Rick Brant 9 Stairway to Danger

by John Blaine

  He realized that couldn’t be the answer. Soapy would have no way of knowing whether or not they were staying overnight. So far as he knew, the gang chief couldn’t possibly know whether anyone was in the building. But if the man searched, he would find them.

  Rick tried to peer through the darkness, to identify the night prowler. Scotty had good eyes. Rick ducked under the window and moved to his side. In a barely audible whisper, he asked, “What do you think? Is it Soapy or Lefty?”

  “Don’t know,” Scotty answered softly. “Let’s hope not. It’s real nice and dark. A fine night for murder, if that’s what he’s after.”

  The dark figure reached the spot at the fence opposite the corner of the building. His face was a gray blur. Again Rick strained to see details, but it was useless. It could be any of the three who had ambushed Mike.

  Whoever the man was, he was connected somehow with the boat that had landed on the amusement park beach. That meant he was one of Soapy’s men, if not Soapy himself. What was he after?

  The figure left the fence and moved to the building. The boys watched, hardly breathing. The man peered through a ground-floor window,then moved on. The boys followed him as best they could,moving from window to window silently going from room to room.

  The dark figure made a complete circuit of the building, stopping to look into every window. Then he returned to the first corner and felt for something against the wall.

  Rick wondered what he was searching for, and knew the answer a moment later. There was the gleam of a knife,then a dull sound as the man sawed through the telephone wires!

  The boys retired from the window for a hurried conference.

  “What’s he after?” Rick breathed.

  Scotty’s voice was hushed. “If you want my guess, he’s a guard. They don’t know whether anyone is here or not, and they’re not taking any chances.”

  “But he cut the phone wire! Scotty, we’ve got to get the police somehow. He’s probably one of Soapy Strade’s men, and that means Strade himself is in the amusement park!”

  “There’s only one way to get help,” Scotty said.

  Rick knew what he meant. Unless they wanted to stay trapped in the building, they had to make a run for it. And that meant getting the guard, somehow.

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  They talked in low whispers, thinking up plans and then rejecting them as unworkable.

  “I think I’ve got it,” Scotty said. “Good thing the back window is open, or it wouldn’t work. Didn’t I see some lead blocks under the bench downstairs?”

  Rick tried to remember. He thought there had been a couple of lead bars. The scientists had used some for extra counterbalances on the bulldozer arms, in order to lighten the load for the little electric motor that determined the angle of the blade. But had they used them all?

  “If there are any, they’re under the bench next to the one where we worked,” he said finally. “Want me to go see?”

  “We’ll both go,” Scotty whispered. “If we make a noise and warn him, the chances are better if we’re together. Come on.”

  They moved to the stairway,then crowded against the wall. There was less chance of a stair tread creaking that way. Even so, one stair let out a groan and Rick stiffened, sweat breaking out on him. They waited for a long moment but there was no sound from outside. Scotty nudged him and they continued to the ground floor. Scotty put his lips to Rick’s ear and whispered, “Wait.”

  Rick did so. Scotty could move better in the dark than he. He saw his pal stepping through the litter on the floor, moving carefully, then vanish under the right bench. Presently Scotty returned, as cautiously as he had gone, and he was carrying something in each hand.

  Again he put his lips to Rick’s ear.“Got two. Now get this. You stay downstairs. As soon as I leave, count to a hundred slowly. Then you go close to the window over there, the one under the upstairs window where we’ve been watching. Make a noise. Not much of a noise. Arouse his curiosity, but don’t scare him or get him excited. I want him to look in the window. I’ll do the rest.”

  Rick squeezed Scotty’s arm. He guessed what his friend was going to do. He gave him a little push.

  Scotty vanished into the darkness of the stair well. Rick began to count.

  It was the longest hundred he had ever counted. As he neared the end, he picked his way slowly through the litter on the floor, skirted the silent Tractosaur, and made his way to the window. Unless the guard had moved, he was directly on the other side of the wall.

  Rick finished his count,then scuffed his foot on the floor, forgetting he had no shoes on. He got a splinter for his trouble, but no sound. He groped around and found a block of wood. A metal case was standing near by. Ready to duck, Rick drew the edge of the block across the metal. It made a small, rasping sound.

  He waited, set to duck behind the case, but no face appeared at the window. He tried again, a little harder. The rasp set his teeth on edge. There was faint sound from the other side of the wall.

  He did it once more, and then froze as a white face looked in at the window.

  The man’s mouth opened, and Rick knew that he had seen the white blur of the boy’s face. Rick started to duck, then there was a sound like a baseball smacking into a catcher’s mitt. Scotty had dropped a lead weight. The face vanished and he heard something thud to the ground outside.

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  Scotty came down the stairs with a rush. “Got him,” he said. His voice was hushed. “Come on!”

  In bare feet they ran to the door, threw it open, and hurried around the corner of the building. The guard was lying in a crumpled heap. “Take his legs,” Scotty whispered. Rick did so, and Scotty slid his hands under the man’s armpits. They rushed him back into the building-

  “Got him dead center,” Scotty said. “First shot.” He found wire, turned the man over, and lashed his wrists behind his back. Rick felt his pulse and found it beating threadily . He was alive, but he wouldn’t take much interest in his surroundings for some time. Even in the faint light they could see that he was a stranger.

  “Now what?”Rick asked.

  “I’m going for help,” Scotty said. “There must be police cars somewhere around, or one will be coming by. Anyway, there are houses within half a mile. I’ll get to one if I don’t find the troopers, and call for help.”

  “What do I do meantime?” Rick asked. “I’d better go with you. No, I’ve a better idea. We have to assume Soapy Strade is here, but we don’t know what for, or how long he’ll stay. I don’t think anyone but Strade and his men would come at this time of night. When you get help, have the troopers notify the Coast Guard. Then if the boat takes off we’ll have some hope of picking it up. I’ll mosey around and try to spot Strade. At least I’ll be able to tell what direction he took.”

  “Good idea,” Scotty agreed. “But remember your leg won’t take much. Don’t try anything foolish. I’d stay here and you could go for the police if it wasn’t for the leg. Keep under cover. It’s a good idea to get away from the building anyway, in case Strade comes looking for his chum. Wonder if Lefty is with him?”

  They ran upstairs and got into their clothes. Then Scotty hurried off with another warning to keep under cover. Rick searched in the grass for a few moments and found the guard’s gun. He thrust it into his belt.

  It might come in handy.

  A thought struck him. It might come in very handy indeed! With the pistol, he could hold the gangster at bay, if necessary, until help came. He didn’t try to kid himself that he could win a gun fight with Strade.

  But he knew that a shot or two from ambush would at least slow him up.

  There was only one way to find out if Soapy was in the park, and that was to take a look. No real danger in it, he assured himself.Not very much, anyway. The gangster would feel secure, knowing that a guard had been posted on the project building, the only building around. Besides, Rick had the cover of darkness, and he knew how to use it.

  CHAPTER XV
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br />   Stairway to Danger

  There was one possibility Rick had overlooked, as he suddenly realized. If the guard came to, he might Page 74

  yell for help and tip Soapy Strade off that something was wrong.

  Rick went back into the building, found a piece of rope, took his handkerchief, and stuffed it into the guard’s mouth. With the rope around his head and across his mouth he wouldn’t be able to spit out the gag.

  That done, Rick hesitated.Which way to go? He debated going over the fence. He could get to the top by rolling a trash can into place for a footrest. But that would mean jumping to the ground on the other side. His leg wouldn’t take it without opening up again. That left the hinged board in the fence.

  He glanced at his watch. It seemed as though hours had passed since the boat had grounded on the sand, but the luminous hands told him that less than fifteen minutes had elapsed. He and Scotty had moved fast.

  There was no way of telling what Soapy wanted at the amusementpark, or how long he would stay.

  Better get going.

  He went along the fence, ears attuned for any unexpected sound, eyes searching the darkness for movement. He rounded the corner of the fence and moved slowly toward the hinged board, more cautious than ever in case someone should come through the fence unexpectedly.

  He reached the hinged board,then stiffened suddenly as a strangled yell sounded from the direction of the parking area.

  Scotty!

  But it couldn’t be. The nearest houses were down the road in the other direction. Scotty wouldn’t have gone in the direction from which he had heard the yell.

  Still . . . Rick bit his lip. He was worried now, worried about Scotty. If he could only be sure!

  For a moment he debated hurrying to the parking area, then realized there was nothing there that would give him any kind of cover. If Soapy or Lefty were over there, he would walk right into them.

  The yell hadn’t sounded like Scotty, now that he thought about it. The voice had been deeper, of a different quality.That, plus doubt that Scotty would have gone in that direction, decided his course of action. He slipped through the board opening into the amusement park.

  He knew his way around the park now, thanks to his and Scotty’s earlier visits. He cut across lots, moving fairly rapidly, but taking advantage of every bit of cover. He headed straight for the fun house.

  That was the focus of all Strade’s activities. Whatever Soapy Strade wanted would be there.

  He wondered about the man they had slugged. He had expected to see Lefty, or the third man who had ambushed Mike Curtis. Probably the stranger was one of Soapy’s old gang. Rick was sure he had never seen the man before.

  The closer he got to the fun house, the slower he went. He circled to approach it from the rear, alert for any hint of light.

  If Soapy was inside, he would be using either a lamp or a flashlight. Either would show through the window. As he got closer and saw no light he began to wonder. Was anyone in the place?

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  He slipped the pistol from his belt and moved closer to the building, listening. There was no sound. He moved closer still, putting each foot down carefully to avoid making any noise. He kept going until he was at the wall of the building, his ear against it.

  If anyone walked around inside, or spoke, he would be able to hear. But the only thing he heard was his own pulse.

  He thought it over. There was a possibility that Soapy had already come and gone. There was also a strong possibility that Soapy had something to do with the yell he had heard. If so, he might not have arrived as yet.

  The door was around the corner from the wall where he was listening. He moved to the corner and peered around. Nothing moved in the faint starlight.

  Rick debated swiftly. The better part of valor was wisdom, which called for a quick retreat into some strategic corner from which he could watch. But he was also curious, and very often his curiosity overcame his wisdom. He wanted to know why Soapy had returned to the amusement park. There was an obvious answer. The escaped gangster had returned to get something.

  He tiptoed to the door, opened it, and with pistol extended, stepped inside.

  Silence greeted him.

  He took a step forward and something scurried across the floor with a scratching of tiny claws. Only a rat, but his nerves made him jump involuntarily. Sweat started out in beads on his face.

  The rat could just as well have been Soapy. He realized now that entering the building had been the height of foolishness. Better get out-and quick. He knew just where he could hide, behind a counter in one of the concession buildings. He would have a view-such as it was in the darkness-of the fun house back door. That was all he needed.

  He pushed the door open,then stopped with one foot outside, cold sweat bathing him. There were low voices, and they were coming his way!

  There wasn’t time to run for it. He did the only thing he could do. He stepped back inside, swung the door closed, then felt his way to the inner door that led to the former mirror chamber. Fortunately, he remembered the layout of the place. He avoided obstacles by feeling with each foot before he put it down.

  When he gained the shelter of the inner room he was sweating profusely. He didn’t know whose voices they were, but he had a very good idea. One thing was certain. They weren’t friendly. Friends would have come with lights.

  His mind raced. If he was correct in supposing Soapy had come to get something, then he was in real danger. Captain Douglas and the troopers had searched the back room thoroughly. It wasn’t likely that whatever Soapy wanted was there. It must be in the main room, perhaps under the sliding stairs, or under the floor. It might even be on the second floor.

  Already moving, he planned what he would do. He remembered the upstairs pretty well. He would go to the landing and wait. If Soapy got what he was after in the main room, well and good. He would have an Page 76

  audience of one. If the reason for Soapy’s return was on the upper floor, Rick wouldgo through the roof trap door. From there he could climb down the roller coaster frame to the ground.

  It all depended on his not being seen. If he was seen . . . there was only one thing to do. He would have to try to shoot his way clear.

  He had to tuck the pistol in his belt now, however, because he needed both hands to feel his way. Even the big main room waspitch dark. As he entered it he heard the voices in the room behind.

  He turned and stepped cautiously, feeling his way to the sliding stairs. Then he went up them, careful to keep close to the wall where the stairs were less likely to creak. He paused at the landing and tried to figure the best place to hide. He settled on the little booth where the stair lever was located. He could stand up in there, be reasonably shielded, and he could watch what went on below.

  The palms of his hands were wet. He wiped them on his trouser legs. He probably looked like a scared spook, he told himself. And that was how he felt. He was plenty scared. Lefty was bad enough, but it was the thought of Soapy that really made him shudder. The only way to be complete master of a crime ring, as Soapy had been, was to be tougher than the toughest gunsel in the mob.

  He couldn’t kid himself. He was courting sudden death. Again he called himself a fool for going inside that door.

  He shrank back without thinking as a faint beam of yellow light marked the dark floor below. Then he moved forward again and watched it. It grew larger and larger, until the big room was filled with faint dancing shadows. Then the source of light emerged. It was a lantern, and holding it was Soapy Strade.

  Rick held his breath. The next few moments would tell the story.

  Strade came out of the mirror room, turned, and in a few strides was at the stairs.

  Rick turned to hurry out, and his belt caught on the stair lever. He grabbed for it, trying to free himself, and the tip of the lever thrust further through the belt.

  Strade was on the stairs, starting up!

  Rick jerked free, and the lever moved. />
  The gang leader let out a wild yell as the stairs slid from under him!

  Rick moved like a streak toward the safety of the roof, struck the booth door frame with his arm and spun around, and his belt, loosened by his sudden jerk for freedom, released the pistol. It clattered to the floor, slid, and spun noisily down the slide!

  At that moment Strade struck the floor, the lantern flew from his hand and smashed against something.

  Darkness flooded in.

  Rick didn’t waste time in lamenting the loss of his pistol. In two jumps he was at the trap door, forcing it open. His back muscles tensed, waiting for the shock of a bullet.

  Compared with the blackness inside the fun house, it was light outside. At least it was light enough to see shapes, and the dirty gray frame of the coaster. Rick hurried across the roof to the first upright and Page 77

  searched for a way down. He knew he had only seconds. Soapy would be coming up the other stairs, murder on his mind.

  A quick survey failed to disclose an upright that led to the ground. Rick leaned over and looked down.

  A jump would break a leg from that height!

  He turned to look for another way down from the roof and realized that there was none.

  There was no way at all to get down from the roof! He hadn’t seen the significance of the roller coaster tracks on the fun house roof. Now it suddenly dawned upon him that the roller coaster had been constructed so that the fun house itself was a part of the structure, supporting the tracks at that point! He couldn’t go down!

  He could only go up!

  CHAPTER XVI

  For Want of a Nickel

  When Scotty left Rick at the project building he headed south. The nearest houses were in that direction and he was as apt to run into a police car there as anywhere.

  For a few moments he worried about leaving Rick behind, but there had been no other choice. With that injured leg his pal couldn’t have run the distance, and speed was imperative. Soapy Strade surely wouldn’t be hanging around the amusement park for very long. He had to get into his boat and take off for his hiding place before daylight.