The Perils of Pauline Part 46

Harry stood up. The dog, with another volley of barks, started towards the gate. Harry followed instinctively. The terrier dashed ahead of him, reached the, gate, returned, renewed the appealing barks, and again led the way.

In another minute Harry was following the urgent little guide. He was thoroughly stirred now. As the dog returned to him the second time, with its appealing yelps, he quickened his speed.

After traversing five miles of dust-laden road they reached a certain house on the thoroughfare, which still carried the dignity of "Myrtle avenue."

The dog rushed up the steps. Harry, following closely, was surprised to find the door was ajar. He entered and found himself in the cellar pa.s.sageway.

A sound outside made him grasp the broken rope on the collar of the dog. It was an automobile wheezing to a stop and it was followed by the sound of voices. The outer door opened. Harry drew the dog aside into the darkness and held its muzzle tight.

Four men entered. One rapped on the wall and the panels opened softly. The man went in.

Harry's hand had fallen on a slim stick as he stooped in the darkness, and he slipped the stick into the aperture between the folding doors.

He carried the dog to the outer door and thrust it through. Then he came back.

"Who is the woman?" asked a gruff voice.

"She does not concern you. Have you distributed all of the coins?"

"All but $5,000. She's a peach, ain't she?"

The door crashed at their heels. Harry was in the room. He had gripped Wallace by the throat before the man could stir. The others backed toward their hidden weapons. Shots blazed in the room but the smoke was protection for Harry, swinging wildly at whomsoever he saw.

"You're there, Polly?"

"Yes," she gasped, tugging at her bonds in desperation. She was almost free.

Harry had Wallace at his feet and Wallace's gun was in his hand. He blazed blindly through room. A shriek told of one man gone.

Pauline felt strong hands grasp her. She was whisked through the door; through the outer door and away, into the fresh air, and into the waiting automobile. She felt Harry's hot breath on her fore head as they sped in flight.

There was clamor behind them for a moment car was starting. Then came only the thrash of footsteps through the gra.s.sy road as the coiners rushed to their own machine.

One stern command reached the ears of Pauline and Harry as they sped on:

"It's your lives or theirs. Get them or kill yourselves."

"It's no use, Polly. Come," cried Harry, after a time.

His voice sounded grim, peremptory. The machine with a sudden swerve had gone almost off the road with an exploded tire. It was only Harry's powerful hand that had saved them from wreck.

But as he helped Pauline out and led her on a run into the forest he heard the sound of the pursuing machine coming to a stop and the tumult of voices behind them. He knew that one peril had only been supplanted by another.

"Where--Where are we going, Harry?"

"The Gorman camp--if we can make it; if we can reach the river."

"There's the old quarry," she exclaimed as they came out on the crest of a blast-gnarled cliff overlooking a stream. "I know their camp is near the quarry."

"But on the other side of the river. Don't talk; run," he pleaded, leading her down a footpath that traced a winding way over the face of the cliff into the quarry.

In the shelter of the rocks there stood two small buildings about five hundred yards apart. One was the old tool house of the deserted quarry. The other was a hunter's hut, evidently newly built.

A commanding cry came from the top of the cliff.

"Halt or we fire!"

They ran on. A shot echoed and a bullet flattened itself against the stone base of the quarry not two yards from Pauline.

"In here--quick," said Harry, dragging her to the hunter's lodge and thrusting her through the open door. There was another shot and the thud of another bullet as he slammed the door.

"It looks like a fight now, Polly," he said, as he' moved quickly around the hut. "And thank Heaven--here's something to fight with."

From a rack in the wall he lifted down a Winchester rifle and a belt of cartridges. "Get into the corner and lie down," he ordered.

"No, give me the revolver," cried Pauline.

She did not wait for his protest, but drew from hilt coat pocket the pistol he had wrested from Wallace.

For an instant he looked at her with mingled admiration, love and fear. He opened the little window of the hut, aimed and fired three shots at the group of six men who were running down the cliff path.

"Into the tool house," ordered Balthazar, stopping only for a glance at one of his fellows who had fallen. The five gained the workmen's hut and burst the door open. Immediately from the air hole and the wide c.h.i.n.ks in the sagging walls came a blaze of shots.

A small white dog ran down the path into the quarry, but no one saw it.

Balthazar was searching the tool-house. "Ha!" he exclaimed suddenly.

"That is what we want!" He lifted from the floor a box of blasting powder. But the next instant he dropped it and sprawled, cursing, beside the half-spilled contents. Another man, shot through the body, had fallen over his leader.

Balthazar quickly recovered himself. He whisked about the hut and found a coil of fuse. The shots were still dinning in his ears while he fashioned, with the powder and the box and the fuse, a bomb powerful enough to have shattered tons of imbedded stone.

"Stop shooting," he commanded. "Here's a better way!"

As he suddenly threw open the door and dashed out, he nearly fell over the dog whining in terror. But Balthazar kept on. In a better business--with a heart in him--he would have been counted among the bravest of men. Running a swaying, zigzag course, in the very face of the fire of Harry and Pauline, he reached the hunter's hut and dropped the bomb beside it.

He did not try to return. With the long fuse in his hand he moved into shelter behind the hut, struck a match, lighted the fuse, and fled toward the river.

After him ran the small white dog.

Balthazar turned and uttered a scream of rage. He dashed at the animal, which dodged and pa.s.sed him. In its teeth it held the bomb he had just laid at the risk of his life. The fuse was sputtering behind as the dog fled.

Balthazar pursued desperately. The path to the river led through a narrow defile of rock. But the beast was not trapped at the water's edge as the Gypsy had expected. It took to the water with a wide plunge.

Balthazar turned away, cursing. He rushed back to the huts. The guns and pistols were silent. He picked up from the side of the path a huge piece of wood. As he neared his companions, he shouted:

"Come out! Rush them, You cowards! Follow me!"

Harry fired his last two shots and two men fell. Pauline had long ago emptied the revolver.

Three men came on. There was a crash as the log in Balthazar's mighty hands beat down the door and he staggered through.