At The Cave Again

By the time all the boys had washed and dressed, William had breakfast ready. Most of them were tense and impatient, but on the whole, they felt good. Leaving Jack behind to keep guard at the camp and clean up the dishes in the meanwhile, the boys set out for the cave. At their destination, the boys separated, each going to his station where he lay in hiding and watched. As the hours passed slowly and wearily, most of the boys became a little cranky and impatient. Paul decided to go from boy to boy, talk to him for a while and try to calm him.

At noon, Bluff was sent back to camp and Jack returned with sandwiches he had prepared and canteens of ice cold water from the stream. Paul went to each boy in turn and passed out the sandwiches and a drink of water. And again it became a matter of watchful and patient waiting. Jack, lying close to Paul, asked, “You think they’ll come today?”

“It’s hard to tell. But they are about due.”

“Mr. Woods thinks that they will surely appear today.” Pause. Deadly silence except for the breeze fluttering through the branches and leaves. “You know,” Jack added, “this is getting on my nerves already. I’d like to see it come off and be through with it.”

“Patience, Jack,” his friend continued, “you can’t hurry a situation like this.”

Paul moved away and went to keep someone else company for a while.

At about six o’clock, Jack, who was watching the road, was suddenly brought out of his lethargic position. Sprawling on the ground, he thought he heard the sound of a motor. Putting his ear to the earth, he listened for some moments to the rumbling sounds that came to his ear. The car was several hundred yards away yet when he spied it. Quickly and noiselessly, he picked himself up and sprinted away. He came upon Paul and told him the news. Not hesitating in the least, Paul told him where to take up his position and what to do. Then Paul ran on and passed the word for all of them to be on the alert.

Paul returned and took his place beside Jack. As they waited, every second seemed to stretch out into an hour. Those who were in the car—whoever they were—were apparently in no hurry. Finally, after what seemed an endless wait, Paul nudged Jack and pointed out two moving figures. Holding their breaths, they watched and waited. The boys were quite positive that the moving figures would head for the clearing and cross it. Then they were greeted by a surprise—a shocking surprise—that awaited them. But they were disappointed. Jack whispered, “They’re heading this way.”

“Yes. You think they have any suspicion of what’s awaiting them?”

“I don’t think it matters. Our plan takes care of anything that might be different than we expect.”

The boys kept quiet. Two figures passed within five feet of them. Jack began to fidget as the figures were passing. Paul had a hard time controlling him, keeping him from talking. As the two men passed, Jack whispered, “There’s something familiar about the fellow in the lead; something about his walk.”

“I was just going to say the same.”

The boys held their breaths. As the two men approached one of the traps, they stopped. Some whispering went on between them, as though one was explaining something to the other. A minute later, the one who had been doing all the explaining, put his fingers between his lips and gave a low, shrill whistle. Jack wanted to jump up and run over. “The one who whistled is Wallace,” he whispered as Paul held him.

“Most likely is, but let’s wait and make sure.”

There was a pause of a minute or so. Again the man whistled, then they both waved handkerchiefs. Paul and Jack then came out of hiding as they finally recognized Tom Woods and Wallace. Jack was sent to notify the other boys and to instruct them to continue their watch. In the meanwhile, the three of them withdrew to take counsel together. The government agent said, “You boys have it all fixed up here. A man couldn’t get away to save his life. I think you have done marvelously well.”

Paul smiled. “We have laid our plans very carefully,” he answered, “and we hope everything will come off all right.”

“I hope so too.”

Just then an airplane fell out of the sky and dived straight for the ground. Straightening out at about five hundred feet up, the plane circled the field several times. Wallace whispered, “That’s the same plane we told you about. We saw it land here once before. I remember it well.”

Tom Woods barked, “Keep quiet now and don’t move; we may be seen from above.”

“No chance of that, sir,” answered Paul. “From up above they can’t see a thing except the top of the trees. We had better hurry and take our positions before they land.”

With Paul in the lead, the three of them sprinted from cover to cover and took their positions. At the last moment the government agent told the boys to hurry and move away somewhere else—take some other position. If there was any shooting, he didn’t want them to be in line of fire.

The boys moved off. The plane in the meanwhile had glided down to a landing. It was quite a large, powerful ship with a double motor. Two men jumped to the ground. The one in the lead was recognized by the boys as the Chief. Very unconcernedly, the two walked across the clearing and headed directly for the cave. As they came to the edge of the woods, the chief, for no reason and without any provocation as far as it could be determined, whipped a gun out of his pocket and fired across the top of the cave. Tom Woods, who thought that he was firing at one of the boys, sent a bullet whistling past their heads. The trap which the boys had laboriously prepared and set was now a futile gesture. Whereas if they had walked into the trap as set, there would have been no bloodshed; now it seemed inevitable.

The two gangsters now dropped to the ground and sent bullets whistling in a semi-circle. To rise and dash back to their plane was suicide. They would be in the open, a clear and perfect target for Tom Woods’ bullets. On the other hand, dropping to the ground and taking shelter where they did, they forestalled being surrounded by the boys. As for the government agent, there was nothing he could do to obtain a more advantageous position. Of course, he could have one of the boys keep up a withering fire while he crept to their side or their rear. But he was against risking the life of any one of the boys.

For a while only occasional shots were exchanged. Suddenly Tom became aware that the two gangsters had devised a means of escape, if not for both, at least for one of them. The two were separating, moving further apart slowly and gradually. The agent realized that their plan was to separate a certain distance, so that one of them would keep him occupied while the other crept back to the plane. It was a clever and subtle plan and from every indication it appeared that they would succeed. They were also most probably aware that only one man faced them. Under that condition, there was nothing Tom could do that would prevent the one who got back to the plane from returning with help. Or possibly he might bring out of the plane a machine gun, and that would be enough to wipe him out. He became really worried. What could he do to prevent one of them from reaching the plane.

He determined that as long as it was possible for him to do so, he would fire alternately at both racketeers and occupy both of them. He also wondered what the boys were doing. “But,” he thought to himself, “I had better keep from thinking of anything else and concentrate my attention on those two gangsters. I’m positive the boys will be able to take care of themselves.”

Tom noticed that slowly and gradually the gangster on his right was moving backwards, and each time he fired at the moving form, he was answered by the second man, the one on his left. The spasmodic shooting kept up for almost half an hour. Suddenly there was heard the roar of the airplane motor; in an instant, the machine was turning into the wind and taxiing for a take-off. Both Tom Woods as well as the gangsters were so surprised that they almost forgot each other. As the plane was still taxiing across the field, one of the racketeers sent a couple of ineffective bullets after the machine; but the shots did no harm. The plane rose off the ground easily. Tom rationalized to himself, “Whoever it was that escaped with the plane, couldn’t be a friend of theirs, or he wouldn’t have fired at it.”

Tom’s ammunition was running low and he could answer only one shot to his enemy’s three or four. Five or ten minutes after the plane had gotten away, he was again astounded to realize that someone was firing at the gangsters from their rear. “Must be Wallace,” he thought to himself.

And so it was. Paul and he had withdrawn at the behest of Tom Woods. Eagerly they watched the battle. Several times Wallace wanted to use the gun the government agent had given him but Paul held him back. They, too, soon became aware of the manoeuver of the two gangsters to permit one of them to return to the plane. Cautioning Wallace on how to behave himself and what to do, Paul crept away and was soon out of sight. A short while later Wallace heard the roar of the motor and he heaved a sigh of relief as he watched the plane take off. He was positive that one of his comrades was escaping with the plane, though he couldn’t imagine who. As for himself, now was the time to act, he thought; the two were trapped. Moving closer to the edge of the woods and picking out a sound shelter and one that placed him well to the rear of the gangsters, he aimed carefully and fired his first shot.

Now to return to Tom Woods, the government agent. Realizing that someone was attacking from the rear, perhaps it was Wallace or maybe Paul, he tried to trick the gangsters into surrendering, “You better throw down your guns and surrender, you two,” he called out. “That was the signal that my men have arrived. You can’t get away now.”

“We’ll give you hell first,” cried the chief.

“Very well, then,” returned the agent. “I’ll count three. If you don’t surrender, I’ll give my men the signal to blast you to hell. One!”

The smugglers answered with a volley of shots. “Two!” cried Tom.

The gangsters withheld their fire. They waited. “Three!” The word echoed through the stillness of the woods.

“Go to hell!” answered the chief. “How the devil did you ever break your chains and escape, you flatfoot?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” countered Tom.

“Yes, tell me.”

“When I have you in jail. Then I’ll pay you a visit and tell you all about it.”

“I should have cut your throat instead of merely chaining you.”

“Why didn’t you? Soft-hearted or something?”

The chief answered with his gun. Tom raised his voice and cried, loud enough to be heard a mile away, “All right! Shoot to kill.”

He had two guns and he shot from both of them as quickly as he could pull the trigger. Wallace, who heard him, took the cue and also emptied his revolver. The effect was that the two smugglers seemed to be attacked on all sides.

Silence ensued, suddenly broken by a shot coming from a third direction. A piercing cry cut short the echo of the bullet. The chief bounded up from the ground and then fell back again, dead. Tom wondered who it was that had shot. He took advantage of it, however, and called out, “Hey, Smoky, do you want to give up or do you want to join your chief?”

There was a pause. Smoky answered, “I want to give up. Tell your men not to fire.”

Tom cried out, “Hold your fire!” To the gangster, he said, “Now, drop your gun and stand up.” The smuggler complied. “Raise your hands above your head. Now turn around. You make one move and you’ll go home in a box.”

Smoky complied willingly. The government agent dashed from one cover to another, his gun ready for action should the smuggler change his mind. Finally, stepping forward softly, he came up behind the gangster. Taking a short piece of rope that he carried in his pocket, the agent tied the smuggler’s hands behind his back. Just then Wallace stepped forth out of the woods, and handed Tom several yards of sturdy rope which the agent used to tie the smuggler’s hands and feet. That done, he turned to the boy and said, “I think it’s all right now to get the boys together.”

Wallace nodded. He whistled three times and the boys crept like shadows through the woods. They met in front of the cave. The government agent looked at the boys, their expressions still set and determined and their eyes full of wonder and anxiety. He laughed. “Everything is all right now, boys. You may relax.” He turned to Paul and asked, “Where did you get that rifle?”

Paul scrutinized his weapon. “Inside the cave,” he answered. “Bullets too.”

“And you were the one that shot the chief?”

Paul looked away embarrassed. “I was terribly surprised to see him topple over. Because I didn’t even aim at him.”

The boys and the government agent joined in laughing heartily. “So!” Tom muttered, twisting the words into a humorous expression, “You don’t aim but you hit the bull’s eye just the same!”

Their laughter was interrupted by the roar of an airplane overhead. They watched the machine lose altitude gradually and continually circle around and around. When it was at about a thousand feet, Wallace exclaimed, “It’s the same machine.”

“Who escaped with the plane, by the way?” asked Tom Woods.

The boys looked at each other. “Who is missing?” asked Paul.

“William.”

“Jack.”

“Anyone else?”

“Bluff, but he’s at camp.”

“Then it must have been William and Jack who are in the plane,” Paul stated.

“Then you had better wave to them. Signal them to land,” said the agent.

They all ran to the clearing and waved. As the huge machine showed that it was going to land, all of them retreated, so that the plane might have a perfectly clear space in order to land. Tom remarked, “I didn’t know you had aviators among your group.”

Wallace informed him, “Six of us are pilots.”

“And you never told me!” The agent said that he was angry that they had kept the information from him. “In the meanwhile,” he called out, “you boys take shelter. It doesn’t pay to take chances and we really don’t know who is in the plane.”

The boys took up hiding positions and watched the machine descend to a perfect landing.