A Woman at Bay: or, A Fiend in Skirts

"And don't you know that Nick Carter has got still another assistant, and that his other assistant is named Patsy? Haven't you heard of that? It is true. And so is this fellow's name Pat – or Patsy. It is all the same.

"Now, again, didn't they come here together? Didn't Handsome find them camping in the woods, waiting for a chance to get to our camp, and didn't this fellow tell him the first one of the bunch that he was looking for Hobo Harry, the Beggar King – and ain't Hobo Harry and Black Madge one and the same? I tell you, there ain't any doubt that the man is a spy, and that he ought to be hanged.

"Now, do you guns remember what happened the night of the fire, the time when Nick Carter got away with Madge, and took her to jail? I'll remind you of it. Don't you remember that when we found the other two out, they were sent to the quicksand pit? I was one of those who helped to throw them into the quicksand pit. Did you ever hear of anybody's getting out of that pit alive? I never did until that incident; but I have found out since that both those assistants, Chick and Ten-Ichi, are alive and kicking, down in New York, this very day.

"Well, who got 'em out of that quicksand pit, then? Why, this fellow! That is where he was, and what he was doing while we were fighting the fire, and don't you forget it! We was all too busy to remember about the men we had chucked into the sand; but he didn't forget. For why? Because he was one of them himself, and because he had determined all along to go to that pit as soon as ever he could, and get them out of it.

"How'd he get 'em out, you ask? I don't know. I only know that he did get 'em out somehow, for they are out. I know that for certain."

Nick, in the character of Turner, leaped to his feet.

"I object!" he cried out. "This man ain't tryin' this case fair. I don't know who he is, and I don't keer a cuss; I only know that you app'inted me to defend him, and I'm a-goin' to do it till you tell me to stop. I object, ma'am, to the course he is adoptin'. It ain't fair. He's making a lot of statements the which he ain't got a shadow of proof about. I don't know anything about that air fire he speaks about, 'ceptin' what I've heerd down at Calamont. But we ain't got the fire here as a witness; and we ain't got the quicksand here as a witness; and we ain't got the two men as he says was saved from it here as witnesses. And unless he can produce witnesses to testify to what he says about them air escapes, I move that the hull speech he made be strucken out, your honor. Let him call his witnesses to the stand, and swear 'em, or swear at 'em. Let him do suthin, 'cept standing up there and shootin' off his mouth."

Madge smiled grimly. She was getting more enjoyment out of this affair than she had anticipated.

"Call your witnesses, Mike," she said.

"I ain't got none, Madge, to swear to what I have said, but every one here knows it is the solemn truth. I don't need no witnesses. However, I'll put Handsome on the stand fur a minute, about the way the bunch arrived at our camp, if you say so."

"I think it would be a good idea. It would be more regular."

"All right, Madge. Handsome, take the stand. Hold up your right hand, and swear that you'll tell the truth. That's all right. Now, did you hear what I said about your findin' that outfit in the woods north of the track?"

"I did."

"Wasn't it the dead-level truth?"

"It was."

"The hull four was there, warn't they?"

"They were."

"And they was all strangers?"

"They were."

"You never seen any one of them afore that time, had you?"

"Never."

"And, later, wasn't it found out that three of 'em were spies?"

"It was."

"And wasn't one of the spies Nick Carter himself?"

"Yes."

"And weren't the other two his assistants?"

"They were."

"Didn't they confess it?"

"They did."

"And weren't they afterward thrown into the quicksand pit to die?"

"They were."

"Did they die there?"

"I don't think they did."

"Don't you know that they escaped?"

"I'm reasonably certain of it."

"How did they escape?"

"I don't know that."

"Isn't it your opinion that this galoot here – "

"I object!" shouted Nick.

"Oh, well," exclaimed Mike, in disgust, "ask him some questions yourself, then."

"I will. Handsome, when did you first see them four in the woods north o' the track?"

"Oh, I don't know. Before dark that night."

"Was they together?"

"Part of the time."

"Only part o' the time? What do you mean by that?"

"They didn't come there together."

"Oh, didn't they? Where was you?"

"I was hiding, and watching them."

"So you saw 'em all when they arrived there, did you?"

"Yes."

"Who got there first?"

"This man – Pat."

"Did the others appear to know him?"

"No; but they didn't appear to know each other, either."

"But if they were spies, and you afterward proved that they were, and if they got there, and found Pat already there, it would be natural that they should act as if they didn't know each other, wouldn't it, in order to deceive him?"

"I suppose so."

"Have you ever seen anything suspicious about the prisoner?"

"No; only his disappearance after the fire and the arrest of Madge."

"P'r'aps he kin explain that."

"He can't. He has tried already. You heard him. I don't call that an explanation, but it is probably the best he can give."

"Would you be afraid to trust him now?"

"Personally? I don't think I would."

"Then, personally, you don't think that he is a spy?"

"No; but I don't know that he isn't."

"That'll do. I don't want to ask you any more questions." He turned to Cremation Mike. "Have you got any more witnesses?" he asked.

"No," with a grin. "I don't need no more."

"Maybe not. But I've got one witness."

"Oh! Have you. Who is it?"

"I'm going to put the prisoner on the stand."

But Madge was plainly tired of the amusement already. She rose in her place, and her eyes were flashing darkly.

"We will stop this farce here and now," she said. "It won't do any good, anyhow. I can see plainly enough that there are some here who believe he is a spy. I am a good deal of that opinion myself; and as there is a doubt in my mind, I'll just settle the thing right now. Jury, you can find the man guilty. That's what he is, probably."

"Guilty," said the jury, with one voice, and grinning.

"Prisoner," continued Madge, "you have got until to-morrow morning, at nine o'clock, to live. At that time the boys will take you to some convenient tree, and hang you by the neck until you're dead – and that settles it."

Things looked dark for Patsy. It was quite evident that Black Madge was in deadly earnest in what she had said. One life more or less was absolutely nothing to her, and if there was the breath of a suspicion against one, it was, from her standpoint, better to put that one out of the way at once than to run any sort of risk by permitting him to live.

Nor did the hoboes who had gathered there to hear and to witness the trial hesitate to voice their sentiments about it by loud cheering when Madge uttered the sentence of death. It would be a hanging, indeed, and it did not make much difference to them who was hung. It has been said before that they were much like wild beasts, or dogs, who are without any quality of compassion.

When Nick walked away from the scene of the trial near the fire, he found that Handsome was beside him, and then, before either uttered a word, Madge joined them.

She was smiling as if she were well pleased with her evening's work, and she said to the detective:

"You did well, Turner. One would suppose that you had at some time been a lawyer."

"I'd 'a' got the man free if I'd had a fair judge and jury," replied Nick boldly, stroking the white whiskers he wore.

Madge frowned. Then she laughed aloud.

"I like you for your boldness," she said. "But have a care that you do not find yourself suddenly in the same predicament, Turner."

"I'd be inclined to shoot myself afore I came to trial, if I should," Nick retorted.

They had reached Madge's cabin by this time, and now they mounted to the porch, and Nick pulled out an old pipe that Turner had given him, filled it, and lighted it.

The detective was determined in his own mind that before the dawn of another day he would find some way to save Patsy; but how it was to be done he had no idea.

He did not know yet what disposition they intended to make of him. For all he knew they might send him into one of the cabins and lock him up for the night. But he did know that unless he acted, Patsy would be murdered at sunrise the following morning, and he did not intend to permit that to happen.

"Miss Madge," he said, after a pause, during which he had smoked in silence, "if it is all the same to you, I'd like to know what you intend to do with me to-night. I'm an old man, and I'm sorter 'customed to going to bed rayther early, so, if you don't mind, and you'll tell me where I'm to sleep, I think I'll turn in."

Instead of replying directly to him, Madge turned to Handsome.

"What shall we do with him?" she asked. "You are responsible for his being here. I think I will turn him over to you."

"All right," said Handsome, rising. "I'll take him to my own cabin. He'll be safe enough there. I'll be back in a minute, Madge."

Nick followed him across the floor of the little valley to a hut that was at the opposite side of it, and close to the cliff – and Nick knew at once, from his recollection of the plan he had studied, that he was quite near to the entrance to the cavern.

The cabin consisted of only one room, in which two bunks had been roughly built, and, after lighting a candle, Handsome indicated one of these, and said:

"You can sleep there, Turner. Turn in when you like. To-morrow we will explore the caves together."

"Right you are," said Nick, yawning widely. "I shan't need any rocking this night. My old legs are tired out for sure."

Two minutes after the departure of Handsome, Nick blew out the candle, and for a time he stretched himself in the bunk, lest Handsome should return to see that all was right. But it was speedily evident to the detective that Handsome had no suspicion whatever of him, and had, therefore, left him to his own devices.

But Nick knew that it could not be very long before the outlaw would return to seek his own rest and repose, and that he must, therefore, determine upon what he was to do before he should return.

Ten minutes he lay there, and then he rose slowly and cautiously from the bunk and crept to the door which had been left open, and peered out.

The fires were still blazing merrily, and many of the men were gathered around them. Some of the men were playing cards, and the others were engaged in various ways. At all events, they one and all seemed to have forgotten his existence, and that was what he chiefly desired.

Nick knew in which cabin Patsy was a prisoner. He could see it from the doorway where he was standing, almost opposite him at the other side of the valley. The distance in feet from his own position was about the distance of a city block – two hundred feet.

The old silver watch, the size of a turnip, which Turner had carried forty years or more, was in his pocket, and by the light of the stars Nick managed to see the time – ten o'clock.

"There is no time like the present," he mused to himself, while he hesitated in the doorway. "If I wait until all is quiet, I will stand all the more chance of being discovered; and, besides, it won't be long until Handsome returns here, and after he has come and crawled into his bunk it will be next to impossible for me to get out of here without rousing him – unless I should drug him, and that will not do at all. Handsome is altogether too fly for that. He would know that he had been drugged.

"Now, if it wasn't for these white whiskers, I could creep around the edge of the bottom of the cliff to the cabin where Patsy is, without being noticed; and I dare not take them off – "

He stopped there. There was absolutely no use in conjecturing upon the "ifs" of the question, and so, after another moment, during which he studied the lay of the land intently, he slipped noiselessly out at the door and around behind the cabin, and from there crept on his hands and knees to the bottom of the cliffs. And there he discovered what he had been unable to see in the imperfect light. The grass there was quite tall, where it had not been trampled by the feet of the motley crew that infested the place, and he found that by lying at full length and pulling himself slowly along on his stomach he would be able to conceal himself almost entirely from view.

Nick made that half circle of the small valley, crawling in that way, and entirely without being discovered; and in that manner he arrived directly in the rear of the cabin where Patsy was a prisoner.

But here a new difficulty confronted him. There was a guard in front of the door, and that guard, strangely enough, was Cremation Mike.

The cabin in which Patsy was a prisoner was built of roughly hewn logs, the crevices and chinks being stopped with mud and clay. The ground beneath it was hard – rocky, in fact; so there was no possibility of digging under the logs without tools to do it, and even then it would have taken too much time to accomplish it.

Nick turned his attention to Cremation Mike. He was seated upon a convenient stump, smoking a short pipe. His back was toward the door of the cabin, and he was about ten feet from it. The door itself had been fastened by passing a freshly cut sapling across its front, and slipping either end of it into rustic slots that had been hastily fashioned for the purpose.

It was plain that there was only one way to get Patsy outside of that cabin, and that was to overcome Cremation Mike; and, having determined upon this, Nick crept forward as silently as a shadow, and so rounded the corner of the cabin, and presently came up half standing, directly behind the unsuspecting outlaw.

Nick did not wish to kill the man, but he did want to knock him out so effectually that he could not interfere in what was to follow, and therefore he had picked up a piece of round, smooth stone, which he had wrapped in his handkerchief.

And now, with this improvised weapon, he struck Cremation Mike sharply on the back of his head, with the result that Mike pitched forward, and would have fallen to the ground had not Nick managed to catch him. Then he laid him down gently upon the ground, and turning swiftly, opened the door of the cabin.

"Quick, Patsy!" he called in a sharp whisper. "It is I. Nick. Come."

Patsy, who had not been bound, it seemed, leaped to the door with a low exclamation of surprise and pleasure.

"Bully, Nick," he whispered. "I thought it was all up with me that time. And do you know, it never once occurred to me that the old man might be you. The disguise is perfect."

"Come," said Nick. "There is no time for words now. Follow me, and do exactly as I do. I want to get back to my own sleeping place before my absence is discovered, if it is possible to do so. But, first, is there any sort of a chair or stool inside that cabin?"

"Yes. A stool."

"Bring it out, if you know where to put your hand upon it."

Patsy brought it in a twinkling, and, placing it against the stump, Nick propped the senseless form of Mike upon it, so that from the front it appeared as if he were seated there quite naturally.

"He will come around presently," said Patsy, "and miss me."

"Let him. That is what I want him to do," replied Nick. "Come on, now."

He dropped upon his knees again, and, with Patsy following, they crept around through the grass again along the edge of the cliff, and at last reached the cabin from which the detective had started.

But he did not stop here. He made at once for the entrance to the cavern, which was near at hand, and passed inside, with Patsy following closely behind him; and then with his electric flash light, he led the way along the corridor of the cave – for it was his object to find that hiding place to which Turner had directed him in case he found it necessary to hide.

"Keep to the right always in that cave, no matter which way you are going," Turner had told him with emphasis, and remembering that now, while he wondered if, after all, there were two corridors to the cavern, he followed the rule, and almost on a run – for the passage was quite smooth before them – he led the way through.

They came at last to the bowlder to which Turner had referred, and Nick removed the small stone from beneath it. And then he pushed upon it as Turner had directed, with the result that the rock swung open before them, leaving an aperture through which they could easily pass.

But Nick did not enter. Instead he thrust a candle and a box of matches into Patsy's grasp, and said to him:

"Remain here until I come for you, even if you get hungry. I don't know any more about what is ahead of you than you do. I only know that you will be safe there. We have no time to talk now. I will shut this rock behind you."

Then he turned and sped away.

CHAPTER XV.

NICK'S CLEVEREST CAPTURE

Nick Carter made his way as rapidly back through the cavern as he had gone through it with Patsy; but when he arrived at the entrance he came to a stop, and then went ahead again very slowly.

He had no idea how long a time he had been gone, nor what might have happened during his absence. But when he peered out upon the valley, everything was apparently in the condition in which he had left it. If there had been any change at all, it was only that fewer of the men were gathered around the fires. Otherwise everything was the same.

And so, with all the swiftness he could muster, he crawled to the cabin which Handsome had given him to occupy, entered it cautiously, and, finding it empty, crawled into the bunk that had been allotted to him – tired, but rejoiced to think that he had succeeded so well where there had been such small chance of success.

And it so happened that he had barely laid himself down and composed himself to wait for developments, when a great cry went up, which was immediately followed by other shouts and loud curses – and Nick knew that the escape of Patsy had been discovered, and that he had returned just in time to avoid the consequences.

Almost immediately following upon the utterance of the shouts, the door of the cabin flew open, and Handsome leaped inside, his eyes ablaze, and his whole form quivering with rage – and he carried a flash light, which he threw at once into the detective's face; into the face of the man he supposed to be Bill Turner.

Nick could see that the instant the light fell upon him Handsome seemed greatly relieved; and then, before the outlaw could utter a word, Nick cried out in the voice of old Turner:

"What – what's all that row about, Handsome?" and he blinked his eyes as if he had just been awakened.

"It's lucky for you that you don't know what it's about!" was Handsome's rejoinder. "Get out of that, Turner, and come along with me."

"But, what's the matter?" demanded Nick, sliding out of the bunk. "What has happened?"

"That fellow Pat has escaped – that's what!" was the reply.

"Sho! You don't say so! Well, well, well! When did he do it?"

"I haven't found out yet. Come along. I thought at first that maybe you had had a hand in it – but I see you did not."

"What! Me?"

Every hobo that belonged to the gang had gathered in the centre of the place near where the mock trial had been held, and they were talking earnestly together. Cremation Mike, with one hand held at the back of his head, was the centre of the group – or rather of the throng.

But Handsome burst unceremoniously through the crowd and confronted Mike, Nick following at his heels.

Black Madge forced her way through it at the same time from the opposite side.

"Now, Mike," said Handsome savagely. "Tell me how this happened."

"I don't know. All that I know is, I got a crack on the head from behind. When I woke up, the bar had been ripped off the door and the bird had flown. That's all I know."

"How long ago did it happen?"

"How do I know that? Unless some one can tell how long I've been unconscious. But I'll bet my hat that it ain't ten minutes. I don't think it's three minutes. He can't be far away, and" – grinning – "he can't get away. He can't go through the pass, because the guards are there; I posted them myself; and the only way in which he could hope to get out is through the cave, and I don't believe he could find his way through there. I know that I wouldn't try it myself. I'd rather stay here and be hung."

Madge interrupted the conversation here.

"Do you think that he got out of the cabin without aid?" she asked of Mike. "Do you believe that it was he who struck you, Mike?"

"I do, Madge. I'm sure of it."

"Then, you weren't keeping good guard, that's all."

"Well, I never thought it was possible for him to get out of that cabin. It may be that I dozed. I didn't suppose I did, but – "

"But," said Madge icily, "the point is this: The boys shall not be disappointed in the hanging bee they were to hold in the morning. It is up to you, Mike, to find the prisoner. If you don't find him in time, you shall hang in his place – that's all. I mean it."

Cremation Mike's face turned to the color of chalk, for he realized that she did, indeed, mean what she said. For a moment he stood there trembling, and then he seized a lantern which one of the men was holding, and cried out:

"Come along, whoever will help me. I know that he can't have gone far. He ain't had time. I know it. Come along."

"Wait," said Handsome coolly; and he turned to Nick.

"Turner," he said, "I begin to think that it is fortunate that you came here when you did."

"I am sure of it," said Nick in reply.

"You know that cave from end to end, don't you?"

"I think I do."

"Then, you shall act as guide."

"All right. I'm ready."

But this short conversation had called the attention of Madge to the supposed old man, whom she had for the moment forgotten, and now she turned savagely upon him.

"I believe that you are at the bottom of this," she said, her eyes blazing.

Before Nick could make any reply, Handsome broke in.

"That is nonsense, Madge," he said. "I know it. As soon as there was an alarm – as soon as Mike yelled out that the prisoner had escaped, I legged it for the cabin, and I found Turner just waking up from his sleep. He had no hand in it. He couldn't."

"It's lucky for you," said Madge, still eying Nick sharply.

"Will you guide us through the cave, Turner?" demanded Handsome.

"Sure."

"Then, come on."

"Hold on a minute," said Nick. "Don't you think it would be a good idea to send some of the men to guard the other entrances? If the prisoner hasn't had time to get through the cave yet, and if he should happen to find one of the ways out on the other side, he'd run right into the arms of whoever was on the watch."

"Good!" said Handsome. "We know of two outside entrances. How many do you know about?"

"Four," replied Nick. "Four, not counting the hole under the Dog's Nose. That may be an entrance; but one man can guard that."

"Where are those entrances?"

Glibly Nick described how they might be found, using the exact language that had been used by the old man in his description of them; and after a short delay four men were sent away to each of the entrances, on a run, with instructions to remain on guard before them until they should be relieved.

"Now," said Nick, when they had gone, "we know that the prisoner can't escape. We know it's only a matter of time when he'll be caught – therefore, we needn't hurry. Don't you agree with me, Handsome? He can't get out of the cave at any of the entrances, without being captured or shot down, an', o' course, he can't come back this way without meetin' with the same fate. Ain't that right?"

"I guess it is," agreed Handsome.

"Ain't that right, Miss Madge?" asked Nick again, turning to her.

"It sounds entirely reasonable," she replied. "There has been only one mistake made from the start of this affair, and that is that Pat was not shot down when he first showed himself here. As it stands now, he has temporarily made his escape. I am satisfied, now, that he is a spy, and I commission each one of you to shoot him down without mercy, on sight. I shall go with you into the cave to search."