MRS1 The Under Dogs

by Hulbert Footner

The bathroom of the house was next to Jessie's room, and therefore immediately under the room where the prisoner was confined. Jessie carried broom, paper and pencil into the bathroom, and hooked the door behind her. Drawing down the top sash of the window, she stood on the sill, and leaning backwards over the sash, thrust her broom up as far as she could reach, and waved the brush to and fro in front of the window above.

  There was no response, and Jessie was finally obliged to let the broom softly brush against the sill of the window overhead. The risk was sickening, because Fingy was in the room next to the girl's; his window was open, of course, and he might not be asleep. Finally, through the window above, came faintly the rattle of a chain, and an astonished head stuck out. With a great uprush of joy, Jessie saw that it was indeed Melanie Soupert.

  Jessie had never seen Melanie closer than five hundred feet, but the girl had often been described to her, and there could be no possibility of mistaking that bobbed black hair, those big dark eyes, and the resolute, beautiful mouth. Melanie showed with tragic clearness what she had been through; her face was gaunt, her hair unkempt, her eyes red-rimmed. She looked at Jessie in the purest amazement, for Melanie had no clue to her.

  Jessie instantly laid a finger on her lips, and pointed to the window of the room adjoining Melanie's. Melanie closed her eyes and silently signified a person snoring. Jessie, reassured, showed her the pencil and paper, and retired inside the window to write her note.

  "I am your friend. I will help you. Have you got a couple of sheets? If you'll knot them and let them down when I give you a signal, I'll come to you to-night."

  Jessie inserted the paper between the splints of the broom, and pushed it up towards Melanie. Melanie read it, and her dulled eyes began to shine again. She nodded eagerly. The paper she instinctively put in her mouth.

  Jessie wrote her a second note. "My room is next to the bathroom. I am locked in at night. I can get across to the bathroom window all right. The rope needn't be but about eight feet long. It ought to have a knot every eighteen inches. See that the end is firmly secured to the frame of your bed. Let it drop over when you hear me scratch on my sill."

  Melanie read this with more eager nods, and Jessie went back to her own room, well satisfied with the start she had made. She subsequently returned the broom to its corner in the kitchen, and the pencil to its drawer.

  During the rest of the day Jessie mooned about those parts of the house that were free to her; the kitchen, the dining-room and her own room, apparently bored to extinction, but with her mind functioning in a high state of activity. Her prime object, of course, was to rescue Melanie, but it was of no less importance to get the big boss of them all. How to work the two things together; that was her problem. She could not allow Melanie to remain there indefinitely in danger; but on the other hand, if she got Melanie out, that would certainly blow the whole game. As yet Jessie had no direct lead to the man she wanted.

  Black Kate joined the others at supper that night, and Jessie had a different part to play. It was useless, now, to think of winning Kate's good-will, and to seek to win the others while Kate was present, would be an unforgivable offence in the woman's eyes. So Jessie contented herself with marking time, letting it be seen, though, that she had nothing on her mind, and that she was perfectly willing to laugh and joke with anybody who gave her an opening.

  But it was a sullen meal; an ordeal for a sensitive person to have to sit through it. Apart from Jessie, though, there were no sensitive persons present, with the possible exception of little Abell, whose thin face was bitter. The others seemed to find the atmosphere of hate and suspicion quite natural.

  When the company around the table broke up, Bill Combs, with mysterious becks and winks, let it be still more clearly seen that he had a communication to make to Jessie. It seemed to Jessie that it was worth risking something to receive it; and with a meaning look at Bill, she went up to her room, and waited in the doorway. He presently came to her.

  Bill was like a great mastiff trying to be friendly.

  "You don't need to be afraid of me no more," he whispered huskily.

  "I am not afraid of you, Bill," she said simply.

  "Here," he said, "I wanted you to have this while I was out to-night. Maybe I won't be back."

  "Won't be back!" she echoed in dismay.

  He was rather pathetically pleased by her concern. "Would you care?" he said.

  "You know you're the only friend I've got!"

  "Oh, well, it's nothing special," he said. "But there's always a risk when you've got a trick to turn."

  "And it's us that takes it," said Jessie.

  "Oh, sure," he said philosophically; "whatever happens to us, the organisation goes on."

  Meanwhile, Bill was pressing a cold, object of significant shape into Jessie's hand. It was a small automatic.

  "'Tain't loaded," he said, "I don't want no shooting here. But just to show it would protect you."

  "Thanks, Bill," said Jessie. "But what have I got to be afraid of to-night? Not of Pap nor of Sam, surely."

  "I wasn't thinkin' about them," said Bill, "but of Black Kate. She's got a nasty streak of cruelty in her nature. And when I was out she might try to take it out on you."

  "I understand," said Jessie. "Thanks again, Bill."

  "Don't mention it," said Bill seriously.

  Jessie chuckled inwardly at the big fellow's new-found manners.

  He went on up to his room, which he shared with Abell. Jessie went down to the kitchen. Always trying to make good with the gang, she volunteered to help Pap with the dishes. Before they were finished Big Bill and Fingy Silo set off through the back door upon the night's lousiness. Neatly dressed and freshly shaven. Jessie found herself inwardly smiling at their virtuous expressions. "How strange life is!" she thought.

  Afterwards she and Pap sat down to a game of pinochle. In the kitchen they were pretty safe from Black Kate's presence, for the mistress of the house considered it beneath her dignity to sit down there. Neither Kate nor Sam troubled them during the evening. At ten o'clock Abell went out carrying his little black satchell. He gave Jessie a twisted smile; friendly enough, and inexpressibly painful.

  And then, to Jessie's satisfaction, Pap began to yawn. "I wish I could give you a sleeping-draught, old man," she thought. The game petered out, and Jessie went upstairs.

  Listening within her room, she heard Pap come up. He stopped at Kate's door for the key, handed in Melanie's meagre rations to her, and returned the key to Kate. Finally Jessie heard him enter his own room above her. In a few minutes Kate came along the hall and locked the door of Jessie's room.

  Jessie paced up and down. She must give Pap plenty of time to settle down. A horrible indecision attacked her. She was seriously disturbed by Bill's suggestion concerning Black Kate. Suppose Kate came to her room while she was out of it? Better put it off until another night perhaps. On the other hand, the danger of Kate's coming would be the same every night. And that poor girl upstairs would be waiting the livelong night through for the signal. No! this night as well as another.

  She jammed the back of the chair firmly under the handle of her door. That ought to hold it long enough for her to get back. It was only a matter of swinging down on the rope. But if Kate found her fully-dressed? She decided to go in her night-clothes. She hung the little pistol around her neck on a string. She tumbled the bed clothes.

  When she was ready, she went to the window. All was dark outside. Whether Pap snored or not, she did not know. No sound reached her. She stuck her head out, and looked up. Over the sill above, and to the right, stuck another head, shadowy against the night sky. How long had Melanie been waiting there?

  With her hand Melanie made a gesture of negation, Jessie was not to come yet. So they waited. At intervals Melanie left the window, no doubt to listen with her ear against the partition between the two rooms. A long time passed. Finally Melanie beckoned, and Jessie climbed out on the window sill.

  The knotted sheet f
ell in front of her, and Jessie reached for it. It would be easier to go than it would be to come back, but Jessie had no doubt of her ability to make it. She grasped the rope, and swung over. Hand over hand she pulled herself up by the knots. Melanie helped her over the sill.

  Jessie felt for the girl's hand in the dark, and squeezed it. There was no answering pressure, and things went swiftly through Jessie's mind. "Melanie has been thinking things over, and has become suspicious!" she thought. "It is natural enough. She thinks I may have been planted by Black Kate just to betray her." In an instant Jessie had changed her whole plan of action. She determined not to tell Melanie who she was. That story would sound too incredible, and might very well confirm the girl in her suspicions.

  "Who are you?" Melanie breathed in her ear.

  "Jessie Seipp," she answered. "Listen, and I'll tell you."

  The two sat side by side on the bed. Always lip pressed to ear they spoke. Jessie apprehended that Melanie was dragging the chain from one wrist. Jessie kept Melanie's hand between both of hers, feeling that she must be assured in the end by the beat of her pulses that she Jessie, was her true friend.

  "I was sent up to Woburn for robbin' Mrs. Cornelius Marquardt," Jessie whispered. "Up there I was put in the next cell to a girl called Minnie Dickerson. We used to talk nights. She told me all about you, and how you escaped from Woburn. She told me a lot about this gang too; I mean only what an outsider might know. She said they'd come after me, and they did. The woman of the house here, Mrs. Pullen, or Black Kate, as they call her. She came to see me at Woburn. And afterwards she got me out, and she brought me here.

  "I been here two days now," Jessie went on, "and I picked up a word here, and a word there, and I finally pieced it out that you was locked up here. I seen Pap bring you your supper. Then I made a signal to you wit' t' broom, and here I am. It's a dirty rotten shame. I'm goin' to stand by you and be your friend."

  "You can't do nothin' for me," whispered Melanie apathetically.

  "I'm goin' to get you out and get myself out, too. Minnie was right when she said it was worse than suicide, goin' in with this gang. I on'y been here two days, but I seen how things are."

  "There's no place we could go where he couldn't get us."

  "I got friends who'll keep us close."

  "What you want to do all this for? I'm nottin' to you."

  "Well, I promised Minnie I'd be friends if I ever come up with you. We got to help each other out, ain't we?"

  Still there was no response, and for a moment Jessie was at a loss. It would be fatal to try to force the girl's confidence. Finally mother wit whispered what to do. "Well, I better go now," she breathed in Melanie's ear. "It's too risky, staying."

  It worked. Melanie's hand instantly clung to hers. That slightly trembling hand was terribly eloquent. It spoke both of Melanie's longing to make a friend, and her fear of betrayal.

  "Ain't you got nothin' to ask me?" she whispered to Jessie.

  "No," Jessie whispered back. "You suspicion me already. If I tried to get anything out of you, then you'd be sure I was workin' for Black Kate."

  "Will you come again?" Melanie whispered tremulously.

  "No," said Jessie. "It's too risky. I won't come again until I got a plan all doped out. That may take time."

  This simple speech turned the scale. For, of course, if Jessie was in right with Black Kate, she could come at any time. Melanie broke down. Half turning on the bed, she flung an arm around Jessie, and buried her face in her shoulder. It was the terrible and complete break-down of an ordinarily strong and self-sufficient nature. Melanie's whole body was shaken as by a violent ague of sobbing, though she made no sound.

  Jessie held her close. "There! It's all right now," she whispered. "You and me'll see each other through."

  "You ... you don't know what I been through!" whispered Melanie, suffocated by her sobs.

  "Sh!" breathed Jessie. "Don't try to talk, or you'll bust out. Just let it come easy. Do you good. I know how it is. I can guess what you been through, too. That woman is a fiend out of hell!"

  "She ... she ..." whispered Melanie.

  Jessie put a hand over her mouth. "Don't try to tell me now," she whispered swiftly. "Time enough later."

  Gradually Melanie quieted down. "Ah, it's good to have you here," she whispered, clinging hard to Jessie. "If you mean to do me a dirty trick, God forgive you! 'Tain't worth your while. For I'm done! They've broke me!"

  "You'll see whether I'm on the square or not," whispered Jessie.

  After a while Jessie said: "I'm not going to ask you no questions. If there's anything you want to tell me go ahead. But it's nothin' to me."

  "Ain't nothin' to tell," whispered Melanie. "You see how it is."

  "There's one thing puzzles me," said Jessie. "I'm supposing they think that you've betrayed the organisation in some way."

  "Yes, but they got no proof of it," said Melanie.

  "Yes, but if they think so. They all tell me that a suspicion of treason, as they call it, is enough. I understand that there's a nice dirt cellar under this house that's waitin' for traitors."

  "That's right," whispered Melanie, "and they mean to stick me under it when I've served their turn. They're tryin' to get another through me, see? There's a fellow has slipped out of the hands of the big boss. They're hoping that this fellow'll hear that I'm locked up here, and that he'll try to see me, or get me out, see? Then they'll nab him, and stick us both under the dirt together."

  Melanie began to shake again. "That's what drives me wild," she whispered. "I don't care about myself. But he ... he's had nothin' but trouble and hurt through me. We were crazy about each other. If I knew he was safe, I wouldn't care!"

  "That's George Mullen," whispered Jessie.

  "Where 'd you hear that name?" demanded Melanie, clutching her.

  "Minnie Dickerson told me."

  "A-ah, Min talks too much."

  "Maybe we can get word to him," whispered Jessie.

  "That's just what I don't want," answered Melanie. "That would bring him. I'm scared now that he'll hear from somebody, who's heard it from somebody else, who's heard it from one of the men in the house, that I'm locked up here. At the mercy of Black Kate."

  "But if we got the right kind of a message to him."

  Melanie still shook her head. "I wouldn't tell you how to reach him. I think now that you're my friend. But that's something I couldn't tell to anybody on earth."

  "I already know how to reach him," said Jessie. "Through his mother."

  Melanie took her arm from about Jessie, and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God! if any further harm comes to him through me..." she murmured.

  Jessie put her lips to the girl's ear. "Sh!" she whispered warningly.

  "Oh," said Melanie, "if Pap's awake, he's often heard me talkin' to myself. He won't listen."

  However, she put her lips to Jessie's ear again. "Listen," she whispered imploringly, "if you're on the square, for God's sake don't try to send any kind of a message to him. I hope and pray that he's cleared out; that he's far enough away never to hear of me again!"

  Jessie held her close. She whispered: "Well, the first thing we got to do is to dope out some way..."

  The sentence never got itself finished, for a sound came from the floor below, that caused them to spring apart; the thrust of key in a lock.

  "Black Kate," gasped Melanie; "at your door!"

  In a flash Jessie was at the window. She tossed the knotted rope out, and climbed over the sill. A moment later, she was hanging in front of the bathroom window. Still clinging to the rope, she managed to pull herself over to her own sill by means of the shutters. She let herself down to a sitting position, with her feet inside, and let go the rope. It was instantly jerked up out of sight.

  Black Kate had not yet got into the room. She was viciously pounding on the door. "Let me in!" she cried. It was the first time she had spoken. Jessie gave her heart a moment to quiet down.

  "Let me in!
" cried Kate again.

  "Oh, it's you!" answered Jessie from the direction of the bed. "One moment."

  She lit the gas, and took the little pistol in her hand. Then she pulled the chair from under the handle of the door.

  Kate was still fully dressed; Sam was behind her. The violent oath on her lips was checked at the sight of the gun. She looked very queer. "Where'd you get that?" she demanded.

  Nothing like the truth, thought Jessie. "Bill gave it to me," she said.

  "Hand it over," said Kate peremptorily.

  Jessie retreated one step, and slowly shook her head. "It's Bill's," she said. "I'll only give it to him."

  Kate's face was hideous with rage. However, she decided not to force the issue. "Why didn't you let me in right away?" she demanded.

  "I was asleep," said Jessie, with innocent eyes. "At first I thought it was one of the men."

  "You don't need to fear any of the men when I'm in the next room."

  "But if you found one of them here, you'd blame me," said Jessie.

  Black Kate lost countenance again.

  "What did you want of me?" asked Jessie, innocent still.

  "Er ... I thought I heard a noise in here," said Black Kate, looking around the room.

  "I don't know ... I was asleep," said Jessie demurely. She looked around, too.

  In order to save her face Black Kate flew into a fresh passion. "You gotta understand that I make my rounds any time of day or night, as I see fit," she said.

  "Oh, certainly," said Jessie humbly.

  Black Kate slammed the door, and turned the key in it. Jessie looked down at the diminutive black object in her hand.

  "Little friend, you did me a good turn," she murmured.

  CHAPTER XVII

  JESSIE'S TEACHER

  In the kitchen next morning, Jessie and Pap were washing dishes, while Bill sat by the window, filling his first after-breakfast pipe, Evidently the expedition of the night before had been crowned with success, for Bill was in a high good humour.

  "Like to take a walk?" he said to Jessie.

  "Sure," said Jessie facetiously. "Were'll it be? Up and down the hall or out in the yard?"