The show over Willie set forth afoot for home. A long walk lay ahead of him. This in itself was bad enough; but what lay at the end of the long walk was infinitely worse, as Willie’s father had warned him to return immediately after the inquest, in time for milking, preferably. Before he had gone two blocks from the theater Willie had concocted at least three tales to account for his tardiness, either one of which would have done credit to the imaginative powers of a Rider Haggard or a Jules Verne; but at the end of the third block he caught a glimpse of something which drove all thoughts of home from his mind and came but barely short of driving his mind out too. He was approaching the entrance to an alley. Old trees grew in the parkway at his side. At the street corner a half block away a high flung arc swung gently from its supporting cables, casting a fair light upon the alley’s mouth, and just emerging from behind the nearer fence Willie Case saw the huge bulk of a bear. Terrified, Willie jumped behind a tree; and then, fearful lest the animal might have caught sight or scent of him he poked his head cautiously around the side of the bole just in time to see the figure of a girl come out of the alley behind the bear. Willie recognized her at the first glance — she was the very girl he had seen burying the dead man in the Squibbs woods. Instantly Willie Case was transformed again into the shrewd and death defying sleuth. At a safe distance he followed the girl and the bear through one alley after another until they came out upon the road which leads south from Payson. He was across the road when she joined Bridge and his companions. When they turned toward the old mill he followed them, listening close to the rotting clapboards for any chance remark which might indicate their future plans. He heard them debating the wisdom of remaining where they were for the night or moving on to another location which they had evidently decided upon but no clew to which they dropped.
“The objection to remaining here,” said Bridge, “is that we can’t make a fire to cook by — it would be too plainly visible from the road.”
“But I can no fin’ road by dark,” explained Giova. “It bad road by day, ver’ much worse by night. Beppo no come ‘cross swamp by night. No, we got stay here til morning.”
“All right,” replied Bridge, “we can eat some of this canned stuff and have our ham and coffee after we reach camp tomorrow morning, eh?”
“And now that we’ve gotten through Payson safely,” suggested The Oskaloosa Kid, “let’s change back into our own clothes. This disguise makes me feel too conspicuous.”
Willie Case had heard enough. His quarry would remain where it was over night, and a moment later Willie was racing toward Payson and a telephone as fast as his legs would carry him.
In an old brick structure a hundred yards below the mill where the lighting machinery of Payson had been installed before the days of the great central power plant a hundred miles away four men were smoking as they lay stretched upon the floor.
“I tell you I seen him,” asserted one of the party. “I follered this Bridge guy from town to the mill. He was got up like a Gyp; but I knew him all right, all right. This scenery of his made me tink there was something phoney doin’, or I wouldn’t have trailed him, an’ its a good ting I done it, fer he hadn’t ben there five minutes before along comes The Kid an’ a skirt and pretty soon a nudder chicken wid a calf on a string, er mebbie it was a sheep — it was pretty husky lookin’ fer a sheep though. An’ I sticks aroun’ a minute until I hears this here Bridge guy call the first skirt ‘Miss Prim.’”
He ceased speaking to note the effect of his words on his hearers. They were electrical. The Sky Pilot sat up straight and slapped his thigh. Soup Face opened his mouth, letting his pipe fall out into his lap, setting fire to his ragged trousers. Dirty Eddie voiced a characteristic obscenity.
“So you sees,” went on Columbus Blackie, “we got a chanct to get both the dame and The Kid. Two of us can take her to Oakdale an’ claim the reward her old man’s offerin’ an’ de odder two can frisk de Kid, an’ — an’ — .”
“An’ wot?” queried The Sky Pilot.
“Dere’s de swamp handy,” suggested Soup Face.
“I was tinkin’ of de swamp,” said Columbus Blackie.
“Eddie and I will return Miss Prim to her bereaved parents,” interrupted The Sky Pilot. “You, Blackie, and Soup Face can arrange matters with The Oskaloosa Kid. I don’t care for details. We will all meet in Toledo as soon as possible and split the swag. We ought to make a cleaning on this job, boes.”
“You spit a mout’ful then,” said Columbus Blackie.
They fell to discussing way and means.
“We’d better wait until they’re asleep,” counseled The Sky Pilot. “Two of us can tackle this Bridge and hand him the k.o. quick. Eddie and Soup Face had better attend to that. Blackie can nab The Kid an’ I’ll annex Miss Abigail Prim. The lady with the calf we don’t want. We’ll tell her we’re officers of the law an’ that she’d better duck with her live stock an’ keep her trap shut if she don’t want to get mixed up with a murder trial.”
Detective Burton was at the county jail in Oakdale administering the third degree to Dopey Charlie and The General when there came a long distance telephone call for him.
“Hello!” said the voice at the other end of the line; “I’m Willie Case, an’ I’ve found Miss Abigail Prim.”
“Again?” queried Burton.
“Really,” asserted Willie. “I know where she’s goin’ to be all night. I heard ’em say so. The Oskaloosie Kid’s with her an’ annuder guy an’ the girl I seen with the dead man in Squibbs’ woods an’ they got a BEAR!” It was almost a shriek. “You’d better come right away an’ bring Mr. Prim. I’ll meet you on the ol’ Toledo road right south of Payson, an’ say, do I get the whole reward?”
“You’ll get whatever’s coming to you, son,” replied Burton. “You say there are two men and two women — are you sure that is all?”
“And the bear,” corrected Willie.
“All right, keep quiet and wait for me,” cautioned Burton. “You’ll know me by the spot light on my car — I’ll have it pointed straight up into the air. When you see it coming get into the middle of the road and wave your hands to stop us. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said Willie.
“And don’t talk to anyone,” Burton again cautioned him.
A few minutes later Burton left Oakdale with his two lieutenants and a couple of the local policemen, the car turning south toward Payson and moving at ever accelerating speed as it left the town streets behind it and swung smoothly onto the country road.
It was after midnight when four men cautiously approached the old mill. There was no light nor any sign of life within as they crept silently through the doorless doorway. Columbus Blackie was in the lead. He flashed a quick light around the interior revealing four forms stretched upon the floor, deep in slumber. Into the blacker shadows of the far end of the room the man failed to shine his light for the first flash had shown him those whom he sought. Picking out their quarry the intruders made a sudden rush upon the sleepers.
Bridge awoke to find two men attempting to rain murderous blows upon his head. Wiry, strong and full of the vigor of a clean life, he pitted against their greater numbers and cowardly attack a defense which was infinitely more strenuous than they had expected.
Columbus Blackie leaped for The Oskaloosa Kid, while The Sky Pilot seized upon Abigail Prim. No one paid any attention to Giova, nor, with the noise and confusion, did the intruders note the sudden clanking of a chain from out the black depths of the room’s further end, or the splintering of a half decayed studding.
Soup Face entangling himself about Bridge’s legs succeeded in throwing the latter to the floor while Dirty Eddie kicked viciously at the prostrate man’s head. The Sky Pilot seized Abigail Prim about the waist and dragged her toward the doorway and though the girl fought valiantly to free herself her lesser muscles were unable to cope successfully with those of the man. Columbus Blackie found his hands full with The Oskaloosa Kid. Again and again
the youth struck him in the face; but the man persisted, beating down the slim hands and striking viciously at body and head until, at last, the boy, half stunned though still struggling, was dragged from the room.
Simultaneously a series of frightful growls reverberated through the deserted mill. A huge body catapulted into the midst of the fighters. Abigail Prim screamed. “The bear!” she cried. “The bear is loose!”
Dirty Eddie was the first to feel the weight of Beppo’s wrath. His foot drawn back to implant a vicious kick in Bridge’s face he paused at the girl’s scream and at the same moment a huge thing reared up before him. Just for an instant he sensed the terrifying presence of some frightful creature, caught the reflected gleam of two savage eyes and felt the hot breath from distended jaws upon his cheek, then Beppo swung a single terrific blow which caught the man upon the side of the head to spin him across the floor and drop him in a crumpled heap against the wall, with a fractured skull. Dirty Eddie was out. Soup Face, giving voice to a scream more bestial than human, rose to his feet and fled in the opposite direction.
Beppo paused and looked about. He discovered Bridge lying upon the floor and sniffed at him. The man lay perfectly quiet. He had heard that often times a bear will not molest a creature which it thinks dead. Be that as it may Beppo chanced at that moment to glance toward the doorway. There, silhouetted against the lesser darkness without, he saw the figures of Columbus Blackie and The Oskaloosa Kid and with a growl he charged them. The two were but a few paces outside the doorway when the full weight of the great bear struck Columbus Blackie between the shoulders. Down went the man and as he fell he released his hold upon the youth who immediately turned and ran for the road.
The momentum of the bear carried him past the body of his intended victim who, frightened but uninjured, scrambled to his feet and dashed toward the rear of the mill in the direction of the woods and distant swamp. Beppo, recovering from his charge, wheeled in time to catch a glimpse of his quarry after whom he made with all the awkwardness that was his birthright and with the speed of a race horse.
Columbus Blackie, casting a terrified glance rearward, saw his Nemesis flashing toward him, and dodged around a large tree. Again Beppo shot past the man while the latter, now shrieking for help, raced madly in a new direction.
Bridge had arisen and come out of the mill. He called aloud for The Oskaloosa Kid. Giova answered him from a small tree. “Climb!” she cried. “Climb a tree! Ever’one climb a small tree. Beppo he go mad. He keel ever’one. Run! Climb! He keel me. Beppo he got evil-eye.”
Along the road from the north came a large touring car, swinging from side to side in its speed. Its brilliant headlights illuminated the road far ahead. They picked out The Sky Pilot and Abigail Prim, they found The Oskaloosa Kid climbing a barbed wire fence and then with complaining brakes the car came to a sudden stop. Six men leaped from the machine and rounded up the three they had seen. Another came running toward them. It was Soup Face, so thoroughly terrified that he would gladly have embraced a policeman in uniform, could the latter have offered him protection.
A boy accompanied the newcomers. “There he is!” he screamed, pointing at The Oskaloosa Kid. “There he is! And you’ve got Miss Prim, too, and when do I get the reward?”
“Shut up!” said one of the men.
“Watch this bunch,” said Burton to one of his lieutenants, “while we go after the rest of them. There are some over by the mill. I can hear them.”
From the woods came a fear-filled scream mingled with the savage growls of a beast.
“It’s the bear,” shrilled Willie Case, and ran toward the automobile.
Bridge ran forward to meet Burton. “Get that girl and the kid into your machine and beat it!” he cried. “There’s a bear loose here, a regular devil of a bear. You can’t do a thing unless you have rifles. Have you?”
“Who are you?” asked the detective.
“He’s one of the gang,” yelled Willie Case from the fancied security of the tonneau. “Seize him!” He wanted to add: “My men”; but somehow his nerve failed him at the last moment; however he had the satisfaction of thinking it.
Bridge was placed in the car with Abigail Prim, The Oskaloosa Kid, Soup Face and The Sky Pilot. Burton sent the driver back to assist in guarding them; then he with the remaining three, two of whom were armed with rifles, advanced toward the mill. Beyond it they heard the growling of the bear at a little distance in the wood; but the man no longer made any outcry. From a tree Giova warned them back.
“Come down!” commanded Burton, and sent her back to the car.
The driver turned his spot light upon the wood beyond the mill and presently there came slowly forward into its rays the lumbering bulk of a large bear. The light bewildered him and he paused, growling. His left shoulder was partially exposed.
“Aim for his chest, on the left side,” whispered Burton. The two men raised their rifles. There were two reports in close succession. Beppo fell forward without a sound and then rolled over on his side. Giova covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
“He ver’ bad, ugly bear,” she said brokenly; “but he all I have to love.”
Bridge extended a hand and patted her bowed head. In the eyes of The Oskaloosa Kid there glistened something perilously similar to tears.
In the woods back of the mill Burton and his men found the mangled remains of Columbus Blackie, and when they searched the interior of the structure they brought forth the unconscious Dirty Eddie. As the car already was taxed to the limit of its carrying capacity Burton left two of his men to march The Kid and Bridge to the Payson jail, taking the others with him to Oakdale. He was also partially influenced in this decision by the fear that mob violence would be done the principals by Oakdale’s outraged citizens. At Payson he stopped long enough at the town jail to arrange for the reception of the two prisoners, to notify the coroner of the death of Columbus Blackie and the whereabouts of his body and to place Dirty Eddie in the hospital. He then telephoned Jonas Prim that his daughter was safe and would be returned to him in less than an hour.
By the time Bridge and The Oskaloosa Kid reached Payson the town was in an uproar. A threatening crowd met them a block from the jail; but Burton’s men were armed with rifles which they succeeded in convincing the mob they would use if their prisoners were molested. The telephone, however, had carried the word to Oakdale; so that before Burton arrived there a dozen automobile loads of indignant citizens were racing south toward Payson.
Bridge and The Oskaloosa Kid were hustled into the single cell of the Payson jail. A bench ran along two sides of the room. A single barred window let out upon the yard behind the structure. The floor was littered with papers, and a single electric light bulb relieved the gloom of the unsavory place.
The Oskaloosa Kid sank, trembling, upon one of the hard benches. Bridge rolled a cigaret. At his feet lay a copy of that day’s Oakdale Tribune. A face looked up from the printed page into his eyes. He stooped and took up the paper. The entire front page was devoted to the various crimes which had turned peaceful Oakdale inside out in the past twenty four hours. There were reproductions of photographs of John Baggs, Reginald Paynter, Abigail Prim, Jonas Prim, and his wife, with a large cut of the Prim mansion, a star marking the boudoir of the missing daughter of the house. As Bridge examined the various pictures an odd expression entered his eyes — it was a mixture of puzzlement, incredulity, and relief. Tossing the paper aside he turned toward The Oskaloosa Kid. They could hear the sullen murmur of the crowd in front of the jail.
“If they get any booze,” he said, “they’ll take us out of here and string us up. If you’ve got anything to say that would tend to convince them that you did not kill Paynter I advise you to call the guard and tell the truth, for if the mob gets us they might hang us first and listen afterward — a mob is not a nice thing. Beppo was an angel of mercy by comparison with one.”
“Could you convince them that you had no part in any of these crimes?” asked th
e boy. “I know that you didn’t; but could you prove it to a mob?”
“No,” said Bridge. “A mob is not open to reason. If they get us I shall hang, unless someone happens to think of the stake.”
The boy shuddered.
“Will you tell the truth?” asked the man.
“I will go with you,” replied the boy, “and take whatever you get.”
“Why?” asked Bridge.
The youth flushed; but did not reply, for there came from without a sudden augmentation of the murmurings of the mob. Automobile horns screamed out upon the night. The two heard the chugging of motors, the sound of brakes and the greetings of new arrivals. The reinforcements had arrived from Oakdale.
A guard came to the grating of the cell door. “The bunch from Oakdale has come,” he said. “If I was you I’d say my prayers. Old man Baggs is dead. No one never had no use for him while he was alive, but the whole county’s het up now over his death. They’re bound to get you, an’ while I didn’t count ’em all I seen about a score o’ ropes. They mean business.”
Bridge turned toward the boy. “Tell the truth,” he said. “Tell this man.”
The youth shook his head. “I have killed no one,” said he. “That is the truth. Neither have you; but if they are going to murder you they can murder me too, for you stuck to me when you didn’t have to; and I am going to stick to you, and there is some excuse for me because I have a reason — the best reason in the world.”
“What is it?” asked Bridge.
The Oskaloosa Kid shook his head, and once more he flushed.
“Well,” said the guard, with a shrug of his shoulders, “it’s up to you guys. If you want to hang, why hang and be damned. We’ll do the best we can ‘cause it’s our duty to protect you; but I guess at that hangin’s too good fer you, an’ we ain’t a-goin’ to get shot keepin’ you from gettin’ it.”
“Thanks,” said Bridge.
The uproar in front of the jail had risen in volume until it was difficult for those within to make themselves heard without shouting. The Kid sat upon his bench and buried his face in his hands. Bridge rolled another smoke. The sound of a shot came from the front room of the jail, immediately followed by a roar of rage from the mob and a deafening hammering upon the jail door. A moment later this turned to the heavy booming of a battering ram and the splintering of wood. The frail structure quivered beneath the onslaught.
Delphi Collected Works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (Illustrated) (Series Four Book 26) Page 440