Ted Strong's Motor Car

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE LODGING-HOUSE BATTLE.

  "What aire ye goin' ter do with ther blamed thing, now yer got it?"asked Bud, as they sped across the Eads Bridge into St. Louis.

  "I haven't made up my mind yet. It certainly doesn't belong in thistown, and if we use it here we will have to get a local license."

  "Jumpin' sand hills, yer not goin' ter run it yere?"

  "Why not?"

  "Whoever owns it is li'ble ter come erlong some day, an--"

  "Then I'll give it to him, if he can prove it is his, but I don't thinkit will ever be claimed."

  "How's that?"

  "Because the owner is a thief, and if he finds it is in the hands of anofficer he will let it go rather than face an investigation. Besides, Ineed it."

  "Ted Strong, aire yer goin' dotty over them derned smell wagons, too?"

  "No, I can't say that I am, but if I lived in a town like this, andcould afford it, you bet I'd have one."

  "But where aire yer goin' ter keep it? We shore can't take it up ter ourroom."

  "Not exactly," laughed Ted. "You forget that we have friends in thisman's town."

  "Not a whole heap."

  "What's the matter with Don Dorrington?"

  "By ginger, that's so. Ther young feller what was with us down in Mexicowhen we found ther jewels and things under ther president's palace."

  "Yes, and we're heading right for his house now."

  "What fer? Goin' ter try ter git him inter trouble, too?"

  Ted piloted the machine through the thronged downtown streets, andcoming at last to Pine Street Boulevard, he let her out, and wentskimming over the smooth pavement until he came to Newstead Avenue, andwas ringing the bell of Don Dorrington's flat before the astonished Budcould recover his breath from the swift ride.

  Dorrington himself came to the door, having looked through the windowand seen Ted arrive.

  "Well, by all that's glorious," exclaimed Don, as he grasped Ted by thehand. "Where are you from, and why? Hello, Bud, you old rascal! Get outof that car and come in. Where did you get the bubble?"

  Ted and Bud entered the house and were taken into Don's workroom, wherehe was soon put in possession of the facts concerning the motor car,although Ted said nothing about the real object of his visit lo St.Louis.

  "Well, what can I do for you?" asked Don.

  "Have you a place where I can store this car for a while?" asked Ted.

  "I sure have," said Don. "You can run it right into the basement fromthe back yard. When these flats were built it was intended that thebasement be used as a garage, but so far none of the tenants have showna disposition to get rich enough to buy one. No one will be able to getthe machine out of there,"

  "That's the only thing I fear," said Ted. "It's a cinch that the owner,if he is a thief who has escaped with a pot of money, as I stronglysuspect, will have his pals try to get it back. And I don't want them toget it until I have used it to try to trace them."

  "I'll bet a cooky ther feller with ther checked suit wuz after thermachine himself," said Bud. "When we eloped with it he came holler in'after us ter bring it back, but we gave him the glazed look an' left himfannin' ther air in our wake."

  The boys rolled the motor car into the basement, which was securelylocked. Then Ted and Bud returned to town on a street car.

  As they got closer to the downtown section, they could hear the shoutsof the newsboys announcing an "extra" newspaper in all the varieties ofpronunciation of that word as it issues from the mouths of city"newsies."

  "Wonder what the 'extra' is all about?" said Ted.

  "Oh, same old thing, I reckon," said Bud. "'All erbout ther turribuldisaster.' An' when yer buys a paper yer see in big letters at ther top,'Man Kills,' and down below it, 'Mother-in-law!' But in little typebetween them yer read ther follerin', to wit, 'Cat to spite.' I've beenstung by them things before."

  "I'm going to buy one, anyway," laughed Ted. "I don't mind being stungfor a cent."

  He beckoned to a newsboy, bought a paper, and opened it.

  "What's this?" he almost shouted.

  Great black letters sprawled across the top of the page.

  "Express Messenger Found Dead," was the first line, and below it was theconfirmation of Ted's belief that a great robbery had taken place. Itwas "Forty Thousand Dollars Taken from the Safe."

  "There's the owner of the abandoned automobile, the fellow who boardedthe train with the heavy grip," said Ted to Bud, who was staring overhis shoulder.

  The article following the startling headlines told the circumstances ofthe robbery.

  The train that entered the Union Station at six o'clock that morning hadbeen robbed in some mysterious manner between a junction a shortdistance out of St. Louis, where the express messenger had been seenalive by a fellow messenger in another car. When the car was opened inthe station, after being switched to the express track, the messengerwas found lying on the floor of the car with a bullet through his head.The safe had been blown open and its contents rifled.

  The express company had kept silent about the murder and robbery untillate in the day, when the body of the messenger was found by a reporterin an undertaker's establishment.

  As for the other details, a policeman at the Union Station said that hehad noticed a man come out of the waiting room carrying a grip thatseemed more than ordinarily heavy. A red motor car was waiting outsidethe station, and the man got into it and drove away at a fast pace. Thepoliceman had not noticed the number on the car.

  How the robber and murderer got into the express car was a mystery, asthe car was locked when it was switched into the express track, andthere were no marks of a violent entry on the outside of the car.

  "What aire yer goin' ter do erbout it?" asked Bud. "Aire yer goin' terturn over ther motor car an' give yer infermation ter ther police?"

  "Not on your life," answered Ted. "At least, not yet. I'm going to workon it a bit myself first."

  "But won't Mr. Truax tip it off?"

  "I'll warn him not to."

  "But how erbout ther feller in ther check suit what wuz so kind an'attentive ter us?"

  "He's hiding out, now that the robbery has become public. I'm not afraidof him."

  "What's ther first move?"

  "Locate and identify the car."

  Ted called Mr. Truax up on the telephone. The commission merchant hadread about the express robbery, and had connected the man in the red carwith it, but promised to say nothing about it until Ted had had anopportunity to unravel the mystery.

  Ted lay awake a long time that night thinking the matter over, and inthe morning awoke with a plan in his mind.

  "Well, hev yer determined what ter do erbout ther red car?" asked Bud atthe breakfast table. "I'm shore gittin' sore at myself fer a loafer,sittin' eround here doin' nothin' but eat an' look at ther things inther stores what I can't buy."

  "I've got a scheme that I'm going to try," answered Ted.

  "What is it?"

  "I'm going to run that car all over this town until I get some of thetrain-robbing syndicate anxious about it and to following it. Then I'mgoing to get on to their place of doing business and their methods."

  "Wish yer luck," was Bud's cheerless comment.

  Bud had been out wandering restlessly around the streets all morning,and Ted was writing letters. When he got through he thought about themissing trunk, and concluded that he would go to the Union Station tosee if it had been received.

  The words of warning in the note not to go on the street alone wereclear in his memory; but this he took to mean at night, for in a crowdedstreet in the daytime he could see no danger.

  After he had waited an hour or more for Bud, and the yellow-hairedcow-puncher had not returned, Ted decided to delay no longer, andstarted off at a brisk walk for the station, which was six or sevenblocks distant.

  His hotel being on Pine Street, he chose that for his route.

  He had walked three blocks when he stopped to watch a man who wa
sslightly in advance of him.

  It was the fellow he had seen in the checked suit.

  He had just come out of a saloon.

  In the middle of the block he stopped to talk with another man, wholooked as if he worked on the railroad, and Ted loitered in a doorwayuntil the two separated, and the man in the checked suit continued onhis way.

  A block farther on Ted observed two men standing on the corner talking.A policeman stood on the opposite corner.

  The two men on the corner Ted knew instantly for "plain-clothes men," asthe headquarters detectives are called.

  He was well aware that the police by this time were on the alert to findthe express robber and murderer, and knew that every available man onthe city detective force was on the watch, like a cat at a rat hole.

  To capture the train robber meant a reward and promotion.

  Ted stood on the corner opposite the detectives and watched proceedings.

  When the man in the checked suit had gone about ten paces beyond thedetectives, one of them started after him, and the other signaled thepoliceman in uniform to cross over.

  The detective called to the man in the check suit to halt, but insteadof obeying he started to run.

  But he had not gone more than ten feet when he was seized by thedetective, and was dragged back to the corner.

  "Take him to the box, Casey," said the detective, turning his prisonerover to the policeman.

  At that moment the two detectives were joined by a third, and theyentered into an earnest conversation, drawn closely together and lookingover their shoulders occasionally in the direction of the house intowhich the man in the checked suit was about to enter when arrested.

  "I have stumbled right into it," said Ted to himself. "The check-suitman is the spy for the train robbers, and their headquarters are in thathouse. The detectives are going to raid it, and I'm in on it. Thiscertainly is lucky."

  He was glad now that he had not waited for Bud.

  The three detectives moved slowly down the street, The policeman stoodon the corner holding his man, waiting for the patrol wagon.

  The scene was vividly impressed on Ted's mind, for it had happened soquickly, so easily, so quietly, and not at all like his own strenuoustimes when he had gone after desperadoes in his capacity of deputymarshal.

  The detectives did not notice that they were being followed by a youth,and it is doubtful if they would have paid any attention to him if theyhad.

  The foot of the first detective was on the lower step of the stairwayleading to the door of the suspected house when suddenly a shrillwhistle cut the air from the direction of the corner, and Ted turned tosee the policeman strike the man in the check suit a blow with his club.

  "Curse him, he's tipped us off," said the detective. "Come on, we've gotto rush them now."

  Quickly the three sprang up the steps, threw the door open, and entereda long hall.

  "Back room," said one.

  Ted was following them as closely as he could without being noticed andwarned away.

  He saw a big, fine-looking policeman entering by a back door.

  "That's it," said one of the detectives, motioning to a door.

  The policeman walked boldly to the door and threw it open.

  As he did so a shot rang out, and the policeman staggered back andfell, a crimson stain covering his face.

  He was dead before he struck the floor.

  Without a word, the three detectives ran to the door, and within amoment or two at least fifteen shots were fired within the room.

  They were so many and so close together that it sounded like a singlecrash. Then there was silence for a few moments, followed by a fewdesultory shots which seemed to pop viciously after the crash that hadgone before.

  It all happened so suddenly that Ted had hardly time to think, and stoodrooted to the spot until he was aroused by the cry of "Help!" in afeeble voice, and, drawing his revolver, he sprang into the room.

  As he did so, a shot rang out, and a ball sped close to his head.

  The room was so dense with suffocating powder smoke that he could notsee across it, but he had seen the dull-red flash from the muzzle of arevolver and shot in that direction.

  "I'm done," he heard, followed by a deep groan.

  "Get me out of here," said a man, trying to struggle to his feet, andTed hurried to his side. It was one of the detectives, and Ted helpedhim to his feet and supported him to the hall.

  "Let me down. I've got mine. Go in and help Dunnigan," said the woundedman. There was a spot, red and ever widening, on his breast.

  Ted laid him on the floor and reentered the room. Another shot came inhis direction, and missed, although he could feel the wind of it as itpassed close to his head, and he returned it with two shots, and therewas silence.

  The smoke had by this time cleared away somewhat, and Ted saw five menlying prone in the room.

  One of the detectives lay on his face across the bed, and Ted tried toraise him up, but he was a dead weight. Ted finally got him turned overon his back, and then he saw that the detective was dead.

  Kneeling on the floor with his head in his arms, which were thrownacross a chair, was the third detective. He was breathing hard, andevery time he moved the blood gushed from his mouth. He had been shotthrough the stomach.

  But on the other side of the bed lay three men, apparently all of themdead.

  While he was observing this there was a commotion in the hall, and apoliceman rushed in, followed by a large man who wore an authoritativeair.

  "Oh, this is too bad; this is too bad," he kept repeating, as he wentfrom man to man. It was Chief of Detectives Desmond. Turning to thepoliceman, he said:

  "They've killed the boys, but the boys got the whole gang except two,'Checkers' out there, and a man in the red automobile."