Part 34 (1/2)

Half stunned, Jack lay still for some time on the moldy straw and the old newspapers in the coal bin in the cellar. But at length he mustered his strength and rose, rather giddily, to his feet.

”Well, this is the limit of tough luck,” he complained. ”If I don't get out of here before to-morrow, when that steamer sails, the code will have gone for good. If only I'd cut away sooner. Confound that Italian.

He spoiled it all with his stupidity.”

Besides being pitch dark, the place was full of cobwebs. To add to Jack's discomfort, a spider occasionally dropped on him. Suddenly overhead sounded footsteps and voices.

”Somebody lives up there,” he thought. ”If I could only attract their attention.”

He shouted but n.o.body answered, although he tried it at intervals for some hours. At last he gave up and sat down on the pile of straw to think. He was very thirsty and his mouth and eyes were full of coal dust and dirt. The roof of the cellar was so low, too, that in moving about he b.u.mped his head-against the beams.

Suddenly he remembered that he had some matches. To strike a light was the work of a moment. Then he located the door. But all his efforts failed to make it budge. He struck another light and this time he made a discovery.

”Gee whiz, that looks like a trap-door just above me,” he decided.

He raised his hands and the cut-out square in the flooring came up with ease. Jack scrambled up into a kitchen. In one corner was a ladder, no doubt used when the occupants wished to enter the cellar. Through one of the windows daylight was streaming, the gray light of early dawn.

”Great Scott! I've been down there all night,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the boy.

He was considering his next step when a large woman, with stout red arms, came into the kitchen. Her husband had to be at work early and she was about to prepare his breakfast. She had a florid, disagreeable face.

”What are you after doing here?” she demanded, picking up a heavy rolling pin.

”I'm trying to get out of this house. Will you show me the way?”

”Indade and I will not. I'll hand yez over ter the perlice.” She raised her voice.

”Pat! Pat! come here at onct.”

”Phwat's the mather?” came from another room.

”Thare's a thafe forninst the kitchen. Get ther perlice. I'll hold him--he's only a gossoon.”

”Are you crazy?” demanded Jack. ”I was locked in that cellar by some rascals and got out through your trap-door.”

”Tell that to the marines,” sneered the woman, as she made a grab for him.

Jack wrenched himself away and dodged a blow from the rolling-pin. The window was open and it was a short drop to the yard. He darted for the window and made the jump.

”Pat! Pat!” yelled the woman.

Jack leaped over a fence at the back of the yard and found himself in an alley. He ran for his life. Behind him came cries of pursuit but they soon died away. He ran for several blocks, however, and then came to a standstill.

”I guess Ned and Billy went home,” he mused. ”I'd better hunt up Ned. If his father is a Senator he may be able to use some influence to catch these rascals before they get away for good. I wonder what time that s.h.i.+p sails? By the way, I don't know her name.”

At the hotel, to which he went first, he slipped up to his room without attracting much attention and washed off the dirt of the cellar. Then he inquired for Billy and learned that Raynor had telephoned the night before that he was going to stop at Senator Rivers' house and for Jack to come straight over there, if he came in. Jack procured a copy of a commercial newspaper which he knew listed sailings of s.h.i.+ps from all important ports. He turned to the Baltimore section. Half way down the column he found this entry:

”Italian-American Line. S.S. _Southern Star_,--Balto., for Naples, Italy. Sails--A.M. (hour indefinite). Mixed cargo. Ten pa.s.sengers.”