CHAPTER XVII.
CONCLUSION.
The waters of a lagoon washed the swampy shore directly in front of theplace where the two detectives were crouching.
A flat-bottomed boat was tied to a log, and Sim Johnson was just in theact of casting it loose, when the detectives saw him.
Roland Mason sat in the stern, a big felt hat on his head, the wig andfalse mustache adjusted, and he was laughing heartily, and saying:
"Sim, we'll fool those detectives yet."
"Ise mighty glad we know wha' dey's gwine ter do," the coon answered.
"We wouldn't have known their plans if I hadn't gone over to the houseto-day and listened outside the open window, to all they were saying toOliver Dalton," replied the rascal.
Harry gave his partner a nudge.
Just then Sim exclaimed:
"De boat am free, sah."
"Jump in, then, and we'll row across the swamp."
"Yo' gwine ter hire dem horses to-night?"
"Of course. We must ride away from here on horseback, and get back intothe interior, as the railroad stations here are being watched for us.Once we are a day's travel from this accursed place, we can board thecars of some other road, and get down to New Orleans, where we'll besafe."
Sim chuckled audibly, for the plan pleased him immensely.
He was just about to jump into the boat, when Harry cried:
"Now!"
The Bradys rushed from their covert.
The two desperadoes were completely surprised by the sudden appearanceof the two noted detectives.
"The jig is up, boys," said Old King Brady, as he covered his man.
Sim raised both hands above his head.
"Don't fire! I gibs in!" he roared, in terrified tones.
At the same moment Harry aimed his pistol at Mason and cried:
"You surrender, or I'll kill you, Mason!"
"Drop that gun, Brady!"
"Not till you give in," replied Harry.
"Then----"
Bang! went Mason's pistol.
He did not raise it to aim, but took the young detective unawares, andthe ball grazed Harry's skull, and stunned him.
Dropping his pistol, he flung up his hands, reeled back, and fell overthe side of the boat upon the mud, unconscious.
At the same moment Sim, electrified, sprang convulsively at Old KingBrady and knocked the pistol aside.
It was discharged in the air.
The coon seized the detective's wrists, and in a moment a terrificstruggle ensued between the pair.
Old King Brady thought his partner was killed.
It made him frantic with rage.
"You treacherous dogs! We might have expected such crooked work asthis!" he cried. "But you won't escape me, I can tell you!"
"Help, Mason, help!" yelled the coon.
But Mason had discreetly seized the oars, and was then rowing away withall his strength, in a violent effort to escape.
The negro fought with the courage of despair.
But he was no match for Old King Brady.
The great detective gave his wrist a sudden twist that tore it out ofthe darky's grip, and caught hold of Sim by the throat.
His fingers closed like a vise on the darky's windpipe.
"Down on your knees with you!"
"Oh, golly! Yassah--I go down!"
And down he went.
Out came the old detective's handcuffs, and the next instant they weresnapped upon Sim's wrists behind his back.
"Now, don't you budge an inch till I tell you to!" panted the oldman-hunter threateningly, as he aimed his pistol at Johnson.
"Ise a dead niggah!" groaned the rascal, dismally.
"That's what you'll be if you stir!" grimly said Old King Brady.
He strode over to Harry and picked him up.
First he was overjoyed to find that the boy was alive, then hecarefully examined the wound on his scalp and saw it was only skindeep.
He court-plastered it, to stop the bleeding.
With a hatful of water he bathed the young detective's temples, andwhile so employed gazed around in quest of Mason.
The man was far away in the boat by that time.
Harry rapidly recovered, and finally got upon his feet again.
His head was very sore, but otherwise he suffered no ill effects fromthe wound he received, and cried eagerly:
"Can't we head off that villain?"
"I'm going to make an effort. Grab the prisoner."
While Harry took possession of the scared darky, Old King Brady ranaround the swamp at the top of his speed toward the spot Mason washeading the boat for, and kept out of the rascal's view.
In this manner Old King Brady reached the grounds surrounding OliverDalton's house, and suddenly caught view of Mason.
He had landed, and was kneeling down beside a rock, under which was ahollow space from which he was drawing a package.
Hearing the old detective coming, he bounded to his feet, and raisedhis revolver to fire. But he was not quick enough.
A sharp report came from the detective's pistol.
The bullet lodged in Mason's leg.
With a yell of pain he fell.
In a moment more the officer pounced on him.
"I've got you at last, Mason!"
"Curse you--shoot! Kill me!" yelled the maddened man.
"No. I'll reserve your life for a prison cell, so you may repent ofyour sins at your leisure, and ultimately become a reformed man!"
He held the rascal down by main force.
The shot brought Mr. Dalton and his daughter from the house, and asthey rushed over to the spot, the broker cried joyfully:
"So you've got him, eh?"
"Yes; got both," replied the detective.
"Thank Heaven for that!"
"Mason, what's in that package?"
"Money. About $30,000," growled the man in surly tones.
"Is that the money you stole from Mr. Dalton's office?"
"Yes. I may as well own up to it now."
"Mr. Dalton, take your property."
"I shall," replied the broker, seizing the parcel.
Just then Harry came along with Johnson in tow, and the two prisonerswere handcuffed together, and were taken to Swamp Angel and locked up.
As Mr. Dalton was anxious to get back to New York, the detectives gottheir three prisoners and accompanied the broker and his daughter northa few days later, and they finally reached the metropolis.
Of course everybody was surprised to see the broker appear alive andwell, after believing so long he was dead and buried.
In due time Roland Mason and his two negro pals were put on trial fortheir many offenses, and the testimony of the Bradys convicted them.
Their sentences were the extreme limit, and they went to Sing Sing.
Mr. Dalton soon had his business re-established, and found that afterall his losses by Mason's peculations were not very heavy since thetime he was supposed to have been found dead.
It is safe to say the forged will was destroyed.
From that time onward the Bradys had the warmest friends in LizzieDalton and her father. But they certainly earned their esteem.
They had gone beyond their depth several times while unravelling thegreat swamp mystery, but success crowned their efforts in the end.
Praised for the good work they did by their chief, and lauded to theskies by the press, they became more celebrated than ever.
But their work for the Secret Service was not ended with the happyfinish of the Dalton case. They were soon busy with a new piece ofdetective work that taxed all their ingenuity.
But we have reserved a history of their exploits while so engaged foranother story.
THE END.
Read "THE BRADYS' HOPELESS CASE; OR, AGAINST PLAIN EVIDENCE," whichwill be the next number (96) of "Secret Service."
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The Bradys Beyond Their Depth; Or, The Great Swamp Mystery Page 17
