Читать книгу Held for Ransom - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 9

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“Just get a bead on his tires, that’s all,” said Mole firmly. “Don’t bust him up even if he shoots. Them’s Silver’s orders—lay off the bulls. No use gettin’ ’em on our trail right now.”

“O. K. Mole.” Then: “Say, they got speed an’ how! They’re comin’ up fast.”

“Don’t I know it?”

Another tense silence followed during which Skippy dared to open his eyes wide enough to take in the situation. Fortunately, for the moment, both of the men seemed to have completely forgotten about his small and supposedly stupid presence. Their minds were centered on the pursuing car, the road ahead and the probability of some convenient side road which would loom up out of the darkness.

Suddenly, such a road yawned to their left and Mole had swerved the coupe onto it.

They had backed into a thick grove of trees some fifty feet off the narrow country road, doused their lights and were nicely hidden by the time the pursuing car came racing along in the chase. Fortunately, Skippy learned afterward, it was not a fully equipped police car and carried no searchlight.

They soon discovered, however, that the lone trooper carried a small hand light which he was using even then to fairly good advantage. Skippy saw, with beating heart, that he was slowing down considerably and playing his light on the fringe of the grove.

Suddenly, he stopped, switched his lights off and for a tense second, Skippy felt that they were doomed in a dark world of silence.

A twig crackled somewhere not far distant. Once, Skippy had an insane desire to shout out to the trooper but reason whispered to him to be cautious. Sam, he felt instinctively, took life at its face value—not even the life of a boy such as himself.

Skippy’s heart beat so rapidly as the seconds wore on, that he could not even hear the quick nervous breathing of the men beside him. He stirred, discovering that one foot was asleep. Suddenly, he felt Sam’s heavy arm whip across him holding him down.

“Sh!” came the gruff whisper.

Skippy sighed softly, wriggled his foot into a more comfortable position and feigned the soft, regular breathing of a boy deep in sleep.

“Sleep?” questioned Mole eagerly.

“Yeah,” grumbled Sam. “I thought he’d be dumb enough so’s tuh jam us by wakin’ in a spot like this.”

“Sh!” Mole hissed.

Out of the darkness at that moment, the tiny gleam of the light came. It was playing about to the left, then out toward the road again. Sam sighed impatiently and Mole slid down a few inches behind the wheel scraping his shoe against the clutch. To Skippy every sound seemed to echo with a terrifying clarity.

The trooper’s shining puttees gleamed once as he switched the light about in a circle. Skippy saw them plainly. The rest of this state officer was lost in the darkness for he was careful to keep all, save the hand holding the light, out of sight.

But it had to come. Skippy felt it coming. The light suddenly gleamed on the coupe windshield. Then it was extinguished before Sam or Mole could duck their heads.

Sam’s hand fumbled in his right coat pocket.

Skippy could feel the movement and it left him feeling strangely fearful. Mole said nothing, but there was a quick gesture of his hand that must have spoken volumes to his companion. Then they heard a voice—the voice of the trooper.

“Might as well come out, buddies! I got you covered!”

Skippy saw Mole’s arm unloosen the windshield and Sam’s deep gruff voice echoed through the night. “Oh, yeah? An’ maybe you ain’t covered too, fella.”

“Come out or I’ll shoot!” was the peremptory command.

Almost without warning, Skippy saw Mole flash on the headlights, the car started and the trooper was not ten feet away. He raised his gun toward the opened windshield, but Sam raised his hand also and a small weapon was held steadily between the thumb and his long, thick fingers.

Skippy heard no cry, but he saw the trooper’s mouth open wide in astonishment, the gun fell from his hand, and he clutched his arm in obvious pain just as Mole swerved the car out to the road.