbert Forsyth, a fop to all appearances and a lazy dude, was inreality a man of action. He said not a word to me, but when he hadreined in his horse, he lifted his whip, and cut me down as if I were athistle.

  It was a long tandem whip--and tandems were much in fashion in the dayswhen all this happened. The lash wrapped itself about my legs like aliving snake; so that when Forsyth jerked the whip backwards with allhis force, I was thrown violently on my face upon the hard, dusty road.

  I tried to get to my feet as quick as I could, but had done no more thanstruggle to my knees, when Forsyth struck me upon the crown of my headwith the heavy handle of the whip.

  It was a cruel blow and a stout one; and I know that if I did notactually lose consciousness I, at least, saw the trees swing upward intothe sky, and the white road upon which I lay rush round and round, likethe spokes of a revolving wheel.

  And then the next thing I knew was that Forsyth had me by the throat.Though I was then young, I was not a weakling. I struggled desperately,and might, perhaps, have freed myself, had not Joshua Trust arrived uponthe scene in time to settle the affair the wrong way for me.

  For he gathered me up in his arms, and I was held as if I were encasedin iron. I shouted frantically, but that was of no more help than thecackling of a hen. I was lifted bodily into the cart.

  I heard Joshua shout to Amos: "Run like mad! Here's Bannister himself!"

  Forsyth h
ad climbed upon the box. Trust was on the back seat, with meheld like a squalling babe in his arms. The cart tilted forward a bit,as Amos scrambled up and took his seat beside the driver.

  I heard Forsyth crack his whip, and immediately the horse started off ata canter, the cart rocking like a boat in a heavy sea. I continued toshout, until Joshua swore at me and clapped one of his great handsacross my mouth. And the last thing I saw, as the cart turned into themain road to Littlehampton, was John Bannister breaking through theboundary fence, and then standing quite still and upright in the middleof the road, staring after us, with his brown paper parcel still underhis arm.