CHAPTER XVI
THE STRUGGLE
The approaching car now drew up near by, and three men jumped lightly tothe road.
In the radiance of the lamps on the two cars, Orme recognized Arima. Themen with him were also Japanese, though Orme was not conscious that hehad ever seen them before.
It was clear enough how he and the girl had blundered into the hands ofthe Orientals. Maku had undoubtedly secured a car and had driven it tothe vicinity of the Rookery in response to a telephoned order fromAlcatrante, transmitted, in all likelihood, through the Japaneseminister.
The appearance of the car on La Salle Street had been expected by theSouth American. Perhaps he had not anticipated that Orme would hail it;the probability was that he had wished Maku's assistance without adefinite idea of what that assistance should be; but the use of the carby Orme fell in nicely with his plans. He had assumed readily enough thedirection the car would take, and getting promptly into telephoniccommunication with Arima, had arranged this meeting on the road.
Orme now remembered that Arima's car, when approaching, had sounded itshorn at regular intervals, in series of threes--evidently a signal.
"Don't worry, Girl, dear," whispered Orme. "I--" he broke off hissentence as the newcomers clustered about the tonneau, but the confidentglance of her eyes reassured him.
He knew not what they were to face. The Japanese, he inferred, would notdeal with him pleasantly, but surely they would not harm the girl.
Arima opened the door of the tonneau and with a lightning motion graspedOrme by the wrist.
"Get out," he ordered.
Orme was in no mind to obey. There were four of the Orientals againsthim, and he stood little chance of success in a fight with them, but ifhe could only delay matters, someone might pass and he could raise analarm. So he sat firm, and said, calmly:
"What do you want?"
"Get out," repeated Arima.
When Orme still made no move to leave his seat, the steely fingers on hiswrist ran up his forearm and pressed down hard upon a nerve-center. Thepain was almost unbearable, and for the moment his arm was paralyzed. Aquick jerk brought him to the ground. As he alighted, stumblingly, Makucaught him by the other arm. He was held in such a way that for themoment it seemed futile to struggle. Arima, meantime, spoke rapidly inJapanese to Maku. Perhaps he, as commander of the situation, was givingprecise orders as to what was to be done.
Orme looked over his shoulder at the girl. She was clutching the door ofthe tonneau and leaning forward, staring with horrified eyes.
"Keep cool," he counseled.
Her answer was a moan of anguish, and he realized that she feared forhim.
Suddenly she began to call for help. Twice her cries rung out, and thenone of the Japanese leaped into the tonneau and placed his hand over hermouth, smothering her voice.
The sight of this action was too much for Orme. He began a furious effortto break away from his captors. One sudden motion freed his right armfrom Arima's clutch, and he reached for Maku's throat. But after a momentof scuffling, he was again held securely.
"Girl!" he shouted, "don't try to call out. Keep quiet."
The Japanese in the tonneau appeared to understand the words, for he tookhis hand away from the girl's mouth, though he remained beside her, readyto put an end to any fresh outbreak.
"Now," said Orme, turning his eyes on Arima, "what does this mean?"
"You give us papers," replied the Japanese softly.
"I have no papers that mean anything to you."
"We see. Give them to me."
"What papers do you want?" demanded Orme.
"You know." Arima's voice sounded less patient.
"But I have nothing that you care anything about," repeated Orme.
At that Arima began rapidly to search Orme's pockets. There wassufficient light from the lamps of the two cars to illuminate the scene.
Arima's left hand still held Orme's right forearm, and his right hand wasfree to hunt for the papers. Maku, on the other side, had meantimestrengthened his grip on Orme's left arm, at the same time raising oneknee so that Orme could feel it pressing against the small of his back.
"What this!" asked Arima, taking a long envelope from the inner pocket ofOrme's coat and holding it up for inspection.
"A blank contract," said Orme. "Do you want it?"
Arima took the paper from the envelope and examined it. Then with anexclamation of disgust he replaced it in Orme's pocket and continued hissearch.
"You see," said Orme calmly, "there is nothing here."
The Japanese, muttering in his own tongue, ran his hands over Orme's bodyand even looked into his hat. Nothing was found.
"You might as well believe me first as last," exclaimed Orme. "The papersyou want are not here."
Arima was clearly puzzled. "You had them," he began.
"Possibly. But I haven't them now. How would you feel if I should tellyou that the young lady and I have made this journey simply to throw youoff the scent, and that the papers were being delivered by anotherperson?"
"I not believe," declared Arima shortly.
Suddenly Maku began to jabber at Arima, who, after an instant ofconsideration, gave a quick order to the fourth Japanese, who stood by.This man went to the tonneau and got the prospectuses which Orme hadplaced under the seat cushion.
Arima snatched the papers with his free hand, then, resigning Ormeentirely to Maku's care, and clucking strangely, opened them.
A glance sufficed. With a cry of disappointment, he tore the papers intwo and threw them to the ground.
He thrust his face close to Orme's. "Where the papers?" he said.
Orme did not reply.
The Japanese who had brought the prospectuses from the tonneau nowstepped to Maku's assistance, for Orme had made a motion of the bodywhich showed that he was rapidly losing his patience.
"Queek!"
Still no answer.
"Ha!" The exclamation had a ring of triumph. "Mees have um!" He noddedtoward the car where the girl still sat.
"No," exclaimed Orme vehemently. "She has not."
"Mees have um," repeated Arima. "We hunt. We see."
"I tell you she has not," said Orme.
"No believe you." Arima chuckled. "Come, mees."
As Orme twisted himself around, he was enraged to see the Japanese in thecar seize the girl by the arm and drag her to the ground. Once on herfeet, she did not resist, but permitted herself to be led toward thelittle group.
Arima advanced a step to meet her. "Give me papers," he said.
"I have no papers," she protested despairingly.
"We search you," said Arima, taking another step toward her and extendinghis hands.
It may be that Arima did not intend actually to lay hands on her. Histhought may have been that the threat would induce Orme to tell where thepapers really were. But the effect on Orme was to set him ablaze withanger.
His swift, indignant purpose seemed to multiply his strength until thelittle men who held him were like children in his hands.
A sudden jerk, and he had pulled both his arms free. Maku and the man athis other side were taken completely by surprise, and before they hadtime to recover themselves, Orme had thrown his arms around them andcrushed their heads together with such force that they dropped limp andunconscious to the ground. They were out of the fight.
At the first sounds of struggle, Arima turned. Now, as Orme chargedtoward him, he bent slightly forward, every muscle tense, ready to strikeor trip or twist.
His framework was overlaid by muscles that were like supple steel. Lightand quick, he had a strength that could hardly have been inferred fromhis build. And though Orme's outbreak had been sudden, the Japanese wasapparently not in the least disconcerted.
He knew how to turn the rush of the American into a disastrous fall. Heknew how to prod with his bony knuckle the angry man's solar plexus--howto step swiftly aside and bring the horny edge of his hand againstsensitive vertebrae.
He could seize Orme by the arm and, droppingbackward to the ground, land Orme where he wished him. Yes, Arima hadevery reason to feel confident. Many a time had he got the better ofAmerican fist-fighters.
But a system of offense and defense which is based upon the turning of anopponent's strength against himself absolutely depends for its successupon an accurate estimate of the opponent's intentions. A sudden shift ofphysical purpose may put your jiu-jitsu adept at a loss.
Arima, from his knowledge of American fighting methods, had reason tothink that Orme would continue his charge and strike out with his fistswhen he came near enough. That, however, is something that Orme did notdo. For, in his two previous encounters with the Japanese, he had learnedmuch. He had learned, among other things, the value of the unexpected.And though his anger was almost blinding, he cooled, during those fewshort strides, to his usual caution.
Within two paces of Arima, he stopped short.
For one tense moment Orme opened his senses to all impressions. He couldhear, with almost painful distinctness, the moans of the two men he hadstunned and the rustling sounds made by their writhings.
He caught a glimpse of the girl. The searchlight of one of the carsstruck full on the side of her face, and drew there a distinct shadow ofthe network of her disarranged hair. He saw the strained, excited look inher eyes.
Her captor still held her arm. He was watching Orme and Arimaindifferently, as though quite confident of Japanese skill.
All this Orme observed in an instant. Then his eyes were again on Arima.
He knew that he would have to attack. To await the trick holds of theJapanese would be to invite defeat. But if he attacked, he must use anunexpected method.
Suddenly he raised his left arm above his head and clenched his fist. Hisright arm remained by his side.
A step forward. The upraised arm descended. Swiftly Arima reached upwardto seize it. But even as the one arm descended, Orme swung his other,with terrific force, up from the waist, and caught Arima on the mouth.
The blow missed the chin, but it was hard enough to fell any man ofordinary strength. Arima staggered back, past the girl, and brought upagainst the side of one of the cars. But with hardly an instant forrecovery, he leaped forward again and the man who was holding the girlalso sprang at Orme.
It would be folly to meet the two. Orme turned and ran quickly in amongthe trees of the little grove. The darkness was his friend, for thepursuers halted in their quick run and separated, proceeding morecautiously.
As for Orme, once in shelter, he stopped for breath.
He could see the two men coming toward him. They were outlined againstthe radiance from the motor-cars. Cautiously he stepped toward the south,hoping that they would pass him in the darkness, but he dared not moverapidly, lest a stumble or the breaking of a twig betray him.
All this time the engines of the two cars had continued to work, andtheir muffled chug-chug-chug helped to cover the noise of footsteps.
What pleased him most was to see, out of the corner of his eye, that thegirl had taken advantage of her release to climb to the chauffeur's seatof the car in which Maku had brought them from Chicago. That meant that,if he could reach the car, they might get away. But the papers----
By this time Orme was between his pursuers and the road. He stopped andgroped about till he found a fair-sized stone, then worked toward theedge of the grove. The moment was at hand to make a dash.
Ten steps would take him to the car; then a leap into the tonneau, andoff to the northward he and the girl would speed. Pursuit would bedelayed for a few precious moments, for the Japanese would have to turnthe other car around. Those few moments would determine the margin ofsuccess or failure.
But there were the papers. At all cost they must be secured. The planthat flashed into Orme's mind was to draw the Japanese from the spot andthen, jumping from the car, let the girl lead the pursuers on while hereturned.
Just as he was about to rush for the car he heard a sound among thetrees. He wheeled and saw the dim outline of one of his enemies comingtoward him. In his excitement he had forgotten that just as they could beseen by him when they were between him and the road, so he could now beseen by them. Undoubtedly he was outlined, as they had been, against thebackground of the light.
The Japanese was only a few feet away. Orme threw the stone; by good luckit struck the man in the stomach, and he dropped to the ground and rolledin silent agony.
But at the same moment Orme was seized from behind, and held in a grip hecould not break. Indeed, when he tried to break it, there was a sudden,killing strain on his spine. Then Arima's voice said, close to his ear:
"Where the papers?"
The papers!
Japanese character thus brought its fresh surprise to Orme. Even afterthis hard fight, when three of his friends lay groaning on theground--when he had in his power the man who had injured them, who hadtemporarily bested himself--Arima's chief thought was still of thepapers!
He seemed to have none of the semi-barbarian vengefulness that might havebeen expected. He merely wished the papers--wished them the moredesperately with every passing moment. The lives of his companionscounted for nothing besides the papers!
"Where?" repeated Arima.
"I haven't them," said Orme. "You ought to know that by this time."
The answer was a torturing pressure on Orme's spine. "You tell," hissedArima.
As the pressure increased Orme's suffering was so keen that his sensesbegan to slip away. He was gliding into a state in which allconsciousness centered hazily around the one sharp point of pain.
Then, suddenly, he was released. For a moment he staggered limply, buthis strength surged back, and he was able to see how the situation hadchanged.
The girl had swung her car in closer to the edge of the grove and nearerto the struggling figures. Doubtless she had some idea of helping. Butthe effect of the change in the position of her car was to permit thesearchlight of the other car to throw its bright beam withoutinterruption down the road. And there, perhaps fifty feet to thesouthward, gleamed something white.
The girl could not see it, for her car was headed north. But Arima sawit, and in a flash he realized what it was. The papers lay there at theside of the road, where Orme had tossed them a moment before the two carsmet.
There had been no other way to dispose of them. If the car from the northhad stopped at a different angle, or if the other car had not moved, thelight would not have shone upon them, and the Japanese might not havesuspected where they were. Or, if Orme had tossed them a few feet fartherto one side, they would have been out of the range of the light. Butthere they lay.
Arima leaped toward them. Even as he started, a figure appeared at theother side of the road and walked over toward the two cars. It was a manwith brass buttons and policeman's helmet. He walked with authority, andhe held a stout club in his hand.
"What's goin' on here?" he demanded. Arima stopped in his tracks.
To Orme, at this moment, came the memory of the girl's desire to avoidpublicity. "Nothing wrong," he said.
The policeman stared. "I've been watchin' you from over there," he said."It looks like nothin' wrong, with men fighting all over the ground."
"Just a little trial of strength," explained Orme.
"Trial of strength, hey?"
"Well," admitted Orme, "this man"--pointing to Arima--"wanted somethingthat I had. It's not a matter for the police."
"Oh, it ain't? Somebody's been hurt." He gestured with his club towardthe shadows where the three injured men were slowly coming back to theirsenses.
"Not seriously," said Orme.
"We'll see about that later," replied the policeman decidedly.
Orme tried to carry the affair off boldly. Every moment of delay nowthreatened defeat for him. "There is nothing serious," he said. "Theyhave done me no real harm. But the young lady and I shall be obliged toyou, if you will keep these Japanese here until we can get away. Theyattacked us, but I don't wish to ma
ke a complaint against them."
The policeman showed new interest. He glanced at Arima. "Japanese!" heexclaimed. "There was one slugged on the campus last night. I guessyou'll all have to come along with me."
"Nonsense!" protested Orme. "Just because somebody hit a Japanese overthe head last night----"
"Ah, you know about that, do you? No"--as Orme made a movement--"standwhere you are." He drew his revolver.
During this colloquy, Arima had edged nearer and nearer to the papers.Orme's sudden step was involuntary; it was due to the fact that he hadseen Arima stoop swiftly and pick up the papers and thrust them into hispocket.
"Keep quiet," continued the policeman. "And you, there"--he nodded towardArima--"come here."
Arima hesitated, but the muzzle of the revolver turned toward him, and hecame and stood a few feet away.
"There's somethin' mighty funny about this," continued the policeman."We'll just get into one of these cars and go to the station."
"This man and me?" asked Orme. He had visions of no great difficulty insatisfying the questions of the local justice, but he knew that an arrestwould mean delay, perhaps of hours. And Arima had the papers.
"I mean that man, and you, and the woman. I'll send someone for theothers. If you're the fellow that did the sluggin' on the campus lastnight, you won't get away from me again."
"What's the use of dragging the young lady into this?" demanded Orme.
"None o' your business."
"Can I speak to her a minute, first?"
"No, you can't. There's been too many Chicago hold-up men around herelately, and I won't take chances with you." The policeman made thisexplanation apparently in deference to Orme's appearance, which, in spiteof the evidence of struggle, was that of a gentleman. "Looks don't alwaystell," he continued.
That the girl should be taken to the station and held, under suchsuspicious circumstances was simply not to be thought of.
Doubtless she could quickly set in motion forces that would liberate her,but the disgrace of detention was something she must be saved from at anycost.
She was known in Evanston. Her identity once established, the story ofher arrest would be sure to spread. Her position would then be the morepainful, because the circumstances of the case were such that she wasunwilling to explain them.
Moreover, Orme realized that, if he and Arima were held, the care of thegirl would be his first thought, and the recovery of the papers would beforced into second place. That would not be according to her wish.Assuredly, if he was to get the papers, he could do better alone.
She sat in the car, not more than six feet from him, her face the pictureof mingled emotions. Orme saw that he must reassure her as to himselfbefore he carried out the plan which had suddenly come to his mind.
"You will make a mistake, officer, if you detain me," he said, speakingdistinctly, so that the girl would be sure to hear.
"Cut it out," said the policeman.
"A little telephoning will set me free in an hour," Orme continued,bending to pick up his hat, which had fallen to the ground at thebeginning of the fight. "You can't do anything except take me to thestation and find out that you have bungled."
"That's my affair," said the policeman. "But here, we've done enoughtalkin'." He waved his revolver in a gesture which indicated that theywere to enter the car.
Now, Orme knew that the girl had not seen him throw the papers to theroad. Neither had she seen Arima pick them up. Whatever guess she hadmade as to his disposal of them, there was no reason for her to doubtthat he had again got them into his possession, during some stage of thestruggle.
He looked at her earnestly and significantly, then smiled slightly, inthe thought of reassuring her.
When he was certain that she was watching his every move, he glanced atthe car, then up the road to the north. Then, with such quickness thatthe policeman had no time to prevent, he snatched from the inner pocketof his coat the envelope containing the blank contract which had firstdisappointed Arima, and tossed it into the tonneau.
"Go!" he shouted.
Like a shot, she sent the car forward. It disappeared swiftly into thenight.
Thus far, Orme was satisfied. He had got the girl safely away. Shethought that he had thrown the papers into the car, and when she came toexamine them she would be disappointed, but Orme felt that she would thenunderstand--that she would continue to trust him.
As the car darted away the policeman swung his club at Orme.
Before the blow could strike, the upraised arm was caught by a littlehand and with a quick jerk, the policeman was pulled to the ground. Hisrevolver, which he held in his left hand, went off as he fell, and aleaf, cut from a tree above by the bullet, sailed into Orme's face.
The policeman lay helpless in the cunning hold of Maku--Maku, who, fullyrestored to his senses, had crept up to save Arima from the law.
Orme wondered whether the girl had heard the shot. Probably not, for shewas driving into the wind. But he had no time to consider the point, forArima, suddenly conscious of freedom, leaped for the remaining car. Hehad the papers; he would hurry them safely to his master, leaving Ormeand the policeman to the mercies of his reviving confederates.
The papers were still first in his thoughts. And why not? Orme rememberedthe scathing rebuke by the Japanese minister. In the flash of thoughtthat preceded his own action he realized that the recovering of thepapers was Arima's one means of righting himself.
As Arima grasped the steering-wheel of the car and threw on the clutch,Orme ran behind the tonneau. His action was swiftly calculated to givethe impression that he was dodging around the car in the hope of escapingon foot.
That is what Arima might have thought, had he glanced around--what Makumight have thought, had he done more than throw one swift glance atArima, then devote himself again to the prostrate officer.
But Orme, reaching upward, got his hands over the high back of thetonneau. He hung on tightly, raising his feet from the ground. The carplunged forward.
For a time Orme merely kept his position. The dust whirled up in hisface, and he had to close his eyes, but he was conscious that the car wasgaining speed rapidly.
The situation was as difficult as it was dangerous. He planned nothingless than to climb into the car and deal with Arima even while they wereflying along the road. But he must wait until they had gone a safedistance from the battleground. On the other hand, he must act beforethey got into the thickly settled streets of the town.
He figured that they had gone about a quarter of a mile, when he beganhis effort. Pulling himself up by his hands, he peered over the back ofthe tonneau. He could see Arima, huddled forward over the steering-wheel,doubtless watching the road ahead with a careful eye for obstacles andfor the police.
For Arima was driving the car at a law-breaking speed. Clearly, he was anadept at motoring. But Orme did not stop to ask himself how a humbleteacher of jiu-jitsu--a professional athlete--had acquired so much skillin the handling of a car.
It proved hard to get into the tonneau. Several times he got one legalmost over the back, only to be dislodged as the car bumped into a rutor over a stone. Once he almost lost his grip entirely. But a finaleffort gave him a leg-hold, and slowly--very slowly--he climbed over tothe leather cushions of the wide seat.
If Arima now turned and saw him, almost anything might happen. But beforehe could become conscious that anyone was near him, Orme was crouching inthe tonneau.
The car was going at a thirty-five-mile clip. The street lights wereflashing by, and not far ahead were the frequent lights of houses.Nothing could be done here; therefore Orme got down as low as he could.He realized that he would have to wait till they had passed through thetown.
Arima had not remained on the Sheridan Road. He had taken a street whichstruck off from it, more directly southward, and Orme surmised that theintention was to avoid the main streets of Evanston.
When the car came to a cross street and turned westward this surmise wasstrengthene
d. They bumped over railroad tracks. Several times they passedother vehicles.
Presently Orme raised his head and discovered that the houses werethinning out. The car appeared to be heading straight into the opencountry, and Arima put on more speed. Forty miles an hour was not a highestimate for the rate at which they were traveling.
For several minutes Orme continued in his crouching position. Thepositions of the stars told him that they were still going west--notsouth toward Chicago. Every turn of the wheels, therefore, was carryinghim farther into unknown territory--farther from the girl and all chanceof communicating with her. Surely he must act soon, if he was to act atall; for Arima evidently was proceeding to some rendezvous, where Ormemight find himself again in the midst of an overwhelming number ofenemies.
But what could he do? Rapidly he turned over in his mind the variouscourses open to him. Should he try to stun Arima with a blow, and thenreach forward and take the steering-wheel before the car could swerveinto the ditch?
The blow might not prove effective. In that case, the chances were thatArima would involuntarily swing the car to one side. Then there would bea smash--with death or serious injury threatening both Arima and himself.
Should he try to cut a tire?
The feat was almost impossible. In attempting it, he would run great riskof premature discovery, and even if he succeeded in the attempt, thesituation would be little changed. The necessity of stopping the car tomake repairs might not put Arima in his hands.
The plan he at last decided upon was to throw his left arm around Arima'sneck and draw him straight back, trusting that he might be able to getover the seat and set the brakes without losing his grip. The throat ofthe jiu-jitsu adept is tough, made so by patient development of neckmuscles, but Orme had a strong arm, and he believed, moreover, that Arimawould not have time to protect himself by stiffening his muscles beforethe grip was secured.
The car was skimming along over the turnpike like some flying bird ofnight. Orme glanced back over the way they had come. A soft electric glowin the sky told where Evanston lay, several miles to the east. Far to thesouth a greater glow showed the position of Chicago.
Pulling himself erect, Orme leaned forward. It seemed as though Arimamust hear him breathe. Slowly he advanced his arm. Then, darting swiftly,he threw it around Arima's neck and drew backwards with a jerk.
The Japanese was taken completely unawares. Uttering a strangled cry, helet go of the steering-wheel and clutched at the choking arm that heldhim; he could not break the grip.
Meanwhile Orme reached for the steering-wheel with his free arm. ButArima, kicking frantically, struck the wheel with his foot, just as Ormewas about to seize it. The car turned sharply to one side. Into the ditchit plunged.
As the fore wheels dropped into the depression, the body of the car rosein the air. Orme, still clinging to Arima, shot forward. He wasconscious, in that fraction of a second, that he must release his hold,or Arima's neck would be broken; so he unbent his arm.
The earth arose and something struck him heavily. He saw a firmament ofbrilliant stars. Then all was black.