What feelings that voice inspired in the hearts of Brown and his confederates may never be known. But it must have sounded to them like the voice of doom, for now their consciences must have told them that retribution was at hand. They had dared to be traitors, and had sought to betray a great free country. For gold, they had sacrificed honor and respect, and now, gold had failed them, as gold always does.
Again Mr. Southwick’s voice boomed out:
“Do you surrender?”
There was no answer, but three dark figures stepped from the car, and with hands raised high in the air, moved into the open.
Instantly, Mr. Southwick, attended by the men in his car, moved forward to meet them. O’Hara and Maitland, followed by Danny, also joined the group.
His features distorted with hate and chagrin, Brown stood before the stern government official. At his side stood Tom Whalen, sullenly defiant, and Jo, the little Jap chauffeur, who, with oriental calmness and imperturbability, surveyed his captors without moving an eyelash.
In the meantime, the third machine had already reached the ranch.
Jumping from their machine, Burns and his companions quickly searched the outbuildings of the ranch, and finding nothing of consequence, sat down to await the arrivals of the others. While they were thus engaged, the sound of purring automobiles in the distance suddenly ceased, and the sound of shots, carried on the still night air, fell on their ears.
Instantly alert, and without waiting to start their car again, the four members of the party rushed across the ranch in the direction of the firing. As they swung around the corner of the bungalow, they were astonished at the spectacle that confronted them.
Three menacing revolvers were pointed at Brown and his companions, who had been marched to the side of the bungalow at Mr. Southwick’s direction. There, arms in air, they stood, uneasily moving from side to side as they awaited the further commands of the government official.
With a hurried “At your service, sir,” Burns and the three detectives joined their superior.
“Search these fellows!” commanded Mr. Southwick.
The men jumped forward, and while leveled revolvers continued to insure the good behavior of the three captives, Burns and his agile-fingered helpers went to work, turning their pockets inside out, and removing everything that they came across.
In a few minutes they had exposed a veritable arsenal — revolvers, a half dozen boxes of bullets, wicked-looking knives, and a considerable amount of American and Mexican money. Brown’s inside pocket yielded a bulky packet of papers, and this was immediately placed in Mr. Southwick’s keeping.
While this scene was being enacted, Danny and 0 ‘Hara, accompanied by Maitland, bad conducted a search of Brown’s automobile. Nothing was found in the front part of the machine, but under the tonneau seat a heavy wooden chest was revealed, locked and bolted on three sides. After they had transferred this to Mr. Southwick’s car, they returned to the group by the bungalow.
The eastern sky was now shot with faint streaks of light, which proclaimed the coming of dawn. Now, for the first time, it would be possible to make a thorough search of the premises.
As O’Hara came up, Brown glared at him as though seeing him for the first time since the arrival of the raiding party.
“So you’re the informer, are you?” he said, wrathfully. “A fine patriot you are! Tour friends must be pretty bad off to get help from criminals.”
0 ‘Hara was about to reply, when Mr. Southwick turned to the German, and said, acidly:
“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to talk later, Brown. Just now, what we want from you is information. I have evidence that your wife was here last night. Where is she now? Speak the truth. Where is she?”
A sneer passed over the cold face of the man.
“If it will do you any good to know,” he said, “she is in Mexico by this time. Perhaps you’d like to catch her, too, eh? Yes, and maybe the Mexicans will help you. Suppose you try?” Doubtless the man spoke the truth.
The stately woman whose beauty had so impressed O’Hara on his arrival at the ranch, was nowhere to be found. By this time the bungalow and its adjacent buildings had already been searched by the busy men.
O’Hara turned to Danny, who was standing at his side, and said in a low voice:
“I can’t say that I am sorry for that, Danny. This is a terrible situation for a woman to be mixed up in, and somehow, I hate to see a woman in trouble even when she deserves it.”
Danny gave a nod of approval.
“That’s right, Uncle Jim,” agreed the young man. “I know exactly how you feel. I think every real man feels the same way. Somehow, we hate to think that a beautiful woman could be mixed up in anything so disagreeable as this. Well, we’ve got this man Brown, anyway, and he’s the real power behind the throne. At least, I think so.”
Meantime, Mr. Southwick was receiving reports from the detectives who were searching every nook and corner of the ranch-
“The ranch is deserted, sir,” said one of the detectives who had come down in Burns’s car. “We’ve gone over every shack on the place with a fine-tooth comb, and everything is just about cleaned out.”
Mr. Southwick turned to O’Hara.
“By the way, you mentioned something in my library about being locked up in a subterranean cavern. You said something about a safe being there, filled with documents of all kinds. Do you know how to reach it?”
“Yes,” replied O’Hara. “It is right under that big gasoline tank over there. There’s a secret trap-door, but Brown and his tools here are the only ones who know how to work the combination.”
Glancing at the three captives, Mr. Southwick’s eyes fell on the little Jap chauffeur.
“Come here, Togo,” he commanded.
The Jap obeyed with alacrity.
“I want you to show these men how to open that door. Understand?”
The little yellow man instantly donned a servile maimer, as though he realized that the overlordship of Brown was over, and new masters must, now be served.
Leading the way to the tank, he descended into the huge hollow, closely followed by O’Hara and two of the other men.
After they had made their way to the farther end of the tank, the Jap suddenly stooped and touched something that seemed to be one of the rivets that held the giant steel tank together. Instantly the steel walls moved as 0 ‘Hara had seen them do earlier, and the aperture leading to the cave opened up directly in front of them. The men marvelled at the ingenuity which had devised this hidden retreat.
O’ Hara was the first to file through the opening and descend into the depths of the cave.
“You next!” said one of the detectives to the Jap, as the latter was edging to one side.
The oriental obeyed without a word, followed by the two detectives.
It was several minutes before the men were able to make out their surroundings in the dim light of the gloomy interior.
After O’Hara had ushered the men over the cave, and had shown them the huge concrete emplacement rising to a height of fully twenty feet, he led the way to the bulky safe which stood in the same position as before.
“Get to work, Jo, and open this up!” commanded 0 ‘Hara.
The Jap was at the side of the safe and turning the dial almost before the command was given. Finally, with a vigorous pull, the huge steel doors were forced out, and the interior of the safe was revealed.
Empty! Not a sheet of paper remained.
“They’ve stolen a march on us!” exclaimed one of the detectives in a disappointed tone.
“I’m not so sure of that,” said O’Hara.
He cast a look in the direction of the Jap, who stood by, as silent and inscrutable as the race from which he sprang.
“Where are all the papers that were here, Jo? You might as well tell us.”
“Papers?” he questioned, blankly.
“Yes, papers,” countered 0 ‘Hara. “The same papers that were here when y
ou came down into the cave with that Irish detective from the city. Don’t you remember?”
Did the Jap’s eyes suddenly turn downward under O’Hara’s steady scrutiny? It was hard to tell in the gloom of the cave, but he uttered a quick “Yes, yes!” of dismay, and said in liquid tones: “Papers! Yes, I know. Papers in Mr. Brown’s automobile. You find them in box. Mr. Brown take away.”
0 ‘Hara turned to the detectives.
“This doesn’t surprise me, boys,” he said. “We’ve already got our hands on those papers. Before you arrived on the scene, we took a whole chestful of them from Brown’s machine, and put them in Mr. Southwick’s car. I felt pretty sure then that there wouldn’t be anything here for us when we came. What do you say about going back?”
“I’m ready!”
“Me, too!”
They filed from the cave in the order in which they entered, O’Hara opening and closing the entrance several times by pressing the neatly camouflaged button.
On reaching open air, the party rejoined Mr. Southwick’s forces which were still beside the bungalow.
The big man’s only comment, as O’Hara reported the result of the trip, was, “Just as I thought.”
Preparations were busily under way for the return to the city. The search of the ranch had been completed, and at Mr. Southwick’s order, the huge touring car of Brown had been mended and placed in readiness. In the tonneau of the car sat the crestfallen owner, and beside him was Tom Whalen. To prevent any attempt at escape, the two were handcuffed together, and an armed guard was placed over them.
The Jap was ordered into the front seat of the machine, and beside him was seated a second detective.
It was a tired group of men who raced over the long desert road to Albuquerque on the return journey. The early morning sun was beating down from the east, and the intense heat of the desert was making itself felt over the refreshing coolness of the night.
Mr. Southwick’s car led off, and was followed by Brown’s machine, which was carefully watched by the occupants of “Queenie,” the next one in line. One of Mr. Southwick’s lieutenants brought up the rear of the procession.
Early morning pedestrians on the streets of the thriving little town glanced curiously at the row of machines, and wondered at their presence at that hour. They would have been still more surprised had they seen the four machines draw up a few minutes later in front of the county jail. Luckily, the street on which this stood was still deserted.
After the captives were safely lodged behind bars, the raiding party separated in all directions. Mr. Southwick walked over to Danny and O’Hara, and slapping them on the back, said:
“We are greatly indebted to you two men. As one loyal American to another, I want to thank the both of you from the bottom of my heart. You have done your country a great service — greater, perhaps, than you know. Good luck to you, and I hope I may call on you later when we bring Brown and his assistants to trial.”
“You surely can, Mr. Southwick!” answered Danny.
As 0 ‘Hara shook hands with the famous official, the latter said, kindly:
“There may come a time when I can be of some help to you, Mr. O’Hara. If so, do not hesitate to call on me. You have my promise.”
“Many thanks!” answered the other.
And as the towering figure entered his machine, O’Hara turned to his nephew and said:
“Danny, do you think he knows who I am?”
“I think so, Uncle Jim. I have felt that right along,” replied the young man.
O ‘Hara sighed, and continued:
“I wonder what Mr. Southwick meant about helping me!”
“I don’t know,” responded Danny, “but I do know that Mr. Southwick appreciates what you have done. He is the kind of man who doesn’t say much, but I know he attaches the greatest importance to the raid we have just been through. You’ll have to admit, Uncle Jim, you were responsible for that!”
“It was little that I did,” answered O’Hara. “Nonsense!” exclaimed the young man. “You were behind the whole thing. We couldn’t have proven anything without that bundle of papers. Mr. Southwick knows that. The capture of Brown will be a big feather in his cap when the news reaches Washington, and he’s bound to give you full credit. No, Uncle Jim,” continued Danny, “I don’t think you need fear anything more. It looks like smooth sailing to me from now on.”
“Do you really think so?” In O’Hara’s voice there was a note of yearning that did not escape the younger man.
“Yes, Uncle Jim. Now, don’t worry!” he encouraged. “We’ve made a good friend. Mr. Southwick means what he says. I am sure our troubles are just about over.”
As the two men motored slowly through the streets in the direction of the hotel, a share of Danny’s optimism entered the heart of the older man, and a smile of childlike happiness stole over his saddened face.
CHAPTER XXVII
ON THE BALCONY
Early the next morning Mary Louise was aroused by a tapping at her door, and Josie burst into the room, followed by Irene, who came more slowly on her crutches.
“We just had to wake you up, Mary Louise,” cried Josie, “to tell you the exciting news. They sent out officers to arrest those Browns. They found his name was Heinrich Braun, and he’s a German up from Mexico. Who could imagine such a thing!”
Mary Louise leaned back on her pillows, and her eyes looked very large and lovely with their violet shadows.
“Josie,” she said, “I’ve got a confession to make to you.”
“I’ll bet it isn’t very serious,” laughed the girl.
“Irene, oh, Irene!” Mary Louise called out. “You stay and hear it, too!” The well-bred girl was almost outside the door before Mary Louise’s voice halted her.
Then, as the two girls sat on the side of her bed, Mary Louise told them the story of James 0 — ’Hara — the kindly, courageous uncle of Danny Dexter. She told them of the terrible mistake he bad once made — a mistake atoned for time and again. She told how O’Hara happened to be on the Brown ranch and how he discovered its dangerous character. And lastly, she told of the amazing events of the previous evening, expatiating at length on the heroic part that O’Hara played in them.
When she had finished her recital, Josie burst out:
“Oh, Mary Louise, why didn’t you let me know about O’Hara sooner? I would never have caused him so much trouble.”
“Well,” said Mary Louise, “he had not proven his mettle at that time, and that makes a great difference, doesn’t it? But you see how everything has turned out for the best.”
As Josie sat on the bed, still almost unable to comprehend the amazing turn that events had taken, Mary Louise turned to her and said softly: “Josie, dear, don’t you think it would be possible for O ‘Hara to arrange to repay that Boston bank in the near future, and go free in the meantime? I think he deserves the most considerate treatment.’’
“I do, too!” spoke up Irene, whose admiring gaze had not shifted from Mary Louise since the latter started her narrative.
Mary Louise cast a look of gratitude on the sweet-faced girl, as Josie reflected in silence for a moment.
“Such things are done now and then,” said Josie quietly, “but only in the most extraordinary cases.”
“But this case is extraordinary!” urged Mary Louise. “Why, Josie, just think of the heroic way he managed to escape from the ranch! Even now, he is in danger of arrest because he chose to be loyal under the most difficult conditions! Could a man be anything but worthy who thinks more of his country than his own personal safety?”
Mary Louise was about to say more in behalf of Danny’s uncle when Josie placed her hand on the girl’s arm.
“There’s no need to argue O’Hara’s case further, dear,” she said. “I agree with you.
O’Hara is a real American, and I promise to help him in every way I can.”
“I’m so glad!” sighed Mary Louise, and she lay back on her pillows.
; “And I am, too!” added Irene, whose tender heart had been deeply touched by Mary Louise’s recital of O’Hara’s story.
“Then, we’re unanimous!” smiled Josie, and added, good-naturedly: “Have you noticed that it’s always unanimous when Mary Louise sets her heart on a thing?”
Mary Louise laughed lightly.
“Oh, Josie, how you exaggerate!” she said.
“Girls! Girls!” exclaimed Irene. “Here we are exchanging pleasantries, and we haven’t yet decided how we are going to help Danny’s uncle!”
Irene was the most practical-minded of all of Mary Louise’s girl friends, and she was never so happy as when planning some kind deed for others.
“What would you suggest, Josie?” asked Mary Louise, after a little silence had fallen on the group.
“Well,” said the girl slowly, “I think my best plan would be to get in touch with dad. He is still in Washington; at least he was there when I — left several weeks ago. I might wire him about the case, and tell him to have Crocker patch things up with the Boston bank. I am sure dad would do it for me. What do you think of the idea?”
“Just the thing!” exclaimed Mary Louise, enthusiastically. “Your father is the very man! Oh, Josie, how can I ever thank you! I know Danny would like to hear about the plan, too. Won’t you see him and tell him about it? He can tell you more about his uncle than I ever could.”
“That’s what I’ll do,” said Josie, decisively. “I’ll get O’Hara’s whole story from Danny, and then I’ll wire it to dad. Father will receive it this afternoon, and we should receive an answer from him not later than to-morrow night.”
“That will be splendid!” said Mary Louise. “Yes,” echoed Irene, “and just think of the happiness it will give Danny’s uncle to know that he is free once more to retrieve himself in the eyes of the world!”
Mary Louise smiled a glad smile, and thought to herself that Danny, too, would be overjoyed at the news, but she did not give her thought utterance. An unaccountable shyness came over her when she thought of Danny and the delightful night ride of the evening before.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 637
