CHAPTER IX
REPRISALS
"What about dividing the night into watches?" asked Armstrong, when theyhad cleared away their evening meal.
"Dark to dawn is about eight hours," responded Warrender. "Bysummer-time, nine to five."
"And three into eight will go with a recurring decimal," added Pratt."I don't mind being the recurring decimal, which as a matter ofpracticality I take to mean that I'll come on every tenth hour; that isto say, I'll have ten hours' sleep unbroken, and turn up, fresh as alark, at seven in the morning."
"Very ingenious," said Warrender, "but I prefer my fractions vulgar.Two-thirds of an hour is forty minutes, and you'll do your two hoursforty minutes like us two. We'll start alphabetically, shall we?Armstrong first--then the vulgar fraction, then me."
"I always thought the middleman got the best of it in life," said Pratt."Here's an exception, any way. The first and last men will each havefive hours twenty minutes' sleep on end; the middleman won't get any,because he won't fall asleep at all in the first watch, fromover-anxiety, or in the third, because it won't seem worth while. Still,if we permutate--APW, PAW and so on--we'll all suffer in turn. I warnyou, when I'm middleman I shan't be able to keep awake without thesolace of my banjo."
"I bar that," said Armstrong. "It'd give me nightmare."
"Well, I've warned you. If the Assyrian comes down like a wolf on thefold, somewhere about midnight, don't blame me."
But when, about seven o'clock in the morning, they compared notes, theyfound that none of them had been disturbed, and Pratt had a good deal tosay on the advantages of the midnight hours for the refreshment of theinner man. Two empty ginger-beer bottles beside his chair approved hissentiments.
"It's only a respite, of course," he said. "They wouldn't have startedtheir tricks without a reason; they won't give them up until they findthem useless; and they'll make that discovery all the sooner if we opena defensive offensive. I propose to go into the village afterbreakfast; an idea's occurred to me; and I'll call at the post officeand see if any answer has come from the fellow I sent that Russiannewspaper to. You had better come with me, Jack; it's Phil's turn to behouse-dog."
So it was arranged. Pratt and Armstrong rowed the dinghy to the ferry.Joe Rogers was standing at his inn door.
"Morning to 'ee, young gentlemen," he said. "You be Mr. Pratt's nephew,sir," he added to Pratt.
"How do you know that?" asked Pratt.
"Old Gaffer Drew telled me when he came home along last night. He saidas 'twas the young feller whose tongue went like a clapper, so I knowed'ee at once."
"Well, I'd rather be known by my tongue than by my finger-prints,wouldn't you?"
"Ay, we've all got our weaknesses. Mine is baldness, come of a fever Itook aboardship when we was off Gallapagos. My old woman _will_ make mewear a wig, though I could do without it this hot weather. And how do'ee find No Man's Island, sir?"
"A place of enchantment, equal to Prospero's island. We know there's aPuck, and we suspect there's a Caliban, but more of that anon."
"You do talk like a book, sir. Well, I'm glad you be comfortable. Goodday to 'ee."
They called at the village post office. There was no letter fromPratt's friend.
"Let's go on and have a look at my uncle's house," said Pratt, when theycame out. "It's about a mile beyond the village, on that by-road we sawthe other day. The road winds a good deal, and though I don't proposeto leave my card at the house, I'd like to take a peep at it once more,closer than we can get from the river."
They went on, turned into the by-road, and after about three-quarters ofa mile came to a brick wall on the right, in which there was a massivegate, and within it a small lodge. The gate was padlocked, the lodgeclosed and shuttered. A few hundred yards beyond was a second gate andlodge. The latter also was evidently unoccupied, but the gate was open.
"It's the shortest way from the house to Dartmouth," said Pratt. "Wecan't see the house for the trees, but if I remember rightly theground's more open a little farther along."
In a minute or so they came to a spot where, by mounting the wall, theywere able to obtain a clear view of the building. It stood above aterraced garden some three hundred yards from the road. Fine though theday was, they were both struck by a sense of gloom. The windows wereall closed; those on the ground floor were shuttered; and but for a thinwisp of smoke rising from one of the chimneys the house might have beensupposed to be untenanted.
"The servants' quarters are at the back," said Pratt. "The foreignersat any rate don't play high jinks in the front rooms while my uncle isaway. But it looks pretty dreary, doesn't it, old man? Makes me thinkof Mariana in the moated grange."
"Don't know the lady," said Armstrong. "But look! there's a car comingout of the garage at the side."
"That used to be the stables," said Pratt, as the doors were flung wide,and an open four-seated touring car emerged. "That's not the car we sawthe other day, though the chauffeur's the same."
Perched on the wall they remained watching. The chauffeur stopped thecar, got out, and shut the doors of the garage. Meanwhile the bigfellow whom Armstrong had felled came round the other side of the housecarrying a small leather trunk. Behind him walked a short, dapper littleman, wearing a grey Homburg hat and a light overcoat. From his gesturesit appeared that he ordered the big man to strap the trunk on to theluggage-carrier at the rear of the car. When this was done, the smallman got into one of the back seats, and the chauffeur, already at thewheel, started the car along the right-hand fork in the drive leading tothe open gate.
"Down! They mustn't see us," said Pratt.
They dropped from the wall into the grounds, and shinned up a small treewhose thick-laden branches overhung the edge of the road. Half a minutelater the car ran past, swung to the right outside the gate, and dashedrather noisily in the direction of Dartmouth.
"THEY SHINNED UP A SMALL TREE."]
"HALF A MINUTE LATER THE CAR RAN PAST."]
"The passenger is my uncle's secretary, I suppose," said Pratt. "Iwonder which of the many nations of the world claims him? He might passfor an Englishman, but you can't tell from a fugitive glance when aman's clean-shaven."
"I thought he looked a decent sort of chap," said Armstrong, as theyreturned to the road; "not the kind of fellow to consort with a man likeRush."
"No. I dare say Rush is playing some game of his own with one of theunderlings. I'll tell you my idea, by the way. Leaving us alone lastnight struck me as rather suspicious. They've probably got something inhand for to-night. Well, it occurred to me that if Rush comes prowlingaround our tent, with more tin-tacks or who knows what, it would berather a good dodge to trip him up and collar him before he can hookit."
"He'll guess we're on the watch. No man would be such an ass as tosuppose we'd let him do the tin-tack trick a second time."
"That may be. Very likely he kept off last night just for that reason.As you say, he'd guess we'd be on the watch, and probably thinks we'reall jolly sick to-day because nothing happened, and won't be inclined tokeep vigil again. Anyhow, if he does come again, he won't expect anydanger until he gets near to the tent, and I propose to nab him beforethen."
"How?"
"Stretch a cord two or three inches above the ground just where thethicket ends at the edge of the clearing. He wouldn't see it, even bymoonlight, because it would be pretty well hidden by the grass. Buthe'd be bound to catch one of his hoofs in it, and a lumbering lout likethat couldn't pick himself up before any one of us three would be downon him."
"But how d'you know which way he'd come?"
"He wouldn't come across the clearing, that's certain. Well, the tentis about six yards from the thicket behind, and the edge of the thicketmakes a sort of rough half-circle. A cord of fifty or sixty yards wouldbe plenty long enough. I dare say we'll get one at old Blevins's shop.We'll pay him a call on the way back."
&n
bsp; The shop was unattended when they entered it, but a rap on the counterbrought Blevins himself, wearing the polite tradesman's smile.
"Good-morning, Mr. Blevins," said Pratt. "You've a motor-car for hire, Ibelieve?"
"Well, yes, sir, I do have as a rule, but 'tis out to-day. In fact, Idon't know when it will be back. 'Tis hired for the Red House, Mr.Pratt's being under repair."
"Ah! that's a pity. We'll have to put off our joy-ride. Well, it can'tbe helped. Perhaps you could let us have a skipping-rope instead?"
"A skipping-rope, sir?"
"Yes. Didn't you know? Skipping is one of the most beneficialexercises any one could indulge in. It brings into play I forgetexactly how many muscles, develops a perfect co-ordination between thebrain, the eye, the hands and feet; and if you ever go to Oxford, I daresay you'll see on any college lawn all the brainiest men of the risinggeneration skipping about under the eyes of their revered tutors. Ifthe mountains could skip like rams, as we're told they did, there'snothing surprising in a future Prime Minister skipping like a giddygoat, is there? And there are hundreds of future Prime Ministersimbibing the milk of academic instruction at Oxford to-day."
Blevins had listened with a stare of puzzlement. The short, chubby youthappeared to be serious; his companion's face showed no flicker of asmile; yet the general dealer, remembering what his assistant had toldhim, had a dim suspicion that he was dealing either with a joker or witha lunatic. To get rid of his dilemma he confined himself to the severelypractical.
"Well, sir," he said, "I don't keep skipping-ropes as such, but I've acord which the neighbours do make clothes-line of."
"The very thing!" cried Pratt. "We haven't made any arrangements aboutour washing, and, as laundry prices have gone up beyond all bearing, wemay have to do our own. Of course we shall want a clothes-line forhanging out our shirts and things on, and as my friends are regularnuts, and possess a very extensive wardrobe, we shall want a longline--quite fifty yards. Add ten yards for a skipping-rope, that makessixty; we'll take sixty yards, Mr. Blevins; and as you can't possiblymake a neat parcel of that, you'd better twist 'em round the hefty frameof my friend here; sort of bandolier, you know."
The man proceeded to measure out the cord from a bale which he rolledfrom his back premises.
"You be camping on No Man's Island, 'tis said," he remarked.
"We are," replied Pratt. "We're followers of the simple life; freshair, cold water, and plain fare. We drink nothing stronger thanginger-beer, and eat nothing more luxurious than macaroons, and Isuppose we can't get even them in a place like this? What's theconsequence? We never have bad dreams, like people who stuff themselvesand sleep in stuffy rooms."
"And you haven't been troubled by the sounds, sir?"
"What sounds?"
"Well--some folks do talk of terrible groans they've heard if so bethey've rowed past the island by night, and 'tis said the place ishaunted by the spirit of the old gentleman as used to live there."
"He hasn't disturbed our rest, I assure you. I dare say he's beensoothed by my banjo; I usually tune up a little before I go to bed. Youplay the banjo yourself, I hear; you know how grateful and comforting itis--sweet and low, not like the squeaking scrape of the violin, or theear-splitting blast of the cornet. I think you're a man of taste, Mr.Blevins, and as a fellow-musician I congratulate you.... That's sixtyyards? Now, Armstrong, stick out your chest, and Mr. Blevins and Ibetween us will rig up your bandolier."
When they had left the shop, Pratt asked: "I say, what's he mean bythose old groans?"
"I heard a sort of moaning the night I first saw the cottage," Armstrongreplied; "but I put it down to the wind, of course."
"There's been no wind to speak of since we settled on the island. I'dlike to hear those sounds. Strikes me they're an acoustical phenomenon.Sure it wasn't an owl?"
"Nothing like it; the note was deeper and more prolonged."
"Well, if it's the wind in the eaves the sound will be heard by day aswell as by night, and I'll trot over to the cottage the first breezymorning and listen."
Warrender had nothing to report when they regained the camp. He thoughtwell of Pratt's idea of a trap, and they spent the greater part of theday in cutting a number of stout pegs from saplings in the woods. Thesethey drove into the ground, at intervals of a few feet, in a longsemi-circle at the edge of the clearing, and stretched the clothes-lineupon them about six inches from the ground. One or other of them kept acareful look-out while the work was in progress, and nothing was seen ofRush or any other human being. Before dusk the task was completed, andthey had provided themselves in addition with stout cudgels.
It was Pratt's turn to take first watch that night. On the previousnight each had sat out in the open, but it occurred to Pratt that abetter place would be just within the tent. Accordingly, when theothers encased themselves in their sleeping-bags, he posted himself onhis chair at the entrance, shaded from the moonlight by the projectingflap.
More than two hours had passed; he was growing sleepy, frequentlyglancing at his watch to see when it would be time to awaken Warrender.Just before half-past eleven he heard a slight sound from the thicket onhis right. Seizing his cudgel, he looked in the direction of the sound.The edge of the clearing on that side was deep in shadow. He stood up;it might be a false alarm; he would not awaken his companions.
Suddenly there was a heavy thud, followed by smothered curses. Prattdashed out of the tent and across the clearing. At the edge of thethicket a man was struggling to his feet. Even at that moment Pratt wastoo much of a sportsman to use his cudgel. He closed with the man,gripped him by the collar, and hauled him into the moonlight, crying,"What are you doing here?" The man attempted to wriggle loose. Prattdropped his cudgel, got a firm grip with both hands, and with adexterous use of his knee threw the intruder heavily to the ground.Next moment he was struck violently on the left side of his head, andfell half-stunned.
"PRATT THREW THE INTRUDER HEAVILY TO THE GROUND."]
Meanwhile the sounds had wakened Armstrong and Warrender. Heavingthemselves out of their sleeping-bags they rushed in their pyjamasacross the clearing. Pratt was sitting up, dazedly rubbing his head.
"What's the row?" asked Armstrong.
"Diamond cut diamond," murmured Pratt. "Help me up, you fellows.Everything's whirling round."
They helped him back into the tent and sponged his head. Presently hewas able to tell them what had happened.
"Was it Rush you collared?" asked Warrender.
"No, a bigger man, with a broad face, high cheekbones, and a bent-innose."
"The face I saw in the thicket!" exclaimed Armstrong. "Who was theother chap?"
"I don't know. I didn't see him, confound the fellow! Just my luck!And it was my scheme!"