The Riddle of the Frozen Flame

  CHAPTER XXIV

  IN THE DARK

  Better men than they might have quailed in such a predicament. Here theywere, at ten o'clock at night, shut in an underground passage that ledheaven only knew where, and with, to say the least of it, small chance ofescape. They might stay there all night, but the morning would probablybring release and--discovery. It was a combination which brought to themvery mixed emotions.

  Black Whiskers, should he be their rescuer might at once assume anentirely different role--would most likely do so, in fact. There was agrim element in this game of chance which they would just as soon hadbeen absent.

  Well, here they were, and the next thing would be to try their hands atescape on their own account. Perhaps the trap-door hadn't been tightlyfastened down. It was a chance, of course.

  "We'll try the trap-door end first, lad," said Cleek. "If that doesn'twork we'll have a go at the other, but somehow you must get to the docksby midnight. You may learn the whole secret there, and it would be theworst luck in the world if you missed the chance; you mustn't. Come on."

  "I seconds that motion," threw in Dollops, though in a somewhat forlornvoice. "I kin just imagine what it must be like to be a ghost tied up ina fambly vault, an' it fills me with a feelin' of sympathy for themcreeturs wot I never felt before. Like a blooming messlinoleum this is!"

  "Mausoleum, you grammatical wonder!" responded Cleek, and even in hisanxiety he could not refrain from a laugh.

  "Well, mausoleum or muskiloleum makes no difference to me, sir. WhatI wants ter know is--'ow do we get out of this charmin' little countryseat? Try the trap-door, you ses. Right you are!"

  He was up the rough steps like a shot, forgetful of the fact that, thoughthe door might be closed, there might also be others strolling along inthat secluded spot. Cleek came up now, behind him, and with a caution ofsilence steadied himself upon the step below, and pressed his shoulder upagainst the heavy door. He pushed and shoved with all his might, whileDollops aided with every ounce of strength in his young body.

  The door responded not one whit. Black Whiskers had done his work welland thoroughly, possibly as an object-lesson to the absent Jenkins. AndJenkins, by the way, was the name of Cleek's new-found friend of thefactory. H'm. That was cause for thought. Then Jenkins was more "in theknow" than he had given him credit for. Possibly Black Whiskers knewalready of their conversation at dinner-time. He'd have to close down onthat source of information, at any rate--if they ever got out of thisbusiness alive.

  These thoughts passed through Cleek's brain even while his shoulders andhis strength were at work upon the unresponsive door. Only failure markedtheir efforts. At last, breathless and exhausted from the strain, Cleekdescended the steps again. He listened, and, hearing nothing, signalledDollops to follow him.

  "They must have got in somewhere, and here's hoping it wasn't throughthis trap-door," he said evenly. "We'll see about it anyway. Unless theywere as careful with the door at the other end. It's a sporting chance,Dollops my lad, and we've got to take it. I'll use my torch unless wehear anything. Then we'll have to trust to luck. Heaven alone knows howfar this blessed affair runs on. We'll reach London soon, if we go onlike this!"

  "Yus, and find ourselves in Mr. Narkom's office, a-burrowin' under 'is'Ighness' desk!" finished Dollops, with a little giggle of amusement."And 'e wouldn't 'arf be astonished, would 'e, sir?... Crumbs! but thechaps wot made this bloomin' tube did their job fair, didn't they? Itgoes on forever.... Whew! I'm winded already."

  "Then what you'll be by the end of this affair, goodness knows, my lad!"responded Cleek, over his shoulder. He was pressing on, hugging the wall,his eyes peering into the gloom ahead. "It seems to be continuing forsome time. Hello! here's a turning, and the question is, shall we gostraight on, or turn?"

  "Seems as if them two blighters came round a turnin', judging from thenearness of their voices, sir," said Dollops, with entire sense.

  Cleek nodded.

  "You're right.... More sacks. If I wasn't so anxious to get out of thisplace so that you shouldn't be late for your 'appointment' with ourfriend Black Whiskers, I'd chance my luck and have a look what was in'em. But there's no time now. We don't know how long this peculiarjourney of ours is going to last."

  They pressed on steadily along the rough, rudely made floor, on and onand on, the little torch showing always the few feet in front of them,to safeguard them against any pitfalls that might be laid for the unwarytraveller. It seemed hours that they walked thus, and their wonder atthe elaborateness of this extraordinary tunnel system grew. There wereturnings every now and again, passageways branching off from the main oneinto other patches of unbroken gloom. And it was a ticklish job at best.At any moment someone might round the next corner and come upon them, andthen--the game would be up with a vengeance. At Dollops's suggestion theyfollowed always the turnings upon the right.

  "Always keep to the right, sir, and you'll never go far wrong--that'swhat they teaches you in Lunnon. An' that's what I always follows. It'sno use gittin' lost. So best make a set rule and foller it."

  "Well, at any rate there's no harm in doing so," responded Cleek a littleglumly. "We don't know the way out and we might as well try one plan asanother. Seems pretty well closed up for the night, doesn't it? Itcertainly is a passage and if the door at the other end is impassableafter all this wandering, I'll, I'll--I don't know."

  "Carn't do no good by worritin', sir. Just 'ave to carry on--that's allwe _kin_ do," responded Dollops, with some effort at comfort. "There'ssummink in front of us now. Looks like the end of the blinkin' cage,don't it? Better investigate afore we 'it it too hard, sir."

  "You're right, Dollops."

  Cleek stepped cautiously forward into the gloom, lighting it up as heprogressed, the rays of his tiny torch always some five feet ahead ofhim. And the end it proved to be, in every sense of the word. For here,leading upward as the other had done, was a similar little flight ofclay-hewn steps, while at the top of them--Cleek gave a long sigh ofrelief--showed a square of indigo, a couple of stars and--escape at last.

  "Thank God!" murmured Cleek, as they mounted the rough steps and came outinto the open air, with the free sky above them and a fine wind blowingthat soon dispelled the effects of their underground journey. "Gad! it'sgood to smell the fresh air again--eh, Dollops? Where on earth are we? Isay--look over there, will you?"

  Dollops looked; then gasped in wonder, astonishment, and considerableawe.

  "The Flames, guv'nor--the blinkin' Frozen Flames!"

  Cleek laughed.

  "Yes. The Flames all right, Dollops. And nearer than we've seen 'em, too!We must be right in the middle of the Fens, from the appearance of thoselights, so, all told, we've done a mile or more underground, which isn'tso bad, my lad, when you come to look at the time." He brought out hiswatch and surveyed it in the moonlight. "H'm. Ten past eleven. You'llhave to look sharp, boy, if you're to get to the docks by twelve. We've agood four miles' walk ahead of us, and--what was that?"

  "That" was the sound of a man's feet coming swiftly toward them; they hadone second to act, and flight over this marshy ground, filled with pitholes as it was, was impossible. No; the best plan was to stay where theywere and chance it.

  "Talk, boy--_talk_," whispered Cleek, and began a hasty conversation in ahigh-pitched, cockney voice, to which Dollops bravely made answer in thebest tone he could muster under the circumstances.

  Then a voice snapped out at them across the small distance that separatedthem from the unseen stranger, and they stiffened instinctively.

  "What the hell are you doing here?" it called. "Don't you know that it'snot safe to be in this district after nightfall? And if you don't--well,a pocketful of lead will perhaps convince you!"

  From the darkness ahead of them a figure followed the voice. Cleek coulddimly discern a tall, slouchy-shouldered man, clad in overalls, with acap pulled down close over his eyes, and in the grasp of his right handa very businesslike-looking revolver.

  Cleek thoug
ht for a moment, then plunged bravely in.

  "Come up from the passage, sir," he responded curtly. "Loadin' upternight, and some fool locked t'other end before me and my mate 'ere 'adfinished our work. 'Ad to come along this w'y, or else spend the rest ofthe night dahn there, and we're due for loadin' the stuff at the docks atmidnight. Master'll be devilish mad if 'e finds us missin'."

  It was a chance shot, but somehow chance often favours the brave. Ittold. The man lowered his revolver, gave them a quick glance from head totoe, and then swung upon his heel.

  "Well, better clear out while there's no danger," he returned sharply."Two other men are on the watch-out for strangers. Take that short cutthere"--he pointed to the left--"and skirt round to the road. Quarter ofa mile'll bring you. Chaps at your end ought to see to it that none ofthe special hands stray up this way. It's not safe. Good-night."

  "Good-night," responded Cleek cheerily. "Thank you, sir;" and, takingDollops's arm, swung off in the direction indicated, just as quick as hisfeet could carry him.

  They walked in silence for a time, their feet making no sound in themarshy ground, when they were well out of earshot--Cleek spoke in a lowtone.

  "Narrow shave, Dollops!"

  "It was that, sir. I could fair feel the razor aclippin' a bit off mechin, so ter speak. 'Avin' some nice adventures this night, ain't we,guv'nor?"

  "We certainly are." Cleek's voice was absent-minded, for his thoughtswere working, and already he was beginning to tie the broken threads ofthe skein that he had gathered into a rough cord, with here and there agap that must--and should--be filled. It was strange enough, in allconscience. Here were these underground tunnels leading, "if you kept tothe right," from a field out Saltfleet way, to the very heart of the Fensthemselves. And what went on here in these uninhabited reaches of themarshland? Nothing that could be seen by daylight, for he had traversedevery step of them, and gained no information for his pains. Thereforethere could be no machinery, or anything of that sort. H'm. It was a bitof a facer, true; but of one thing he was certain. Somehow, in some way,the Frozen Flames played their part. That factory at Saltfleet and thefishing boats and the Fens were all linked up in one inexplicable chain,if one could only find the key that unlocked it. And what was a man doingout there at night, with a revolver? What business was he up to? And hehad said there were two others on the look-out, as well.

  Cleek pulled out a little blackened clay pipe, which was part of hismake-up as Bill Jones, and, plugging it with tobacco, began to smokesteadily. Dollops, casting a sideways glance at his master, knew whatthis sign meant, and spoke never a word, until they had left the Fensfar behind them and were well on their way toward the docks, and the"appointment" with Black Whiskers at twelve o'clock. Then:

  "Notice anything, Dollops?" Cleek asked, slewing round and looking at theboy quizzically.

  "How do you mean, sir?"

  "Why, when you got to the top of those little steps and came out into theFens."

  "Only the Frozen Flames, sir. Why?"

  "Oh, nothing. It'll keep. Just a little thing I saw that led me a longway upon the road I'm trying to travel. You'll hear about it later.Time's getting on, Dollops, my lad. You're due with your friend BlackWhiskers in another ten minutes--and we're about that from the dockyard.Wonder if there'd be any chance of me lending a hand?"

  Dollops thought a moment.

  "You might try, sir--'twould do no 'arm, anyway," he said after a pause."Pertickler as you're my mate, so ter speak. Ought ter be able to workit, I should think.... Look. Who's a-comin' now? If it ain't ole BlackWhiskers 'imself!"

  And Black Whiskers it was, to be sure. He lounged up to them, hands inpockets, hat pulled well down over his eyes, a sinister, ugly figure. Hehad an "air"--and it was by no means a pleasant one.

  "Hullo, youngster!" he called out in a harsh voice. "Been seein' thecountry--eh? Better fer you and yer mate if yer keeps yer eyes well onthe ground in this part uv the world. Never meddle in someone else'sbusiness. It don't pay." His voice lowered suddenly, and he jerked athumb back over his shoulder. "Mate on the square with you, I s'pose?Comin' along now?"

  "Bet yer life I am!" responded Dollops heartily, giving him a significantwink. "'Course I ain't said nuffin' ter ole Bill abaht what you tole me,but I know 'e's a cute un. No flies on ole Bill, guv'nor, give yer meoath on that. What abaht it, now? Shall us bring him along too? Just asyou ses, guv'nor, seein' as you're the boss, but 'e's a strong fellow ismy mate--and 'is mouth's like a trap."

  Black Whiskers switched round in his slouchy walk, where he had fallen instep beside Dollops, leaving Cleek on the boy's right hand, and gave the"mate" a searching look under black brows. In the darkness, with just athread of moonlight to make patterns upon the black waters and etch outthe outline of mast and funnel and hull against the indigo, Cleekrecognized that look, and set his mouth grimly. He'd seen it once before,upon that night when this man had stolen into his room and tried to knifehim.

  "Where're you off to, matey? With all your fine secrets? I'd like toknow!" he said jokingly, digging Dollops in the ribs, and giving a loudguffaw. "Some girl, I suppose."

  "Somethin' uv more account than women, I kin tell ye!" threw in BlackWhiskers roughly. "'E's going ter help me with a little work--overtime iswhat 'e'll get fer it. If yer willin' ter lend a 'and, overtime you'llget, too. But you'll keep yer mouth shut, or clear. One or t'other. It'sup ter you ter choose."

  Cleek laughed.

  "Call me a fool, matey--but not a damned fool!" he said pleasantly. "BillJones knows what side 'is bread's buttered on, I kin tell yer! Soft joblike this one wot we've nicked on ter ain't goin' ter slip through 'isfingers fer a little tongue-waggin'. I'm on, mate."

  "Righto."

  "What's the job?"

  "Loadin' up boats fer cargo."

  "Oh!... Contraband, eh, matey?"

  "That's none uv yer business, my man, and as long as you remembers that,you'll 'old yer job; no more, no less."

  "Beg pardon, I'm sure. But I bin in the same sort uv thing meself--out inJamaica. Used ter smuggle things through the customs. Nifty business itwere, too, and I almost got caught twice. But I slipped it somehow. Justloadin' is our game, then?"

  "_Jist loadin'_," responded Black Whiskers significantly. "'Ere we are.Now then, get ter work. See them tubings over there? Well, they've got tobe carried over to that fishin'-smack drawn up against the dock. There'ssix of 'em goin' ternight, and we've got ter be quick. Ain't as easy asit looks, mate, but--that's not your business neither. Get ter work!"

  They got to work forthwith, and turned to the pile of electrical tubingswhich was built up against the side of the dock wall, twice as high as aman's head. A pale lantern swung from the edge of the same wall, abovethem, hanging suspended from a nail; another hung on the opposite sidefrom a post. By the light of these two lamps they could see a knot ofmen assembled in the centre of the dockyard, talking together in lowwhispers, while down below, at the water's edge, rocked a fleet offishing boats awaiting their mysterious cargo. One could hear the menstirring restlessly and shifting sail as they waited for the task tobegin.

  Then the word was given in a low, vibrant voice, and they went to work.

  "Easy job this, matey," whispered Dollops as he and Cleek advanced uponthe stack of tubings and each started to lift one down. "I ... Gawd'struf! _ain't_ it 'eavy! Lorlumme! Now, what in blazes--?"

  Cleek put up a warning finger, and shouldered the thing. Heavy itcertainly was, though of such fine metal that its weight seemedincredible. And when one knew that these things carried electricwiring.... Or _did they_?... Never was made an electric wire thatwas as heavy as that.

  Cleek carried one of these tubings to the dock's edge, with the aid ofDollops handed it over into the hands that were outstretched to receiveit, and went back for another one. Back and forth and back and forth theywent, lifting, carrying, delivering, until one boat was loaded, andanother one hove into sight in its place. He watched the first one's slowprogress out across the murky w
aters for a moment, making a pretence ofmopping his forehead with his handkerchief meanwhile. It was loaded_below_ the water-mark! It hung so low in the water that it looked a meresmudge upon the face of it, a ribbon of sail flapping from its slendermast.

  Electrical tubings, eh? Faugh! a pretty story that....

  Two boats were filled, three, four.... A fifth came riding up under thevery nose of the last, and settled itself with a rattle of chains andbumping of sides against the quay. That, too, was loaded to its veryedge, and took its way slowly out beneath their eyes. The sixth took itsplace after its fellows.

  For a moment or two the sweating men ceased in their work, and stoodwiping their faces or leaning against the dock wall, talking in lowwhispers.

  Cleek and Dollops stood at the quayside, listening to the water lappingagainst the iron girders, and straining their eyes to catch a lastglimpse of the fleet of fishing boats. Of a sudden from out the blacknessothers appeared. Old Black Whiskers gave a muttered order, and like awell-drilled army the men were ready again, this time flocking to theside of the quay as the boats rode up, and waiting for them,empty-handed. Cleek turned to the nearest one, and spoke in a low-tonedvoice.

  "What now, matey? I'm new at this gyme."

  "Oh--unloadin'. Usual thing. Faulty gauge. Don't never seem as though thefactory kin get the proper gauge fer those tubin's. All the time I bin'ere--nigh on to two years--it's bin the same. Every lot goes out, somecomes back again with a complaint. Funny thing, ain't it?"

  "Yus," responded Cleek shortly. "Damn funny." It certainly was.Unless ... he sucked in his breath and his lips pursed themselvesup to whistle. But no sound came.

  And the work of unloading began.