The Rebel Spy

by J. T. Edson

  Supported by the two men, Dusty spread a thick pad of blanket over the top of the wall. Although the broken edges of the glass made uncomfortable bumps, they could not cut through several thicknesses of the folded material. Sitting astride the padding, Dusty gave the grounds a quick scrutiny and saw no sign of guards. Already Paupin was being hoisted up by the two men and at Dusty’s signal took a seat facing him. Leaving her post, Belle joined the men. She unslung the coil of rope from her shoulder and tossed one end to Dusty so he could haul up Paupin’s tool bag. Next Belle came up and joined the two men on top of the wall.

  “I’ll go down first,” she whispered.

  Gripping the rope, Belle slid down it to the ground with Dusty holding the other end. The girl kept close to the wall, taking the bag which Paupin lowered and then the two kegs. On the other side of the wall, Willie handed Bludso up to the waiting men and then received their help to climb up and drop down, joining Belle.

  “Keep close to the wall!” Dusty ordered.

  When making his plans, Dusty gambled on there being no trip-wires or ground torpedoes close to the surrounding walls, or on the main path to the house. Unless he missed his guess, the Yankees would expect an attacking party to approach through the cover of the bushes and must have laid their defences accordingly. So he planned to reach the house by the front path; doing the unexpected often paid dividends.

  “I’d like to unlock that gate before going to the house, Cap’n,” Paupin breathed. “If we have to run for it, there won’t be time.”

  “It’s your game we’re playing, Saul,” Dusty answered. “Go to it.”

  By the time they reached the gates, Dusty knew the first part of his gamble had been successful. They had encountered no trip-wires or ground torpedoes so close to the wall. Nor had Paupin found any difficulty in opening the heavy lock securing the gates. Before going further, the party took precautions against being recognised. Each one carried a cloth hood, made up that evening, designed to cover the head and trail down to the shoulders. In addition the men wore clothes which could not lead to their being identified. Slipping on their hoods, taking care that they could see through the eye-holes, the party advanced silently along the edge of the path.

  Lights glowed in the main hail and a few other rooms, showing that at least some of the six men were present and not yet in bed. The sight did not cause any thought among the party that Dusty’s plans were going wrong. Working on the assumption that the Yankees would expect any such an attempt to come between midnight and dawn, Dusty arranged for them to reach the house just after nine o’clock. In that way, he hoped to take the defenders by surprise.

  Not that Dusty intended to rush the front door. Close to the house, he left the path and walked along the side of the building. According to Willie, the servants could walk around the outside of the house provided they stuck close to the wall. So Dusty took a chance that there would be no protective devices in that area. He hoped that the Yankees did not go to the trouble of rigging trip-wires or ground torpedoes each night and removing them before the staff arrived in the morning. For all that Dusty walked along with extreme care, feeling at the ground ahead delicately before chancing his weight on it.

  At last they reached the rear of the house and found it, as Dusty hoped, silent without signs of occupation. Moving by the small Texan, Paupin took the lead. He had already decided that tackling the kitchen door would be a waste of time as it was bolted in addition to the lock. So he examined one of the windows and nodded in satisfaction. Opening the tool bag, Paupin took out a can of molasses and a sheet of thick paper. After smearing some of the molasses on one side of the paper, he applied its adhesive surface to the pane of glass separating him from the window catch. Next he drew a glazier’s glass-cutter from his bag and carefully ran its working edge around the sides of the pane. Dropping the cutter into his jacket pocket, he took hold of the edge of the paper with one hand and tapped its centre with the other. A faint click sounded and the pane moved inwards a trifle. With a firm but gentle pull, Paupin drew the pane, firmly held to the paper, towards him and passed it to Belle.

  “I’ll go in and unfasten the door,” Paupin offered, slipping back the window catch and raising the sash.

  Slipping silently through the open window, Paupin disappeared into the building. In a surprisingly short time the kitchen door opened and he grinned at the surprised faces of his companions.

  “That was quick,” Dusty said.

  “The key was in the lock,” Paupin admitted. “Everything’s quiet enough.”

  On entering the kitchen Dusty and Belle crossed straight to its inner door. Bludso and Willie set down their kegs while Dusty eased open the door and looked along the dimly-lit passage which led to the front of the building. Followed by Belle, the small Texan crept along the passage. Ahead of them lay a corner and, around it, the main hall. Just as they approached the corner, Belle and Dusty heard footsteps coming towards them.

  The man who came around the corner clearly had no suspicion of their presence. Seeing them before him, he came to a halt and stared. Given a chance, he might have made trouble for he had size and weight in addition to a Navy Colt stuck in his waistband. Only he did not receive the opportunity to make use of either his heftiness or the firearm. Up lashed Belle’s right foot, driving hard into the pit of the man’s groin. Coming so unexpectedly and hard, the kick stopped any outcry the man meant to raise and doubled him over. Dusty followed up Belle’s kick with remarkably smooth timing and team-work. Around lashed his left arm in a tegatana chop to the back of the man’s neck, dropping him silent and unconscious to the floor.

  “One!” Belle breathed.

  “Hawg-tie him, Jim!” Dusty ordered. “Let’s see to some of the others, Belle.”

  Leaving Bludso and Willie to attend to securing the first prisoner, Dusty and Belle continued to move stealthily along the passage. When making his plans, Dusty decided that Paupin must stay in the background until after the occupants of the house had been secured. They could not replace the safe-breaker if he should be injured, so Dusty refused to take any chances. On reaching the end of the passage, Dusty and Belle looked into the main hall. A wide staircase ran down from the first floor to the centre of the ball. Doors gave access to various rooms off the hall, but only one of them interested Dusty. First item on his agenda was the capture of the telegraph key so that no warning might be passed to the waiting soldiers. From where he and Belle crouched at the side of the stairs, they could see through the open door of the first room on the right. It appeared to be empty; certainly no man sat at the table on which rested the telegraph key.

  Voices sounded as a door at the left of the hall opened and footsteps thudded, coming in the direction of the stairs. There would be no time to back off into the passage, nor dare Dusty and Belle chance crouching by the stairs in the hope of not being seen.

  Thrusting himself forward, Dusty landed before the men. He went straight into a gun-fighter’s crouch and the Army Colt flowed from his waistband. Combined with their surprise at Dusty’s sudden, unexpected appearance, his speed on the draw caused the men to freeze. There were four of them, all in their shirt-sleeves and none armed. That left only one to be accounted for, unless Willie had made a mistake in his reckoning.

  “Don’t make a sound, any of you!” Dusty growled, his gun making a casual arc that seemed to single out each man individually without losing the drop on the remainder. Slowly Dusty and Belle moved forward and he went on, “Back towards the wall real easy and quiet.”

  Obediently the quartet backed away, keeping spread out just far enough to prevent any one of them taking cover behind the rest. Dusty wanted to get the men in a position where he could make them lean with palms on the wall and bodies inclined so that sudden movement would be impossible. Then tying them up would be easy.

  Unnoticed by either Dusty or Belle, a plump, well-dressed man appeared at the head of the stairs. He took in the scene and backed away silently into a room, to emerge a
second or two later holding a Navy Colt. Although he lined the gun on Dusty, the man held his fire. At that range he doubted if he could make a hit, and so he began to tiptoe down the stairs. Although Dusty and Belle saw the glances darted behind them by the quartet, each suspected a trick. However the girl started to turn her head, meaning to look and make sure no danger threatened them.

  Having finished tying up the first captive, Jim Bludso came into sight, his knife in his hand. He saw the man on the stairs. Even without recognising the man as Gaton, the Confederate printer who sold his skill to the Yankees, Bludso could not have acted in any other way. Even as one of the quartet prepared to yell a warning, Bludso threw his knife so that it passed between the stair case rail in its flight at Gaton. Steel flickered through the air, sinking into Gaton’s plump throat. He gurgled, jerked and fired the Colt, but its bullet did no more than shatter a vase by the door. Then, gagging and choking on his own blood, the traitor crumpled forward and crashed down the stairs.

  Instinctively Belle and Dusty swung their heads in the direction of the shot. Leaping forward, the biggest man struck down Dusty’s gun arm, gripping it in both his hands to try to shake the revolver free. A second leaped to lock his arms around Belle, holding her as he yelled an order.

  “Get to the telegraph!”

  After throwing his knife, Bludso charged across the hall, tackling the third man and Willie dashed towards the telegraph room. Swinging around at its door the Negro faced the approaching fourth member of Gaton’s guard and they disappeared into the room.

  Deciding that wearing her gunbelt might attract unwanted attention, Belle had left it at the Busted Boiler. However she had the special bracelet on her left wrist. The man gripped her around the upper arms and from the side, in a position where she could not kick him hard enough to effect a release. That did not stop her getting her hands together. Quickly she eased the bracelet off with her right hand, then raked its razor-sharp edge across the man’s upper wrist. With a yell of pain he loosened his hold. Even as Belle drove her left elbow crashing into the man’s ribs to send him stumbling away, she saw Dusty’s assailant sail over the small Texan’s shoulder.

  Willie came sprawling through the door of the telegraph room, his hood twisted around so that its eye-holes faced the rear. Before he could save himself, he crashed to the floor. Snarling in rage, the fourth man appeared at the door. Then he realised what he must do and put aside thoughts of attacking the Negro. Turning the man started to make for the table again.

  Racing across the hall, Belle hurdled over Willie and as she landed bounded into the room again. Her feet smashed into the white man’s shoulders, hurling him across the room. On landing from the leaping high kick, Belle flung herself at the table in an attempt to unscrew the wires from the key. While she tried to free the first wire, a hand fell on her shoulder. Swinging around faster than the man pulled, Belle lashed up her right hand to rake the bracelet across his face. Blood spurted and the man fell back a pace in agony. Placing her foot against his stomach, Belle shoved hard. In the hall Willie was just turning his hood so he could see again when the man came backwards through the telegraph-room’s door. Still on his knees, the Negro linked hands and smashed them into the back of the man’s knees to bring him crashing down.

  Crouching ready to attack again, Belle saw Willie leap on to the man and gave her attention to the urgent matter of disabling the telegraph key. Swiftly she disconnected the wires, hurled the key-box against the wall and then darted into the hall ready to help her friends. She found her services would not be needed and the situation under control. Although Bludso knelt holding his side and muttering curses and Dusty had lost his hood but gained a bloody nose, they need not worry for the four guards sprawled all around them.

  “Are you all right, Belle?” Dusty asked.

  “I’ll live,” she replied. “How about you?”

  “I’m the same as you. Make a start with Saul while we tend to this bunch.”

  Leaving the men to tie up their groaning, helpless enemies, Belle went to the foot of the stairs. Her face showed distaste as she knelt by Gaton’s body and searched its pockets in the hope of finding the safe keys. Failing to do so, she and Paupin went upstairs and made a quick but thorough examination of the man’s room. Again they failed to produce the keys.

  “It’s as I expected,” Belle admitted. “He probably hands them to the soldiers after the house staff leave at night. Let’s take a look at the safe.”

  Returning to the hall, Belle and Paupin entered the study as being the most likely place to house the safe. The guess proved correct and Paupin looked over the steel box with faint contempt.

  “They’re sure easy,” he commented. “I could open it with a bobby-pin.”

  “Do you want one?” Belle smiled.

  “Naw! I’ve brought my tools, so I may as well use them. Go tell the fellers to start getting ready to leave. This won’t take long.”

  Chapter 14

  Miss Boyd Renews an Acquaintance

  Although Paupin probably could not have opened the safe with a bobby-pin, he found little difficulty in doing so using his tools. While the safe-breaker handled his part of the affair, all the others worked hard. Half an hour later Belle Boyd stood watching the counterfeiting plates, faces scratched and marred, bubbling in a container of acid to complete their destruction. In the cellar Dusty Fog waited to start the fire which would consume all the money already printed and the paper to make more. The printing-press had been ruined, inks, dyes and chemicals poured out of their containers.

  “Ready, Belle?” he asked as the girl entered.

  “When you are,” she replied and passed a thick notebook to him. “Put this in your pocket. It’s details of the entire business, what shipments they’ve sent off, where to, stuff like that.”

  “It’ll be handy,” Dusty admitted. “Willie and Jim’ve gone up to clear those jaspers out of the house.”

  “I saw them,” the girl smiled. “Willie’s taking along a bottle of whisky he found, says it will cure his rheumatism—if he ever gets it.”

  “There’s nothing like being prepared,” Dusty grinned. “I’ll start the fire, Belle. Get going.”

  By the door of the cellar Dusty rasped a match on his pants’ seat and tossed it into the centre of the room. At first only a tiny finger of flame rose, but it grew by the second. A composition of benzole, coal tar, turpentine, residum and crude petroleum could be relied upon to burn well, as the makers of the incendiary shells from which it came knew. Watching the fire spread and grow, Dusty doubted if the Yankees would recover any part of their counterfeiting plant. To slow down any fire-fighting force which might arrive, Dusty spilled the last of the composition on the floor and up the cellar’s wooden steps. Almost before he reached the top, he saw the first fingers of flame creeping after him.

  All the lights were out in the hall by the time Dusty reached it. Already Bludso and Willie had dragged the bound and gagged Yankees from the house and far enough along the path to be safe should the whole house take fire. On Dusty joining them, the party hurried along to the main gates. So far no sign of the fire showed and muttered congratulations passed among the raiders.

  Pulling open the gate, Jim Bludso allowed Belle to lead the way. Followed by Paupin, then Willie, the girl stepped on to St Charles Avenue. Just too late she heard the grass-muffled feet of approaching men and saw several soldiers running towards her. By keeping to the wide, tree-dotted grass border of the street, the soldiers had escaped detection until almost too late.

  Clearly the men came ready for trouble. Without challenging, the leader of the approaching party brought up his revolver and fired. Then a rifle cracked and its bullet struck the gate just in front of Dusty, causing him to take an involuntary pace to the rear. In doing so, he prevented Bludso from leaving.

  “Run for it!” Belle shouted.

  More shots rang out as the girl darted off along the street, closely followed by Willie and Paupin. Gun in hand, Dusty
tried to go through the gate. Once again lead drove him back and a glance told him that there could be no leaving through the front entrance.

  “We’ll have to try the back, Jim!” he snapped, throwing a couple of shots at the rapidly approaching soldiers.

  While Dusty did not hit any of them, he caused the soldiers to slow down. Turning, Dusty raced with Bludso along the path. Half of the soldiers approached the gates cautiously and the remainder charged by in hot pursuit of Belle’s party. Already a small glow of fire showed in the house, but Dusty and Bludso ignored it. Hurdling the bound men, they ran along in front of the house, swung down the side and reached the rear. By sticking close to the wall again they avoided the chance of running into trip-wires and reached the rear gate. Although Dusty was prepared to shoot open the lock, the need did not arise.

  “They’d got slack!” Bludso said. “The key’s in the lock.”

  Swifly the engineer turned the key and Dusty drew open the bolts. Opening the gate, they stepped out. Nobody challenged them, the narrow street at the rear of the houses being deserted. Dusty transferred the key to the outside of the gate and turned it in the lock as Bludso closed the exit. With that done they moved off silently and could hear the first of their pursuers running towards the gate.

  “It’s locked!” yelled a voice. “They must still be in the grounds.”

  “Guard the gate, two of you,” barked another. “The rest come with me to see if we can put out that fire.”

  “But those two—.”

  “Leave them. If they’re roaming around the garden, we’ll soon know it.”

  “Where now, Jim?” Dusty whispered.

  “Back to the Busted Boiler as quick as we can. If I know Willie, he’ll be taking Miss Belle and Saul there. Likely we’ll meet up on the way.”