Dangerous Deeds; Or, The Flight in the Dirigible

by Frank Cobb

  CHAPTER VII

  In a wild rush of words Lawrence told what he had discovered. O'Brienlistened closely and at the end of the account nodded his head.

  "You have 'em pickled this time, me jool," he said. "It is damnationenough if they so much as live in that place you're mentionin'. I knowthe local cutthroats and pipemen, while every son of Ham that walksthere has a razor ready for use, right in his closed fist. I'm that gladyou came out with a whole skin. Now don't talk; lave me think."

  He filled a pipe and slowly drawing on it, sat with his eyes fixed on acorner of the room, a look of abstraction on his usually jolly face.

  At last he spoke.

  "Here's how I dope it. It's plain Mr. Ridgeway has picked you on yourrecommendations to drive that dirigible. All right. Tomorrow you go toMr. Ridgeway as his guest or long-lost nephew or what not. Anyhow, you_stay right in his house_ as his guest. There's that much less chance oflosin' you if they get on to who you are. And it's a slick crowd we arebuttin' in on. When it comes time for you to start with your sillylittle papers and your shiny little jewelry wherever they belong, (andMr. Ridgeway will have to tell that,) you can just start on, and O'Brienwill take the job makin' the other crowd miss their train, as you mightsay. What's the time o' night?"

  "Twelve thirty," said Lawrence.

  "Pretty late," replied O'Brien, "but let's have a try."

  He picked up the telephone and almost immediately had Mr. Ridgeway onthe wire. After a moment's talk, he took his hat and told Lawrence tofollow him. In a taxi, they arrived at Mr. Ridgeway's house and foundthat gentleman reading in his room.

  O'Brien outlined his plan.

  "That is a very good idea," said Mr. Ridgeway. "Of course if this wasmerely an affair of those crown jewels, it would be easy to outwit ourfriends but those jewels mean little or nothing to the man who callshimself Smith. What he wants are the papers. Either he, or someone backof him, is staging a little revolution, I think, and the papers aretheir most important weapon. Who is Smith? Can't you make a guess,O'Brien?"

  O'Brien shook his head. "I can't, sir," he said regretfully. "All I wantis some good-luck fairy to point him out to me."

  "You will find him, never fear," said Mr. Ridgeway. "You have done toomany clever jobs for me to feel worried about this one. Well, Lawrence,I will be glad to have you here with me. When will you come?"

  "He is here now," laughed O'Brien. "I take no more chances. I'm likeyourself, sir; I'm thinkin' that the matter of these papers is an affairof nations."

  Mr. Ridgeway looked grave. "I can only say that the safe transfer ofthose papers is all that can possibly keep this country out of anotherwar as destructive and as deadly as the last. They have clever spies,and the only thing they have not surmised, guessed at, or proved aboutthis journey is the identity of the pilot. As I said at the first,Lawrence is protected by his youth." The great man sighed. "Lawrence, Iwish you were my son!" he said.

  "A nice kid," commended O'Brien with a twinkle. "But hard to manage,sir, and tellin' too little."

  For four days Lawrence was a guest in the big house, spending most ofthe time with his host and growing more and more devoted to the kindly,shrewd man. He often repeated his regret that there was no son to carryon his name, and one night in a confidential mood told Lawrence thatthere had been two little boys.

  "But we lost them both when they were scarcely more than babies," hesaid brokenly. "I cannot talk about it." He stopped and Lawrence,respecting his grief, turned away, not daring to offer the sympathy andaffection he felt.

  The subject was never referred to again, but now Lawrence knew thepathetic meaning of the two small, beautiful faces which had beenrendered in glass and which formed the central medallion in a greatstained glass window in the library. Near it, on the wall, was aportrait of Mrs. Ridgeway, painted only the year before. It was a mostgracious figure, with a sweet, beautiful, appealing face, full of sorrowbravely concealed. It held a strange fascination for Lawrence, who foundhimself looking at it by the hour. Mr. Ridgeway never spoke of thepicture, although Lawrence knew that no two people ever loved each otherbetter than the great man and his beautiful wife. That she had been sentaway to avoid possible harm was clear to Lawrence, and he felt that Mr.Ridgeway was very lonely. Lawrence tried to show him all the littleattentions that he could think of, and it pleased him to see how eagerlyMr. Ridgeway accepted them. Only once in awhile a sigh told the boy thatthe big heart still mourned for the two little fellows who had met anuntimely death so long ago. But no further word was spoken on thesubject.

  The fifth day of Lawrence's visit fell on Tuesday. He took his bath andhurriedly dressing, went down the broad stairs three steps at a time.For the cleverest sky pilot in the world was hungry just as though hehad been an ordinary boy with no thought above the Saturday footballgame or a coming exam. He fell upon the delicious breakfast with anamount of energy that made Mr. Ridgeway smile with pleasure.

  "I want you to eat a good big breakfast, old man," he said. "I want youto take me for a spin in the air after while."

  "That's good," said Lawrence. "If I don't fly more than I am doing now,I will have to give up my license and take a job as instructorsomewhere. I am getting all out of practice."

  "You can have some practice today," said Mr. Ridgeway. He went from thebreakfast table to the telephone, and immediately they hurried out tothe Aviation Field in Mr. Ridgeway's runabout. There the first personwho met them was O'Brien, all in leather, with his goggles in his hand.

  "Your things are in the locker room," he said to Lawrence. "Get intothem quickly. Mr. Ridgeway is plannin' quite a little trip for you."

  Ten minutes later, they embarked in one of the larger planes, and wentsailing off, O'Brien at the wheel, cutting a straight course toward theeast. In a wild rush of speed, reeling league after league of sky behindthem, they reached the Atlantic coast and, swerving, made for thedesolate reaches of Barnegat. Lawrence, to whom this was new territory,watched everything with the greatest interest.

  The tide was out, and just below the Inlet a half-mile stretch of beach,hard and firm, afforded a wonderful landing. O'Brien droppedbrilliantly, and leaving the plane, they walked back until they came tothe hangar where the new dirigible was housed. Lawrence gave a quicksigh of delight when he saw the balloon. He had never seen anything soclean-lined and so sporty looking as the new model. For it wasabsolutely the latest thing in construction, and Lawrence longed to gethis hand on the steering gear.

  "What do you think of that?" asked O'Brien as Mr. Ridgeway went outsidewith one of the men, who seemed to be in charge.

  "I never saw anything so fine!" declared Lawrence. "I never saw anythingjust like it. Even the new models in the pictures in the trade journalsare not as good in outline, and do not look as light in construction."

  "They are not," said O'Brien. "This is the first time I have seen thisbut I know it was designed for Mr. Ridgeway."

  "What is its fuel?" asked Lawrence.

  "Hyolax," said O'Brien. "In a year no gasoline will be used except forold type autos and farm trucks. I tell you hyolax is some bird when itcomes to power!"

  "I wonder if I will have any trouble managing it," said Lawrencedubiously. "I ought to try it out, seems to me."

  "That is what we came for," said O'Brien. "I have an idea you are goingacross very soon. And Mr. Ridgeway wanted to let you have one chanceanyhow to get used to this type of dirigible. As far as hyolax goes, itworks exactly like gasoline except that it is about twenty times moreconcentrated and its driving power is much greater. You will be crazyover it."

  A few minutes later the big dirigible, manoeuvered into the open, roselazily from the sand and in obedience to a command from Mr. Ridgeway,they turned out to sea. For the next two hours, high above the tossingwaves, Lawrence manoeuvered the balloon, learning its tricks as a goodhorseman learns the whims of a favorite steed. Lawrence was crazy overit, as O'Brien had said, and the two older men, Mr. Ridgeway andO'Brien, as well as the
two mechanicians who accompanied them, wereastounded by the delicate perceptions and skillful handling that the boypilot gave the balloon.

  When at last they had, as O'Brien expressed it, "put the tube to bed"and had once more mounted in the invisible roads of the air, Lawrencewas at the wheel of the plane, and bad work he made of it for the firstten minutes. It was like driving a flivver after a twelve-cylindertouring car. The plane wobbled and shifted until he hit his strokeagain. Reaching the home field, Lawrence silently hopped out of theplane and followed Mr. Ridgeway and O'Brien into the auto. He was verystill all the way home. The day was gone, and dinner was served soonafter their return. Then Mr. Ridgeway sat frowning, and presently leanedforward to say:

  "I will have to have a talk with you both, and on my life I don't knowwhere we will be safe. I am afraid everywhere."

  "Right you are!" said O'Brien. "But I have just the place. A brother ofmine has a drug store over on H street. There is a basement where hekeeps his surplus stock. The stairs is at the right of the store as yougo in, away back behind the screen where they dodge to make you up tonicpills out of newspaper and sugar.

  "I will go ahead, and tip me brother off, and then you come along wan ata time, and when you go in hold on to the left lapel of your coats sohe'll know you and go right back to the stairs and down 'em. I will havechairs ready."

  The plan worked, and Mr. Ridgeway and Lawrence wandered through thesmall drug store and down the concealed stairs, to find O'Brien readywith three soap boxes for seats.

  Four walls, covered with rows of bottles of all sizes under the sun,comprised the furnishings. As O'Brien said, there was not room enoughanywhere for a kitten to hide. There was a door at the top of thestairs, and this O'Brien closed and locked. Another door at the bottomhe also closed, then turned expectantly to Mr. Ridgeway. That gentlemansmiled.

  "Now then," he said, "it is time for me to show you all the cards. Youknow, O'Brien, who this Smith is?"

  "The most dangerous scoundrel in Europe, and the slickest knave thatever planned the downfall of his own country to satisfy his ownmiserable ambition. That much and more I know, but try as I may I can'tget my eyes on him, nor yet my hands."

  "He is slick all right," agreed Mr. Ridgeway. "But thanks to this extradirigible and the place at Barnegat, we will elude him. That is all Iwant now. After we are off, O'Brien, start something that will bringthat gang inside the law, and arrest the whole bunch on suspicion orwhat not. Anything to keep them from doing any mischief."

  "But Mr. Ridgeway, sir, it is now, _now_ while you are here that theyare dangerous."

  Mr. Ridgeway shook his head.

  "Unfortunately not." He took a paper out of his pocket and handed itover to O'Brien. Lawrence looked over his shoulder and slowly spelledout the words of a curiously printed anonymous letter. It was written onheavy wrapping paper, and read:

  "This is not a threat. It is simply to tell you what will happen. If thecrown jewels that are lying in the Treasury Building and the papersintended for a certain republic are taken out of this country, that day,mind you, the President of the United States will forfeit his life andso will you. You will remember this, because it is the truth. Make nomistakes."

  O'Brien whistled. "So _that's_ your little scheme, is it?" He pondered."Of course it will be easy to take care of the president," he said. "Andyou will be safe up in the air, but no one knows what else they will do.I think it's up to O'Brien to get after them. Well, thanks to this lad,I know where to find most of the gang. When do you start?"

  "I want to go tomorrow," said Mr. Ridgeway. "You see we have really twojourneys to make; two errands to accomplish, and the sooner we doaccomplish them, the better it will be. I will go from here to the WhiteHouse and have my papers put in order, and have the custodian of thejewels ready with them tomorrow morning."

  "Do you specially mind when you start?" asked O'Brien. "I wish you couldset the time for evening. I want a whole day to get hold of my littlefamily party. Even if I start tonight, it may take me that long."

  "Not at all; not at all!" said Mr. Ridgeway. "It makes no difference,only you can see by this letter that those miscreants must be lockedup."

  "I will attend to that if I have to have a fight with them myself," saidO'Brien.

  "Then let us be going," said Mr. Ridgeway. "Lawrence, do you want tocome down as far as Pennsylvania Avenue and keep the car there for me?"

  "Yes, indeed," said Lawrence.

  When Mr. Ridgeway left the car a safe distance up the broad glitteringavenue, Lawrence settled back and proceeded to enjoy himself. One of themost beautiful thoroughfares in the world stretched before him, andalong it went representatives of every country and clime. He was intenton the pageant when a whining voice at his elbow recalled him to thepresent. A beggar, ragged, blear eyed, and out of place in the dazzlingcleanness of the avenue, had shuffled up to the curb and was begging.

  As Lawrence looked at the man, some strange picture in his brain, longforgotten and hideous, suddenly sprang into view. Where had he ever seenthe face before him? Where had he heard that peculiar, deep, gratingvoice?

  As he stared, the man looked him straight in the face for a minute andLawrence saw a deep, three-cornered scar on the man's chin. On the spurof the moment he leaned down, and said:

  "Moll certainly soaked you a good one, didn't she?" at the same timepointing to the scar.

  The man leaped back with an oath. "Who are you?" he demanded, and then,"Moll's dead," he added.

  "I know," said Lawrence.

  "Who are you?" repeated the man.

  "Snooks," said Lawrence.

  "Dressed like that, sittin' in an auto?" cried the beggar. "You must 'a'found your folks!"

  "No; I am driving for the man who owns this car," said Lawrence, hissense of caution keeping back the facts of the case. "I never found myfolks."

  "You want to advertise," said the man. "Tell you all I know about 'emfor a dollar. Thanks! See that there Moll, she read about gettin'ransoms for folks and she hired out for nursemaid. I never knew who to.She didn't trust me, an' me married to her lawful! But one day 'boutsundown she sneaked in with two kids dressed dandy. And I ast her whatwas it she had, and she said, 'Oh, about two hundred thousand dollars.'I didn't like it, an' I said so, so she got mad and walked off with thetwo little beggars down toward the river.

  "She told me afterwards. She took off the little fellers' shoes andstockin's. It was ragin' hot, mid-summer; and she laid them on the bankwith her own hat and their little bunnits, and then she let 'em paddle.They just could walk. How she told it, she just turned round, and therewas one of 'em out in the current a-sinkin', and the other rollin' downthe bank. She grabbed him, but the other had went; and she was so scaredshe comes runnin' home and there we was with another kid, which was you.Moll didn't go away nor nothin', but we kep' close about it, because itmight 'a' meant the chair. They found the bunnits, and nex' day or sothey got the other kid's body. And the papers said Moll and the two kidswas all drownded. But you wasn't drownded. And Moll used to say thatwoman in the pitcher Moll had in her bag would've gave a million dollarsto get a track of you, but we didn't darst do a thing. Besides," saidthe man, "there's a plenty of kids!"

  "Can't you remember the name of the people?" asked Lawrence anxiously.

  With a look of sly cunning, the man shook his head. "No, I don'tremember. They don't want you by now, and you are all right. Letsleepin' dogs lay is my motter. I ain't goin' to put my head in no nooseto oblige anybody. What they ever done for me, I say?"

  "I won't tell on you," begged Lawrence.

  The man looked around, then as he saw a procession of some sort movinggaily up the avenue, he said, "No, you don't get no chance. You aredoin' well. Let sleepin' dogs lay," and dodged quickly across the lineof the procession and was lost to sight, just a miserable human fragmenton the tide of humanity.

  Lawrence, his brain whirling, pressed a hand over the pocket containingthe photograph.

  "Oh, Pretty, Pretty!" he said in
a whisper. "Are you my mother, dear?"