The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards Part 19

Jack knew that voice. There was no mistake. He paused, dumbfounded, and spun about. Then he started to retrace his steps. The others, pretty well blown, slowed down their pace. As they approached, Jack called:

"I wasn't looking for you, and thought you some of the other fellows.

How did you happen to change your plans and come here?"

Frank started to explain.

But this was not time for explanations. Paddy Ryan, heading a dozen of his men, had seen the four fleeing through the woods and followed. At this moment the pursuers reached the edge of the clearing. The first intimation which any of the five, engrossed in their meeting, had of the near approach of the enemy, was an outburst of bullets, some of which sang unpleasantly close while others kicked up the sand around them. None, however, took effect.

Where the others had come up with Jack was near a corner of the radio plant. All leaped for cover behind it. With a yell of triumph, Paddy Ryan jumped out into the clearing, his men at his heels.

Frank, who carried the captured revolver and spare ammunition taken from the man called Mike, realized it was distinctly up to him to halt the enemy, if possible. He did not want to shoot to kill, although he knew that the others had no such compunctions, especially since Higginbotham must be aware that if they escaped he would be a ruined man, as they would be able to identify him. Nevertheless, the emergency demanded action.

All this pa.s.sed through his mind in a twinkling. Then he peered out from behind the shelter of the radio station, took deliberate aim, and fired. The leading figure, that of Paddy Ryan, stumbled, lurched forward and fell. Some of the others in the pursuing party paused, others came on. Once more Frank fired. A second man, the foremost, fell. It was sufficient to deter the others. While some ran back helter-skelter for the shelter of the woods, others threw themselves p.r.o.ne in the sand, and began to shoot from that position.

"I shot them in the legs," said Frank.

His voice trembled. His legs felt weak, his hands numb. It was with an effort he refrained from dropping the revolver. Like his chums, Frank was a crack shot, for Mr. Temple early had accustomed them to the use of rifle and shotgun, and the previous summer in New Mexico Tom Bodine, their cowboy friend, had given all three valuable instructions in revolver shooting. Nevertheless, to take deliberate aim at a human being was unnerving. It was only the realization that the safety of his comrades hung on his aim that had nerved him to the task and steeled his arm.

"Steady, old thing," said Bob, patting him on the shoulder. Then, turning to Captain Folsom, he added: "Well, captain, where do we go from here? We've got all Long Island ahead of us. I expect we had better start traveling."

"Not at all, Bob," said Jack, unexpectedly. "If we can only hold these fellows off a few minutes more, they'll get the surprise of their lives. I raised Lieutenant Summers by radio. He was close offsh.o.r.e by the greatest of good luck. He's sending a landing party in boats, and I was to meet them at the beach and act as guide."

CHAPTER XVII

RESCUE ARRIVES

Tom Barnum had disappeared. Now he ran up from the rear of the radio station.

"Quick, Mister Frank, with that revolver," he said. "They've split up an' the fellows in the woods are trying to work their way around to take us in the rear. I been watchin' from the back side."

Frank nodded and started to follow. Then he spun around, ran again to his former vantage point, and sent a couple of bullets towards the figures in the sand.

"That'll hold 'em there for a minute," he said.

As he ran after Tom Barnum to the other corner of the station on the side which sheltered them, he refilled the emptied chambers of the precious weapon.

"There," said Tom Barnum, crouching low, and pointing.

Frank tried to follow directions but saw nothing. He pressed the revolver into Tom's hand.

"Don't waste time trying to show me," he said. "If you see anybody, shoot."

Tom took the weapon, glanced along the barrel, and pressed the trigger. A yell of pain was the response. Twenty yards away there was a crash in the bushes, then silence.

"Back to the other corner," said Tom, chuckling, and dashed again to the post from which Frank originally had fired.

Frank sat down, with his back against the wall of the station and laughed hysterically.

"Golly, but this is a game of hide and seek, all right," he gasped.

Again the revolver spoke, a yell followed, and then came a rain of bullets.

"Here they come," cried Tom, and in quick succession he pumped out four more shots.

Howls and shrieks of anguish rose. Tom was shooting with deadly intent. The attempted rush was halted, broken. The desperadoes composing the attacking force could not stand before that deadly aim.

They broke and ran back toward the trees, leaving three figures groveling in the sand.

"One for Mister Frank, and three for me, them two and one back behind," said Tom Barnum grimly, to Bob and Jack, who were peering over his shoulder. "That ain't so bad."

A cry from Captain Folsom, followed by Frank's voice calling urgently, caused the three to spin around. They were just in time to see one man go down under a terrific blow from the doughty, one-armed officer, while Frank leaped in under the arm of a second desperado, upraised to fire, and brought him crashing down with a flying tackle.

"As pretty as I ever saw," muttered Bob. "Old Frank ought to make the All-American team for that."

Quick as thought, having felled his man, Captain Folsom stooped down and wrenched a revolver from his grasp, then spun about on his knee and fired just as a third rounded the corner. The man toppled forward.

By this time Bob and Jack had reached the scene. But the attack from the rear had spent its force. The three most daring evidently had taken the lead. And the way they had been disposed of deterred the others. A half dozen in number, they hung uncertainly in a group along the wall of the radio station.

Captain Folsom helped them make up their minds as to which direction to take by sending several shots over their heads. Without even waiting to reply, they ran for cover toward the trees and bushes at the edge of the clearing.

The man whom Frank had tackled capitulated without a struggle, seeing the fight had gone against him. Frank took his revolver. From the fellow whom Captain Folsom had shot, and who proved to be wounded only in the thigh, Bob obtained a revolver. All except Jack were now armed, and he had the butcher knife which Frank had carried away from the Brownell house, although he laughed as he flourished it.

"The way you fellows treat our friends," he said, "I expect none of them will come close enough to give me a chance to use this."

"Look here," said Captain Folsom, approaching the boys, after having ascertained first that the man whom he had shot had only a flesh wound; "we aren't out of the woods yet. These fellows are determined scoundrels, and they know they can't afford to let us escape. Finding they can't rush us, they will next try to work around through the trees and attack us from this side. I think we had better make a dash around Tom Barnum's corner and get into the radio station."

"But how about my going to the beach to meet Lieutenant Summers?"

asked Jack.

"Our position ought to be evident to him," said Captain Folsom. "He can understand what is going on, and come up cautiously. I can't risk having any of you lads run the gauntlet. I've reproached myself a hundred times already for leading you into danger."

"Nonsense, Captain," said Jack. "We volunteered. And we're safe so far, aren't we?"

The other shook his head with a smile of admiration. These boys were made of manly stuff.

"Come," said he, "there is no time to waste. Any minute we may expect to be peppered from the woods on this side. Here, you two," he added, addressing the two unwounded prisoners, "help your pal and march.

We're going into the radio station."

The men, young, smooth-shaven and looking like what they were, city toughs, were cowed. Without a word, they moved to obey.

"All clear there, Tom?" asked Captain Folsom of Tom Barnum, who had kept up his watch at the forward end of the side wall.

"If we move fast we can make it," Tom replied. "There's n.o.body out here in front but the wounded, an' they're crawlin' to cover."

"Good," answered Captain Folsom. "Now, altogether."