Part 39 (1/2)
”Lane, you're a liar,” replied Bell, thoughtfully. ”I'm sure of that.
But you've got me buffaloed.” He knelt on the floor beside the fallen men and examined each. Swann's s.h.i.+rt as well as face was b.l.o.o.d.y. ”For a crippled soldier you've got some punch left. What'd you hit them with?”
”I'll tell you Chief. I fetched an axe with me to do the dirty job, but I decided I should use a dangerous weapon only on men. So I soaked them with a lollypop.”
”Lane, are you really nutty?” demanded Bell, curiously.
”No more than you. I hit them with something hard, so it would leave a mark.”
”You left one, I'll say. Thesel will lose that eye--it's gone now--and Swann is also disfigured for life. What a d.a.m.ned shame!”
”Chief, are you sure it's any kind of a shame?”
Lane's query appeared to provoke thought. Bell replaced the little automatic pistol he had picked up beside Swann, and rising he looked at Lane.
”Swann was a slacker. Thesel was your Captain in the war. Have these facts anything to do with your motive?”
”No, Chief,” replied Lane, in sarcasm. ”But when I got into action I think the facts you mentioned sort of rejuvenated a disabled soldier.”
”Lane, you beat me,” declared Bell, shaking his head. ”Why, I had you figured as a pretty good chap.... But you've done some queer things in Middleville.”
”Chief, if you're an honest officer you'll admit Middleville needs some queer things done.”
Bell gazed doubtfully at Lane.
”Smith, search the rooms,” he ordered, addressing his patrolman.
”We were alone here,” spoke up Lane. ”And I advise you to hurry those wounded veterans to a hospital in the rear.”
Swann showed signs of recovering consciousness. Bell bent over him a moment. Lane had only one hope--that the patrolman would miss the door. But he brushed aside the curtain. Then he grunted.
”See here, Chief--a door--and somebody's holding it from the inside,”
he declared.
”Wait, Smith,” ordered Bell, striding forward. But before he got half-way across the room the door opened. A girl stepped out and shut it back of her. Lane sustained a singular shock. That girl was Bessy Bell.
”h.e.l.lo, Dad--it's Bessy,” she said, clearly. She was pale, but did not seem frightened.
Chief Bell halted in the middle of a stride and staggered a little as his foot came down. A low curse of utter amaze escaped his lips.
Suddenly he became tensely animated.
”How'd you come here?” he demanded, towering over her.
”I walked.”
”What'd you come for?”
”To warn Daren Lane that you were going to raid these club-rooms to-night.”
”Who told you?”