CHAPTER XII
MARK'S ESCAPE
Mark Sampson was alone in the deserted house. Bound hand and foot,stripped of his clothing, and attired in some old garments that thetramps who made a hanging-out place of the old mansion had cast aside,the unfortunate lad was stretched on a pile of bagging, his heartbeating partly with fear and partly with rage over a desire to escapeand punish the scoundrel responsible for his plight.
The man who had captured him, after taking away Mark's clothes, hadchuckled, as though at some joke.
"You may think this is funny," spoke the lad bitterly, "but you won'tbe so pleased when my friends get after you."
"They'll never get after me," boasted the man. "This is a good joke. Tothink that I can pass myself off as you; that I can join them in theprojectile, and they never will be the wiser!"
"They'll soon discover that you are disguised as me," declared Mark,"and when they do they'll have you arrested."
"Yes, but they'll not discover it until we have left the earth, and areon our way to the moon. Then it will be too late to turn back, and myobject will have been accomplished. I will be with them in the_Annihilator_, and I'll have my revenge! The projectile is due to sailto-morrow, and I'll be on hand. I'm going to leave you now. I have leftorders with a friend of mine that you are to be released to-morrownight. In the meanwhile you will have to be as comfortable as you can.I wish you no harm, but I must keep you here.
"I will feed you well before I go, and put some water where you can getit. But I must leave you tied. I'll not gag you, for, no matter how youyell, no one will hear you. I have posted a notice in front of thisplace that it is under the watch of the police, so no tramps willventure in, and your friends will not come back.
"Now, just make yourself comfortable here, and I'll go to the moon inyour place. I think I shall enjoy the trip. As I said, you will bereleased to-morrow night, several hours after the projectile has leftthe earth."
"How do you know it is to start to-morrow morning?" asked Mark.
"Oh, I have been spying around, and I overheard the professors talking.I know a thing or two, and I'll be on hand, on time, in your place!Now, I have to leave you. I've left ten dollars to pay for your suit,which I need to disguise myself with."
Then the man was gone, and Mark was left with his bitter thoughts tokeep him company. The whole daring scheme of the man had been revealed.He did look something like Mark, and, attired in the lad's clothes, andby keeping his face concealed, he might pass himself off as Jack'schum; at least, until after the projectile had started.
"And then, as he says, it will be too late to return to earth and getme," thought Mark bitterly. "Oh, why did I ever try to learn this man'ssecret? Who is he, anyhow? Why didn't I wait for Jack at the barn, as Ipromised? It's all my fault. I wonder if I can't get loose?"
Mark struggled several hours desperately and at last he felt the ropesgiving slightly. He redoubled his efforts. Strand by strand the cordsparted. He put all his efforts into one last attempt, and to his greatjoy he felt his hands separate. He was partly free!
But scarcely half his task was accomplished. He had yet to discover thesecret of the hidden room--a room, as he afterward learned, which hadbeen built during slavery days to conceal the poor black men who wereescaping from the South.
"But now I have my hands to work with!" exulted Mark.
Resting a bit after his strenuous labors, he took a long drink of waterand attacked the ropes on his feet. They were comparatively easy toloosen, and soon he stood up unbound.
"Now for the secret panel!" he exclaimed, for he was convinced that itwas by some such means that his captor had entered and left. As hasalready been explained, Mark knew on which side of his prison theopening was likely to be--it would be where the warning knocks hadsounded. He began a minute inspection of that wall.
But if Mark hoped to speedily discover the secret he was doomed todisappointment. He went over every inch of the surface, seemingly, andpressed on every depression or projection that met his eye, as hepassed the candle flame along the wall.
Success did not reward him, and, as hour after hour passed, and thecandle burned lower and lower, Mark began to despair.
"I must escape before the projectile leaves," he murmured. "It willnever do to let them take that man with them under the impression thatthey have me. I must escape! I will!"
Once more he began the tiresome task of seeking the secret spring. Thecandle was spluttering in the socket now. It would burn hardly anotherminute. Desperately Mark sought.
At last, just as the candle gave a dying gasp and flared brightly upprior to going out, the lad saw a small screw head he had not noticedbefore. It was sunk deep in a board.
"I'll press that and see what happens!" he exclaimed.
With a suddenness that was startling, he found himself in totaldarkness. The candle had burned out, but he had his finger on thescrew. He pressed it with all his force.
There was a rumbling sound in the darkness, a movement as if some heavybody had slid out of the way, and Mark felt a breath of air on hischeeks. Then he saw a dim light.
"Oh, I'm out! I'm out!" he cried joyously, breathing a prayer ofthankfulness at his deliverance. "I'm free! I pushed on the rightspring, and the panel slid back!"
He fairly leaped forward. The morning light was streaming in throughthe broken windows. He saw himself in the old hall of the mansion, atthe head of the stairs, in a sort of anteroom, the mantle of whichapartment had swung aside to give him egress from the secret chamberthrough a hole in the wall. He was free!
"But am I in time?" he cried. "It is morning--and about ten o'clock, Ishould judge. I've been working to get free all night. Will I be intime?"
He gave one last look behind at his prison and sprang down the ricketystairs. He had but one thought--to reach home in time to unmask thevillain who was impersonating him--to be in time to make the journey tothe moon.
"But it's several miles, and I can't walk very fast," murmured Mark."I'm too stiff and weak. How can I do it?"
He thought of making his way to the nearest farm house, and asking forthe loan of a horse and carriage, but he looked so much like a trampthat no farmer would lend him a horse.
"And I need to make speed," he murmured.
At that moment he heard a noise down the road. It was a steady"chug-chug," like some distant motor-boat, but there was no water nearat hand.
"A motorcycle!" exclaimed Mark. "Some one is coming on a motorcycle.Oh, if I could only borrow it!"
He ran down into the road. He could see the rider now. To his joy itwas Dick Johnson--the lad who had brought him the mysterious note.
"Hi Dick! Dick! hold on!" cried Mark.
The lad on the motor gave one glance at the ragged figure that hadhailed him. Then he turned on more power to escape from what he thoughtwas a savage tramp.
"Wait! Stop! I want that motorcycle!" cried Mark.
"Well, you're not going to get it!" yelled back Dick. "I'll send thepolice after you."
Mark couldn't understand. Then a glance down at his ragged garmentsshowed him what was the matter.
"Wait! Hold on, Dick!" he cried, running forward. "I'm Mark Sampson!I've had a terrible time! I was captured by that mysterious man, andhe's got my clothes. I must get home quick!"
Dick heard, but scarcely understood. However, he comprehended that hisfriend was in trouble, and he wanted to help him. He slowed up, andMark reached him.
"Lend me your motorcycle, Dick," begged Mark. "I must get home in ahurry to unmask a scoundrel. I'll leave your machine for you at ourhouse. I won't hurt it. I'm in a hurry! Get off!"
Somewhat dazed, Dick dismounted, and Mark climbed into the saddle. Hebegan to pedal, and then threw in the gasolene and spark. The cyclechugged off.
"I'll leave it for you at our house," Mark called back. "I'm going on atrip to the moon, and I don't want to be late."
He was fast disappearing in a cloud of dust, while Dick, gazing afterhim, remarked:
> "Well, I always thought those fellows were crazy to go off inprojectiles and things like that, and now I'm sure of it. Going to themoon! Well, I only hope he doesn't take my motorcycle there!"
Mark sped on, turning the handle levers to get the last notch of speedout of the cycle. Would he be in time?