Radio Boys Loyalty Part 17

"Oh, you don't know me, sure enough. I'm Gus, Tony--Gus Grier. Bill Brown and I are down here to get you. We--, but that must keep. Lie low, old chap. I've got to get away now and go awfully careful, but it'll be all right----"

"Oh, Gus! My friend Gus! You here and for me? I believed the world--but no matter now. Oh, my good friend Gus, you will not never give up? You will--oh, my friend----"

"Go slow, Tony, not so loud! Do you think we would come this far and then go back on you? I must get away now--right off. Lie low."

Gus felt an almost irresistible desire to break open the window or the door at once and get his friend out. Then, if need be, fight their way to safety, but common sense told him that the certain noise of doing such a thing would be heard and perhaps his effort defeated, with great danger to himself, and Tony, too. If there had been but one guard or even two--but three were too great odds.

Back he went to his position, and there he watched for the rest of the day, elated with his discovery of Tony, saddened by the delay, grinning at the thought of the Malatesta and their confederate compelled to watch, almost motionless, for the supposed prowlers.

At last darkness threatened. Those small banditti, the mosquitoes, as b.l.o.o.d.y-minded as the Malatesta, began to sing and to stab. The a.s.sa.s.sin owls made mournful cadences in keeping with the scene and its half-tragic human purposes, while the whippoorwills voiced the one element of brightness and hope.

The young fellow in the narrow, dark, log-walled cabin, with its barred window and padlocked oaken door, had been long disconsolate. But now, for the first time in many days, hope came to him as he walked back and forth, fighting pests, still tortured in mind, fearing failure, wondering, praying, yet proud and never beseeching, waiting for another and perhaps a brighter day.

For three months he had been a prisoner, waking from a fevered sleep after a long illness, his splendid const.i.tution alone serving to doctor him, he had found himself mysteriously at sea, in the locked cabin of a tossing yacht that knew no harbor of rest. He had been denied even the chance to talk to, or to know his jailers. He had managed to keep alive on the rough, often unpalatable food poked under his door. There was no response to his callings, hammerings or threats. A less balanced, hopeful, kindly, gentle fellow would have gone insane.

Then, gagged and bound, he had been dumped about almost like a sack of wheat and landed in this horrible place alongside of which his prison room in the yacht was a palace. Now here for the first time had come a friendly voice, that of more than a friend, indeed, and he had again seized upon hope.

Yes, he would lie low, be patient, hope on and wait.

CHAPTER XXV

STRATEGY

"Bill, Bill, we've found Tony! Saw him a little in the dark and talked to him. We're going to get him out, Bill!" And Gus, after bursting in with this good news, told his chum and old Dan all about it. Then they held a council of war.

It was pretty certain that the Malatesta had no means of radio communication, as they could not have burdened themselves with the apparatus, nor could they have confined their communications to one person. That they were seeking ransom money was also pretty certain, and they were in a position to get it, too.

Bill, Gus and old Dan laid some plans, carefully considered from every angle, and with the impetus of youth to be acted upon at once. Having put their transmitting station in operation, Bill got busy on the wires, and on a wave length of 360 meters, began broadcasting notifications to Mr. Sabaste and to the police relative to Tony's whereabouts.

"Mr. Angelo Sabaste, do not send ransom money. Mr. Angelo Sabaste, do not send ransom money. Please convey this message to Mr. Angelo Sabaste, banker, of New York City, do not send ransom money. Police departments and coast patrol, send swift vessels all along the coast to Lower Point Gifford, and the lower inlet to head off any foray from the sea on the part of those who may have caught this; also to prevent escape of kidnapers from the inlet.

"Send men to surround the point and cut off escape by land along the peninsula north of the inlet; also to watch the lower thoroughfare. Some men meet the senders of this at Oysterman Dan's, in neck of woods above Lower Point Gifford, to raid kidnapers' roost from there, and effect rescue of young Anthony Sabaste.

"Station men and vessels to-night. Watch all landing places around Lower Point. Be prepared for trouble. Kidnapers armed and will shoot. Anthony Sabaste in small cabin in pine woods about one mile north of inlet. Hard place to find. Guarded by three men.

"This is William Brown speaking, at Oysterman Dan's cottage--for Augustus Grier, also. Have situation well in hand. Please radio reply at once."

Bill switched off his batteries and clamped the 'phones of the receiver to his ears. He had to listen in for but a few moments.

"Police Department, City. West Rural Section speaking. We are in direct communication with East State Mounted Force and contingents and will relay, acting in unison. Also in communication with coast patrol who also have your radio, no doubt, and will act independently. We are sending men and will make raid in morning, closing in north of Lower Point. Men sent to Oysterman Dan's house to-night. Coast patrol will also go out to-night. Will advise you personally in the morning. Have Dan send boat for men across thoroughfare to Stone Landing. If men not there by three A.M., go to Possum Beach and wait."

Bill still listened and the message was repeated, almost verbatim; then silence. He communicated the information to Gus and old Dan, and the oysterman went off to tidy up his boat for the trip. Bill and Gus decided to s.n.a.t.c.h a little sleep. Old Dan, who had napped in the afternoon as usual, agreed to wake them before he left at about two o'clock, which he did.

"Bill, I've got a hunch we are going at this thing a little too fast,"

said Gus.

"How too fast? We can't delay at all, can we?"

"But suppose, when the police make their raid, these Malatestas get desperate and mad enough to kill Tony? They're a bad lot. I've a notion we ought to get Tony out of there before----"

"The iron gets too hot, eh? I guess you are right, Gus."

"Look, Bill, here's a scheme. What if we work it this way?" Gus proceeded to outline a plan with every detail of which Bill agreed; and it called for action.

Taking the revolver and some extra cartridges, Bill hobbled along by Gus, who gave him a lift, now and then, piggy-back. The boys made their way south for more than a mile along the thoroughfare swamp edge. Then they turned sharply on a path across the wooded peninsula to the beach, and went another half mile among the dunes. A very tall pine tree against the sky-line gave Gus his bearings. A little below that they stopped, and Bill found a comfortable hiding-place among scrub pines, with the boom of the breakers in his ears and the sea breeze keeping off the mosquitoes.

Gus cast about silently for the path that led in to the kidnapers'

cabin. Finding it with some difficulty in the darkness, he noted certain landmarks and went back to Bill. Agreeing on signals in whispers, Gus went back to the path and struck a match, whereupon Bill fired a shot, and immediately afterward, another. Then Gus swiftly made his way directly toward the cabin, and when near it, called softly:

"h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo, you fellers! It's me, Sam."

There was a very profound silence for a few minutes. Gus called again:

"h.e.l.lo! It's me, Sam. Don't shoot!"

And very much with his heart in his mouth, but still determined, he advanced, crouching low so that a bullet would most likely pa.s.s high over him. Suddenly a figure appeared directly in front of him and a flashlight was thrown in his face for an instant. Gus knew that he had been identified.

"Lay low," he whispered, not forgetting to keep up the dialect. "They're out there, somebody--sneakin' along in the open. I seen 'em an' let fly at 'em an' they shot back, but I run on down the woodses. Git yer gang an' come along so's we kin head 'em off if they start in here."

"How we do that? We stay here an' fight 'em, eh?"

"An' that'll give 'em the lay o' this place. We want t' draw 'em up the beach. Chase along up through the woodses an' come out 'bout a mile above and shoot oncet er twicet. Two of us kin do that an' two kin lay out yan at the end o' the path an' watch fer any of 'em startin' in this away, an' then you kin lead 'em off. See? That's the way the smugglin'

fellers do it."

The plan must have looked good to the fellow still in the darkness; Gus did not know to whom he was talking, but he heard the man walk away rapidly. He waited, as though on pins, and in a moment three figures loomed before him, one voice questioning him again. The boy tactfully repeated his suggestions--then turned back with them as they started forward, evidently agreeing.

One fellow, Gus could see, was rubbing his eyes. All carried guns.

Two men kept to the path that led toward the beach edge of the woods.

Another and Gus went straight on. Presently Gus suggested that they stop and rest awhile; then move on farther up, stop, scatter a little, and listen. He would sneak out into the open, he said, and look around.

There was no danger of his being seen. It would be best to remain thus for an hour or more--perhaps till morning, mosquitoes or no mosquitoes.

A grunt signified agreement.

The boy crept out toward the dunes and on, until he felt sure he could not be heard. Then, with the smooth, hard sand for a track he ran, softly on tiptoe, until once again he came below the tall pine. A low hiss thrice repeated was answered, and he found Bill in the same spot.

"They're all stuck along in the woods yonder," Gus whispered. "If you hear them moving off toward the cabin again, shoot. If they go on, shoot twice. If they come your way, lie low. Here goes for Tony, old scout!"

Gus had some difficulty getting to the cabin from the south side. He missed it once, got too far into the woods, turned, regained the dunes, struck in again and this time started to pa.s.s within a few yards of it, but by merest chance saw the gable end against the sky.

CHAPTER XXVI