Читать книгу Radio Boys in the Flying Service; or, Held For Ransom by Mexican Bandits - J. W. Duffield - Страница 5

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The man glared at him sullenly.

“Aw nuttin’,” he snarled. “Can’t a guy even laugh widout you bulls buttin’ in?”

“Don’t get gay now,” warned the chief. “It’ll be easier for you to tell me now than it will when I get you alone with me in the police station.”

This covert hint of a “third degree” was not wholly lost on the thief, who mulled it over in his mind.

“Come across now,” prodded the chief, seeing that he was wavering.

“Well, it’s dis way,” the fellow answered. “It hit me funny when dis young bloke spoke of me boss bein’ satisfied wid ten grands. Dat wouldn’t be chicken feed fur him. He ain’t no piker.”

“What does he mean by ‘grands’?” Dick asked of the chief.

“A ‘grand’ is the underworld slang for a thousand dollars,” explained the chief. “What this rascal is trying to say is that his leader only goes out after big thefts and would regard ten thousand dollars as a small haul. How much did he get away with then?” he asked of his captive.

But the robber had already concluded that he had talked too much, and no amount of threat or persuasion was able to get any more out of him.

“Well,” said the chief at last, “I guess there’s nothing more to be got out of this bird and we’d better be moving. I suppose you boys will be going back in your plane. Lucky you’ve got one to go back with,” he added with a grin. “If that driver had kept his nerve, he’d have smashed the machine into flinders. It was a mighty fine and plucky risk for you to take, and it was the only thing that prevented the whole crowd from getting away. You’ll get full credit for this when I turn in my report.”

“We’re not especially keen for credit, but we sure are glad to have got back some of the bank’s cash,” returned Phil with a smile. “We’ll climb into the old bus and hustle back to Castleton to tell the folks you’re coming.”

“We won’t be any further behind you than we can help,” replied the chief, “and while you’re about it give the sheriff a quiet tip to be ready to help us hustle these fellows into the jail, in case the crowd gets obstreperous. They’ll be feeling mighty ugly, I shouldn’t wonder, for the town thinks a lot of Mr. Weston and this hold up is the rawest stuff that’s been pulled off in this section for a long time.”

“All right,” said Phil, as in company with Dick he climbed to his seat in the airplane, and adjusted his hood, gloves and goggles.

The officers helped turn the plane around so that they could get a fair takeoff from the field, and after a short run the Arrow rose in the air with a whiz and a whirr and pointed her nose toward Castleton.

The Radio Boys were elated and jubilant at the success that had crowned their exploit. The only “fly in the ointment” was the uncertainty as to how much cash the robbers had gotten away with. Naturally, too, they felt regret that the whole band had not been captured. But all in all it had been a pretty good morning’s work, and their hearts beat high with satisfaction. The hum of the motor seemed more musical than ever as the plane sped over hill and dale and river toward its destination.

Soon they came in sight of the old familiar landmarks and began to lay their course for the flying field. They were surprised as they neared it to see that a great crowd had gathered there.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Dick as they swept down to make their landing. “It looks as though the whole town has turned out and then some. The place is black with people.”

“Sure thing,” agreed Phil in surprise. “What’s the big idea, I wonder.”

“It’s radio getting in its fine work,” declared Dick. “The chief has radioed from the first town he came to, and Tom has caught the message and spread the news. See if I’m not a good guesser.”

Because of the crowd, Phil had to figure carefully about making his landing, but the throng made a lane for him and the Arrow came down as light as thistledown. Her short run had barely ended before the crowd surged around the Radio Boys, cheering and shouting and almost pulling them out of the plane in their enthusiasm.

“Have a heart,” protested Phil laughingly, as they mauled and pounded him and his companion. “Don’t wring my hands off. I need them in my business.”

Tom was among the first to greet them, his rotund face beaming with smiles.

“Bully boys!” he cried, “You turned the trick and the town’s wild over you. Oh, I know all about it,” he continued. “I got a radio from the chief and the whole town knew it five minutes later.”

“So you’re the guilty wretch responsible for all this roughhousing,” said Phil as he made a playful pass at him.

“I sure am,” grinned Tom as he ducked, “and if you’d been ten minutes later I’d have had the town band here to meet you. I’ll bet they’re tuning up now.”

In response to the questions showered upon them from all sides, the boys told of the morning’s happenings, and this brought about a thinning of the crowd, who hurried off to the town hall to greet the police when they should arrive with their prisoners. This respite gave the boys a chance to get the Arrow into her hangar and then the trio hastened to Dick’s home to find out how Mr. Weston was faring and to learn how great had been the loss sustained by the bank.

The wounded cashier had been taken to his home from the bank after having received first aid, and was now in bed under the physician’s care. The bullet had been probed for and removed and the wound dressed. The family had the doctor’s assurance that there was absolutely no fear of a fatal result, but at the moment the patient was suffering from shock and loss of blood and could see none but the immediate members of the family. Dick was permitted to see his father for a moment, for it was felt that the news he brought of the recovery of part of the money at least would be of benefit to the sick man, but any further discussion of the matter was forbidden for the present.

After Phil and Tom had expressed their sympathy, they left the house, Dick having promised to rejoin them later, and made their way to the town hall, part of which was devoted to the purposes of a jail. Phil had barely time to hunt up the sheriff and give him the chief’s message, before a roar on the outskirts of the crowd told of the approach of the police auto with the prisoners.

The car came in at rapid speed, and the crowd was forced to give way before it to prevent being run down. But as it slowed up before the town hall, there was an ominous closing in upon the machine, while a murmur ran through the crowd, quickly deepening into a roar.

“Hang them!”

“Lynch them!”

“Let us get at them!”

“Hand them over!”

Several jumped on the running board of the car, but were pushed back by the police, who had drawn their clubs and now stood guard over their cowering prisoners. A determined leader just then would have found plenty of followers in the mob, but fortunately for the cause of law and order, he did not materialize, and before the crowd could proceed to extremities the sheriff with a dozen men whom he had called upon to aid him forced a passage through the mass, and with the help of the police hustled the prisoners into the jail, where the iron doors clanged behind them.

Not till then did the perspiring officials breathe freely. The mob hung about for a while, and threats of a later raid upon the jail were freely bandied about. These, however, were but the vaporings of the more reckless spirits, and before long the crowd began to break up and drift away.

Dutton, the chief of police, having relieved himself of responsibility by turning his prisoners over to the sheriff, proceeded at once to the bank, where the President, Mr. Eldridge, was anxiously awaiting him. Phil and Tom at the chief’s invitation had come with him, and as they mounted the steps of the bank, Dick too came hurrying up.

Together they went into the president’s room, where he was engaged in earnest discussion with some of the directors of the bank. They were cordially received, and Dutton plunged at once into the story of the pursuit and capture of the thieves. He gave full credit to the Radio Boys for the part they had taken and they were warmly thanked by Mr. Eldridge and his associates for their coolness and courage.

Then Dutton turned over the money that had been recovered, and all watched eagerly as the president counted it carefully.

“Ten thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars,” he announced finally.

“I hope,” ventured Dutton, “that that’s about all that the thieves got away with, Mr. Eldridge.”

“I wish it were,” replied the president soberly, “but as a matter of fact their loot amounted to fifty thousand dollars!”

A gasp of astonishment ran round the room.