The Motor Pirate

by G. Sidney Paternoster

  CHAPTER XII

  HOW WE EXCHANGE SHOTS WITH THE PIRATE

  AFTER the sudden flurry which the reappearance of the Motor Piratecaused, and quite as much in the country at large as in my ownparticular circle, we settled down once again to a condition ofcomparative quietude. Of course there were plenty of facts to keep thepublic interest alive and to fill the papers. The adjourned inquest onthe victim found near Towcester supplied columns of copy, while therobbery of the Brighton Mail afforded unlimited scope for thedescriptive reporter as well as for the special crime investigator, whoat this time made his permanent appearance on the staff of nearly everypaper of any importance in the British Isles. My life at home was made aburden to me by these gentlemen. I bear them no malice for theirpersevering attempts to interview me, but they were an unmitigatednuisance, since I had no wish to air my experiences in the newspapers atthis stage of affairs. It was with the utmost difficulty I escaped theattention of the gentlemen of the Fourth Estate, for they even waited onmy doorstep for the chance of button-holing me when I went out in themorning; and pursued me so assiduously, that I dared not look a strangerin the face, lest my glance should be translated into a column ofglowing prose.

  I have said that the Pirate left no clue to his identity upon his latestappearance, and, indeed, at the time, such was the opinion both ofForrest and myself. But in the light of after events we learned thatthere was a clue, had we been keen-witted enough to have discovered it.In the course of our inquiries around Crawley, we certainly did notsucceed in finding any one who had observed the mysterious car whichevery one had learned to associate with the Pirate, but we had been toldcasually at Caterham--we had not returned by the direct road betweenLondon and Brighton--that we were not the only motorists abroad on thatnight, since another man had passed through the town early the samemorning. When we learned, however, that he had been driving a car of theconventional shape with a tonneau body, we paid no further attention tothe information, concluding that he was a sportsman, anxious likeourselves for a brush with the Pirate. Our blindness was to cost us dearbefore we had done.

  There was another supposition which I could not get out of my mind inconnection with the latest feat, and a couple of days afterwards Imentioned it to Forrest as we waited, according to our invariablecustom, at St. Albans for news of the Pirate's reappearance.

  "Don't you think it particularly strange," I remarked, "that in holdingup the Brighton Mail, our friend at once searched for the registeredparcels, and directly he laid his hands upon them at once made off?"

  "A perfectly natural thing for him to do," replied the detective. "Hewould guess that, if there were any valuables, they would almostcertainly have been registered, and he could scarcely hope to go overthe whole contents of the van."

  "Admitted," I replied. "Still, does it not strike you as curious that heshould have selected the night when a valuable parcel of diamonds wasthere?"

  "Well?" asked Forrest, his attention thoroughly arrested.

  "It almost seems as if he was possessed of the same information as wewere," I ventured.

  "According to your argument," he answered, "the pirate should be eitheryourself or myself, Colonel Maitland, Mr. Mannering, Mr. Winter, or hisfriend."

  "There remains Mannering and the diamond merchant," I said thoughtfully,"and I know the latter has never driven a motor-car in his life.Besides, he is scarcely likely to have robbed himself in such anextraordinary fashion." We had seen from the papers that he had, infact, been referring to his own firm when he had described to us theadvantages of the parcel post as a means of transmitting valuables. "Hemay have other friends beside Winter to whom he has mentioned thematter."

  "There's Mr. Mannering still to be accounted for," remarked Forrest."No harm can be done by inquiring if he was away from home that evening.What sort of establishment does he keep?"

  "Merely a couple of maids," I answered.

  "In that case there should be no trouble in ascertaining whether he wasout or not," he replied. "I'll see about it in the morning."

  He made the inquiry accordingly, but as he confessed to me afterwards,without expecting anything to come of it. His expectations seemed to bejustified in the result. The maids declared that Mannering had gone tohis sitting-room after dinner, and had been there with his slippers onwhen they retired for the night. They had locked up the house as usual,and the doors had been fast when they came down the next morning.

  This investigation, perfunctory as it was, decided us against any ideaof Mannering's complicity, and I fell back upon the theory that thediamond merchant must have communicated his methods to some one else. Wesought him out in the city, and he assured us that he had never beforereferred to the subject. He did not object to supplying us with thenames of his acquaintances who owned cars, and either Forrest or myselfmade inquiries concerning every one of them. All were to no purpose.When we had finished, we were no nearer discovering anything concerningthe Pirate than we were when we had begun.

  Then occurred an incident which should have opened our eyes, if anythingpossibly could have done so, to the personality of the Pirate. Butagain we were absolutely blind.

  It was the second week of May, and since, in spite of continued fineweather, our unknown terror remained in the seclusion of hishiding-place, wherever it might be, I had persuaded Forrest to come withme for a run one afternoon as far as Cambridge, proposing to returnafter sunset.

  The roads were beginning to be a little dusty, but altogether we had avery pleasant journey without any incident of note. We left theuniversity town about nine, reckoning upon getting home comfortablybefore midnight. There was a bright slice of moon shining, and we didthe dozen miles before reaching Royston at a decent pace. We went slowlyover the hilly road out of Royston and had passed over the worst of it,and I had just put on a higher speed, when I fancied I heard the distanthum which once heard could never be mistaken for anything else. Forrestheard it at the same time as myself.

  "Pull up at the side of the road," he cried. "The car must not bedamaged."

  I obeyed, running the bonnet into the hedge and leaving the back of thecar extended over the footpath. Meanwhile, Forrest had drawn hisrevolver from his pocket, and the moment I brought the car to astandstill I followed his example.

  "Don't stand on ceremony," advised my companion; "shoot on sight!"

  The words were scarcely out of his mouth when our enemy made hisappearance, coming from the direction of Buntingford. Whether he had anyintention of stopping and robbing us, I have no means of telling, but Ithink not, for he was travelling at his most rapid pace, and gave nosigns of slackening as he approached. Once more I was astonished at thewonderful steadiness of his machine. He passed us in a flash, the carrunning as evenly as if it were upon rails. In fact I paid so muchattention to this, that I was too late to fire with any prospect ofhitting him. Forrest was more alert. As the Pirate swooped by, thedetective's Colt spoke twice. So far as we could see, the shots took noeffect, for he did not move an inch.

  "No luck," muttered my companion, as the hum of the Pirate's car diedaway in the distance.

  I held up a warning finger. "Hush!" I said.

  My ears had told me truly--our enemy was once more approaching us. Ileaned over the back of the car, this time determined that I would atleast make an endeavour to stop his progress. The road was without abend for a stretch of at least two hundred yards, and the moment he cameinto the straight he was clearly visible to us in the light of the moon.I did not wait. The moment I saw him distinctly, I lifted my revolverand pulled the trigger as rapidly as I was able. Before I had emptiedthree chambers he was level. I was just in the act of firing a thirdtime, when a flash of fire spurted from the running car and my pistoldropped from my hand. Something had struck me violently on the arm. Ifelt no pain for the moment, only curiously numbed and cold. I wonderedwhy my companion should continue to fire at the rapidly disappearingform of the Pirate, who appeared to me to be swerving from side to sideof the road in the most ridicu
lous fashion. In another moment he was outof sight. I felt extremely sick, and, with something between a groan anda sigh, I sank back into my seat.

  "I fancy one of us must have got him," said Forrest, in an excited tone."Let us get on."

  "I hope you are right," I answered. "For he has certainly managed towing me."

  The shock had passed off, and, with the return of sensation, my arm feltas if a red-hot iron had been run through it, while there was a similarsort of feeling about my chest.

  "Really," said Forrest, as he looked closely into my face. He must haveseen that I was not joking, for he jumped out of the car and came backwith one of the lamps in his hand. "Where is it?" he asked, with someanxiety.

  "Merely the arm, I fancy," I replied.

  He took a knife from his pocket, and, without a moment's hesitation,ripped up the sleeve of the overcoat and under-coat which I was wearing.The shirtsleeve was already soaked with blood, and his face wascuriously anxious as he cut away the linen and felt the bone from wristto shoulder. Then his face cleared.

  "Only through the muscle," he remarked. "A fortnight will see the woundcompletely healed."

  Meanwhile he was tearing his handkerchief into strips, and, with thisimprovised bandage, he bound up the wound.

  "Sure that is all?" he asked, when he had tightened it to hissatisfaction.

  "I've got much the same sort of feeling here," I replied, tapping mychest gingerly.

  His face grew grave again, and before doing anything more he fished myflask out of my pocket, and insisted upon my taking a liberal draught ofthe contents. Not until then would he examine me.

  "Your bleeding powers would do credit to a bullock," he commented, as hecut away my shirt: "but beyond loss of blood, I don't think there's muchharm done."

  His first impression was correct. A cursory examination was quitesufficient to convince him that I was not much hurt.

  "Just a nasty furrow," he remarked. "Pretty painful, I suppose. Thebullet glanced off, turned by that leather coat of yours, I presume.Lucky for you; as it is, you will be all right in the fortnight."

  I felt relieved by his tone, and assured him, when he had patched me uptemporarily with strips torn from my shirt-sleeves and my ownhandkerchief, that I felt very little of the injury.

  "Now take my seat," he said, as he buttoned my coat round me. "I thinkI have had enough experience of motoring to ensure my taking you insafety to the nearest surgeon. It's infernally bad luck, though," hecontinued. "I would swear one of us must have hit our friend, and if wewere only in a position to follow him up, we should be pretty certain toeffect a capture."

  My mind had been considerably relieved to find that I was not seriouslyinjured, and the dose of whisky I had taken had pulled me together.

  "You've bound me up pretty tightly?" I asked.

  "You are right enough until we find a doctor," he answered.

  "In that case," I said, "if there's any chance of our catching our manto-night, I'm not going to chuck it away. Put the light back and let usget on."

  My mind was made up on the subject. One reason was that physical painalways makes me feel mad, and I would have given a great deal to geteven with the Pirate for that reason alone. Besides, call it vanity orwhat you will, I wasn't going to let any one say I had allowed a scratchto bowl me over. So the moment Forrest had replaced the light, I resumedmy seat in the car, asserting that I was fully capable of driving.

  The detective attempted to dissuade me from the attempt, but I was bentupon having my own way. He did not argue the question at any length, foras soon as he was in the car I backed into the middle of the road andjammed on our highest speed.

  In three minutes we were at Buntingford, and there we nearly ran into agroup of people who were gathered in the middle of the road. They werediscussing, as it happened, the appearance of the Pirate, who had passedthrough the town twenty minutes previously. Here Forrest made anotherfutile attempt to persuade me to see a surgeon immediately, but I wouldnot listen to him. We swept onward. I could scarcely see, but I sent theMercedes along recklessly, stopping for nothing until we reached Ware. Iwould never have driven in the manner I did in calmer moments. Forresttold me afterwards that his journey on the Pirate's car was nothing toit, for the car rocked so from side to side of the road that he wasnever certain whether I was not steering for the hedges; while at everybend his heart was in his mouth when he realized that the wheels werenever on the ground together.

  On the outskirts of Ware we learned that the Pirate had been seenapproaching the town, but that, instead of passing through the narrowstreets, he had doubled back in the direction of Stevenage. He had kepthis twenty minutes' start and I was for following him. Forrest was ofanother opinion.

  "According to his usual custom, he is obviously avoiding the towns," heargued; "and if, as I still suspect, his hiding-place is in the vicinityof St. Albans, we shall stand some chance of cutting him off if we takethe most direct route. He cannot be badly hurt, or we should have pickedhim up before this, and under any other circumstance we are not likelyto overtake him."

  I saw the force of his reasoning and we flew on. We heard nothing of himneither in Hertford nor in Hatfield.

  "Our only chance is at St. Albans," remarked my companion, and once moreI put my car to top speed.

  We were just about half way between the two towns when we saw the lightsof a motor ahead. I sounded the horn, or rather Forrest did, but thevehicle made no attempt to get out of the way. We caught up to thestranger hand over fist, and not until we were nearly touching did Islacken speed.

  As I did so the occupant of the car shouted out, "That you, Sutgrove?Never more pleased to meet with a friend in my life."

  It was Mannering.

  "Seen anything of the Pirate?" shouted Forrest, by way of reply.

  "Merely had the pleasure of exchanging shots with him ten minutes ago,"was the astounding answer. "Unfortunately he appears to have got thebetter of the exchange, for he has managed to put a bullet in myshoulder."

  "We have had a similar experience, and Mr. Sutgrove is the victim,"answered Forrest. "So I am afraid I cannot offer much assistance."

  "I think I can get to St. Albans all right," he replied. "It's only theleft, and I managed to get a handkerchief round it."

  "If you will let us pass," I said, "I will run on to St Albans and seethat assistance is sent to you."

  "Oh, I didn't notice I was taking all the road," he remarked, as he drewaside.

  Once more we drove ahead at our speed limit, and five minutes later westopped before the police office. There we found every one in blissfulignorance of the fact that the Pirate was abroad. Nor did any one elsesee him that night. Again he had mysteriously vanished undercircumstances which convinced the detective more firmly than ever thathis retreat was somewhere in the vicinity of my home.