Boys of the Wireless; Or, A Stirring Rescue from the Deep

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XIV--TURNING THE TABLES

  "This is getting interesting--I think I am beginning to understand thisaffair," murmured Tom amid his helpless discomfort.

  Mart Walters stepped into the hut. He felt about with his feet, and evengroped with his hands. As one toe touched the prostrate Tom the visitorcame to a stop.

  "We'll have a little light on the subject," he observed, drawing out acigar lighter. Mart fancied it was "mannish" and grand to exhibit thisappurtenance when he lit a cigarette. He snapped a light and held theflame over Tom. Then he extinguished it, and stooping unsnapped the gagfrom the captive's lips, letting it drop under his chin.

  Mart had not spoken to Tom since the day of the ducking at the creek.Twice Tom had met him in Rockley Cove, and had nodded to him pleasantly.This courtesy had been rewarded with a malevolent scowl. It wasevidently still in the mind of our hero's enemy to "get even" with him.

  More than once Tom had seen Mart on the Fernwood pier or in the powerfullaunch with the elegant young swell, Bert Aldrich. Several evenings Tomhad passed at the Morgan mansion at little social gatherings of MissGrace and her friends. On these occasions, however, Aldrich and hissatellite had made a point to cut Tom direct. Tom had not minded this inthe least, for Grace had laughed outright at such ridiculous manoeuvres.

  Tom now instantly made up his mind that the present episode hadsomething to do with his visits to Grace. Mart was not above meanplotting, and his supercilious friend, Bert Aldrich, had always struckTom as an unpleasant cad.

  "There's only just about five minutes to spare, Tom Barnes," spoke Martsmartly.

  "For what?" demanded Tom.

  "For me to save you."

  "What from?"

  "The Black Caps."

  "You train with them, do you?" interrogated Tom.

  "Who, me? No, indeed!" answered Mart. "It's this way: I'm your friend."

  "Go ahead, Mart."

  "The Barbers don't like you any too well. They think the best way theycan beat your game is to keep you from coming here."

  "Coming where?" challenged Tom specifically.

  "Well, down to the Morgan place. They don't want you sneaking aroundanywhere near them."

  "Oh, that's it, is it?" observed Tom.

  "I overheard their talk. They've gone to get some tar and feathers.They're going to muss you up bad. I know them pretty well."

  "I see you do," remarked Tom, significantly.

  "Oh, I don't mean that I chum with them, or anything like that,"corrected Mart, in a flustered manner. "But, I have--why,well--influence, that's it, with them. Then again, I'm interestedpersonally."

  "How are you interested?" inquired Tom.

  "Well, I'll just be plain with you. My friend, Bert Aldrich, is sweet onGrace Morgan, and you've spoiled it."

  "Indeed," said Tom simply.

  "He thinks you have prejudiced Grace against him, and he's mad as ahatter about it. See here, she isn't your class. You know sheain't--half a million, classy family. Why, you're poor. Then again,she's going south soon, and when she gets into society she'll have tomeet Bert and his family, and take up with him again--see?"

  "Get along, Mart," railed Tom, "you're progressing finely."

  "I'll save you from the Black Caps if you'll agree to keep away fromGrace Morgan. There's the straight of it. What do you say?"

  "I say no," responded Tom promptly.

  "You won't do it?"

  "Hardly."

  "You'll be sorry."

  "All right."

  "Suppose--suppose Bert gives you fifty dollars, will you keep away?"

  "Say, Mart," observed Tom, quietly, but with force, "you're too cheap.Grace Morgan is worth a million, if she is worth a cent. You can't scareme off nor buy me off. She's a dear little lady, my good friend, and Iwouldn't give up her company under any circumstances as long as mycoming seems to please her."

  "Rot you!" shouted Mart, fairly infuriated at the failure of hischerished schemes. "I've a good mind to kick you. I'll do it, yes, Iwill----"

  "Stop there, you miserable scamp!"

  "Let go!"

  "Speak another word, and I'll half choke the life out of you!"

  "Ben!" murmured Tom gratefully.

  A form had flashed through the doorway. There was the sound of astruggle, a thud, as Mart Walters' body struck the floor.

  "I'm sitting on him, Tom," announced the newcomer. "Lie still, or I'llknock you silly. Where's that gag, Tom? I've got it."

  Tom felt the hand of his friend grope in the dark and remove the gagfrom under his chin. Then, from the squirmings and splutterings of Mart,he knew that Ben had silenced him effectually. Next, Ben whipped out hispocket knife, and the ropes holding Tom a prisoner were severed.

  "Trim and tidy," reported the diligent Ben as he helped Tom to his feet."I've gagged him and tied him for keeps. Come outside."

  "Why, how in the world did you happen to come along in the nick oftime?" propounded Tom, wonderingly.

  "Never mind that now. You do just what I tell you to do. You were boundfor Morgan's?"

  "Yes."

  "Get there, then. I'll come along a little later. I've got somethingelse to do hereabouts."

  "But Mart, here?"

  "He'll be taken care of, never fear," retorted Ben with a chuckle.

  "And the Black Caps?"

  "You forget all about it till I see you later," insisted Ben. "Therewill be quite a story to tell. Don't spoil it by hanging around here. Iknow my business. Go along."

  Tom did as directed. He could guess that there was some motive in hischum's insistence. He rearranged his disordered attire, left the spot,and half an hour later had followed Ben's directions, having indeedforgotten everything except that he was seated on the Morgan porch withcharming Grace as his companion.

  "What is that?" exclaimed Grace suddenly.

  Tom arose quickly to his feet at the startling inquiry. The light fromthe front rooms illumined the porch, but beyond the shadows were vagueand dim. Amid these, Tom, peering, discerned some bustling forms.

  He moved towards the button controlling the electric lights at eitherside of the pillars at the steps. Just as he pressed it, ear-splittingsounds rang out.

  "The Black Caps!" exclaimed Tom, as he recognized his recentpersecutors.

  "Oh, what are they here for?" cried Grace, timidly clinging to Tom'sarm.

  "Fire him, men!"

  A struggling form in the grasp of the six young outlaws was forciblypropelled forward, landed on the porch steps and rolled over on thegravel walk.

  "Cut for it!" came the sharp mandate.

  The Black Caps vanished as if by magic. Tom stared hard. Grace,trembling with excitement, gazed vaguely at the figure arising to itsfeet.

  "Why," she faltered, catching sight of the terrified face of theunwilling visitor, "it is Mart Walters!"

  It was Mart, indeed, and he was a sight. From head to foot loosefluttering feathers waved ghost-like in the night breeze. Mart was notbound now, but the gag was still in his mouth. He cast one appalledglance at Grace and Tom, tore the gag loose and uttered a shrill yell ofrage and chagrin. Then, throwing his hands above his head, he, too,disappeared.

  "What does it all mean, Tom?" quavered Grace with a bloodless face."There--there is somebody else!"

  She shrank back anew with the words.

  "It's all right," Tom reassured her. "It is Ben Dixon."

  Ben, smothering a laugh, came up the steps, lifting his cap and smiling,his eyes twinkling.

  "The biter bit, the tables turned, Miss Grace," he said.

  "Ben, explain what it all means," pleaded Grace. "Tom won't."

  "WHY," SHE FALTERED, "IT IS MART WALTERS!"]

  "It's like him not to," declared Tom's staunch chum. "I got a hint froma friend early in the evening that the Barber boys were on the rampage.I missed Tom by 'phone and started to intercept him on his way here,when I ran across the crowd talking with Mart Walters. I learned thewhole scheme, and followed Walters to a hut wh
ere the gang hadimprisoned Tom, and--well, I set Tom free and tied and gagged Walters inhis place."

  "What for?" questioned Grace.

  "To give him a needed lesson," answered Ben promptly. "When the crowdreturned I suppose they had arranged if Walters didn't come back to themthey were to 'fix' Tom, as they called it. Two of them carried a featherbed. Two others carried pails of soft soap. It seemed they intended touse tar, but couldn't get any. They ripped open the bed, deluged Walterswith the soap, mistaking him for Tom, rolled him in among the feathers,and--you saw him. They never got onto the fact that it was the fellowwho had hired them who got the dose they intended for Tom."

  "Why did he hire them?" inquired Grace.

  "Because that Aldrich cad plotted with Walters to scare Tom away fromcoming here to see you," explained Ben bluntly.

  Grace Morgan's eyes flashed. A flush of real anger came into her cheeks.

  "Mart and Mr. Aldrich did that?" she cried. "Oh, they shall never comeinto this house again." And on hearing this Tom Barnes felt rewarded forall the tribulation he had gone through that night.