Chapter 13
CHAPTER X.
THE END OF WIN KEE.
= UMPHREY VERNEY!” exclaimed a voice close by. “Where in all the world have you come from ?”
For a moment I lay too dazed and breathless to reply ; then picking myself up slowly I found In- spector Melvin standing before me.
“Where on earth have you been?” he repeated, gazing inquiringly from me to the hole in the ground. “You look as if you had been down a coal mine. Your hands are all scratched and bleeding too. Any- thing wrong, eh ?”
What with the excitement and the earth I had swallowed, I could only splutter something about “Nora” and “burglar,” pointing vaguely in the direction of Cliffden; but my companion’s keen mind at once grasped the fact that there was something badly amiss, and he prepared to take instant action.
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“Steady,” he said quickly, pocketing his pipe. “Wait till you’ve got your breath, and then tell me the whole story. Now.”
“The tunnel,” I jerked out. “I got into it, and went—a long way—to the cliffs. The burglar nearly caught me. He went up a stone stair, and—Nora screamed. Save her!”
An eager light flashed into the detective’s eyes, and he gripped my arm.
“Do you mean to tell me that is an underground passage you have just come out of ?”
“Yes. It leads to a cave high up in the cliffs. I found this letter there.”
He took the piece of paper I held out, and glanced hastily at the mysterious message.
“ John Hare!” he exclaimed suddenly. “I thought the figure was familiar somehow. We must act at once.”
“Yes, yes, come on,” I cried, taking a step for- ward.
“One minute,” he replied, speaking rapidly. “The bird has flown. Ten minutes ago he came out of the house and hurried off towards the village. He may have companions. If you will run and warn
Bobby—”
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“J won't,’ I cried impatiently, breaking from my companion’s grasp. “I must find Nora.”
“Come on, then,” was the only comment, and we set off running towards Cliffden.
Our goal was no great distance away, and in spite of the difficult going we soon reached the garden and scrambled through the hedge.
Here we called a halt to make a survey of our surroundings, but as there was no sign of any move- ment in the house we moved forward again.
Creeping round behind some rose bushes, we gained the front of the building, and made a dash for the door. Once inside, the detective signed to me to be silent, and for several minutes we stood motionless, listening for the slightest sound. Once my com- panion bent forward his head, and I thought that his trained ear had detected some slight move- ment.
“T’ve a mind to give a call,” he said, turning to me at last. “Be ready. Hullo, there!”
At the sound of his voice I braced myself ready to dash forward on the instant, expecting to hear an answering cry from Nora. But none came. The echoes reverberated down the hall and up the stair-
way and then died away. Silence fell again, and
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I could hear my heart beating loudly as excitement grew with the fleeting seconds,
“That is strange,” muttered the inspector with a puzzled look. “Come, we had better make a search at once.”
“You don’t think—” I began, a sudden fear coming over me at his words.
“No, no,” he interrupted hastily; “you will find your little friend all right, only— Ha! did you hear anything ?”
He paused with his hand on the door of the first room on the right, his head craned forward, an alert look on his face. In the tense silence which followed, the ticking of the great clock at the other end of the hall was distinetly audible. Tick, tock, tick, tock, swung the pendulum with its monotonous rhythm, but not another sound broke the stillness. The strain was beginning to tell on my nerves; my heart was thumping as if it had just finished running _ & race,
“T heard something,” whispered my companion, “but can’t locate the sound. Stand clear; I’m going in here.”
Turning the handle noiselessly as he spoke, he
flung the door open, springing to the side with a
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quick movement. But his precautions were un- necessary; the room was empty. After a swilt glance round the inspector was about to retire, when his eye lighted on something, and he gave a start.
“ Hullo!” he exclaimed, “what does this mean?”
Stepping forward I followed the direction of his gaze, and perceived an overturned vase of flowers lying on the floor. The water had trickled over the carpet, and could not have been long spilt, for it lay in a small pool as though there had been no time for it to sink into the soft pile.
“ Where can the colonel be?” muttered the inspec- tor. “I don’t half like the look of this.”
He took a step forward towards the vase, but even as he did so I gripped his arm.
“Look,” I cried, “under that curtain. There's a man’s foot sticking out!”
I felt the muscles under my grasp grow hard and rigid as my companion took in the situation, and next instant something bright flashed in his hand. Even in that moment of intense excitement I realized that here, at least, Frank was right. Inspector Melvin did carry a revolver. Gathering himself together, with a sudden movement he flung himself towards the
curtain, and dashing it aside levelled his weapon.
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“Don’t move, or— Ah!”
He stopped short with a sudden quick intaking of his breath, and then as he stepped aside I saw that a man lay huddled in an armchair, with his head fallen forward on his breast.
“The colonel! It must be Colonel Leighton,” exclaimed the detective, and with dexterous fingers he loosened the collar and laid his hand over the heart of the silent figure.
“Ts he—is he dead?” I whispered in an awed voice, gazing with horror at the tragic scene.
“No; the heart still beats, though feebly. He is only unconscious. I can’t make it out; it must be shock. ‘There is no sign of violence, and yet— Look! What is that he has got in his hand?”
“A chain—Nora’s gold chain. Oh, where can she be?”
“That is what we must find out—and at once. We can do nothing here for the present. There is something about this I don’t understand. Come, let’s search the house.”
He turned to leave the room, the revolver still in his hand; but as he reached the door there came a low muftled cry that sent my heart into my
mouth.
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“There it is again,” said the detective, “only louder this time. Where does it come from?”
‘“‘ Downstairs,” I answered, trembling. “‘ It sounded from just underneath us.”
Without another word the detective dashed into the hall, and I followed him. There was no attempt at concealment now, and we shouted as we ran. Two rooms which we entered proved to be empty, but as we flung open a third door, revealing a descending flight of stone stairs, the muffled cry came wailing up to us again.
’
“You are right—it is downstairs,” ejaculated my companion, tearing down the stone steps.
Below, the light was dim and uncertain; but guided by a renewal of the cry, we sped down the narrow passage and burst open a door on the left.
“Nora te
With a bound I was across the room. She was lying on the floor by the fireplace, her arms and legs tightly tied and a napkin fastened over her mouth, Her eyes, wild with terror and pain, seemed starting from her head, and the piteous look on her white face went to my heart as I knelt by her side. In a trice the cords which bound her were cut, and the
gag removed from her mouth. Stiff and cramped
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by lying on the stone floor, Nora was hardly able to move a muscle; but we helped her up on to a chair, and then she burst out into hysterical weeping.
“That will do her a lot of good,” said the inspector, while I stood by looking on in affright. ‘‘ Once she has had a good cry she will feel relieved, and we must take her home at once. The sooner we are on the track of that scoundrel the better.”
“ But the colonel?” I objected.
“T shall see to him before we go. Ah! I thought so. Do you see that press over yonder? I expect that is where your friend the burglar entered from the tunnel. Il just make sure.”
He stepped into the press, and I heard him groping about as if feeling for something, and next moment he gave a cry of triumph.
“Tve got it,” he exclaimed. “A child could work the stone from this side. Look here.”
I heard him pull up what sounded like a trapdoor, and, my curiosity excited, I was about to follow and find out what he was after, when Nora looked up.
“Humphrey, don’t leave me. Stay with me,” she cried in piteous accents ; and seizing my hand in hers, she clung to me convulsively while her sobs broke
out afresh.
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“That's the entrance right enough, just as I ex- pected,” said the detective with satisfaction, coming back into the kitchen; and then turning to Nora he continued more gently, “Come along, missy; we'll take you home to your mother.”
“Oh yes, take me home,” sobbed Nora; and with some difficulty we helped her up the stairs, for she was still very stiff and trembled violently.
When we came opposite the drawing-room door the detective signed to me to go on while he slipped into the room. Luckily Nora was too much agitated to remember about the colonel, and the inspector soon rejoined us. He offered to carry Nora, being anxious to hurry as fast as possible; but this she wouldn’t listen to, and clung to me all the closer. How that short distance to Ivy Cottage was accomplished I do not remember. I have a confused recollection of listening to incoherent outbursts from Nora about “burglars”? and ‘‘ Win Kee,” a distinct impression of the astonishment on the faces of two tramps on the road, and then we were in the house, and Frank was pouring out a torrent of excited queries, while Martha, the cook, was attending to Nora and sooth- ing her on her motherly bosom.
“Now, then,” said the inspector sharply, cutting
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short Frank’s stream of questions, “there is plenty to do and little time to waste. Master Frank, you must go off on your bicycle at once and find your father. Tell him that your sister is all right, but that Colonel Leighton is lying unconscious in his own house.”
“But, but—” began Frank. ,.
“Off you go,” repeated thle inspector. “You'll hear all about it afterwards. Remember that the colonel’s life is hanging in the balance.”
Then as Frank reluctantly obeyed his commands he turned to me.
“TI must be off. Now listen. I am going to enter the underground tunnel where you came out and follow it inland. I am almost sure that it will lead to Fareham Castle, whence the burglar is certain to have made his way.”
“Fareham Castle!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, Now I know there must be a secret entrance to this tunnel from the turret old Peter showed you in the castle, though as yet I have been unable to find it. Run down and get Bobby, the policeman, to go there immediately—just as fast as he can—and we have our man in a trap. Do
you understand ?”
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“Ves; I'll go at once, if—” I looked towards Nora, who was still sobbing in the cook’s arms.
“Never mind her; she’s all right now. Be sure and get Bobby to hurry. If it wasn’t such a danger- ous job, I’d ask you— Well, get Bobby to hurry. Mind, I trust you. Now Im off.”
He slipped out of the room, and a moment later I followed him. I realized that the utmost speed was necessary on our part to ensure the success of his plan, and that everything depended on reaching the turret in time. Bobby was slow and ponderous, and the burglar, warned by the approach of the detective along the tunnel, might make his escape by the turret before the trap was closed. That the game was a dangerous one I recognized clearly even without the inspector’s warning; but after all, why shouldn’t I have a hand in the fun? Bobby might be late, but a mile was my favourite distance, and with a little luck—why, of course, there was Bouncer ! It took only a few seconds to release the ‘young retriever, and together we rushed off down to the village. We were in luck’s way. Bobby was just sitting down to tea with his wife when we burst into the room, and he looked up with a mild air
of surprise on his genial countenance.
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“Why, Master Humphrey, whatever have you been doing? Your face is all—”’
“Never mind that just now, Bobby; come away with me at once, please.”
“Indeed, and he’ll do no such thing, begging your pardon,” replied his wife sharply. ‘‘ He’s just this moment in, and—”’
“Well, well, Maria,” said Bobby soothingly, “Jet me hear what the young gentleman wants. Perhaps—”
“It’s the detective,’ I blurted out impatiently. “He told me to say you were to hurry just as fast as possible and come with me.”
“Ah! the detective.’ Bobby’s face changed at the name, and rising he picked up his helmet.— “T must go, Maria. Duty first, tea afterwards.”
He gave his wife a resounding kiss, and followed me out of the room.
“The keys,’’ I said—‘‘bring the keys of the castle.”
He picked up a huge bunch, and we set off on our errand. In a few hasty words I described to my companion what was expected of us, and he responded gallantly to the call. When hardly half of the distance had been covered, however, his breath
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began to fail, and he was forced to halt and mop his perspiring brow. Gazing anxiously into his face, I realized that no more could be expected from one of his build, and on the instant my resolution was taken.
““Come on as fast as you can, Bobby; Ill go ahead,” and with a call to Bouncer I set off running at full speed.
Melvin’s words kept ringing in my brain, “‘I trust you,’ and the words fitted themselves into the swing of my stride. He would not find his trust misplaced if 1 could help it, but what was about to happen I could not imagine. Events had moved so rapidly that my thoughts were all in a whirl, and the true significance of all that had occurred had not yet struck me. At the time I had been too much taken up with Nora’s plight to notice anything else, but now her remarks about Win Kee came back to my mind and set me wondering. What was it she had kept repeating about him, and how was it we had not come across him? Melvin had said something about a man leaving Cliffden and making for the vil- lage, but I had understood him to refer to the burglar.
My arrival at the lodge gates cut short the train of thought, but soon I had scaled the low wall, helped
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Bouncer over, and was speeding up the avenue. Was I in time? All seemed quiet as I pulled up under the shadow of the castle and gazed up at the turret. What was to be done next? Access must be gained to the secret entrance, but how? Bobby had the keys, and he was far behind. Stay; where had Frank entered? Surely I could follow. My eye ran along the lower basement, and fell on a little square window some six feet from the ground. ‘This must be the place. Calling Bouncer to me, I lifted him up, struggling and kicking, and endeavoured to thrust him in. Twice he wriggled out of my grasp and fell backwards, but a third attempt proved more successful. The window swung inward, and the retriever disappeared with a short yelp. Retreating a few paces I took a running leap at the wall, and secured a good grip of the window-sill. Hauling myself up, I squeezed through somehow, and fell in a heap on the top of Bouncer, who was waiting on the other side. We were in. So far so good. Picking myself up, I discovered that, as Frank had said, we were in the passage leading from the gun- room, and in a few moments I had groped my way to the haunted turret.
So far the excitement of the chase had buoyed up
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my courage, but the deathly stillness of the deserted castle and the knowledge of the unseen presence of desperate criminals close at hand sent a cold chill down my back. Hastily pulling myself together, I started to make a rapid search round the bare room, glad of something to keep my mind occupied. But, as on the day of our previous visit, my efforts were in vain; not a sign could I discover of any secret entrance or trapdoor. As before, I came upon marks of candle grease, but the solid stone floor and walls seemed to mock my attempts at unravelling their secret, and at length I desisted. A feeling of pro- found thankfulness for Bouncer’s presence came over me, and calling him to my side I took up my position in the doorway, so that the whole of the bare, empty room was visible. Was it possible, as the detective had said, that there was a secret entrance leading thence to the underground passage I had discovered ? It seemed incredible, and yet— Suddenly my heart leapt violently as a muffled sound came to my ears— a pistol shot! Dull and indistinct, there was no mistaking the report. Again it rang out, and then silence succeeded. In a tremble of excitement I waited for what would happen next, and the loud
clang of an iron gate made me start nervously.
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Bobby was at hand! Already he was coming up the avenue, and the knowledge gave me confidence. But even as I heaved a sigh of relief the retriever stirred and growled, and I became conscious of a faint echo, which seemed to reach me through the ground. Bobby would be too late after all, and I must play my part alone.
Crouching down, with one hand over Bouncer’s muzzle, | waited with beating heart. The suspense was sickening. If only I knew the point to guard! The seconds passed, and the ominous sounds drew nearer. Surely Bobby must be close at hand. I felt the retriever grow tense and rigid under my hand, and my jaw dropped as my gaze lighted on the wall opposite. Slowly, noiselessly, moved by some unseen agency, one of the great slabs of stone revolved backwards out of sight, and a man’s hand appeared at the aperture. As he stretched forth an arm to draw himself through, a slight movement on my part caused him to look up, and—I found myself face to face with Chew Win Kee! For a moment we stared in silence, both too surprised to utter a sound, and then with a growl Bouncer sprang forward at his enemy. With a quick movement Win Kee drew
back as though to retire, but a loud shout and the (1,471) 12
i
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noise of a desperate struggle going on below warned him that his retreat was cut off. Quick as lightning he turned again, his evil face aglow with hate and passion.
“Call off the dog, you young fool,” he snarled, “ or—”
His threat was cut short by a furious attack from Bouncer, who, hair on end, leapt at his throat. Taken at a disadvantage, Win Kee could do little more than guard himself, but I realized that once he gained a footing in the turret we should speedily be over- powered. Even as I looked a long, cruel knife flashed in his right hand, while he steadied himself for a deadly blow. Time was on our side, but Bouncer was quite out of control, and hurled himself recklessly on his human foe. A quick thrust, a yelp of pain, and he was flung back, bleeding from an ugly wound. But Win Kee had overreached himself. With a shout of, “Bobby, help!” I seized his out- stretched hand, and endeavoured to wrest the drip- ping knife. For an instant his advance was stayed, but a sudden jerk threw me off my feet, and a _ moment later he had crawled through the wall, and was bending over me, a savage gleam in his cruel eyes.
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“Curse you, I’ve got you at last!” he hissed, and wrenching his arm free he prepared to strike.
A rush, the sound of a heavy blow, and then for a space a wild struggle seemed to be taking place above my prostrate body. I had a confused know- ledge of whirling arms and legs, threats and curses resounded in my ears, and Bouncer’s angry growl added to the din. The scuffling gradually ceased, and only the heavy breathing of spent men broke the stiliness of the lonely turret. A heavy weight was lifted off my chest, and Bobby’s red, perspiring face loomed distinct out of the past confusion.
“Youre not hurt, Master Humphrey ?” he panted anxiously.
“No,” I replied doubtfully, struggling to my fect, “Tm all right. But did you catch Win Kee?”
“The colonel’s Chinaman? JI never saw him,” returned the policeman. “This here fellow was handful enough.”
He pointed to a figure lying prone and handcuffed on the floor.
“But that’s Win Kee,” I cried excitedly. “It was he who hurt Bouncer and was going to stab me.”
Bobby gazed at me for a moment, as though fear-
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ing that my wits were wandering ; then stooping, he gazed into the prisoner’s face.
“T do believe you're right,” he said slowly at last. “ But where’s his pigtail, and how—”
“JT don’t know. I never thought of that. When- ever his face appeared I recognized him, and so did Bouncer.—Bouncer, good dog, are you badly hurt?” I broke off as the retriever came up to me.
“There’s little wrong with him,” said Bobby con- fidently—“ only a scratch in the shoulder. The knife must have glanced off his collar. But Win Kee, to think of that now!”
Further speculation was cut short by a hail from somewhere below, which startled us both considerably.
“The inspector,” I cried, pointing to the secret entrance. “He’s down there. I heard pistol shots. He wants help.”
“Bobby, Humphrey, ahoy !”
“Coming!” I shouted, and with Bouncer at my heels I crawled through the gap in the wall.
