“Have you owned this mill for a long time?” the boy asked.
“Oh! No. Tom Ruby here only two months, but no want stay here; die of hunger if he stay in this country. Oh! Massa, how hard it is to live!”
“What you’re telling me doesn’t astonish me. Why don’t you go to the town? You’ll find a job there that will bring you in a lot more than your mill.”
“Yes, me will leave soon as find someone buy my mill. Massa no want my mill?”
“No, no, Mr. Ruby,” Charley answered, laughing. “What would I do with it? I wouldn’t even know how to make it work.”
“Oh! It’s very simple. Massa want to see the inside?”
“Why not? I’ve never yet visited a mill. That will interest me.”
“Good. Me come down. Climb up stairs and come in!”
Charley Lux went around the mill and found a narrow wooden stairway. He climbed the steps and went through a little door. The detective’s assistant had never been inside a windmill. Interested, he went forward slowly in order to examine the gears which caused the wings to move. At that moment he heard muffled footsteps. He tried to turn around, but he didn’t have time. From behind, he received a terrible blow to the head which made him lose consciousness.
Laughing, Tom Ruby observed the man he had just hit; he was holding a board with which he had delivered the blow.
“Ah! Business not bad as Massa thinks,” he murmured. “Me already make much money and nobody knows…nobody. A lot more pass here still…be made to give me what they have in pockets.”
The man, who was built like Hercules, bent down and picked up his unconscious victim. He carried Charley into a small room where he tied his feet and hands and then sat down in a rocking chair in front of a table. On the table there was ink, a pen, some paper and some pencils. He cut out a leaf about the size of a hand and placed it in front of his unconscious victim with a pencil, then he started to empty the young man’s pockets. He was satisfied with taking the wallet and the coin purse and leaving Charley the weapons. He appropriated half the bank notes the wallet contained and took out several pieces of gold from the coin purse. After that, he put the objects back in the young man’s pockets and sat down on a sack of flour to wait until he returned to consciousness.
At the end of half an hour, Charley regained consciousness, opened his eyes, and looked around him with astonishment. He immediately understood what had happened. He saw the man in a dark corner wearing only trousers and a colored shirt.
“The bare feet!” he thought.
Yes, it really was the big bare feet that had left their prints at the edge of the pond. Hatred for whites and his own avarice had pushed this man to odious crimes. Charley Lux didn’t for a moment doubt that he had before him the scoundrel 11 times a murderer whose victims had been pulled out of the Green Pool. The criminal was preparing a 12th horrible crime.
The young man didn’t have the least fear, however. He was, on the contrary, delighted with what had happened. Ethel King was at her post; she would intervene at the decisive moment, even if she didn’t as yet suspect the critical situation of her assistant.
“What does this mean?” Charley Lux shouted. “How dare you treat me this way?
Ruby didn’t answer immediately. The diabolical expression of triumph which could be read on his face inspired Charley with real horror.
After a long silence, the scoundrel finally spoke.
“Didn’t I tell Massa that business bad? Me had to find a way to add to my revenues. That’s why me have put my hand a little in the coin purse and wallet of Massa.”
“Rascal!” the detective shouted. “If that’s what you wanted, you can turn me loose now. Take everything but let me leave!”
The man laughed.
“No, no, Tom Ruby not so stupid! If me let Massa leave, Massa turn me in to police; then poor Tom go to prison and to the scaffold. Tom no want that!”
“But if I promise not to say anything?”
“Me believe not. No, no, me not let leave Massa. The others also beg Tom Ruby.”
“What others?”
“Well…those who sat in that chair before Massa. Massa share fate of the others.”
Charley put on a worried look. He wanted his captor to believe that he was afraid.
“What fate?” he asked.
“Massa die suicide.”
“Me, a suicide? I don’t have the least desire to do that.”
“Oh, yes, Massa finish suicide, drown in Green Pool.”
Charley cried out in horror.
“Did I hear right? So it was you, you scoundrel, who has on his conscience the death of all those poor people!”
“Oh! Those only be whites,” the man replied with a sardonic laugh.
“Scoundrel!” shouted the detective. “If I were free I’d shoot you down like a mad dog.”
“Tom willing believe it,” the man answered. “But let’s finish it. Me untie your right hand and you write on that sheet what I dictate.”
“I won’t write anything at all!”
“Let Massa think about it. Him at my mercy. Me can make him.”
“Nothing can make me decide to do what I don’t want to. Once and for all, I refuse. I won’t write a line.”
“Even so, Massa have to agree.”
Tom Ruby went into a corner of the hideout and called out:
“Pluto! Fox!”
Furious barking answered him. He opened a little door and two huge bull terriers bounded into the room. They began immediately to run angrily around Charley Lux’s chair. They snarled, showing their fearful fangs and stared at the prisoner with their bloodshot eyes.
“Well, how Massa like the little beasts?” the man asked. “My good dogs have beautiful teeth; if I tell them to, they jump on Massa and tear him to pieces.”
Charley couldn’t hold back a feeling of terror. To die devoured by these animals must be an atrocious end.
“Massa want write? If Massa no agree. Pluto and Fox tear him in pieces. Nobody hear him cry out. Country deserted. Massa want to write?”
“No.”
“Pluto…Fox…Jump!”
The beasts stood up on both sides of the chair and placed their front paws on Charley’s shoulders. Their terrible muzzles, which exhaled a warm and moist breath, opened menacingly in front of the young man’s face. He understood how the man had forced all his victims to write what he required them to. There was no human being capable of submitting voluntarily to such torture.
“Massa want to write?” the man asked again, placing his two hands on the table and staring at the pale and impassive expression of the detective.
“Yes,” said Charley.
“Pluto! Fox! Go to bed.”
The dogs dropped down. Tom Ruby pushed the piece of rough paper he had prepared in front of Charley. Then he untied the detective’s right hand.
“Good. Massa write now.”
The young man really wanted to reach into his pocket to take out a revolver, but Ruby was at his post. He was watching every movement of his prisoner and the two dogs were only waiting for a signal to jump on the unfortunate man.
Charley picked up the pencil and asked:
“What must I write?”
“This: ‘I’m dying by my own hand. I have wasted my fortune in gambling. I can no longer endure living. May everyone forgive me!’ ”
The young man obeyed.
“It’s done,” he said. “Is that all?”
“Yes. If Massa wants to sign, it’s up to him.”
Charley dispensed with that last formality and put down his pencil. Then Tom Ruby tied up his hand again. But the prisoner was able to place his arm in such a way that it would be possible for him to get out of his bonds. His captor didn’t notice that trick. He tightened the knots and put the letter in the detective’s right-hand pocket.
“Everything ready now,” he said. “We go to the Green Pool.”
It had been night a long time. The man had lit a little smoky lamp
which he did not extinguish before leaving the mill with his victim. He shut the dogs up in the kennel and stayed several minutes looking out the window. During this time Charley was trying to untie his hands, but it wasn’t as easy to do as he had imagined.
He hadn’t yet succeeded when Tom Ruby turned around.
“Nobody near here,” he declared. “Massa soon swim in Green Pool.”
While talking, he hoisted Charley over his shoulder. He quickly descended the outside staircase with his living burden and went across the prairie to the edge of the woods. Charley’s hands were hidden from view and the boy continued his efforts to loosen his bonds.
A Desperate Combat
They arrived at the edge of the pond just as Charley Lux finally managed to untie his hands. Ruby had stopped at the place where Ethel King had found the footprints in the afternoon. The night was clear; the Moon spread its silver light over the pond and under the trees. Toby Ruby first deposited the body of the detective’s assistant on the bank. He hadn’t noticed that his victim had his hands free.
“The time for suicide come,” he said. “Since you might be afraid of death, me help by holding head under water.”
He picked up the boy and threw him into the water, while pressing on his neck; but Charley was already prepared to act. He had taken out his knife. He extended his arm and plunged the blade into his adversary’s leg. Tom Ruby jumped backward, letting out a howl of pain and rage. He had turned loose of his victim, who immediately disappeared under the surface.
Charley first dove deeply and cut the bonds holding his feet. He then reached the center of the pond with some vigorous arm strokes and came back to the surface. At the same moment he saw his adversary’s head very near to him. Without hesitating, Tom Ruby had dived into the water to seize Charley, since he didn’t want to let the one who could inform on him escape at any price.
The young detective’s assistant hadn’t counted on that. Therefore his adversary had time to grab him by the throat and squeeze so hard that Charley lost his breath. He nevertheless kept his presence of mind and grabbed the man’s hand and delivered a violent kick. He got what he wanted. The man momentarily let go of his victim and Charley reached the bank with several rapid arm strokes. He lifted his head above the water to search for his enemy, but the surface of the water was mirrored by the Moon and Ruby’s head was nowhere in sight.
Charley hoisted himself cautiously to the bank and hid in the bushes. He remained on alert, still watching the pond, but he couldn’t see his adversary. Either the scoundrel had drowned, or he had reached the bank before the detective. Charley took out his two revolvers and verified that the water had not made them useless. He stayed at his post for 30 minutes and then decided to return to the mill. He could no longer count on Ethel King’s being at the rendezvous agree on. His cousin must be worried and had undoubtedly started to search for the young man.
Charley was very tempted to use the whistle to warn Ethel, but fearing to draw the criminal’s attention, he refrained from doing so. He decided that if the scoundrel had returned to the mill, he would slip up to him and arrest him, kill him if necessary. Ethel had perhaps picked up the trail that had led him to the mill. If so, she should have been drawn by their shouts made during the fight.
The intrepid Charley, a revolver in each hand, went cautiously back to the edge of the woods. He reached it without having noticed anything suspicious. He first watched for some time the grassy slopes that the Moon fully lit. He didn’t want to climb up this way because if Tom Ruby had returned to the mill he could be watching the area around it. He went along the edge of the woods, staying prudently in the shadows, to go around the base of the hill. He finally noticed a small brush-covered ravine which led to the summit. He slipped in there. Charley was doubly cautious. He walked stealthily three quarters of the way through the underbrush. Everything was quiet in the mill; the wings no longer turned. The lamp was still burning in the hideout where the miller had forced his prisoner to write the letter. The young detective hoisted himself to the edge of the ravine, and he was going to stand up, when he heard a noise in the bushes behind him. Tom Ruby rushed at the surprised young man and knocked him over. Some blows of his heavy fist knocked his victim unconscious, and he triumphantly carried to the mill the one he had made prisoner for the second time.
When Charley Lux regained consciousness, he found himself in a strange situation. He was tied to one of the wings of the windmill and, this time, so firmly that he couldn’t budge. The wind was blowing like a storm from the east. His captor was looking out the window.
“Well, how go Massa?” the scoundrel asked when he saw his prisoner open his eyes. “We hope cold bath no hurt Massa. Massa very brave but no match against Tom Ruby.”
“Don’t gloat too soon!” Charley answered. “Punishment’s waiting for you, and you won’t have time to put your dastardly project into action.”
Ruby shook his fist under his prisoner’s nose and shouted:
“If Massa want bet, Massa sure to lose…but me be good to him…Tom has soft heart; he reserve a pleasure for Massa. Massa make a little trip in the air.”
“That’s very kind of you,” replied Charley, who suspected what he meant. “But that kind of distraction doesn’t please me at all.”
“Tom Ruby no ask Massa opinion. Pay attention, Massa! We going begin. Yes, Tom keep a nice pleasure for Massa.”
The man’s head disappeared from the window. Charley began to shout for help at the top of his voice, in hopes of attracting his cousin, but he received no answer. The mill turned slowly on its pivot. Tom Ruby oriented the wings in the wind’s direction. Still several seconds went by; then the wings began to move. Since the wind was blowing like a tempest and the machine was set to full speed, the unfortunate detective began to spin rapidly.
Charley had given up calling out. He had closed his eyes, but vertigo overtook him even so. His temples beat violently. The young man tore at his bonds with all his strength. He would rather have fallen to the ground than endure any longer that horrible torture; but this time Tom Ruby had tied the ropes tight; he remembered his prisoner’s first escape. The eastern sky turned pale and the wings still turned. Charley had lost consciousness at the end of the first hour.
As daylight approached, the wind calmed, the mill’s movement slowed down, and Charley regained consciousness. Nevertheless, the young man was incapable of thinking. His head was dancing; he had the impression that he had had a terrible nightmare, from which he was vainly trying to wake. However, the man, leaning out the window, watched him, laughing and heaping sarcasms on his adversary.
Finally Rescued
What had become of Ethel King?
When she separated from Charley Lux in the woods, she had continued her investigations toward the west, as her assistant had done in the opposite direction. She examined the ground minutely for the slightest tracks. But her search was in vain. She discovered nothing that could put her on the murderer’s track.
She naturally thought that Charley hadn’t discovered anything either, because, if the contrary were true, the young man would have whistled to tell her so. Therefore she continued her vain search until nightfall. Then she went back to the road. The Sun had just set and the Moon was rising. Ethel King was hoping that her aide had preceded her to the rendezvous point at the north edge of the woods, but she didn’t find him there. She waited for him for an hour and then she began to be very worried.
Had something happened to the young man? Had the criminal surprised him? Maybe Charley now lay dead in some ditch.
The young woman, in prey to great anxiety, went back down the road to the pool without noticing anything unusual. She advanced in an easterly direction, her flashlight in her hand. The flashlight threw a rather bright light on the ground, but did not, however, allow the detective to make out the footprints as clearly as during the day. She finally came to the edge of the woods and discovered the signs of the bare feet. Several minutes later, she climbed u
p to the mill.
At the same moment, Tom Ruby was entering the woods by another path with Charley Lux thrown over his shoulders and was carrying the young man to the edge of the Green Pool, where the fight we’ve just described was to take place.
Ethel King came to the top of the hill and without hesitation climbed up the stairs to the mill. Her intention was simply to question the miller and ask him if he had noticed, during the afternoon, a young man at the edge of the woods.
The millstone room was deserted. A door opening onto another room was ajar. Noticing a light, she approached it and knocked. Getting no answer, she pushed open the door. She stopped at the threshold, and, exclaiming in surprise, she immediately guessed what had happened. Her assistant’s soft felt hat lay in a corner of the room. There was paper, a pen, some pencils and ink on the table. And the paper immediately struck Ethel King; she recognized it: it was that on which the supposed suicides had written their letters.
From that instant she knew that the owner of the mill was the murderer. This was where the scoundrel forced his victims to write their lying letters. When the young woman heard the ferocious barking of the dogs in their kennel, she also suspected the way in which the scoundrel terrorized his victims.
She examined the paper. There was no possible doubt; it was what Haring had showed her. The prudent detective thought first of getting rid of the dogs. If the miller came back unexpectedly, the dogs could be a great help to him. The young woman approached the slatted door to their kennel. There were four shots and the dogs’ barking stopped. The beasts, both shot in the head, were dead.
Ethel King, after that execution, proceeded to an investigation of the mill. It was possible that the miller was locked in a hideout with his victim. Ethel found no one in the house. However, she made another discovery which furnished irrefutable proof of the miller’s guilt. She noticed a small cupboard, so cleverly hidden in the wall that only an eye as experienced as hers could have been aware of its existence. The keyhole was miniscule and she had to choose the smallest of her lock picks to open it. The door gave way after long effort. The cupboard contained stacks of bank notes, piles of gold pieces. The detective picked up a bright object which was shining in a corner and found that it was a large diamond.
The Adventures of Ethel King, the Female Nick Carter Page 26