Part 17 (1/2)

”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?”