CHAPTER X.
A DREADNOUGHT BOY AT BAY.
The Dreadnought Boy's challenge was still vibrating when, from everyside, dark figures seemed to spring. They rushed at him like so manytigers. Ned struck out blindly.
It was hard to distinguish anything in the darkness, but twice in thefirst few seconds of his desperate battle against odds, he felt hisfists encounter some one's features. The feeling gave him a sense ofdistinct satisfaction.
"One! Two!" counted the young man-o'-war's-man grimly, as his fistsshot out right and left like sledge-hammers.
But Ned knew, as well as his opponents, that four to one are almostinsurmountable odds. Already he had knocked two of his foes sprawling,when he was struck a blow from behind that staggered him. But it wasonly for an instant. The next moment he had turned and seized by thethroat the man who had aimed the blow. He shook him as a terrier shakesa rat. He could hear the fellow's teeth chatter, but it was too dark todistinguish features.
In the meantime, his fallen opponents had picked themselves up. Sofar the fight had progressed in ominous silence, save for the deepbreaths and stamping feet of those engaged in it. But now, fury at thisunexpectedly stubborn resistance brought words to the lips of his foes.They were not nice words, and Ned thrilled with a desire to silencetheir utterers, for he was a clean-spoken boy, who hated profanity inany form.
Suddenly, as if by concerted consent, his foes ceased their separateattacks, and massed like a wolf pack preparing to finish its prey.Ned had hardly sensed the new situation and braced himself to meet itbefore they were upon him.
Thud! thud!
The lad's fists met their mark fairly, and once more two of hisopponents reeled back. But this time they did not fall. Instead, theyrallied to the attack.
As if they had been one, all four of his assailants hurled themselveson the Dreadnought Boy. Strive as he would, Ned felt his arms pinionedto his sides, and he was borne down by sheer weight of numbers. Hestruggled with every steel-like muscle in his powerful young body.With teeth set and eyes that flamed, he fought with every fractionof an ounce of strength he possessed. But, with two men hanging likebulldogs to his neck from behind, and two more clinging to his armsand battering him in front, the lad could do nothing. With a sickeningsense of helplessness, he felt a leg slide under his, and totteredbackward.
With his four foes still clinging like leeches to him, Ned felt himselfborne to earth, and then, despite his frantic struggles, a hand wasthrust rapidly into each of his pockets. A cry escaped him for thefirst time--a cry of rage.
The rascals were rifling him of the plans of the pontoon-equippedaeroplane!
All at once a voice struck into the scene. Some one was coming down theroad. At the top of a pair of lusty lungs the approaching individualwas singing:
"A sailor's wife, a sail-or's star should be! Star-r-r-r-r-r should be! Star-r-r-r-r-r should be!"
"Herc!" shouted Ned.
"Ahoy, there!" came the hearty response, as Herc, who had beensauntering along the road, on his way to meet Ned, broke into a run.Something in the accent of Ned's cry had warned him that his comrade'sneed for help was urgent.
"Scatter!" came a sharp voice from one of the hitherto silent waylayersof the Dreadnought Boy.
Like so many leaves before a sharp puff of autumn wind, they instantlydissolved into the night. Ned, dusty, battered and furious, pickedhimself up. As he did so Herc plunged into the dark patch in which thedesperate fight had taken place. He hailed Ned and received an instantresponse.
"What on earth has happened?" he exclaimed.
Ned soon told his story. His voice throbbed with anger as he talked.Ned was slow to wrath, but once aroused he was whole-souled in hisanger, and surely he had justification for his rage.
"The scoundrels!" burst out Herc, "couldn't you recognize any of them?"
"No. They chose the place well. I could hardly tell you if it wasn'tfor your voice."
"I'll bet the hole out of a doughnut that Merritt and Chance hadsomething to do with this."
"I don't know. I hardly know anything I'm so mad. At any rate I musthave marked one or two of them. My knuckles are skinned where I hitthem."
"Let's hope that Merritt and Chance were the two you walloped. If so,we shan't have much difficulty in identifying two of your assailants."
"You talk as if you were certain they had something to do with it."
"I am," responded Herc briefly.
"Tell you what we'll do," said Ned, suddenly, "let's light a match andlook the ground over. Maybe we can find some trace of the fellows'identity. There's one thing sure, they were not common robbers."
"That's evident enough. It was the plans they were after. But who thatknows about them could use them to advantage?"
"That remains to be seen. In the meantime, on second thoughts, I can dobetter than matches. I've got that small electric torch I use about theaeroplane."
"Good. Switch it on and we'll see what we can see."
Ned drew out a small object from his pocket. There was a sharp clickand a bright ray of light shot out. Here and there about the groundthe Dreadnought Boy flashed the tiny searchlight.
"Look here!" cried Herc suddenly.
In triumph he held up a tangled looking object.
"What is it?" asked Ned in a puzzled tone.
"That's easy. It's false hair like the kind we used on the _Manhattan_when we gave that show. The chaps that attacked you were disguised andthis was a part of their makeup."
"I think so, too. But--shades of immortal Farragut!--look here, Herc!"Ned, as he spoke, pounced on a roll of papers lying in the dust at oneside of the road, right under a clump of alder bushes.
"It's the plans!" gasped Herc.
"That's right," rejoined Ned, opening the roll and glancing at itscontents, "they're all intact, too. One of the rascals that took themmust have placed them in his pocket. Then, in pushing into this brushto escape, they were caught and thrown out."
"I guess that's it, and a good thing for us, too. But--gee whiz!"
Without another word Herc plunged into the brush. He fought his waythrough it furiously. Happening to look up while they had been talkinghe had caught the glint of a pair of eyes as the light from Ned's torchreflected in them. One of the men had noted the loss of the plans andhad returned for them. That much was evident. At any rate, Herc, asusual, acted before he thought, and in two bounds was swallowed in thebrush.
Ned, not realizing in the least what had happened, and half inclined tothink that Herc had gone suddenly crazy, followed instantly. Presentlyhe found himself at Herc's side. The freckle-faced lad gasped out a fewdisconnected sentences. Broken as they were, they apprised Ned of whathad happened.
"The rascal must have come back to get the plans," he concluded; "Isuppose he was watching us and waiting his chance to emerge into theroad when the light glinted on his eyeballs."
"Oh, if we could only have captured him!"
"More especially," put in Herc dryly, "as I recognized the man asChance."
"What! You did!"
"Sure. I could swear to it. This is the time they've overreachedthemselves. They tried to steal the plans for some reason best known tothemselves, and failed. They tried to disguise their part in the joband failed. I guess their career in the navy has ended for good and allnow. In the morning we----"
A pair of arms were thrown round Herc's neck from behind. Caught allunprepared, he was carried off his feet in a flash and in a seconda stout cord had been whipped about his wrists confining his handshelplessly behind his back. While this had been going on Ned was servedthe same trick.
In a trice the two Dreadnought Boys were rendered helpless, where aninstant before Herc had been crowing over their triumph.
Somebody aimed a vicious kick at Ned's face which he dodged by rollingover on his side. At the same time a spiteful voice snarled:
"Our career has ended, eh? Well, it looks to me more as if you wererapidly approaching your own finish."
The voice was that of Chance, and his chuckle of triumph was echoed byhis three companions who stood about the recumbent boys, rejoicing inthe bit of strategy which had wrought their undoing.