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diff --git a/43853-0.txt b/43853-0.txt index bf3c39d..323b43b 100644 --- a/43853-0.txt +++ b/43853-0.txt @@ -1,35 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galloping Ghost, by Roy J. Snell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Galloping Ghost - A Mystery Story for Boys - -Author: Roy J. Snell - -Release Date: September 30, 2013 [EBook #43853] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALLOPING GHOST *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43853 *** _A Mystery Story for Boys_ @@ -6544,360 +6513,4 @@ brings another. Read and see. 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Snell</title> @@ -148,44 +148,7 @@ p.t15,div.t15,.t15 { margin-left:19em;text-indent:-3em; margin-top:0; margin-b </style> </head> <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galloping Ghost, by Roy J. Snell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Galloping Ghost - A Mystery Story for Boys - -Author: Roy J. Snell - -Release Date: September 30, 2013 [EBook #43853] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALLOPING GHOST *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43853 ***</div> <div id="cover" class="img"> <img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="The Galloping Ghost" width="500" height="723" /> @@ -7326,380 +7289,6 @@ brings another. Read and see.</p> <li>Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.</li> <li>In the text versions, included italics inside _underscores_ (the HTML version replicates the format of the original.)</li></ul> - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galloping Ghost, by Roy J. Snell - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALLOPING GHOST *** - -***** This file should be named 43853-h.htm or 43853-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/8/5/43853/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Galloping Ghost - A Mystery Story for Boys - -Author: Roy J. Snell - -Release Date: September 30, 2013 [EBook #43853] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALLOPING GHOST *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - _A Mystery Story for Boys_ - - - - - _The_ - GALLOPING GHOST - - - _By_ - ROY J. SNELL - - - The Reilly & Lee Co. - Chicago - - COPYRIGHT 1933 - BY - THE REILLY & LEE CO. - PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I Kidnaper's Island 11 - II Whispers in the Night 22 - III "We Must Escape" 30 - IV The Ghost Appears 38 - V Red Wins to Lose 49 - VI The Red Rover Gets the Breaks 56 - VII A Journey in the Night 67 - VIII "The Rat" 78 - IX Red Goes Into Action 89 - X The Invisible Footprint 100 - XI Hotcakes at Dawn 109 - XII Johnny Gets a "Jimmy" 116 - XIII Light on the Water 127 - XIV Drew Lane Steps Into Something 137 - XV "Shootin' Irons" 146 - XVI The Branded Bullet 156 - XVII Johnny's Jimmy 164 - XVIII Dreaming at Dawn 173 - XIX Night on Isle Royale 180 - XX Riding a Moose 190 - XXI The Shoe 200 - XXII On the "Sleeping Lion" 207 - XXIII A Visit in the Night 213 - XXIV Uncle Ned Does His Bit 226 - XXV The Trail Leads North 236 - XXVI Battle Over the Waves 245 - XXVII A Haunted Bay 255 - XXVIII The Light That Failed 262 - XXIX Silent Night 269 - XXX Hollow Chuckles 276 - XXXI "Play by Play" 289 - XXXII "70,000 Witnesses" 296 - XXXIII The Flea Flicker 309 - - - - - THE GALLOPING GHOST - - - - - CHAPTER I - KIDNAPER'S ISLAND - - -Red Rodgers rolled half over, squirmed about, then sat up. For a long -time he had felt the floor beneath him vibrate with the throb of powerful -motors. His eardrums, beaten upon as they had been by the roar of those -motors, now seemed incapable of registering sound. - -Not the slightest murmur suggesting life reached his ears. "Not the -rustle of a leaf, nor the lap of a tiny wave; not the whisper of a -village child asleep," he told himself. "Can I have gone stone deaf?" -Cold perspiration started out upon the tip of his nose. - -And then, piercing the silence like a siren's scream in the night, came a -wild, weird, mad, hilarious laugh. - -Startled by this sudden shock of sound, he shuddered from head to foot. -Then, at once, he felt better. - -"At least I am not deaf." - -"That laugh," he mused a moment later, "it was almost human, but not -quite. What could it have been?" - -To this question he could form no answer. The wild places, wilderness, -forest, lakes, rivers, were sealed books to Red. He had lived his life in -a city, lived strenuously and with a purpose. - -"Some wild thing," he murmured. "But where am I?" His brow wrinkled. -"I've been kidnaped, dragged from my berth in a sleeping car, thrown into -a speed boat, carried miles down a river, bundled into this airplane, -whirled for hours through the air, and landed here. But where is here? -And why am I here at all?" - -"Hours," he whispered slowly. A stray moonbeam lighted a spot on his -knee. He placed his wrist there and read the dial of his watch. - -"Yes, hours. It's five after midnight. And to-morrow, hundreds of miles -away, I was to have made at least two touchdowns. The crowd would expect -at least one sixty-yard dash by the Red Rover." - -"The Red Rover." That was the name the fans had given him. Well, the Red -Rover would not run. He smiled grimly. But, after all, what did it -matter? They were to play Woodville. What was Woodville? A weak team. Old -Midway's cubs could beat them. It was a midweek game, mainly for -practice. He wasn't needed for that. But Saturday's game! Ah, well, that -was another story. - -"But kidnaped!" He brought himself up with a start. "I've been kidnaped! -Dragged from my berth. Whirled all the way to some place where wild -creatures laugh at midnight." - -Kidnaped. The whole affair seemed absurd to him. He had read of -kidnapings. There had been many of late. It had always made his blood -boil when some innocent child, some helpless woman had been carried away -to a dismal hole and held for ransom. "Low-lived curs," he had called the -kidnapers. - -"Ransom!" He laughed a low laugh. He was a college student, a football -player for two months of the year, a night clerk in a hotel the rest of -the year, an orphan boy working his way through the university. He -thought there were three dollars in his pocket, but he could not be sure. - -"Kidnaped! Must have got the wrong fellow this time. Tell 'em who I am, -and they'll turn me loose; hustle me back, like as not." - -He was wrong. They would neither turn him loose nor hustle him back. - -"All right, Red. You can get out." These words were spoken as the -airplane door swung open. - -"Red!" the boy thought with a start. "So they _do_ know who I am. They -did mean to get me. I wonder why! - -"Whew!" he whistled as a cold breeze struck his cheek. "Cold up here." - -"Cold enough," the other grumbled. "Come on, shake a leg! This boat -swings about." - -"Boat." It's strange how a single word tells a long story. The whiff of -cold air had told him that they had flown north. Now he knew that they -had landed on water. But what water? And where? - -"There you are." A hand in the moonlight guided him to a seat in the -stern of a small boat. - -Red opened his eyes wide at the scene that lay before him, a broad, deep -bay fringed by a black ribbon of spruce and balsam. The moonlight, -forming a path of gold across the water, fell upon some dark object. As -the oars of the boat creaked, the dark object made a splashing sound; it -moved. - -As if reading the boy's thoughts, the oarsman ceased his labors to cast -the circle of a powerful flashlight in the direction of the moving -creature. - -With a quick intake of breath Red stared enchanted; for there, not twenty -yards away, standing at the end of the small island which he had reached -at this moment, was a moose. - -Nowhere in all his life had the boy beheld such complete majesty. Erect, -silent, powerful, the monarch of the forest stood there defiant and -unafraid. - -"Where in all the earth could one find a spot such as this?" Red breathed -to himself. "A spot so sheltered that even the shyest of the forest's -great ones shows no fear." - -He had expected the oarsman to drag a rifle from the prow and fire -point-blank at this moose. Instead, he sat there for a second, his rough -face disfigured by a semblance of a smile; then, pocketing his -flashlight, he once again took up his oars. - -For Red there was little enough time for thought. The boat swung about. -Before them lay a point of land, perhaps the end of an island. At its -extreme end was a little half-clearing where a score of girdled birches -pointed their barren trunks, like dead fingers, toward the sky. - -At the edge of this clearing was a small log cabin. From this a pale -light gleamed. Toward this cabin the boat directed its course. - -"'This is the forest primeval.'" The words sprang unbidden to the boy's -lips. "'The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, bearded with moss, and in -garments green, indistinct in the twilight, stand like Druids of eld, -with voices sad and prophetic, stand like harpers hoar, with beards that -rest on their bosoms.' - -"And to-morrow was to have been--" - -As he closed his eyes he saw what it was to have been: a wild, shouting -throng; college songs, college yells, bands, waving banners. "Go, Midway! -Go!" Two squads battling for victory. Wild scrambles. Futile dashes. And, -with good fortune, a mad dash of fifty yards to triumphal victory. - -"Life," he whispered, "is strange." - -The boat bumped. A narrow landing lay beside him. - -"We get off here." There was something impersonal in the tone of this -strange pilot of the night. "This'll be home for you, son, for quite some -considerable time." - -"I hope you're wrong," Red thought. - -The room he entered a moment later was small and very narrow. In one -corner was a cot, in another a table and chair. Across from the table was -a curious affair of sheet iron that, he guessed, might be a stove. The -place was agreeably warm. There must be a small fire. On the table a -candle burned. - -Turning about to seek for an explanation of all that had been happening -and of his strange surroundings, he was not a little startled to find -himself alone. The door had been silently closed behind him. And locked? -Well, perhaps. What could it matter? He was, beyond doubt, surrounded by -water, the merciless water of the north country--some north country in -November; surrounded, too, by determined men, hostile men, perhaps, who -had apparently ordained that his stay in the cabin should be a long one. -Once again, as he dropped into the chair, there came to his mind that -forceful interrogation: - -"Why?" - -As before, he could form no adequate answer. - -His mind was busy with this problem when, with startling suddenness, his -attention was caught and held by the low sound of voices. - -"Have you signed?" It was a man who spoke. The voice was not gruff; a -low, smooth, persuasive voice, too smooth, too persuasive. - -Quite in contrast was the answer. Unmistakably feminine, it came sharp -and crisp as the crash of icicles fallen from the eaves. "I will never -sign." - -"But consider." The man's voice was not raised, still smooth, persuasive. -"You are on an island." - -"An island. I thought so," Red whispered to himself. "But who can this -girl be?" That the one beyond the partition was a girl he did not doubt. - -"I will never sign!" the girl broke in upon the other's oily speech. "My -father owes you nothing." - -"Consider," the other persisted. "You are on a narrow island within a -bay. The water of the bay is icy cold. You might swim it in safety, -though I doubt it. Should you succeed, it would be but to find yourself -upon a much larger island. That island is fifteen miles from the nearest -mainland, a hundred from the farthest. Can you swim that, or row it even -if you should find a boat? Ah, no. The waters of this great lake are -terrible in their fury. And Superior never gives up her dead." - -There was something so sepulchral about these last words that the -listening boy shuddered in spite of himself. - -"On such an island there are people." The girl's tone was stubborn, -defiant. - -"There is no one." The tone of the speaker carried conviction. "In -summer, yes. In winter, no. We are here alone." - -"Then," said the girl, "I shall stay here until summer comes. Winter will -soon be here. And 'if winter comes,'" she quoted, "'can spring be far -behind?'" - -"Very far." - -There was a quiet cadence in the speaker's tone that sent chills coursing -up Red Rodger's spine. At the same time he hardly suppressed a desire to -shout: "Bravo!" to the girl. - -The closing of a door some seconds later told him that this was a cabin -of at least two rooms and, strangely enough, between these rooms was no -connecting door. - - - - - CHAPTER II - WHISPERS IN THE NIGHT - - -As Red Rodgers stretched his feet out before the tiny stove in his narrow -room, his brow wrinkled. Here was a situation for you! A football game to -be played to-morrow four or five hundred miles away. He laughed a silent, -mirthless laugh. - -"Football," he whispered. He was surprised to find within his being a -certain feeling of relief. He relaxed to the very tips of his toes. -"Football." He had seen a lot of it. Too much. This was his first year on -the varsity. Almost without willing it, or even realizing it, he had -become the central attraction of his team. He was the hub about which the -offense circled. His had been the power and the glory, the power to dash -and beat, weave and wind his way to many a touchdown, the glory of the -victor. - -"The power and the glory." Little enough Red cared for glory. But power? -Ah, yes! All his life he had striven for power, physical power for the -most part. But he meant in the end to go forward, to succeed in life. - -Born and raised in a city of mills, he had, from the age of fourteen, -played his little part in the making of steel. For three summers and at -every other available hour he had toiled at steel. Bare to the waist, -brown, heat-burned, perspiring, he had dragged at long bars, raking away -at steel bars, but recently formed by rushing, crashing rollers, that -were still smoking hot. Other hours he had spent on the gridiron. The one -helped the other. Struggling with steel, he had become like steel -himself, hard, elastic, resisting. As he went down the field men were -repelled from his Robot-like body as they might had he been a thing of -white-hot metal. - -And then had come his great opportunity. A quiet, solidly built man, with -wrinkled face, bright eyes and tangled hair, had watched his high school -football exploits from the sidelines. From time to time he had beckoned -and had whispered: "Hold the ball closer to your body. Lean. Lean far -over. Don't run for the sidelines. Break your way through." - -There had been an air of authority and knowledge not to be questioned -about this old man. Red had listened and had tried to follow the other's -teaching. - -Then, one day during his senior year at Central High the old man had -touched him on the arm and had pronounced magical words: - -"The university will need you." - -Red had thrilled at these words. He knew now, on the instant, that this -was the "Grand Old Man" of football, the fairest, squarest coach that -ever lived. - -It had been good to know that the university would need him, for long ago -he had learned that in his upward climb he would need the university. The -university had found him. He had found the university. In his freshman -year, a cub, there had been bitter days and hours of triumph. But why -think of all that? - -With a restless motion he rose, took three steps, the extent of his -cabin, retraced them and sat down. "Like a beast in a cage!" he muttered -low. "I'll not stand it!" - -He thought soberly: "No, this is not to be endured. Better the hard grind -of football." - -But this girl in that other log-walled prison cell? His mind did a sudden -flip-flop. - -"She's rich," he mused. "At least her father is. That crook said he was. -She did not deny it." Red did not approve of rich people. They had too -much, others too little. He thought still less of their children. It -mattered little to him that the sons and daughters of certain rich men -had endeavored to make friends with him since his success at football. He -could not understand them, was puzzled by their ways, and wished quite -sincerely that they would leave him alone. - -"Soft," he had said to his roommate, "that's what they are. No -experiences worth having." - -"But this girl over there beyond the log wall," he said to himself now, -"she's different. Got spunk. Stands up and defies them, she does, when -she knows they are beasts, as all kidnapers are. Tells 'em she'll freeze -here all winter rather than do the thing they want her to do. Nerve, -that's what!" - -He was conscious of an invisible bond that bound his life to that of the -girl. "In the end we may fight it out together." - -The hour was late. Once again the drowsy warmth of this narrow cell -settled down upon him. - -"Football," he mused. "A tough business. Thousands screaming their lungs -out, ten, twenty, thirty, forty thousand people losing their heads while -you must keep yours. Wish this were the end, wish it were all over. -Wish--" - -Once again, in the twinkling of an eye, his mood changed. - -"For all that," he muttered beneath his breath, "I've got to get away!" -Leaping to his feet, he stood there, hard, straight, square, with purpose -written in every line of his well formed body. "To-morrow's game, that is -nothing. But Saturday's game, that is everything. It is the end. Final, -that's what it is. Defeat or victory, that's what it means. The -championship or nothing. And Prang, the Grand Old Man, says it depends on -us! - -"That means me!" There came a stoop to his shoulders as if a load had -fallen upon them. "For the Grand Old Man, for the school that gave me a -chance, for my mother, for clean sport all over the world, I must escape. -I must play. I must win. I must! Must! _Must!_" - -Yet, even as these words formed themselves into thought he seemed to hear -others. "On a narrow island within a bay. Icy water. Another larger -island. Fifteen, seventy-five, a hundred miles from shore. Superior never -gives up her dead." Of a sudden the boy cursed the school days when he -had neglected his study of geography. He saw it all now. Geography was -travel. And how could one find travel dull? - -"But travel!" Again that silent, mirthless laugh. "Who expects to travel -as I have?" - -His thoughts were not finished. From somewhere had come a long, low, -hissing sound. It was followed by a whisper: - -"Over here! Come close to the wall." - -"Must be that girl." His heart skipped a beat. - -"What did they take you for?" the whisper demanded. - -"I--I don't know." - -"Don't know?" - -"Fact." - -After that a great silence settled over the place. This Red could not -understand. Why had she started the conversation if she did not expect to -finish it? - -"Oh, well," he told himself at last, "girls are queer anyway." He settled -back comfortably in his place. - -Truth was, the girl suspected him of being a decoy placed there by the -kidnapers. In the end she came to see that she had little to lose if she -confided in a decoy. - -Again came her long-drawn signal, demanding attention. And after that: - -"Don't you want to escape?" - -"Never wanted anything half so much in my life!" Then in a sudden burst -of confidence he told her of the game that was to be on Saturday, of the -veteran coach's fatherly interest in his career, of his hopes, his fears, -his secret ambitions. All this he poured into a not unwilling ear. Only -he did not tell her he was the far-famed "Red Rover." This he reserved -for the future. - -"Good!" the girl exclaimed, still in a whisper. "Then our purposes are -one. We must join hands. Put her there! Shake on it!" - -This, considering that a log wall eight inches thick lay between them, -was of course impossible. But they pledged themselves in pantomime. - - - - - CHAPTER III - "WE MUST ESCAPE" - - -"We must find some way of escape." - -The girl's tone, low, mellow, earnest, was scarcely more than a whisper. - -"But we are upon an island within an island. Or did that man lie to you?" - -"He did not lie." - -"What then?" - -"We can do but one thing at a time. We must escape. And after that--" She -did not finish. - -The boy found it difficult, this discussing plans with one he could not -see, had never seen. - -"I could soon cut a small hole between two logs," he told himself. - -He thought of suggesting this, but considered it better to wait. - -He set about planning their escape methodically. The staple that held the -padlock to his door was large. It was clinched on the inside. By working -first with a nail pulled out of the wall, then a bit of wire, he managed -to straighten these points. Then, little by little, without sound, he -pushed the staple back until only the points showed. - -"Two or three good yanks and the door will fly open," he confided to the -girl. - -"But mine? How are we to manage it?" - -Red pondered this problem. He could, he told himself, pass his crude -instruments through to her. But were her fingers strong enough for the -task? He doubted this. - -He studied the wall that lay between them. He was at a loss to account -for this wall, which had, from all appearances, stood there for some -years. Then it occurred to him that a trapper had built the cabin, using -one room for himself, the other for his dogs. Campers of a later date had -doubtless cleared up the dogs' kennel and made a bunk room of it without -removing the partition. - -"But this partition," he whispered excitedly, "is not notched into the -cabin wall. The logs were merely laid up, one upon another, then a white -birch pole spiked in each corner to hold them into position. Once the -poles are removed, the logs may be taken down." - -"And then?" the girl breathed. - -"Your room will be mine and mine yours." - -"Until they discover." - -"They will not discover. We will not remove the logs until the hour set -for our escape. When they discover the cage door open, the birds will -have flown." - -It was with strangely mixed feelings that Red began the task of removing -the white birch poles which held the logs in place. Until that moment the -girl had seemed quite remote, one living in another world, a rich man's -daughter. But as the last spike yielded and the last pole stood leaning -lightly in its place, as he realized that the logs that lay between them -could be removed as easily as stones are piled or grain shocked, he -became conscious of a new sort of comradeship such as he had experienced -with none other. - -"We are in for it," he breathed, "for better or for worse." - -"For better or for worse," came the girl's faint answer. "And, oh, I'm -sure it is for better than we dare dream." - -"Only one thing could be truly good: to get back to Soldiers' Field on -time." Red thought this, but he did not say it. - -With the preparations all made there remained but to wait. To one of -Red's nature, this was hardest of all. He was ever for action. - -"But we must wait," he said to the log wall before him, in tones loud -enough for the girl's ears. "The guard will be on the alert early in the -night. Later he will relax his vigil." - -"Yes, yes. We must wait!" came from the other side of the wall. - -"I'm putting out my light, retiring for the night." These words, ending -in a subdued laugh, came from behind the wall half an hour later, telling -Red that for the eyes of the guard she had retired for the night. - -"Retired for the night," Red thought soberly. "Wonder when we will -retire, and where?" - -As he thought of the cold black waters of this inland bay, a mental -picture of his own form, lying ten fathoms deep where the fishes play, -came to him. He saw his hands waved about by the currents. Then with a -shudder he shook himself free from the illusion. - -Fifteen minutes later he too "retired for the night." After that, with -the cabin shrouded in darkness, he sat and listened to the sounds of the -night. - -Curious sounds they were to one who knew nothing of wild life; the -shrill, long-drawn whistle of some bird calling to his mate; the throaty -call of a bull moose from down the bay, and that piercing scream of the -loon, never failing to set his blood running cold. - -He thought he caught the sound of footsteps. The guard! What if he -appeared and discovered all that had been done? He listened long for a -rattle at the lock, but none came. - -At last, standing erect, he stretched himself like a cat, then said in a -hoarse whisper: - -"I'm taking down the wall." - -In absolute silence he lifted the birch poles from their places. He put a -hand to the topmost log. It did not yield to his pull. - -"Spiked on the other side." - -He tried the second one. - -"Ah!" - -It came away. Without a sound he placed it at his feet. A second, a -third, fourth, fifth. Still no sound. - -An opening three feet wide now lay before him. He put out a hand. It -touched some one. Groping about, he found the girl's hand, then guided -her through the opening. - -"It is strange," he thought. "I have never seen this person. Is she dark -or fair, beautiful or ugly?" - -One or two things he could know. She was short and rather plump. Her -muscles were hard. He was surprised at this. He had supposed that rich -men's daughters were always soft and white. - -He drew the girl to a place on the bench beside him. She was trembling. -As her shoulder pressed against his, he felt the wild beating of her -heart. This would never do. She must be calm. - -As for his own feelings, he had gone cold all over, just as he had at the -beginning of every gridiron battle. - -"Warm enough when time comes for action," he told himself. It had always -been that way. - -The time for action had not yet come. They continued to listen there in -the dark; a boy and a girl; the girl kidnaped for ransom which she -refused to assist in collecting, the boy carried away and held for he -knew not what. - -The ticking of their watches sounded loud in this lonely place. Water -lapped on the shore. From time to time there came a low bump-bump. - -"Rowboat tied to the dock," Red whispered to the girl. "Wonder if we -could get it?" - -She made no reply. - -From somewhere back in the forest a hoot owl began his silly noise. Red -did not know what it was. He asked the girl about it. She explained -briefly. - -"Hope he keeps it up," he sighed. "Cover up any little nasty sounds we -may stir up." - -"Will there be noises?" The girl seemed to shrink. Then suddenly her form -stiffened. "Count me in on--on anything. They are dirty dogs, these -kidnapers; deserve the worst!" - -"Yes, the very worst!" Red agreed. - -He felt loath to leave this place of warmth and momentary peace. There -was something altogether agreeable about being so near to this girl he -had never seen. "Well, the zero hour approaches." - -"Yes." She sprang to her feet. "Let's make it now!" - -"Now it is." - -He rose to stand beside her. So for one full moment, side by side in the -dark, they stood. - -At last, with a long-drawn sigh, he seized her hand to lead her out into -the night. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - THE GHOST APPEARS - - -The mysterious disappearance of Red Rodgers, or the Red Rover, as every -one knew him, caused a great commotion. Had a President been assassinated -it could not have caused a greater stir. - -Not an hour had passed after he vanished before the newspapers came out -with an extra with a story telling in detail all that was known about the -affair. - -"Red Rover," the story ran, "has never cared for crowds. Being the star -of the team, he has often of late been all but mobbed by impetuous -youths, foolish old women and infatuated girls. For this reason he had -formed a friendship with the watchman at the tracks by the river where -the trains are made up. To-night, once safely past this watchman, he went -directly to his berth and turned in for the night. - -"It is to be assumed that he fell asleep at once, for, though the -watchman was not two hundred yards away, he heard no outcry such as might -be expected had the boy been surprised while asleep and gagged before -fully awake. - -"There are few clues," the story went on to state. "In their haste the -kidnapers dragged a pillow from the berth. It was this pillow, standing -out white in the moonlight, that attracted the watchman's attention. The -watchman distinctly recalls hearing the sudden whir and thunder of a -powerful motor shortly before making this discovery. He believes this to -have been the motor of a speed boat, and has the impression that it went -south. - -"Various motives have been brought forward. The Rover, some say, was -kidnaped for ransom. He is the all-important factor in the game to be -played at the end of the week. Without him Old Midway cannot hope to win. -For this reason the kidnapers may have believed that a sum might be -extorted from officials of the university for his return. Knowing the -stand that President Lovell of Old Midway has taken against kidnapers, -and the work the Crime Institute of that university has done in this -connection, it is the opinion of those close to the president that no -ransom will be paid. - -"We have before us the question: Was the Red Rover kidnaped for ransom or -as a retaliation for work against master criminals carried on by the -university? There are those who will whisper that the school against whom -the Red Rover was to have played is behind this affair. This, to any -fair-minded person, is unthinkable. - -"Sergeants Drew Lane and Tom Howe, two of the keenest young minds of the -city's detective force, have been assigned to the case. It is the hope of -the entire city that their labors will bear fruit and that the Red -Rover's beloved sorrel top will be seen in the line when the line-up is -formed for the greatest game of the year." - -An hour had not passed after the discovery of the crime, when the -broad-shouldered, athletic Drew Lane, with derby pushed well back on his -head, stood beside his slim, hawk-nosed partner overlooking the car yards -at the spot where the Red Rover had vanished. - -"Let's have a look inside the car," suggested Howe. - -"You look." Drew Lane turned toward the river. "If a speed boat left the -river near this spot, there'll be marks to show. May get a sure tip -showing the direction she was headed. That's important." - -Sergeant Howe swung up to the platform of the car, then slipped quietly -inside. The place seemed deserted. A double row of curtains, one on -either side, flanked the narrow, dimly lighted aisle. - -"Ready for the night. All the other players get on at the depot, I -suppose," Howe mumbled in a low monotone. - -He paused to look and listen. He had always found a sleeping car, made up -for the night, a spooky affair. Dim lights, silence, long rows of -curtains. And behind the curtains, what? Death? Perhaps. Men have died of -heart disease in their berths. Died of a knife in the heart as well. - -"Capital place for a murder." - -Involuntarily he looked behind him. Had he caught the sound of light -footsteps? - -There was no one in sight. "Boo! Who'd bother to bump off a city -detective!" He laughed a low, unpleasant laugh. "We're supposed to be too -dumb to do anything disturbing to criminals. - -"All the same!" He straightened up with a snap. "This is a case where we -_must_ win. We simply _must_! The Red Rover must be in the line-up when -the big day comes. And it's up to Drew and me!" Howe was a loyal son of -Old Midway. Loyalty to his Alma Mater compelled him to do his best. More -than that, Red Rodgers was the type he admired, a silent worker. - -"He works," Drew Lane had said once, with a note of admiration in his -voice. "He's like you, Howe. He digs in and says never a word." - -"Digs in," Howe muttered. "That's what we must do; dig in hard." - -With that he went gliding down the aisle to pause before Section Nine. - -"Ah!" he breathed as he parted the curtains. "Seems I am in time. Nothing -disturbed." - -His keen, hawk-like eyes took in all at a glance. The hammock, where -clothing was deposited for the night, was gone. - -"Just yanked it down and took it, clothes and all. You might think from -that that Red had something they wanted in his clothes. Guess not, -though." - -His eyes wandered from corner to corner of the narrow space. "Covers -gone. Wrapped him in them and tied him up. Need to do that. Scrapper, Red -is. Take six of those soft, beer-soaked bums to hold him if he had an -even break. You--" - -He broke off to stare at the center of the lower sheet which still -remained on the bed. At its very center was a deep dent. - -"Stepped there," he told himself, "one of 'em." - -Switching on his flashlight, he examined the sheet in minute detail. - -"Not a mark," he muttered. "Take it along all the same." - -"You all goin' t' take that sheet?" The porter was at his elbow. - -"Sure am." Howe showed his star. - -"All right, Mister Police. Ah cain't stop you. But t'ain't no sort of -use. Ain't no marks on that sheet. I examined it particular." - -"Were you here when the thing happened?" Howe's eagle eyes snapped. - -"No. Oh, no, suh! Ah don't come on 'fore half a hour ago." - -"But you weren't far away," Howe thought to himself. "Hiding in the linen -closet, like as not. Bribed you, maybe. Wonder how much it would cost to -buy a porter?" - -"What's your number?" he demanded sharply. - -"Three twenty-seven." The porter's wide eyes rolled. "But hones', Mister -Policeman, I don' know nothin', nothin' at all! But you take that sheet, -just take it right square along." - -"Did you find something, Sergeant?" a fresh voice broke in. - -"Just a sheet that had been stepped on." Howe looked into the frank, -fearless eyes of a boy. It was Johnny Thompson. You know Johnny. - -"Gee!" Howe muttered. "I'm glad to see you! Are you in this with us?" - -"All my heart and hand!" The hand Johnny gave to Howe was as hard as a -rock. "This will be a night and day affair. I'm glad. That's the sort I -like." - -"Day and night and all the time," Howe answered. "But let's get out of -here. The section is due to move, and I've finished. Drew's scouting -around down by the river." - -Thus, while the forces that make for evil had been whirling Red Rodgers -northward, the forces that make for good, like faithful watch dogs, were -assembling, making ready to take up the trail, heedless of the perils -that most certainly lurked beside the way. - -The pair had just alighted from the car when of a sudden a startling -figure appeared before them. Rounding the end of the car it started -toward them--a skeleton with bones bleached white, a white robe flowing -behind it! This was the form that in the dim light of the car-yard -approached them. - -With an involuntary exclamation Johnny started back. Not Tom Howe. With -the spring of a panther he was upon the creature. Next instant he was -sprawling upon the ground. He had received such a blow on the head as put -him out for the count of ten. Then, with a laugh as hollow as a voice -from a graveyard at midnight, the skeleton set off at a long striding -gallop. He was lost from sight before Johnny could recover from his -surprise or Tom Howe could scramble to his feet. - -"A--a galloping ghost!" Johnny exclaimed, as he bent over his companion. -"Are you hurt?" - -"No--not much." Howe was coming round. "Hardly at all. But, man! Oh, man! -What hard knuckles that ghost has!" - -"What's this? A ghost?" Once more a new voice broke in upon them. - -Johnny looked up, then scowled. He had recognized the voice of a reporter -from the city's pink journal. He hated the paper and disliked this -reporter. But when one speaks of a ghost he needs must explain. - -Explain he did, and that with the least possible number of words. - -"A ghost! A galloping ghost on the scene of a kidnaping that is sure to -cause a nation-wide search! What a scoop!" The reporter was away even -before Johnny had completed his meager description. - -"A galloping ghost." Johnny pronounced the words slowly as Howe, now -quite recovered, stood up beside him, then scowled. "What do you make of -that?" - -"Not a thing," Howe answered bluntly. "But, after all, the real question -is, is this ghost for us or against us?" - -"Do ghosts always take sides?" - -"Oh, inevitably!" Howe laughed a short cackling laugh that went far -toward relieving the tension of the moment. - -"Come!" he said. "Let's see what Drew has been doing. He-- - -"Watch out! Duck!" Seizing Johnny's arm with a vice-like grip, he dragged -him down. - -Not an instant too soon. There came the crack of a pistol, followed by -the dull thwack of a bullet against the side of the car just over their -heads. And after that a cold, dead silence. - - - - - CHAPTER V - RED WINS TO LOSE - - -Drew Lane, Tom Howe's team mate, had not seen the Galloping Ghost. In -truth it was some distance from the sleeping car to the river bank. After -picking his way across the tracks, flashing his light this way and that -in search of clues--some article dropped in hasty flight, a broken match, -a cigaret thrown away--he came at last to a narrow stretch of -rock-strewn, cinder-embedded ground. - -Here his mood changed. Snapping off his light, he thrust one hand deep in -his coat pocket and sauntered forward like some college youth taking the -air. - -This was Drew Lane's favorite pose. With his faultless derby, his -spotless suit of sea-green and his natty tie, he carried it off well. -Many a tough egg had called him a "fresh college kid," only to find -himself the next moment lying on the sidewalk feeling of a lump on his -jaw caused only by Drew's capable fist. - -That fist at this moment was curled around a nasty looking thing of blue -steel. At a second's notice Drew could set that blue steel pal of his -spouting fire, right through his pocket. And his aim, while indulging in -this type of shooting, was the despair of all evil doers. - -Drew was approaching what appeared to be a dangerous spot. In the half -darkness before him a great steam shovel mounted on a dredge stood with -crane outstretched like some fabled bird ready to bend down and pluck his -lifeless body from the river. Plenty there were, too, who would have -witnessed the act with a grunt of satisfaction. - -As he approached the dredge a small craft, moored ahead of the dredge and -smelling strongly of fish, gave forth a hollow bump-bump. - -Fearlessly the young detective hopped aboard this fishing schooner. For a -moment his light flashed here and there. - -"No one," he muttered. - -Hopping ashore, he made his way to the scow supporting the dredge. Having -reached it, he dropped on hands and knees, to creep its entire length. -From time to time, with the aid of his flashlight, he examined several -posts and the outer surface of the scow. When at last he stood once more -upon his feet it was with a grunt of satisfaction. - -"Went south," he muttered. "Speed boat, all right. Wonder how far? Go up -the river in the morning. Find out--" - -His thoughts were broken short off by the bark of an automatic. One shot, -that was all; then silence. - -With the spring of a panther Drew was off the barge, across the narrow -open space and lost in the labyrinth of sleeping cars. - -In an astonishingly short time he was close to the scene of the -mysterious kidnaping. - -"Tom! Tom Howe!" he called softly. "Are you there?" - -There came no answer. Only from the river came the hollow bump-bump of -the fishing schooner. "Tom! Tom Howe!" he called. Still no answer. - -Then, without warning, the car before him began to move. For lack of a -better thing to do, he hopped aboard and went rattling away into the -city's great depot. - - * * * * * * * * - -It was during this same night, at a somewhat later hour, that Red Rodgers -and the mysterious girl stood in the obscurity of the cabin doorway. -Breathing hard and peering out into the night, they were poised as if for -flight. - -The slight hold of the lock had been broken. They were free to go. But -which way? They were on an island. How long was this island? How large -was the island? What was its nature? Was it all tangled forest? Were -there trails, clearings, deserted cabins? To these questions Red could -form no answers. - -"We'd better have a try for their boat," he whispered. - -In answer the girl pressed his arm. - -Then together they stole out in the night. The shadow of a giant spruce -tree swallowed them up. - -After that, to an impersonal observer there might have appeared a gliding -bit of darkness from time to time, followed by two black figures leaping -at one another by the foot of the small dock. - -The action of the figures increased in its intensity, yet there was no -sound. They writhed and twisted. One went down upon a knee, but was up -again on the instant. They went over in a heap to roll upon the ground. -They tumbled about until they reached the dock and all but tumbled into -the icy water. - -Then, as suddenly as it began, the struggle ceased. - -For ten brief seconds one figure sat upon his opponent. Then he beckoned. -A third figure appeared. Groping about the dock, this figure at last -seized upon some object that cast little shadow. This it handed to the -crouching figure. - -Some seconds of suspense, and at last two figures, one tall, one short, -stood side by side looking at the water and the dock. - -As they stood there, some trick of the moonlight and shadows made their -two forms appear to melt into one; and that form presented a spectacle of -abject despair. Thirty seconds this pose was held. Then the shadow -appeared to explode and two figures melted into the shadows to the right. - -What had happened? Red Rodgers had fought a battle and won, only to find -that he had in reality lost. While groping his way toward the dock he had -been detected and pounced upon by the kidnapers' guard. - -From earliest childhood Red had been prepared. A boy, reared among the -tough fists of a steel town school, must be. When, in his teens, he had -wrestled with red hot steel, this instinct for absolute preparedness had -been intensified. Football had added to this training. When one considers -that he was as quick as a panther, as strong as a lion and as cool-headed -as a prize fighter, one must know that the flabby guard stood little -chance. Instantly Red's arm was about his neck in a clinch that prevented -the least outcry. - -The outcome of the battle you already know; but not quite. When the boy -had conquered his opponent, when he had bound and gagged him, he went to -look for the rowboat. Then it was that his lips formed a single word: - -"Gone!" - -And the girl, who in the moonlight seemed pitifully small, echoed: - -"Gone!" - -Where was this boat? Had it drifted away? Or had a second kidnaper rowed -away to a second island, lying a stone's throw away, for help? - -No answer could be found. One thing remained to be done: to vanish into -the night. This the strange pair lost no time in doing. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - THE RED ROVER GETS THE BREAKS - - -Drew Lane entered his room at three o'clock that morning. He and Tom Howe -occupied a room together in the Hotel Starling. It was a very large -place. Their room was on the top floor. - -Throwing his coat over a chair he sank into a place by a table in the -corner and allowing his head to drop on his arm tried to collect his -thoughts. He had been following clues. A reporter from the News had given -him a "hot tip" that grew cold almost at once. Casey from the State -Street Police Station had given him another. It had led to nothing. After -that he had begun setting traps. Calling in three trusted stool-pigeons, -he had laid out their tasks for them. Having consulted his chief, he had -begun laying plans for raiding all known hang-outs for kidnaping gangs. -After that he had picked up a copy of the city's pink sheet and had read -in glaring headlines: - -GHOST NO LONGER WALKS. HE GALLOPS. - -He had read with some surprise the story of the Galloping Ghost. - -"Rotten bit of sensation," he muttered. "I saw no ghost. Don't believe -Howe did either. But that shot? Who fired it?" - -He glanced at Howe's bed in the corner. Howe lay across it fully clad, -sound asleep. - -"Like to ask him," Drew muttered. "Like--" - -He made a sudden move with his arm. Some unusually hard object rested -beneath it. - -To his surprise he found on the table a coarse brown envelope. On the -face of it was scrawled: - -_Sergeants Lane and Howe._ - -Turning it over, he dumped its contents upon the table. A handful of -shavings and one very misshapen bullet, that was all; or so he thought -until he thrust in a hand and drew forth a much crumpled bit of paper. - -With a quick intake of breath, he flattened the paper on the table. - -Words were scrawled across the page. The writing was very bad, as if a -right-handed man had undertaken to write with his left hand. In time he -made out the message. - -_Here are some important clues. Guard them with care. When raids are made -you will collect firearms. Collect pocket knives as well. You will hear -from me later._ - - "_The G.G._" - -"Some crank," Drew muttered. - -Then a thought struck him all of a heap. How had the message gotten into -their room? - -"Howe brought it. - -"No. That is impossible. Had he read that note he would have folded it -neatly. That's Howe every time." - -Well, here was fresh mystery. And what of these clues? A bullet. That was -always important. But where had it been found? He examined it closely. -"Wood sticking to it," he muttered. "Been dug out." - -But what of the shavings? These too he examined. After studying them -carefully he was convinced that some one, while waiting for a second -person perhaps, had occupied his time whittling a bit of soft wood he had -picked up. - -"The world is strewn with such piles made by whittle-bugs," he told -himself. He was tempted to toss them into the waste paper basket. Instead -he slid them back into the envelope. - -After that he read the note through again. "Collect pocket knives." His -voice took on a note of disgust. "What could be the good of that?" - -"'You will hear from me again.' Well, here's hoping." - -He threw the envelope to a back corner of the table. But startling -revelations would drag it again to the light. - -"Collect pocket knives." Down deep in his heart he knew that he would -start this collection to-morrow. He hated doing silly things. But more -than this he dreaded making fatal blunders. "A clue is a clue," he had -said many times, "be it faint as a moon at midday." - - * * * * * * * * - -The battle Red Rodgers waged after leaving the cabin at the edge of the -narrow clearing on that mysterious island was something quite outside his -past experience. True, he was not unacquainted with struggle and peril. -More than once in the vast steel mill he had watched hot sheet steel, -caught by a defective roller, curl itself into a serpent of fire, and had -dodged in the nick of time. On the gridiron, with mad crowds screaming, -with forms leaping at him from right and left, he had over and over -battled his way to victory. - -Now he faced neither man-made steel nor man himself, but nature. Before -him in the dark lay a primeval wilderness; a small wilderness, to be -sure, but a real one for all that. Here, on a rocky ridge scarcely one -hundred yards wide, for ages without number trees had fought a battle to -the death. - -He had not gone a dozen paces when he tripped and fell. - -He felt ashamed that the girl must put out a slender hand to guide him. -"I--I've never been in a forest," he half apologized. - -"Not even by day?" The girl's awed whisper showed her astonishment. Her -next remark gave him a shock. "Then you have never truly lived." - -Gladly would he have argued this point. But this was no time for mere -talk. It was a time for action. They were on an island within a bay. The -bay reached far, to a larger island. The larger island was far from the -mainland. If the kidnaper's statement was to be accepted, there were no -people on this larger island save the kidnapers themselves. - -"I wonder if there are other cabins on this island?" He whispered this -more to himself than to the girl. She answered nevertheless. - -"There are none. We must get away as far as we can. To the far end of the -island. Then we must think what is to be done next. Come, we must go. -Follow close behind me." - -For a full half hour after that they waged a silent battle with nature. -Over fallen trees that now tore at them with their tangled branches and -now sank treacherously beneath their feet, around rocky ridges that -offered dangerous descents into tiny valleys so dark that one might not -see his hand before him, they struggled on until with a sigh the girl -whispered: - -"A trail." - -Too engrossed was Red in the unaccustomed struggle to ask: "What has made -this trail?" - -He was soon enough to know. In his pocket he carried a small flashlight. -Judging that they were now far enough from the cabin to use this, he -pressed the button, then cast the light down the trail. - -Instantly he sprang back. The light was reflected by a pair of large and -burning eyes. - -A confused impression of brown hair, of antlers like spiked slabs of -wood, and those burning eyes held him rooted to the spot until the girl's -hand at his elbow guided him off the trail and into the broad-spreading -branches of a fir tree. There, after a false step, he tumbled into the -fragrant boughs. - -Without willing it, he drew the girl after him. After that, for a full -moment he remained half reclining, feeling the wild beating of the girl's -heart and listening for he scarcely knew what. - -When he heard the sound he recognized it; a slow, soft-padded -plump-plump, and he was relieved. - -"The thing we have met on the trail," he told himself, "was not a horned -demon, but a giant moose." That he had been utterly at a loss, and that -the girl had directed their course in a safe and sensible manner, he also -recognized. - -After listening to the padded footsteps until they faded out into the -silence of the night, he assisted the girl to her feet and whispered: - -"You are not a real person. You come from a book. Your name is Alice, and -we are having adventures in Wonderland." - -"I am real enough." She laughed a low laugh. "My name is not Alice, but -Berley Todd. I am five feet tall and I weigh ninety pounds. My favorite -dish is blueberries with ice cream on top." She laughed again. - -"And that moose, I suppose, was quite an old friend." - -"I suppose not. But a moose will not harm you if you give him the right -of way, which I suppose is fair enough since this is his forest. - -"But come. We must be near the end of the island." - -Red did not ask, "How do you know this?" He merely followed on. - -Scarcely a moment had passed when they came out upon a pebbly shore. And -there, as he flashed his light about, he discovered a nondescript raft of -spruce logs. Dragged half way up on the shore, it seemed for all its -crudeness to be a rather substantial affair. - -"I suppose," he said in a low tone, "that this entire affair has been -arranged. You knew the raft was here." - -Becoming suspicious, he flashed his light into a pair of very -innocent-appearing blue eyes. "I suppose," he said slowly, "you know why -I have been carried away." - -"Don't you?" The eyes opened wide. - -"As I live, no." - -"Then you'll have to ask some one else. It's plain enough why they took -me. Want my dad's money. Expect my help in getting it. They'll have no -help from me! - -"And now, Mister Man-who-don't-know-why-he's-here, let's thank kind -Providence for this raft which some summer fisherman left here, and shove -off. Looks like we might go across with nothing more than wet feet. What -luck!" - -"And what do you think is on the other shore?" - -"Cabins. Cabins and cottages, fireplaces, blankets, easy chairs, and -things to eat; not so near, but not so far away, either." - -Red stared at her in silence. Did this girl speak from knowledge of the -island, or was she romancing, bolstering up courage with dreams that -might prove false? - -He dared not ask. Putting his stout shoulders to work at shoving off the -raft, he had it afloat at once. Then, after selecting a stout spruce pole -and assisting the girl to a place beside him, he shoved away toward that -other shore that, looming dark and distant, seemed to beckon and to -whisper of "cabins and fireplaces, blankets, easy chairs, and things to -eat." - -"Well," he sighed, "thus far we get the breaks." - - - - - CHAPTER VII - A JOURNEY IN THE NIGHT - - -While Drew Lane sat meditating on the various aspects of the kidnaping, -Tom Howe groaned and sat up. - -"Drew," he drawled, rubbing his head, "I've been felled by a ghost, a -galloping ghost." - -"You don't mean to say you believe that stuff!" Drew held up the pink -sheet. - -"I believe," said Howe with a wry grin, "that I have a large lump on the -top of my head and that it's sore. I believe it was put there by a thing -that looked like a ghost. That's all I have to say about that." - -"Well, then, what have you to say about this?" Drew held up the envelope -containing the shavings and bullet. - -"What is it?" - -Drew showed him the contents and read the note. - -"Curious sort of writing," he ended. "And look how he signed it: 'The -G.G.'" - -"That," drawled Howe, "could stand for 'The Galloping Ghost.'" - -"It _must_!" Drew struck the table with his fist. "But why all the -secrecy?" - -"That," Howe replied thoughtfully, "will probably come out later. The -only question that matters seems to be: Is this ghost with us or against -us?" - -"With us. Can't be any doubt about that." - -"Then we'd better follow his suggestions." - -"Collect pocket knives?" - -"Why not? Interesting collection. What sort of knives do crooks carry? -Bet you can't tell. Well, now we'll know." - -"Guess you're right. But say!" Drew exclaimed. "What did you get from the -car, the one the Red Rover was snatched from?" - -"A bed sheet." Howe held it up. - -"Marked?" - -"Not a mark." - -"Then what--?" Drew stared at his partner. - -"Some one had stepped on the bed, probably with his shoe on. I thought -I'd try the ultra-violet ray on it. Surprising what it brings out -sometimes." - -"Probably worth a try." Drew was not enthusiastic. Howe had gone in for -scientific crime detection lately. Drew was still for going out and -getting his man. - -"Howe," he demanded after a moment of silence, "who fired that shot back -there in the train yards?" - -"You answer that. A hand was all I saw, a hand thrust out from behind a -car. Fired point-blank at me. And missed." - -"This may be the bullet," Drew mused, weighing the battered bullet from -the mystery envelope in his hand. - -"It might be. Don't seem likely, though. That bullet struck the side of a -steel car." - -"Might have glanced. Mighty fine evidence. Find the gun that fired this -bullet and you've got the man. Gun scratches the bullet as no other gun -would. Microscope brings out that, doesn't it?" - -"Sure does. You find the man and his gun. I'll do the rest." Howe gave -vent to a low chuckle. "Nothing would please me more! Not a nice thing, -this being shot at." - -"Kidnapers are not nice people." Drew's tone changed. "Fact is, they're -about the worst people in all the world. Should be shot at sunrise, every -man of 'em. - -"It's not so bad," he philosophized, "stealing diamonds. They're only a -lot of stones after all. And money. 'Who steals my purse steals trash. -'Twas mine. 'Tis his, and has been a curse to thousands.' - -"But think!" He sprang to his feet. "Think of the cowards that steal a -human life, a helpless woman, an innocent child, and then send back word, -'Money, much money, or we will take the life of this one we have -snatched.' - -"That--why, that's like going into battle holding a woman before you to -stop the bullets! Howe, old boy, we've got a task laid out for us, a -man-sized task, and we're going to do it! You see if we don't!" - -Howe smiled in a quiet way. A quiet chap, was this slender detective; -quiet, but feared in the underworld as many a big blustering cop was not. - -"Drew," he said after a long silence, "why did they snatch the Red -Rover?" - -"Revenge, perhaps. The university has been fighting kidnapers. Think what -a bold stroke it would be to carry off their super-star just a few days -before the final great game of the season!" - -"Sounds pretty," said Howe thoughtfully. "But it doesn't click. Crooks -waste little time on revenge. Dough is what they are after. Money. Money. -Money. That is their long cry." - -"But where's there money in snatching a football star?" - -"Who knows? Perhaps they're being paid." - -"Paid? By whom?" - -"Northern wants to win. Isn't Northern Old Midway's ancient rival? -Doesn't the championship hang in the balance? What's a few thousand -dollars when such a prize is at stake?" - -"But universities are not like that!" - -"Not the schools. Of course not. But alumni. Who can say what some rich -and over-enthusiastic alumnus would risk to see that game won?" - -"Not much sense to that." - -"Perhaps not. But what then?" - -"They may be hoping that Old Midway will dig deep to get their star -back." - -"If that's the racket we'll know soon enough. There'll be letters, phone -calls, demanding ransom. What say we turn in? To-morrow is just around -the corner. And to-morrow we must be out and after 'em." - -"What's the first move?" - -"Trace that speed boat down the river, the one that carried him away. It -went south, that's clear enough. I saw where they tied up to an old scow. -Scraped her side when they left; rubbed off a lot of mud. The shape of -the spot showed plain enough which way they were going. Somehow we've got -to find their hide-out and get the Red Rover back." - -Had the speaker been privileged to see the Red Rover at that moment ankle -deep in icy water, making his way as best he could with pole and -improvised paddle on a raft that, turning round and round, seemed to go -nowhere, he would surely have understood that a long trail lay before -him. Not being granted such a vision, he crawled into his bed and went -sound asleep. - - * * * * * * * * - -There was no sleep for Red Rodgers and his mysterious little friend on -the raft. - -There had been clumsy, flat-bottomed boats in the rust-blackened slips -where monster ore boats lay near Red's boyhood home, but no rafts. - -Just how does one propel a raft? By a long pole where water is shallow. -But one does not endeavor to drive the raft in the direction he wishes to -go. He is more likely to achieve his end if he shoves in the opposite -direction. For a raft, like an ox, a mule or a reindeer, is likely to go -its own cranky way. - -This Red learned soon enough. Scarcely had he begun poling than the raft -started spinning like a top. It was only under the girl's expert -direction that he at last started for the shore that loomed dark and -ragged in the distance. - -They had not gone a dozen yards when the bottom sank beneath the end of -the pole. - -"Now we must paddle." Heedless of the icy water, the girl dropped upon -one knee, seized a narrow slab of wood and began a vigorous dip-dip that -in time, it seemed, must take them somewhere. - -Following her example, Red, on the opposite side, did his bit. - -Under this treatment the raft behaved admirably. Keeping in view only the -shore they had left, they paddled for a good half hour when, with a shock -that all but sent them splashing into the water, they struck a hard -object that gave out a hollow sound. - -"Shore?" There was relief in Red's tone. - -"No shore." The girl stood up. Her head struck something and she bounced -down again. - -"Thunder and guns! What now?" Red turned about to stare with all his -eyes. The thing they had bumped into was a hydroplane, the very one that -had carried them to this deserted spot. - -"Oh!" The girl seized his arm. "Can--can you fly it?" Hope and fear were -mingled in her tone. - -"I--I'm sorry," Red stammered. "To-night I took my first airplane -journey. - -"And I can't say I wanted to come," he added as a witty afterthought. - -"But say!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You just hang on here a bit. I--I'll -be right back." - -They were beneath one of the machine's great wings. Reaching up, he swung -himself to the upper surface, and disappeared into the dark. - -"Dangerous business," he muttered to himself. "May have heard that bump, -those fellows. May see my light. Might come upon us here any minute, but -it's a chance you can't pass up." - -By dropping here, climbing there, then moving over to the right, he -reached one of the twin motors. There, after flashing his light for a -moment, he put out a hand, fumbled about, then pocketed a small object. -These actions were repeated when he reached the second motor. - -After that, with a sigh of relief, he dropped back upon the raft. - -"Fix 'em!" he muttered. "Fix 'em plenty, the dirty dogs! - -"Now come on. Let's get out of here quick! Wish we could take one of -those pontoons for a boat; but that's impossible." - -A cloud had gone over the moon. He felt the girl's cold hand as she -steadied him down to a safe place of balance on the raft, and he chided -himself for being so long. - -"Cabins," he whispered. "Cabins with fireplaces, easy chairs, blankets, -and things to eat." - -All this seemed very, very far away. And yet with youth "hope springs -eternal." - -Once again they worked their imperfect oars. In a surprisingly short time -they once more bumped. With a low cry of hope, the girl sprang ashore. - -"There should be a trail," she called back. - -"Moose trail?" - -"Moose and men. Here! Here it is! We go this way." - -She led on over a trail so carpeted with moss that their footsteps made -no sound. - -"This girl knows a lot about this island," Red said to himself. "How -come?" - -Once again he was tempted to believe that she was in league with the -kidnapers. "That doesn't make sense either. Mixed up mess. Just have to -tramp on and see how it all comes out." - -He tramped on. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - "THE RAT" - - -The path followed by Red Rodgers and the girl was little more than a wild -animal trail along the edge of a wilderness. - -Evening dew had placed its cold wet hand over all. Here they passed -through clumps of alder that showered icy drops upon them, here waded -waist deep in ferns that were like a tossing sea, and here again they -crowded their way through clusters of young spruce huddled close together -like children afraid of the night. - -They had not gone a quarter of a mile when they were soaked to the skin. -Still, without a word, the girl, gripping Red's small flashlight, trudged -pluckily forward. - -"We could lose ourselves in this wilderness," Red commented. - -"Not if we follow the shore." - -That, Red told himself, was true enough. But where would the shore lead -them? To cabins, fireplaces, chairs, things to eat? He fancied that this -girl had been romancing, dreaming to keep up her courage. - -"Queer old world," he told himself. "Here I was, twenty-four hours ago, -watched over like a child. Must eat this, must not eat that. Must sleep -so long. Was there an ache, a slight sprain? Send for the rub-doctor. Did -I cough once? Send in the M.D. And now this. In the wilderness. Drenched -to the skin. No doctor. No osteopath. No one to tell me what to eat. -Free! - -"And yet, such freedom! I may be caught any time and brought back. - -"Back to what?" He shuddered. Well, they'd have to find him. That would -be difficult. And then they'd have a fight on their hands. He was strong, -as strong as a bull moose. They'd not get that girl again without a -fight. - -"Queer sort of girl," he mused. "Queer place this. You meet a moose on -the trail, you politely step aside and he walks calmly past. You'd think -he'd snort and vanish or roar a challenge and charge. Never heard of such -things. That girl's got the place bewitched. I--" - -"Look!" The girl had come to a halt. One hand was on his arm. With the -other she parted the bushes. "Do you see?" - -"See what?" - -"That dark spot over yonder." - -"Y-yes." - -"It's another island. There's a cabin on it, and a boat house. Boats too. -And in the cabin there is a fireplace and easy chairs, blankets, and--and -things to eat." She swayed a little. - -"It--it's not far." She steadied herself on his arm. "I--I think I could -swim it." - -"But you'll not!" Red began stripping off his coat. "I'll swim it and -bring back a boat. Here, hold this. I'll take off my shoes, too. The rest -doesn't matter. I'll be soaked anyway." - -Another moment and he was in the water swimming strongly. - -Red was a fine swimmer. In the slips where rusty ore boats lay at anchor -in his home city he had learned to swim before he could talk well. - -The distance to the island he found surprisingly short. Before he knew it -he was touching rocky shoals that led up to a low bank lined with spruce -and birches. - -As he stood there shaking the water from him like a spaniel, he saw a -dark bulk to his right. - -"Boat house." He flashed the electric torch, which he had carried across -in his teeth. - -"And there's the cabin." Once again his light darted about. There -appeared to be a number of small cabins grouped around a larger central -one. - -"Mysterious sort of place!" he told himself. "Wonder who built it. Who -lives there? And when?" - -A cold blast of wind came sweeping up the narrow channel. It chilled him -to the bone. - -"Going to storm. I must get back. - -"A fireplace and easy chairs, blankets, things to eat," he whispered as -he stumbled along over the slippery stones. - -He thought of the girl standing back there alone, drenched with dew, -chilled by the wind. - -"I must get back. At once!" He quickened his steps. - -On reaching the shore side door of the boat house, he found it locked. -With a mutter of disgust, he hurried along a narrow plank walk to the -other end. There he plunged waist deep into water, to make his way -beneath the great outer door. - -"Room for a rowboat beneath this door," he murmured. "Let 'em keep their -launch. No gas anyway." - -A swing of the light showed him a sizeable launch suspended above the -water. But that which gladdened his heart was a staunch little rowboat -tipped on its side and resting on a narrow ledge at the right of the hole -of black water. - -"All we ask," he grumbled. "Oars? Ah, yes! There they are. Now to tip her -over." - -This he accomplished without a sound. The oars dropped silently into -their places. He was in the act of pushing the boat into the black hole -of water when a blood-curdling scream, coming from the shore side, froze -every drop of blood in his veins. - -"They--they got her!" he gasped. "And after all this!" - -For a space of many seconds his heart stood still. Then it raced like an -engine without a governor. - -"They've got her. Will they keep her? We'll see!" - -Red's fighting blood was up. And could Red fight? Ask the boys of the -gridiron. Count them as they go down before him; one, two, three. Yes, -Red could fight. He could fight steel and had; could fight hard opponents -on the gridiron. And as for these kidnapers--dirty dogs, buzzards, beasts -in human form--he'd show 'em! - - * * * * * * * * - -It was at this same hour that Tom Howe received a visitor, and a very -curious specimen of humanity he was. You will need to become well -acquainted with him, as he plays an important role in our story. That is -one of the jolly features of this life we live; on life's stage the -humblest individual can, and often does, play an important role. - -This visitor, who knocked timidly on the young detective's door just as -he was dressing, was known all up and down the river front as "The Rat." -I say he was known; the truth is that he was known to but a few. As a -sort of compensation, those few knew him very well. Tom Howe knew him -well. - -He had a curious occupation, did the Rat. He found out things that people -wished to know. And his particular province was the river. He never left -it save to deliver a message. At night, in a narrow boat, little more -than a canoe and painted dark gray inside and out, he might have been -seen cruising up and down the river. Or rather, he was not likely to be -seen; his craft and his dirty, dull-colored garb blended in with -breakwaters, with piles and all manner of dark and shadowy places. - -Thus the Rat lurked about the river at night, gathering scraps of -information which might be sold for a price to certain gentlemen who -wished to know such things. - -Was the Rat particular regarding the character of his customers? Probably -not. Some were favored before others, for all that. Tom Howe and Johnny -Thompson might have his services at their very best, and that with no -thought of charge. Every creature, even a rat, has a sense of gratitude. -Johnny Thompson, who, as you will recall, was a great friend of Drew Lane -and Tom Howe, had once found the Rat dying of fever. He and Howe had -saved him from the hospital, which he dreaded with the fear of death, by -hiring a nurse to care for him in his river front hovel. - -Now, after an all-night search at Howe's request, he had something of -importance to report. - -The Rat had a way of seeming in a great rush. He puffed as he talked and -from time to time his sharp nose shot forward, his small black eyes -popped just as a rat's will. - -"Dat speed boat, it--it--dat boat," he puffed now, "you know de Wop what -camps under de Twelfth Street bridge?" - -"Yes, I know," Howe replied eagerly. - -"De Wop saw it. Fine speed boat. Very fast." - -"What color?" - -"Col-color? Can't see. Too dark. - -"You know de Chink got laundry by de river just past de scrap yard?" - -"Yes, I know him." - -"He heard de speed boat." The Rat took a turn around the room. - -"So it went that far?" - -"Dat far!" The Rat bulged his eyes. "Dat's not a start. You know de t'ree -bums dat hang round de old warehouse way down de river, de big -warehouse?" - -"Yes." - -"Dey saw it." - -"That's not strange," Drew Lane put in. "A speed boat comes near being a -curiosity that far down the river. They'd be sure to notice it." - -"Dat's it." The Rat took another turn around the room. "Dat's what I say. - -"You know de gypsies campin' by de river? Cottonwood trees grow on dat -place." - -"Yes. I know the place." - -"Dey don't see it, don't hear it." - -"Perhaps they were asleep." - -"No, no. Not dat. Squattin' by de fire, playin' cards. Dey don't hear dat -boat. Don't see it, I tell you." - -"Then," said Drew Lane, "our search narrows. The boat landed somewhere -between the old warehouse and the gypsy camp. Can't be more than six -blocks apart. Let's see, what's out that way?" - -"Some homes," said Howe. "Some shacks--abandoned, tumble-down places--a -roadhouse or two. The airport is not far away." - -"That's right, the airport." Drew said these words with little animation. -At that moment the airport did not enter deeply into his conscious -thoughts. In time it was to take on a deep significance. - -"All right, Rat. Good work! Here's your breakfast." Howe pressed a bill -into the Rat's paw-like hand. - -At this instant there came a loud banging at the door. - -With a startled glance the Rat sprang for a second door at the opposite -end of the room. This door opened into Tom Howe's tiny laboratory for the -scientific study of crime. The window of this room looked out on the fire -escape. - -Neither Drew Lane nor Tom Howe paid the slightest attention to the Rat's -going. He was by nature what his name implied; a loud banging at any door -found him seeking a hole through which he might escape. - -"Who's that at this hour of the morning?" Drew grumbled. - -"Search me." Tom Howe slipped a blue-barreled automatic into his coat -pocket, gripped it firmly in his left hand, then threw the door wide, to -exclaim: - -"Oh! So it's you!" - - - - - CHAPTER IX - RED GOES INTO ACTION - - -All his life Red Rodgers had been trained for action. In the steel mills -there come times when men are divided into two classes, the quick and the -dead. Red was not dead. The instant that piercing cry, coming from the -opposite shore, reached his ears, he was alert, ready to act. His hand, -already on the side of the rowboat, relaxed. - -"Oars creak," he murmured. - -Across the dark pool rested a canoe. He was there in a flash, canoe in -the water, paddle in place. - -"But a weapon!" - -He was, of course, unarmed. As his eyes roved about in that narrow space, -they fell upon a pike pole. With a stout eight-foot handle and a steel -point it was a weapon of a sort, spear or club, whichever he might -choose. Reaching for this, he placed it without a sound in the canoe. - -Then he slid out into the silent night. The wind, he found, was growing -stronger. It chilled him through. "Be warm enough soon." He set his teeth -grimly. - -Waves sweeping in from somewhere down the channel threatened to overturn -his fragile craft. He handled it with skill. Great black banks of cloud -came rolling across the sky. The darkness was intense; yet he knew his -direction. He pressed forward--to what? He could not say. - -"If it's a fight, it will be a good one." His hands grasped the paddle -with a grip of steel. "God is on the side of the fellow who fights for -the right. There's nothing right about men who carry away innocent girls -and then demand a reward for their return!" - -He was sending the canoe forward with strong, sweeping strokes. Now he -judged himself to be halfway across, now two-thirds. His pulse quickened. -Had he heard a sound? Some one moving? - -A question came suddenly into his mind. He ceased paddling. How should he -come upon them? In the canoe? He'd be knocked into the water, first pop. -Better to land below, then creep upon them. - -"Six inches of moss everywhere. I'll make no sound." - -He changed his course. The canoe shot away. - -He beached his canoe among alder bushes, then, pike pole in hand, crept -forward. Holding his breath he parted bushes here, crossed a log there, -climbed over a moss-covered boulder, then paused to listen. No sound save -the rush of water against rocky shores. Boo! How cold it was! How the -clouds raced! Going to snow. - -"Should be about there," he told himself, and his pulse pounded. - -Ten more steps on the yielding moss, and again he paused. "Just one or -two more trees." A black old spruce stood before him. "Just one or two, -and then--" - -But what was that? A voice? Some one humming low? Yes, there it was! - -"Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee, where the coyotes howl ee-e--" - -The song trailed off into nothing. - -He stood there too astounded to move. The voice was that of a girl. - -"It must be that girl, Berley Todd. But she--she screamed." - -Having regained his power of motion, he rounded the spruce tree's -spreading branches. - -And then the moon rolled out from behind a cloud. - -What he saw held him spellbound. There stood the girl, her graceful -figure swathed in dew-drenched clothing, her face scanning the black -waters as she still sang: - -"Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee--" - -A gasp of astonishment from his lips startled her. She turned with the -suddenness of a frightened deer. Then, as she saw his figure outlined -against the spruce tree, she cried: - -"It is you! I'm glad. I'm drenched with the dews of Heaven. I'm frozen to -a statue. Please, let's hurry!" - -Red said never a word. In response to her request he hurried. Five -minutes had not passed when their canoe bumped on the other shore. They -skirted the boat house, rounded a long low cabin and at last reached a -door. - -The door, which was fastened, yielded to Red's sturdy shoulder. Then they -were inside. - -"Oh-o!" the girl breathed. "How warm it seems! As if there were a fire." - -"There will be soon." - -Red flashed his torch about the room. A large fireplace, built of channel -rocks, was just before him. As if they had been expected, the fire was -laid, and a box of safety matches lay on the rustic mantel. - -A match flared, a slow yellow flame mounted higher and higher and filled -the room with light. - -"Oh!" the girl cried suddenly. "You are the Red Rover? I--I'm glad!" - -"That's what they call me." Red did not smile. "I--I'm sorry." - -"Sorry! Why are you sorry?" - -"Sorry that you know. I'd rather be plain Red Rodgers who works in a -steel mill and has ambitions of his own to become a foreman or a steel -tester, or something like that." - -She looked at him in a puzzled way. Then her mood changed. - -"Do you know, I believe you're wet. See! You are making puddles on the -floor. And I--I'm sort of dampish myself." - -"We'll have a look about," said Red. - -Fifteen minutes later they returned to the fire. The girl had garbed -herself in patched knickers a size too large, and a flaming red jacket. -Red wore a mechanic's coveralls. - -And now he said: "Perhaps you will tell me why you screamed." - - * * * * * * * * - -But what of Drew Lane and Tom Howe? And who was the one who stood banging -on their door at dawn? - -You will be surprised when I tell you it was none other than our old -friend, Johnny Thompson. Johnny was not in the habit of banging on doors -at dawn. At this moment, however, his business was urgent. - -"Just saw the Chief," he panted. "He sent me over hot-foot with a message -for you. He says you are to get those kidnapers without delay and return -the Red Rover to his squad." - -"That right?" Drew Lane arched his brows. "Didn't tell you where we'd be -likely to find these kidnapers, did he?" - -"He did, and he didn't," Johnny replied shortly. Being young and only an -amateur detective, he held the Chief of Police in great respect. For that -matter, so did Drew Lane. - -"The Chief says," Johnny went on after swallowing hard, "that 'the public -is already aroused. Why couldn't they have snatched a senator or a -governor instead of the greatest football star of the age?' That's what -he said. - -"There wasn't much time for saying anything." Johnny's excitement grew. -"Telephone jangling all the time. Newspaper men, university professors, -rich graduates, and all the little fellows who've bought tickets for -Soldiers' Field to see the Red Rover rove--all calling at once and -demanding that something be done! - -"The Chief says you are to raid these places." He passed a slip of paper -to Drew. "Suspected of kidnaping--the gangs that hang out in these -places." - -"Not without good reason," Drew grumbled. "You'd think--" - -The telephone rang. Drew snatched the receiver. "Sergeant Lane speaking." - -He listened a moment, then: - -"No, Chief. Just got the message. We'll get those raids off at once.... -Yes, some evidence--a bed sheet.... - -"No--no marks. Bullet, and some shavings.... - -"Seize all guns, oh, sure! How about jack-knives?... - -"Not customary? Not against the rules, is it?... A pocketknife is a -weapon?... Thought so. All right, I'll collect 'em." - -Johnny thought he heard the Chief grumble something about "fool college -kids collecting pocket knives." Then Drew hung up. - -"Well," Drew drawled, "time for a cup of coffee and a plate of hots; then -we've got to get out and give the public a great thrill by bringing those -kidnapers right in." - -"It won't be as easy as that, will it?" Johnny asked. - -"Not by a whole lot! The Red Rover must be in his place on the gridiron -of Soldiers' Field when the big game starts or the Police Department is -forever disgraced." - -"It's worse than that," Johnny put in solemnly. "The Chief says it means -his job and yours if we fail." - -"We? Are you with us?" Drew looked at the boy detective hopefully. - -"To the bitter end!" Johny grinned. "Never had less of other things to -do, and never wanted to do anything quite so much as to help find the Red -Rover. - -"Think what it means!" he enthused. "Think what sort of fellow the Red -Rover is. None of your rich man's pampered sons! A steel mill worker, -that's what he was. But he's a student as well as a star. Been leading -his class in chemistry and math. Been working his way, too. They say -Marmon, the big meat packer, offered to pay his way. He's a graduate of -Old Midway. But Red turned him down; said it wasn't his idea of good -sportsmanship, nor the idea of the Grand Old Man's. Said he was going on -his own. - -"And he has. Three years. Steel mill worker in summer, hotel clerk in -winter. Who wouldn't hunt for a chap like that? - -"Never had the swell-head either. Always pushing the other fellows ahead -of himself when he could. They say he has practically refused to take a -play through on more than one occasion when he considered the game won. -Insisted on the other chaps having a chance at a touchdown. Went in for -interference instead and did double duty. Who wouldn't want to go out and -help get some dirty crook who's snatched a chap like that? What did they -want him for? Revenge, or to get a wad of filthy greenbacks?" - -"Bravo!" Quiet Tom Howe sprang to his feet and clapped his hands. "Bravo! -That's a grand oration! I could go to work now without my coffee. - -"And, by George, I will! Come on in here, Johnny. I want you to help me -try a thing out." Tucking under his arm the bed sheet he had taken from -the Red Rover's car berth, he disappeared inside his cubby-hole of a -laboratory. Johnny followed. - -"I'll bring up a can of coffee and some doughnuts," Drew called. - -"O. K." was the muffled answer. - - - - - CHAPTER X - THE INVISIBLE FOOTPRINT - - -"I scream?" The girl in the patched knickers sitting before the roaring -fire stared at Red Rodgers. "Why should I scream?" - -"I don't know." Red was puzzled. "I only know I heard you." - -"But I did not scream." - -It was Red's turn to start. He had heard a scream. No man, even in mortal -agony, could scream in that manner. What did it mean? Who--? - -His thoughts were broken off by a sudden burst of laughter. It was the -mystery girl. - -"That--that," she stammered, with an effort at self control. "It was not -I who screamed, but a loon, a silly old loon! Have you never heard a loon -scream in the night?" - -"Never." - -"Then you are to be forgiven. When a loon goes about the business of -screaming in earnest, he can put a drowning woman to shame. We who have -heard them often become so accustomed to them that we scarcely hear them -at all." - -Red stared first at the girl, then at the fire. He was wondering in a -vague sort of way just how much he had missed by living all his life -within the confines of a city. He was to wonder this many times before -this business of being kidnaped and carried to a deserted island was -over. - -"I wonder what that old loon is doing here?" the girl mused. "All his -pals must have gone south by now. The gulls stay all winter. Some kinds -of ducks, too, and the jays and the chickadees. It can't be very lonely -here even in winter. Wouldn't it be thrilling if we had to stay here on -and on?" - -Red stared harder at the fire as he tried in vain to think what that -would be like. - -"You seem to know a lot about this island," he blurted out quite -suddenly. "How does it happen that kidnapers bring you to a place where -you have been before? Seems a trifle mixed." - -"I've wondered about that." Her big blue eyes were round and frank. "I -think I've got it figured out. Do you believe in God?" - -"Why, yes, I--I do. I've prayed about football sometimes; asked the One -who gave me my body to help me keep it clean and fit; asked Him, too, to -give me a clear brain and a sharp eye for every play." - -"Oh," she breathed, dropping a hand gently on his arm, "I'm glad! Because -I--I believe in God. I hope He outwits evil men. And I--I've sort of felt -that He saw that those men were going to carry us off, you and me, so He -sort of winked, don't you know, like the man in the moon seems to do, and -He said: 'I'll have those kidnapers take that boy and girl to the island -where the girl has spent her summers as long as she can remember.' And -so, don't you see? Here we are." - -"That," said Red with conviction, "that's great!" - -Reaching for a large spruce log, he threw it on the fire. When the shower -of sparks had subsided, he turned to her eagerly. - -"What place is this? Tell me about it, all you can. We--we may be parted -at any moment. And I--I need to know a lot. In the end they may get us, -at least one of us, and the other must be able to make his way out, in -the end, to see that justice is done." - -At the thought of the kidnapers he strode to the door and opened it a -crack. - -"Safe enough for the present." His tension relaxed. "It's snowing, -snowing hard. They'll never find us here in a snowstorm." - -"You are right," she replied quietly. Her eyes closed. They remained -closed so long that Red thought her asleep. But again they opened. "You -are right, they will not find us in the snow. You should know about this -place. I will tell you all I can. And then--then we must rest, for long, -hard hours are before us. It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to escape -from this place in November. But we must try." - -"What place is this?" the boy asked once more. - -"What? You don't know our island?" The girl's eyes opened wide. "This," -her tone became impressive, "this is Isle Royale!" - -"She expects me to be greatly surprised," Red said to himself. Out of -respect for her desire he did his best to show great astonishment. The -truth was that the part of social science that deals with the world we -live in had interested him very little. He was all for chemistry, -physics, mathematics. He had no more notion where Isle Royale was than -the Little Diomede Island, or King William's Land. He had never heard of -it. "But she evidently thinks it a great place," he told himself, "so -great it shall be." - -"Tell me more about it," he demanded at last. He was truly interested. If -he was to escape from this island, wild and uninhabited as it appeared to -be, he must at least know his way about. - - * * * * * * * * - -In the meantime, Tom Howe, in his box-like laboratory, had revealed to -Johnny Thompson's astonished eyes a bit of scientific crime detection -that for sheer cunning would have put any ancient astrologer or alchemist -to shame. - -Having spread the bed sheet taken from Red Rodger's berth out on a small -table, he had switched on a 200-watt lamp and had proceeded to examine it -inch by inch as he slid it across the table. - -"Not a mark," Johnny commented, as the examination was completed. - -"I'm not so sure," Howe drawled. "A man stepped on that sheet, a very -heavy man. He left a deep dent in the mattress and bedding. It's hard to -step on anything as clean as a sheet without leaving some sort of mark. - -"Let's see." He drew the sheet endwise until the very center rested on -the smooth top of the table. "It would be about there." - -He turned off the powerful light. At once the room was plunged in utter -darkness. - -Then, while Johnny waited as breathless as a child at his first picture -show, a curious violet light pervaded the room. - -"Look!" Tom Howe whispered, pointing to the center of the sheet. - -Johnny did look, and there, to his vast astonishment, he beheld quite -clearly outlined the footprint of a man. - -"The sole of a heavy shoe!" He was dumbfounded. "It was not there before! -And see! There are the marks of the nails; a heavy workman's shoe. You -could count those nails. And a heel of some hard, prepared stuff with the -maker's name wrong way over." - -"Yes," Howe added quietly, "and a deep, jagged cut across the sole. -Slipped on some sharp stone perhaps, when the sole was wet. That marks -the shoe. It's not like any other shoe in the world. Find that shoe, find -the man who wears it, and we have made a discovery of great importance." - -"But I don't understand!" Johnny was puzzled. "That mark was not there a -moment ago." - -"Nor is it now." Tom Howe chuckled. The violet light faded; the brilliant -white light flashed on. The footprint was gone. - -"Magic!" Johnny murmured. "Some form of magic. You can't convict a man -with magic." - -"Not magic, but science!" Howe's tone was impressive. "Crooks are -learning to use science as an aid in committing crimes. We must use -science to detect crimes." - -Once again the white light was gone; the violet light returned and with -it that mysterious vanishing footprint. - -"You see," Howe explained, "when that fellow entered the car to assist in -carrying the famous football star away, he had been walking over a -surface that contained some chemical solution. If he had passed over damp -coffee grounds, or through a forest where rank vegetable matter rotted, -the effect would have been as you see it now. His foot would have left a -mark invisible in white light, but quite clearly outlined when subjected -to the rays of an ultra-violet lamp. - -"This lamp," he went on, "has detected the secret writing of many a spy -and jailbird. A spy, wishing to forward a secret report, dips his pen -into a liquid made by soaking a few quinine pills in water. This writing -will not show in white light until it has been treated. He writes some -commonplace letter over this message and sends it forth. Our Secret -service men seize it, put it under the ultra-violet lamp, and there it -is; you can read every word. The moment the lamp is snapped off the -message is gone. - -"A criminal may dip the corner of his jacket in coffee, return to his -cell, wring out the coffee and write with the coffee a secret message to -some one who plots his deliverance. He, too, may be caught by this -ultra-violet lamp. - -"So now," he concluded, "we have only to find the man who wears this -shoe. Very simple in a city of three million." He smiled a slow smile. -"All the same, it's a step." - -"An invisible step," Johnny chuckled. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - HOTCAKES AT DAWN - - -When a person is thrown with a stranger in an empty land he is sure to -learn much of that other's ways. It was so with Red Rodgers. He was -destined to learn much regarding the true nature of that mysterious young -person who called herself Berley Todd. One fact he learned at once: that -she was fond of doing things in a dramatic manner. In her own mind she -was ever on the stage. Red had asked her to tell of her beloved Isle -Royale. She was weary, had been awake all night. She had been cold and -wet. She was hungry. Surely this was no time for telling of a place she -loved. - -"A cabin," she recited, "a fireplace, chairs, blankets. We have all -these. And now for the last of all--things to eat." - -Lighting a candle that stood on a ledge beside the fireplace, she went -into the kitchen of the cabin. Soon she was calling to Red. - -Together they carried in two large tin boxes of what were quite evidently -left-overs of the party camping there that summer. - -"Crackers, dried beans, oatmeal, a little rice." The girl named the -packages as she drew them forth. "Tea, coffee. Hurrah! Some coffee and -prepared pancake flour. Hotcakes at dawn!" She tossed the package to the -ceiling and caught it as it came down. "What could be better than hot -cakes and coffee at dawn?" - -Glancing toward the window, Red discovered that she was right; dawn was -breaking. But to his relief he saw that snow was still falling fast. - -"If those fellows get on our trail," he thought with a shudder, "they'll -keep on it until they get us. They've got to." - -Red brewed the coffee. The girl mixed the batter and fried the cakes. - -The meal was eaten in silence. Red found himself in no mood for talk; nor -did the girl. - -"It--it's like a communion," he told himself with a gulp. He was sobered -by the thought of the future that lay just before them. - -"You know," said the girl, as the last cup was drained, "since this thing -had to happen, I am glad you are you." A curious smile overspread her -face. - -"Thank--er--thanks," Red stammered. "I'll do my best to be myself." - -"And now," said the girl, leading him to a place beside her on a rug near -the hearth, "I'll show you about Isle Royale." - -Dragging a quantity of ashes out on the smooth hearth, she busied herself -for some time smoothing them out, drawing her finger through them here -and dropping a pinch of them there. - -"Now," she sighed at last, "ashes are land, bare spaces are water. See -this little pile here? That's the island we are on. See, it's in a narrow -stretch of water. That's Tobin's Harbor. It's about three miles long. See -this one over to the right? That's Rock Harbor. It's much longer. Off to -the left of Tobin's Harbor is Duncan's Bay. It may not matter. And it -may. You can't tell where we'll end up. - -"See that bit of a pile here? That's Passage Island. There's a lighthouse -out there with people in it, a big light and a foghorn. Listen, you can -hear that horn now." - -Red listened and to his waiting ears came the distant hoot of a giant -foghorn. - -"How simple it all is!" He heaved a sigh of relief. "All we have to do is -to get out to the lighthouse before those fellows catch up to us." - -"Yes," she sighed, "that's all. But it's four miles out there. This is -the stormy season of the year. We have only a rowboat. And remember -this--" Her tone was as solemn as a parson's at a funeral. "Remember -this: 'Superior never gives up her dead!'" - -"Is all that water you've left there Lake Superior?" Red was truly -impressed. - -"Yes, and a great deal more. Miles and miles and miles. Isle Royale is -nearer Canada than the United States. It is not near enough to any place -to do us much good in November. The lighthouse is our hope. But after the -snow it will blow. I am almost sure of that. So, you see, that which was -begun to-night may not be finished at once, my friend the Red Rover. - -"And now--" Her eyes closed for a moment. "Now I would be glad to tell -you of my island home. I love it as I do no other home. If danger did not -threaten, I should dearly love to remain here, even now when everyone is -gone." - -"Everyone?" - -"There may be fishermen staying at the other end of the island. But that -is forty-five miles away. Forty-five miles of wilderness, do you -understand?" - -"I understand," said Red Rodgers. A new note had crept into his voice. He -was beginning to sense the brave part this girl was playing. - -"And now you must rest." - -He set about preparing a place for her on a broad seat before the fire. - -"But you--" she protested. - -"Oh, I'll sleep with one eye open, here in a chair. As long as snow -continues to fall, we are safe." - -"And when the sky clears you will call me?" - -"Never fear." - -"While I sleep I will dream what we are to do next." - -"Success to your dreams." - -Turning his back on her, Red busied himself by drawing a crude map of the -island modeled after her relief map of ashes. - -"Going to be tough," he whispered with a sigh. "Tough for both of us. But -somehow we'll make it. We've got to!" - -After another look at the falling snow, he curled up for three winks. He -slept them through, all unconscious of the commotion his disappearance -had stirred up. The hundreds of columns printed about him in the papers -all over the land, the scores of detectives on the trail of the -kidnapers, the thousands of earnest persons in all walks of life who had -volunteered to do all in their power to help bring him back--all this he -would have found, had he known it, a matter for surprise and great -bewilderment. For the Red Rover was, above all, a very humble and modest -young man who loved doing things for their own sake, and who thought -little of honor or great reward. That the world at large had been so -greatly stirred by his disappearance he did not dream. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - JOHNNY GETS A "JIMMY" - - -That day Johnny Thompson, in quite an accidental manner, came into -possession of certain facts that, while increasing his perplexity at the -time, were destined in the end to go far toward solving a great mystery. - -These facts were discovered as he went about the business of purchasing a -large bouquet of chrysanthemums. No, Johnny had not gone soft. He was not -buying flowers for a cigar clerk nor a telephone operator. Far from that. -There was a school for crippled children just around the corner from his -lodging. He had come to know many of these children. They loved flowers, -as all right-minded children do. He was sending them a bouquet. Drew Lane -and Tom Howe had gone about the business of conducting a raid which, they -assured him, would be quite a tame affair. - -"They'll be expecting us," Drew grinned. "There's never a big bank -robbery pulled but next day all the successful bank robbers are called on -by the police. It's the same with kidnapers." - -"If you know they're bank robbers or kidnapers, why don't you just send -them down to State's Prison and have it over with?" Johnny asked. - -"That would be neat and quite simple." Drew smiled a broad smile. "But -the Constitution grants every man a trial. You've got to prove what down -deep in your heart you know, so you have to go out and get the facts." - -"And we'll get some facts to-day, whether they realize it or not," Tom -Howe put in. "Drew's going to collect a gallon of pocket knives. That's -something." - -"It may be a lot," said Drew soberly. - -So Johnny went to the shop at the foot of the river bridge to buy -flowers. He liked this shop and its dark-skinned proprietor. The man's -name was Angelo Piccalo. - -"Hello, Johnny!" Piccalo welcomed him. "Some flowers to-day?" - -"Yes. Big yellow ones for the kids--crippled kids." - -"Crippled keeds." The flower merchant grinned a broad grin. "The biggest, -the ver' best!" - -The flowers had been boxed and paid for, the proprietor stood in his -doorway bidding Johnny good-bye, when a motor horn sounded close at hand. -Johnny started. He believed it a car. To his surprise, though he looked -up and down the street, there was no car near enough to have produced -that sound. - -"Speed boat." Angelo Piccalo grinned once more. "My boy. Name Angelo. -See! Fine boy, that one. No cripple heem!" - -The boy who grinned up at them from the river was surely no cripple. Some -eighteen years of age, he was the picture of perfect youth. - -"Go to college next year," Piccalo confided. "Beeg gentleman some time, -my boy!" - -Johnny will never know why he went down the iron steps that led to the -landing place where the speed boat rested. There were times when he -almost regretted having done so. - -"Hello, Angelo!" he greeted. "That's a fine boat." - -"Not so bad." The younger Angelo's eyes took him in at a glance. "Not -much speed. Trade it in for a better one soon." - -"This flower business must pay very well," Johnny told himself. "Bet he's -got a car, a fast one. Going to college, too." - -Angelo had bent over to lift up the rear seat of his boat. He was looking -for something. Plainly it was not there. Another object was there that -apparently annoyed him. - -"Who's been making my boat into a junk wagon?" He lifted out a bent iron -bar and was about to drop it in the river, when Johnny stopped him. - -"Hey! Don't do that!" - -"Why not? You want it? All right. Here it is." The boy tossed the bar to -Johnny's feet. It fell with a noisy jangle. - -Thinking he had caught some sound from above, Johnny looked up in time to -surprise a black look on the older Piccalo's usually smiling face. One -moment it was there. The next it was gone. - -"Strange!" Johnny thought. "I must have been mistaken." Yet he knew he -had not been, and found himself disturbed by that insistent question, -"Why?" - -"That's a curious band you have for your wrist watch," he said to the boy -in the speed boat. "All green." - -"Made of green stones," Angelo explained. "Got 'em on Isle Royale last -summer. Fine place, Isle Royale. Plenty big fish, wild moose. Plenty -pretty girls." He grinned broadly. "Found these stones on the beach up -there." - -Johnny picked up the iron bar, climbed the stairs and walked away. This -bar might at one time have been used by a merchant for opening boxes and -at another by some gentleman of evil intentions in opening the window of -some other person's home. It is, I believe, known in some circles as a -"jimmy." - -Feeling a little foolish walking down the street, he wondered why he had -saved the bar at all. - -"Hate to see the work of some man's hands wasted," he told himself. "Many -a poor shopkeeper on Maxwell Street would be glad to own it." - -At that he wrapped it in his morning paper and at last deposited it in -back of a small desk in Drew Lane's room. There it was to remain until -the time appointed. Then it was to offer its bit of evidence regarding -certain dark deeds committed on a night in November of that same year. - - * * * * * * * * - -The snow that had fallen steadily since the hour before dawn upon that -tiny island in Tobin's Harbor of Isle Royale ceased at ten o'clock. - -Standing before the window, Red Rodgers watched a scene of matchless -beauty unfold before him. Dark, unruffled waters widened moment by moment -until at last trees, great dark giant spruce and slender ghosts of -birches, began appearing. - -When at last the snow fog had vanished altogether he saw on the -not-too-distant shore spruce and balsam standing like rows of tall tents -of the Indians. - -And even as he stood there some dark object moved amongst the birch -trees. - -"A moose!" he exclaimed under his breath. Then again he wondered that the -girl had shown no fear at their encounter with an antlered monarch back -there on the trail. - -"Life," he told himself, as he watched the great sleek creature on the -opposite shore step out to stand ankle deep in water, head high, antlers -gleaming, "Life is strange! Here I have lived all my life in a city. -Never would have known of this other world but for the work of these -outlaws who carried me away. And now--" - -He paused. Well, what of now? He could form no answer. - -He turned about to look long and steadily at the sleeping girl. - -Yes, life surely was strange. Nothing like this had come to him before. -As he looked at the perfect repose of that face, something welled up -within him. - -"She trusts me," he whispered. Until this moment he had not known that -such perfect trust existed in the world. "She trusts me. She believes in -me. Her father may be rich. That does not matter. I will neither desert -nor betray her. We shall fight it out together, to the bitter end." - -To this serious-minded boy who until this moment had known little of life -as it is lived save on the gridiron and in the steel mills, this was a -solemn covenant never to be broken. - -"But now," he asked himself, "what is to be done now?" - -This problem he thought through with care. "They're likely to be looking -for us," he told himself. "Yes, their search will be rather a wild one, -when they know." He put a hand to his pocket. Then his face sobered. Had -he made a mistake? - -"If only we can make a clean get-away they are sunk!" he muttered, -clenching his fists. "I am not sorry I took the chance." - -Once again his thoughts returned to the problem at hand. "A step in the -snow will betray us," he told himself. "Now the unmarked snow says we are -not here. Better to wait for darkness." - -Having come to this conclusion, he sank deep in his chair and fell fast -asleep. - -He awoke some hours later to be greeted by the faint aroma of tea brewing -and biscuits baking on the hearth. - -"It's dark now," a voice whispered in his ear. "We must be moving soon. -But first we must eat." - -Red ate that meal in silence. He was thinking hard. "The game for to-day -is over," he told himself. "We have won. No radio must tell me that. They -didn't need me to-day. Probably the Grand Old Man would not have put me -in to-day at all; save me for Saturday's game. He said I was getting slow -on my feet. Well, probably I was. Tired, that's what I was. Football -takes it out of a fellow. - -"Saving me." He grinned in spite of himself. "I was saved all right; put -away for the winter, like as not; pickled like a cucumber in a jar." - -Without really thinking what he was doing, he rose and began pacing the -floor. - -"Worried?" The girl smiled up at him. - -"Yep, quite a little. About Saturday's game." He dropped into a chair. -"You see, our coach, the Grand Old Man, we call him, is getting along in -years. This may be his last season. Who knows? It's almost sure to be his -last winning team. Five of our best men graduate this year. Breaks up the -line. And, well, you know, the coach is such a square shooter, he's so -human and kind, seems to love his boys so, that you just naturally want -to do things for him." - -"Yes, I know," said the girl quietly. "And I know the success of the team -depends on you, Red Rover. Read all about it in the papers. You're going -to play on Saturday. And I'll be cheering on the side lines." - -Red flashed her a grateful smile. "That's right, keep on kidding me. It -all helps." - -"I'm not kidding. We will get away." - -"But tell me more about this island. Well, no, perhaps we had better be -on our way." - -Rising, they went to the window. A large silver moon was tipping every -wave with a point of light. - -"We can't go to the lighthouse to-night." There was a note of finality in -the girl's voice. "The waves out there are as high as a house. - -"And we'd better not venture out just now, either. The moon's too bright. -In an hour or two there may be clouds. See, they are coming in from the -north." - -"And where shall we go when the clouds are here?" - -"Home." The girl whispered the word softly. "To my island home." - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - LIGHT ON THE WATER - - -"My island home," the girl said musingly. "How can I tell you about it so -that you will love it as I do? - -"This is Isle Royale." She spread her arms wide as if to gather its miles -of wide expanse into one embrace. "Beautiful bays and tiny lakes where -the loon and the wild duck come to build their nests. - -"A hundred enchanted islands where gulls soar and scream at sundown, -where the sea hawk soars above you to complain in his shrill voice of -your intrusion. - -"Deep dark pools beside the shelving rocks where black shadows play and -spotted trout dart away. - -"This is Isle Royale." Her eyes were dreamy as she stared at the fire, -that petite, vivacious little lady, Berley Todd. "This is the place where -I have always played my summer away. - -"And to think--" Her tone changed. "To think that those men might have -killed me. Then I would have played no more. - -"To think," she mused, "never again to feel the lift of my boat as I -danced along in Tobin's Harbor or out on the open lake. Never again to -skim along before a gentle gale. Never to climb the low mountains and -look away, away, away to where the blue begins! - -"You know," her tone became confidential, "we were always children on -this island. Sometimes we'd take blankets and a grub box, boys and girls -together, four, six, ten, a dozen of us, and tramp away to the top of -Mount Franklin. There, beside a fire on the rocks, we watched the -twilight fade and counted the stars as they came out one by one. - -"Then, rolling up in our blankets, we slept beneath those stars. Playing -all summer long. Don't you love to play?" - -"I don't know," said Red slowly. - -"But you have played! Football. You play football. That's a game." - -"Is it?" He smiled a curious smile. "Well, perhaps. But it's work, too, -if you win. You have to keep everlastingly at it. And the thing you keep -everlastingly at is pretty sure to seem like work. - -"Play," he mused, "play all summer. Play all winter would be good enough -for me." Football had taken its toll of his young life. He was weary, -desperately weary; not the weariness that comes from a day of sudden, -arduous toil, to be dispelled by a night's repose, but the dull, -dragged-out weariness experienced by an Arctic dog team after a five -hundred mile trek over the frozen snow. - -"Tell me," the girl demanded suddenly, "what do you like?" - -"What do I like?" Red spoke slowly. "I can't tell you that. I can only -tell you what I have liked in the past." - -"Tell me." She laid her hand on his arm. - -"This," he said slowly, as if recalling some scene in the remote past, -"this is what I have liked: to stand before an open hearth in the steel -mill where twenty tons of scrap-iron, together with limestone and -tungsten, boil at white heat; to reach in a long ladle and sample it as -the New England farmer samples his maple syrup; to watch the sample cool, -to crack it with a hammer, to study its gleam; to do this again and again -until at last you make a motion that says, 'The batch is done.' - -"Then to throw a lever and watch that white hot metal, twenty tons of it, -pour into a massive brick-lined pot of steel that hangs suspended from a -crane. - -"Then--" He paused to take a long breath. The girl was staring at him -with all her eyes. "Then to stand beneath that twenty tons of molten -steel and make the gesture that sets flat cars in motion, flat cars -loaded with forms to receive the steel. Then to watch the white hot steel -pour once more; to follow its course until the forms have been lifted off -and the billets of steel stand, red hot, sizzling in the snow, row on -row." - -He looked at her as if uncertain whether or not to go on. - -"Yes--yes. Please?" whispered Berley Todd. - -"To climb a steel stairway--" He took a fresh start. "To seize a lever -that swings a crane. To lift a red hot billet of steel into its place -before heavy steel rollers, then to lift it and toss it, to turn it and -bump it, to roll it here and roll it there, to press it and cut it, then -slide it to one side, a long, perfect steel rail over which rich and -poor, presidents and princes may ride in safety. That," he ended, "has -seemed to me a very large sample of life." - -"Oh!" she breathed. And again, "Oh!" - -She said never a word. For all that, he sensed the fact that she had -grasped the meaning of all this and was glad. - -"You'll go back to that," she said after a time. - -"When studies and football are things of the past. I hope so." - -"But you'll learn to love my island just a little, won't you? And you -will come back here when summer has come and the loons are nesting in -Tobin's Harbor?" There was pleading in her voice. She loved Isle Royale. -How could others fail to love it? - -"I feel," said Red with a curious smile, "I sort of feel that I will -come, too. - -"But look!" He sprang to his feet. "The clouds are here. The moon has -vanished. Time to be going!" - -He did not now say: "Where shall we go?" He knew they were to row up the -bay half a mile, then climb over a ridge to her family's summer home. He -was more than eager to reach that home. Curiosity regarding that home -entered into that desire. But more than that was the feeling that there -she would know of many places of hiding. And hide they must until they -could leave the island. - -"I'll bring the boat around." He vanished into the outer darkness. - -Closing the door softly behind her, Berley Todd stepped out upon the -short platform which served both as doorstep and dock. What emotion -surged through her being as she stood alone there in the dark? Only she -could answer that. - -Soon came the low dip-dip of oars, and they were away. - -"We'd better cross straight over," she said in a low tone. "Then we can -follow the shore. We'll come at last to a small landing. Better try to -keep in the shadows if the moon comes out." - -That this was wise counsel he was soon enough to know. - -Just as they reached the opposite shore the moon, breaking through the -clouds, painted the channel with a million spangles of silver. - -Swinging the boat about quickly, Red drew it into the shadow of an -overhanging cedar. - -Resting there for a moment, they allowed their eyes to wander back. -There, lighted up by the silver moon was the cabin that had offered them -sanctuary for a day. Would they ever forget it? How could they? - -And who would wish to forget so lovely a picture? Great spruce trees -towered toward the sky. Half hidden by the lesser growth of birch and -balsam, the cabins stood. There were three in all, yet in this uncertain -light they seemed but one. - -"It is one of the loveliest spots on earth!" The girl took one long deep -breath that came near being a sob. "It is so beautiful it seems like a -dream. Like a southern home beside a river in a moving picture. - -"A man built it years ago. He built into it all his love for nature and -the great out-of-doors. He had planned it that those he loved might be -happy there. And they have been very, very happy. - -"Wouldn't this world be wonderful if all men were like that? If we lived -for others more than for ourselves? If no one were greedy or ambitious -for power? If we all lived the life God has given us for the pure joy of -living?" Then again she murmured, "It's like some southern home." Her -voice trailed off into silence. - -Then, after a moment, she began again, only this time she was singing, -singing so softly that she would not waken a sleeping bird: - - "Carry me back to old Virginia, - The place where I was born." - -And then, as if the island home were but a beautiful dream, the moonlight -faded, leaving all in darkness. - -Once again Red Rodgers took up the oars and they glided onward over the -dark mysterious waters of the night. - -It was strange, this passing on and on into the unknown. Water and air -seemed to meet. Did they ride in air or on water? What could it matter? - -Only the rough outline of tree tops served to guide him. Off to the right -a tiny island loomed for a time, then faded into the night. - -Before them some wild creature swam. Was it duck or beaver? Who could -say? Nothing appeared to matter. All was swallowed up in the mystery of -the night. - -Then, by a sudden flash of light, all was changed. - -"There!" the girl whispered. "There, to the left, is the dock!" - -A moment more and they glided silently alongside the narrow platform. - -"Tie up here." The girl stepped from the boat. - -Until this time they had not flashed a light. Why did the girl flash -Red's light now? Who can say? She did throw it on for a second. Instantly -a low cry escaped her lips. - -"Look! Footprints!" Dismay was registered in her tone. "They--they have -gone before us!" - -It was true that the narrow circle of light revealed the prints of a very -large boot in the snow. To the right of the dock a boat was tied. - -The girl snapped off the light. For a moment they stood there in silence -side by side, a moment only, then the girl gripped Red's arm until it -hurt. - -"Look! Look! Light on the water! They are behind us and before!" - -Some distance away, on the black surface of the water a pale light shone. - -"Come!" she whispered. "I know a hundred hiding places! We can best -escape them here!" She led him to the foot of the hill, then began to -climb, leaving him to follow in the dark as best he could. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - DREW LANE STEPS INTO SOMETHING - - -That same night Drew Lane "stepped into something," something that was -quite unexpected and--well, you'll see. - -During the day he had conducted his raids on the city's two "kidnaping -centers." They had turned out as he had prophesied they might--quite tame -affairs. Most of the gentlemen, expecting a call, had stepped out. The -raids yielded three guns, sixteen pocket knives and no information of -importance regarding the mysterious disappearance of the Red Rover. -Indeed the protestations of innocence, the ready offer of assistance -which he received on every hand led him to believe that this was a job -pulled off by some one quite outside the well-ordered circle of kidnaping -gentlemen. - -"Honest, Lane, we don't know a thing!" one smooth-spoken gentleman -assured him. "We don't want the Red Rover snatched. Why should we? Our -money is up on him, a lot of it. We want him to come through with a -touchdown, a whole flock of 'em. Tell you what--" His voice dropped to a -whisper. "Your pay isn't too big. Know where you can pick up a piece of -change? I do. You just step out and bring the Red Rover back. The boys -here will make up a purse for you. Just you say: 'The Red Rover plays,' -and you'll hear the clink of gold." - -"Do men gamble on football?" Drew had opened his eyes wide. - -"Do they? Why, say! They--" - -But something--a wink, a thrust in the side, a dark look, -something--silenced the talkative one. He said no more. He had said -enough, however, to put Drew in a thoughtful mood. - -His collecting of pocket knives was received on the whole as a huge joke. -It was suggested that he go out on a sand lot and take up a jack-knife -collection from the boys playing ball. - -Drew felt a bit silly about it himself and, since he had no notion what -purpose it was intended to serve, he was tempted to chuck it. In the end -he carried it through. So sixteen pocket knives all duly labeled reposed -in the drawer of his desk. - -All of which has nothing whatever to do with the thing he "stepped into" -after darkness had fallen. - -He had gone into a place for a belated dinner. This place, he knew, had a -bad reputation. That was why he wished to eat there. A born detective, -Drew was always looking for things, and sometimes he found them. - -Having ordered baked flank steak, French fried potatoes, pie, and black -coffee, he sat back in his chair to stare dreamily about him. He was -truly hungry. "Flank steak all filled with dressing! Um!" he whispered. -Little did he dream that the meal would never be eaten. - -Just before him eight men were grouped around a double table. Their meal -over, they sat drinking amber liquid from tall glasses. - -"Might be soda water," Drew mused. The men were far more interesting than -their drink. They were a strange lot. Three of them, dark complexioned -gentlemen with short black moustaches, looked exactly alike. They were -dressed alike and often all spoke at the same time. They laughed together -in a sort of symphonic chorus. To the right of these was a large man with -a huge red nose who roared when he laughed. A smaller and younger man, -who might well have been his son, sat beside him. Across from these were -two others who did not fall under Drew's gaze. - -The man at the end caught and held Drew's attention. A small man, he said -never a word, but all the time sat poised as if for a spring. - -"Looks like a jack-in-the-box," Drew told himself. - -This little man's eyes were roving from one to another of his companions. -Once, these eyes, swinging in a wide circle, took Drew in. Cold -steel-gray eyes that glittered, they sent a chill coursing down his -spine. He felt in his pocket. Yes, the safety on his automatic was -snapped off. - -It was then that Drew's keen mind registered an important fact. This -little man with the fiery eyes was branded, or so it seemed; there was a -double scar on the right side of his forehead. Together these scars, one -red, the other purple, formed a Maltese Cross. - -"Know him anywhere," Drew told himself. "And yet, those scars might be -faked, little touches of colored wax. It's been done." - -Drew was expecting something to happen. The room was like a country place -before a thunderstorm. One expects the roar of it long before the first -peal comes rolling in. - -When the thing did happen Drew was ready. It was nothing much at that, -you might say. The little man half rose in his chair. As he did so -something heavy slipped from his pocket and fell to the floor with a -crash. It was a blue-barreled automatic. - -Without so much as glancing about, the little man reached down to pick it -up. - -A look of pained surprise overspread his face as he realized the gun was -not on the floor. - -Then, as if a thought had struck him all of a heap, he whirled about to -fix his fiery eyes on Drew Lane and to remark in a tone as smooth and -hard as glass: - -"You got that." - -"Sure did." Sliding back his chair, Drew stood up, thrust both hands deep -in his pockets, then with a trick he had learned by long practice, threw -out the lapel of his coat to display his star pinned underneath. - -He said never another word--just stood there smiling a little. What more -was to be said? The man had carried concealed weapons. This he had no -right to do. As an officer Drew was doing his duty. - -The little man's face went red all over, like an angry sunset. His eyes -swept the circle of his companions and, as if attached to strings held in -his hand, they arose--the three all alike, the big man, his son and the -other two. - -Drew Lane was young. But he was no novice. He knew what it meant. He was -prepared. - -"Gentlemen," he spoke in an even tone, "you can take me. You are eight to -one. But I'll get two of you first." His eyes fell a trifle. - -There was not a man in the group but read his meaning. In his pockets -were two automatics. Time and again he had won the police prize for -straight shooting from the hips. One false move and a member of the -little man's gang would get a bullet in his heart or his brain. Drew was -good for exactly two of them. - -It was a tense moment. Perhaps the glittering eyes of that little man had -never wavered. Perhaps they would not have wavered now. Who could say? No -one. For at that instant the lights went out, and on the instant, save -for the feeble light of one small window, the place was dark. - -A deep silence fell upon the room. Without realizing it, Drew began -counting under his breath: "One, two, three, four, five, six." Perhaps he -was counting the seconds before things began to happen. Keeping a tight -grip with either hand on the things of blue steel in his pockets, he -waited, silent, breathless. - -He had just become conscious of a clock that ticked loudly in a corner, -when a low gasp caught his attention. - -Without knowing why, he fixed his eyes upon the one small window. Other -eyes were fixed upon that narrow window. How many pairs of eyes? Who -could say? It was dark. - -Something was moving by the window. Not a person--no, surely not that! A -skull perhaps, an ugly skull with hollow eye sockets from which a pale -light gleamed. A sigh passed over the room like the low moan of the sea -at night. - -And then something stranger happened. The skull disappeared and a ghost -with bones bleached white and a long, flowing sheet went racing away -across an empty space beside the building. Again the long sigh swept -across the room. - -And then the lights went on. These lights disclosed eight gentlemen -standing just as they had stood before, staring rather stupidly at one -another--the three alike, the big man and his son, the little one with -glittering eyes and the other two. Drew Lane had vanished. - -For a full minute by the clock on the wall they stood there staring at -one another. Then the big man said in a loud voice: - -"The Galloping Ghost!" After which he let forth a roar of laughter that -suggested a crazy baboon roaring in the night. - -Ten minutes later the place was raided by the police. There was no one -there. - -One fact about this affair seems important. Drew Lane retained possession -of the automatic that had fallen on the floor. This automatic was the key -to a situation. What situation? This, for a while, was to remain a -mystery. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - "SHOOTIN' IRONS" - - -As Red Rodgers followed the girl in the dark over the narrow trail that -led away from the dock where they had discovered mysterious footprints in -the snow, he found himself climbing what seemed to him an almost -perpendicular wall. Here he stumbled over a boulder, there slipped on a -stretch of earth that appeared to stand on end, and here found himself -clawing madly in air for some form of hand-hold. That the girl knew the -trail well enough became evident at once. She reached the crest of the -ridge far in advance of him. - -"Here! Give me your hand," she breathed as he came up. "It's not so steep -on this side. Almost not steep at all." - -Red heaved a sigh of relief, then prepared to follow on. - -The trail was much longer on this side. It seemed strange, this prowling -about in the darkness on an island he knew only by name. - -As his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness he made out vague -black bulks to the right and to the left. "Trees," he told himself. - -When one of these black bulks let out a low grunt and vanished into the -night, he stopped short. - -"Moose," the girl said in a low tone. "All over the island. Like the -bears of Yellowstone. That was probably old Uncle Ned." - -"Uncle Ned?" - -"I'll tell you about him some time," she whispered. - -Dense darkness lay before them. The girl plunged into this darkness, the -shadow of a narrow stretch of forest. - -Red's ears caught the low murmur of water; his gaze fell upon the white -gleam of light upon the water. - -"We--we'll go to the left. Lots of places there to hide." Once again the -girl led the way, but not for long. Suddenly she stopped dead in her -tracks to whisper: - -"See! A light!" - -As Red looked he caught a yellow gleam that came filtering through the -branches. - -"Wha--what shall we do now?" For the first time the girl appeared at her -wits' end. - -"That light comes from a cabin." Red tried to think the thing out -straight. "Might be best to try for a look. Then we'll know what we're up -against, at least." - -Except to give him her hand the girl made no reply. - -Slowly now, with pulses pounding, they made their way forward. - -To the left of the trail they saw a white bulk, a cabin. They passed -another. Then suddenly he dragged the girl from the trail. An unexpected -sound had reached his ears, a dog's bark. - -"A dog!" Berley Todd shuddered. "Why would they bring a dog in the -plane?" - -"To track us. No wonder they were so sure we wouldn't get away!" - -"But listen! That dog's inside. Let's go back while there's a chance." - -"It can't be ten steps farther. I'm for a look. You--you stay here." - -"Not alone." She gripped his arm hard. "I--I'll go." It was she who led -now. - -A dozen paces more and they stood within sight of the window through -which the light shone. And then a tall man, who was just in the act of -removing a ten gallon hat, moved in front of the light. - -"Oh! It's Ed!" - -There was a melodious ring in the girl's voice that told plainer than -words that they had found a friend. - -"Ed who? Who's Ed?" Red was puzzled by this fresh turn of affairs. - -"Just Ed. A scout. He has a camp on the island in summer. Always before -he left with the rest. But now he's here, and I'm glad!" There was a ring -of pure joy in her voice. "Now--now we are three, three of us and a dog. -Come on!" She dragged him forward. "Come on before he turns that dog -loose!" - -As Berley flashed the light for an instant the boy read, above the door: - - TRAILSIDE. - -He wondered what that stood for. There was no time now for talk. Berley's -hard little knuckles had made contact with the door. - -The next instant they stood blinking in the light that came from the -cabin. Before them, holding his dog by the collar, was a tall, well-built -man whose graying hair said he might be forty. His face, though seamed -and tanned from constant exposure, bore the touch of eternal youth, a -heritage of those who spend their lives in wild and silent places. - -For a space of seconds he stared at them. Then his face lighted with a -smile as he exclaimed: - -"Why! It's the little half-portion, Berley Todd! Put her there!" He -extended a brawny brown hand. - -Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he drew back and stared. - -"But--but what are you doing here at this time?" - -"Came by plane," Berley explained with a laugh. "Didn't you hear us -arrive?" - -"N-no." The look on the guide's face was strange to see. - -"You wouldn't of course. We came in the night. - -"And this--" She pushed her companion forward. "This is the Red Rover. -You've heard of him, haven't you? The famous football star, the Red -Rover?" - -"Y-e-s?" The guide continued to stare. It was plain that he believed -little of that which he had just heard. And who could blame him? What -chance was there that the most famous football star of the season should -go off into a wilderness in an airplane a few days before the big game of -the year? - -"It's cold. We--we'd like to come in," the girl pleaded. - -The scout stared for ten seconds, then exclaimed: - -"Beg pardon! Been a long time since any one was here. Didn't expect to -see a soul until spring. Come in. Got a big kettle of Mulligan stew on -the stove. Big feed, what?" - -"Can't be too big for us!" said Berley, closing the door and, to the -scout's bewilderment, turning the key in the lock, as she said quite -calmly: "I'd like to pull the shades if you don't mind." - -"Why, yes. Just pull 'em right down." The scout stared afresh. - -"You see," explained "the little half-portion," dropping into a chair, -"Red, here, and I ran away. We--we don't want any one to know we are -here. Not a soul--except, of course, you." - -"Thanks for the compliment, Miss. But I assure you there'll not be a soul -here until spring. Do you plan to stay that long?" - -The muscles of Berley's mouth were twitching desperately. It was great -fun, this posing as the stolen bride of a famous football star, but -bottling up her mirth was quite another matter. - -"Why--why, we--" She tried hard to steady her voice. "We--we haven't made -any definite plans, have we?" She turned to Red. Then, as if a second -thought had taken possession of her, she demanded: - -"Red, what did you do to that plane when you left me out on the raft at -the back of Tobin's Harbor?" - -"I took the breaker assemblies out of their magnetos." - -"Whatever that means." She wrinkled her brow in a peculiar way. - -"It means," Red measured his words, "that they will have to send to the -factory for parts before they can fly; in other words, that they can't -leave the island." - -"That makes it bad." Berley seemed worried. - -"For them." - -"For us. They'll be after us night and day to get those parts back. -They'll not leave a stone unturned. If we leave the island before they -do, they are trapped here. Even if they reached the lighthouse no one -would aid them." - -"And the officers will come here after them." Red went on where she left -off. "My old friend, Drew Lane, will be here in his red racer. Grand -coup, I call it! A bit hazardous, but what is life but a series of -exciting adventures? If you can make those adventures count for good, why -that's fine and dandy, I'd say." - -"It is." Beaming, Berley put out her hand. - -Then, turning to the puzzled scout, she exclaimed: "Ed, you've got us all -wrong. We haven't eloped. We've been kidnaped, one at a time, and have -escaped together. Now Red has got to get back to the gridiron for -Saturday's game and I to the bleachers. You are elected to help us. You -may get shot and all that, but you've got to come along. You've been -drafted." - -Understanding very little of all this, but game to the last, the scout -threw open a cupboard to drag down two huge pistols. - -"Then," he said solemnly, "it's shootin' irons. Inherited them from my -dad. Never had much use for 'em except to take a crack at a prowlin' -coyote now and then, but I reckon I can hit a tin can at fifty yards -mighty nigh every pop. And that's good enough for coarse work. I'm with -you, little half-portion, with you to the end." Then, as if she were a -child, he seized her about the waist and bumped her head against the -ceiling. - -"Mulligan's done," he announced a moment later. "What am I really drafted -into? You'll tell me that, won't you, over the Mulligan stew and coffee?" - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - THE BRANDED BULLET - - -To inform you that Drew Lane made his escape from a perilous position -while the Galloping Ghost was doing his bit would be to waste words. -There are times, of course, when it is an officer's duty to stand his -ground and shoot it out with the outlaws who chance to cross his path. -This was not one of those times. Drew Lane went for reinforcements. That -he did not return in time was an unavoidable misfortune. He was obliged -to content himself with turning in a detailed report of the affair -together with an accurate description of the individuals who composed the -band. - -"I'd know that little fellow with the fiery eyes anywhere," he said to -Tom Howe, as he sat at his desk. "His scar marks him if nothing else -does. - -"But those three fellows that look just alike. Suppose they scatter. -How's a fellow to tell which is which? Clever, I call it. Suppose one is -suspected of a stick-up. Suppose he's put in the 'show up' on Sunday -morning. Then suppose the victim says: 'That's the man.' But suppose the -other two are in the line and the victim says again and yet again: -'That's the man.' And each time he's seeing a different one. Which of the -three will be tried and convicted?" - -"There'd be a mix-up," Tom grinned. - -"Sure would. - -"But look, Tom." Drew placed a thing of blue steel on the table. "Here's -the automatic that the little fellow with fiery eyes dropped. He's the -sort that shoots on sight. He may have done some shooting right here in -town. It might just happen that you've got a bullet in your collection -that came from his gun." - -"Might at that." Tom took the gun. "Quite a collection of bullets I've -got right now. There's the one that stopped Patrolman O'Malley down by -the Stock Yards. There's the one that passed through the Chink's heart -and landed in a wall down in Chinatown. Six or seven more. I'll try it -out. Want to come along, Johnny?" - -Johnny Thompson dropped the book he was reading. "I'll be glad to!" -Anything that had to do with scientific crime detection might claim this -boy's attention, be it day or night. - -Tom Howe and Johnny dropped down to the basement where a bullet might be -fired into a barrel of sawdust without disturbing the guests of the -hotel. Drew finished his report, dispatched it by a messenger and then, -having extinguished his lamp of gleaming white light, switched on one of -faint blue that gave the whole place an air of spooky mystery. It was -thus that he could best think out the problems which lay directly before -him. - -"A whole day gone," he told himself. "And what have we? A bed sheet taken -from a sleeping car. An invisible footprint on that sheet. But whose -footprint? Shall we ever know? A bullet." - -He spread out a sheet of paper to examine it afresh. "A second message -from the dead," he murmured. "At least from the Galloping Ghost. Pretty -hard-fisted ghost at that. Knocks Tom down; then when he is gone, digs a -bullet from some post or railway tie, and presents it for our inspection. -He says here that the bullet is the one fired at Tom out there by the Red -Rover's sleeping car. 'Find that man.' And then--sure, find him if you -can! - -"But this jack-knife business," he mused on. "The Ghost says one of the -kidnapers has the whittling habit, that while waiting for Red to fall -asleep he sat on a pile of ties and whittled at a soft stick. A knife -blade, he says, when examined under a microscope shows some -irregularities on its edge, even the sharpest of 'em. I suppose that's -right. But what of it?" - -He sat for some time in a brown study from which he emerged with a start -and a low exclamation: - -"Something to it! What? Might be a lot! I'll have to get Tom digging into -that. He and his microscope have solved many a baffling crime." - -Once again he settled back into meditation. "Speed boat tied up far down -the river. Airplane hangar nearby. Police have searched all buildings -near there. No result. Looks like an airplane job. Spirited away in an -airplane. What could be simpler? Wonder if the night mechanic at the -airport knows anything? If he does, like as not he wouldn't tell. - -"One thing sure!" He brought his chair down with a bang. "We've got to -get action, and get it quick!" - -Seizing the evening paper he scanned its front page. GHOST GALLOPS AGAIN -was sprawled across the front page. And below, RED ROVER STILL MISSING. -POLICE HAVE NOTHING TO REPORT. - -"Well--" Drew smiled grimly. "Hold your horses. We may report something -yet." - -Again he read, in smaller type: "The public is aroused by this daring -crime. A large purse is being raised as a reward for the return of the -Red Rover. The Midway coach is game. He is drilling his team hard in the -face of almost certain defeat." - -"Too bad!" Drew shook his head. "Probably his last great game. They say -he is to retire at the close of this season. Everything was set for a -glorious victory. And now this! The plans wrecked by a gang of outlaws -who deserve nothing but to die horribly. And here we are doing our best, -working night and day, following blind trails, getting nowhere. We--" - -He broke short off as a fist banged the door and a voice demanded: - -"Open up! Let me in!" - -It was Johnny. As a bringer of good news he had outstripped Tom Howe. - -"Drew! Drew!" he panted. "That's the gun!" - -"What gun is which gun?" Drew grinned in spite of himself. - -"That bullet fits that gun." - -"Which bullet fits what gun? Sit down and tell me about it." He pushed -him into a chair. - -After a breathing spell Johnny was able to tell a connected story. He and -Tom Howe had gone to the basement and had fired three bullets from the -gun Drew had picked up on the floor of the place where, for a very good -reason, he had eaten no supper. Having fired the bullets into sawdust, -they had picked them out and had examined them under the microscope. - -"You know how it is," he went on. "Every gun barrel has microscopic -defects on the inside. These leave their marks on the bullet. The bullet -left by the Galloping Ghost apparently struck the steel car a glancing -blow and then entered a block of wood. One side was flat, but the other -showed its marking clearly. And the scratches on that bullet, four of -them, clearly marked, exactly matched the ones fired from the gun you -took from that little fellow with a branded forehead and fiery eye." - -"They did!" Drew dropped in a heap on a chair. "So that was the man! And -I had him, had him in my hands! And I let him go! What a break!" - -Johnny, as he recalled the circumstances, was not sure whether Drew had -had the little man or the little man and his gang had had Drew; but he -said nothing. - -"We'll get 'em. We'll get 'em yet!" Drew came to his feet with a bound. -"Get the Chief on the wire. He'll send out a drag-net. A mob like that -can't cruise about this city without being caught. They're marked men, -every one of them!" - -Was he right? Only time would tell. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - JOHNNY'S JIMMY - - -In the meantime Red Rodgers, the object of all this activity in a great -city, sat at a small table in a cozy cabin on Isle Royale, hundreds of -miles away, calmly sipping the broth from a delicious Mulligan stew -(which, by the way, is made by cooking up everything you have in the way -of meat and vegetables, then adding much sliced bacon and many onions). - -The stew was good. The cabin was warm. The hour was late. When Red had -emptied his bowl he sat back to nod drowsily. - -"It's good to be lazy and comfortable and to do nothing," he murmured. It -seemed to him now that he had somehow been drugged. Never before had he -felt so little desire for action. "I wish those crooks would leave us -alone," he thought to himself. "I wish I could sleep for a week." - -But what was this? A voice sounded in the room, a strange voice. And what -was this man saying? - -"The listening world will be interested to know that while the football -star, officially known as the Red Rover--" - -"Red--Red Rover." The boy sat up, quite awake now. "Why, that is the -radio! They're talking about me. And here I am listening in." - -"Yes," the scout chuckled, "that's Chicago. Haven't listened to that -station before, or I'd have known. Bet they're broadcasting reports every -hour." - -"About me?" - -"Why not? You're a star." - -"A star to-day; to-morrow a steel mill worker. What does one star more or -less matter?" - -For all that, he sat up and listened with increasing interest as the -speaker told of all that was being done to apprehend the kidnapers and -return the Rover to his team. - -"Good old Drew Lane," he murmured. "He'll get 'em. You'll see." - -But after all--. His spirits drooped. After all, what could it matter? He -might discover who the kidnapers were. But would he trace them to Isle -Royale? Ah, no. That was expecting too much! - -He felt a tightening at his throat as he thought of his team mates and -the coach, the Grand Old Man, doing their best to stave off defeat. "It's -not that I'm so important as an individual," he told himself humbly, "but -I'm part of the piece, like one stone in an arch. Without me the team -must fail. - -"Why am I here?" he cried out suddenly, springing to his feet. "How can I -get away?" - -"Perhaps you can't," the guide said quietly. "We'll do the best we can. - -"Listen!" The guide blew out the lamp, then quietly opened the door. -Bing, the dog, uttered a low growl. He was silenced by his master. - -From somewhere away off in the dark came a weird, wild call. It was -answered here and answered there. Then such a chorus as never before was -heard on sea or land rose above the sound of rushing water and sighing -pines. - -"Wolves," Ed commented briefly. "Bush wolves. Hundreds of 'em on the -island. They're all singing to-night. There will be a storm. Listen -again. - -"There is a little sea to-night. To-morrow it will be raging. The -distance from Rock of Ages on this island to the mainland is seventeen -miles. Rock of Ages is forty miles from here. There are power boats here, -but no gasoline. You'd have to row. You'd never make it." - -"Our only chance is Passage Island," Berley Todd put in. - -"Absolutely! But that is four miles from Blake's Point. Four miles of -raging black waters. And Lake Superior never gives up her dead. No. No, -son. You'll be staying here a spell yet. And why not? Really you should -see a little of Rock Harbor while you're here. That's what they say in -summer." He laughed. "Why not now?" - -Red was to see something of Rock Harbor indeed. Pictures of this unusual -little corner of the world were to hang for many a day on the walls of -his memory. Some of these he would cherish, and some he would be glad to -forget. - - * * * * * * * * - -Next morning, in the distant city, there was a council of war. Drew Lane, -Tom Howe and Johnny Thompson sat around Drew's desk. Coffee had been sent -up in a tin pail. They were imbibing freely as they talked. - -"The police drag-net caught never a thing," Drew announced. "They've -vanished, all that gang belonging to the fiery-eyed fellow, the big man -and his son, the three just alike, and the two others. And that," he -sighed, "leaves us just where we were. We have the gun that was fired at -you, Tom, but we haven't the man. The Red Rover is still a captive. And -why? Will you answer me that? Have the authorities over at Old Midway -received demands for ransom money?" - -"Not a scratch." Tom's brow wrinkled. "Had them on the wire half an hour -ago. There's another case up just now, too; just as strange in a way. -Little lady named Berley Todd; old man Todd's daughter, steel magnate, or -something of the sort. Not a word from her either, though that's not our -problem. We're out to find the Red Rover." - -"Yes, and that promises to be enough to keep us awake nights. - -"Tom," Drew's tone changed, "did you ever hear of a pocket knife -convicting a man?" - -"Stabbing case?" - -"No, whittling, just plain whittling." - -"Why, yes. Let me see. There was one. A fellow shot a former partner of -his. Trapper he was, I think. He built a blind of green willow branches. -Cut the branches with his pocket knife. Shot the fellow behind this -blind. The sheriff found the blind. Then he found the knife in the -fellow's cabin. He sent the knife and willow stubs to the Crime -Laboratory. They studied the knife blade and the cuttings. That was the -knife all right; irregularities in the cuttings were the same as on the -knife blade. The trouble was, they couldn't prove that the knife had not -been planted in the fellow's cabin, so the thing fell through." - -"Sounds interesting." Drew drained his cup. "Wish you'd take a look at -these through your microscope." He pushed a handful of shavings toward -his partner. "The Galloping Ghost left them, you remember. - -"And here is the collection of pocket knives. You'll be able to tell -whether one of these did the whittling. - -"You see," he explained, "some fellow connected with the kidnaping sat -and whittled while he waited for the Red Rover to fall asleep. - -"Strange how often men's habits convict them," he philosophized. "If -you're a whittler you'll have your knife out on every occasion, -whittling, just whittling. - -"This man," he took up a shaving, "must be a nervous sort. See how short -these are. If he were a meditative person, quite at ease, he would take -long, smooth strokes." - -"I'll look these over." Tom swept the shavings into an envelope. "There -might be something in it. Can't afford to neglect the least clue. If it -interests the old G.G. it should have our attention. By the way, what's -your idea about this Galloping Ghost? Who is he? And what's he after?" - -"You answer." Drew grinned. "All I know is that he seems to be on our -side. That's enough for the present. I-- - -"Be careful!" He turned suddenly to Johnny. "Don't bend that. It might be -important." - -"What is it?" The boy held up a thin bit of sheet aluminum that had been -pressed into a curious form. - -"That," Tom explained, "is an impression taken from the bottom of a -sleeping car window. When the Red Rover was kidnaped the window was -jimmied. The end of the bar made a deep impression in the wood. It was an -old bar with several nicks in it. If I ever come upon it I could identify -it by this impression." - -"This," said Johnny, "is getting too deep for me. Invisible footprints on -sheets. Shavings from some whittler's knife. Impressions in wood. These -are to bring a man to justice. Pipe dreaming, I call it. - -"By the way!" he exclaimed. "I have a jimmy bar all my own. Saved it from -a watery grave." - -Stepping to the corner he produced a paper-wrapped package and then -revealed the bar he had taken from the speed boat of Angelo Piccalo, -Junior. - -"Let's have a look!" Tom Howe's eyes fairly bulged. - -"Say, boy!" he cried ten seconds later. "That's the bar! Where'd you get -it?" - -"Why, what do you mean? The bar?" - -"I mean it's the bar that pried that car window open. See! The impression -fits exactly. I say! Where'd you get it?" - -"Nothing to get excited about," Johnny grumbled. "Some one stuck it in -the back of Angelo's speed boat. Young Angelo, you know, son of the -flower shop man." - -"Back of the boy's speed boat. Humph!" Slouching down in his chair, Tom -fell into a brown study. - -"I'll dig into this whittling business," he said, at last rousing -himself. "There might be something in it. You never can tell." - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - DREAMING AT DAWN - - -After ten winks caught in the scout's cozy cabin, Red Rodgers and Berley -Todd were up before dawn. - -"I don't think much of the bush wolves as weather prophets," Red said in -a hoarse whisper. He was ever conscious that their lives were in danger. -"What a morning! We must get a rowboat and be away for Passage Island." - -"In the light of day?" The girl pressed his arm hard. "They'd see us. -Then all would be at an end. But no, perhaps not. There are islands, -small islands all in a row that lie half a mile off this main shore. Once -behind those, we would be hidden." - -"Let's have a look. Which way is the shore?" - -"Over this way." The girl led him down a path that, circling a clump of -bushes, led them past a group of buildings that loomed large in the -blue-gray dawn. - -They passed through tall grass drenched with dew, to climb at last a pile -of rocks and finally reach a great boulder that overlooked the water. - -In this moment of hushed silence just before dawn, the water was like -glass, smooth white glass. - -"What could be sweeter? We must find a boat at once." Red turned his eyes -upon the girl. - -He realized at once that she had not heard him. She was listening instead -for some sound that must come from far away. - -Without willing it, he also listened; heard it, too, a long, deep, -long-drawn sigh. No human sigh was this, but the sigh of great waters. He -heard it again and yet again. - -"It is as if Father Superior were waking from his sleep," the girl -whispered. "It tells of a coming storm. We must not go. We must wait." - -They had not long to wait. As the water took on the faint pink of dawn a -mist appeared to rise from afar and to steal upon them. - -One by one the distant points of land became misty suggestions, mere -ghosts of earth. Like ten thousand great white fish leaping in the sea, -two miles away white-caps appeared, while in the foreground with the -gray-black sky as a reflecting mirror, the water took on a startling -clearness. - -Gulls ceased to soar and scream. Settling upon a rocky ledge, they stood -erect, silent, like uniformed officers observing the outcome of a battle. -From time to time a member of the party, some aid-de-camp, came soaring -in to report the results of his observation. - -And all the time ten thousand spots of gleaming white advanced. Now they -were two miles away, a mile and a half, a mile, half a mile. Like some -dirigible swept from its mooring, a fragment of cloud detached itself -from the vast mass and came sweeping over. It left in its wake a -disturbing chill. - -And now the spots of white lay before them, at their very feet. A burst -of wind swept the hair back from the girl's temples. The wind increased -in volume. Waves began beating at the rocks. A few large rain drops -spattered. - -And then, with a suddenness that was startling, the storm broke. Rain -came down in torrents. Wind twisted at the birches, and set all the -spruces whispering and sighing. The ever-increasing roar of water on the -rocks vied with the din of crashing thunder. The sky, laced and -interlaced by lightning, revealed itself as some vast shroud. There are -no storms like the storms of November. - -But even the fury of nature is futile. Men do not agree upon man's -destiny. No more does nature agree upon its own. Rain beating upon the -water subdued it. White water vanished. The beating of waves subsided. -Having outdone itself, in its mad fury, the wind swept the clouds to -other lands and other waters. A brief half hour and a scene of surpassing -beauty, a tiny world studded with diamonds lay before the waiting pair. - -"It is over," Red whispered from the depths of a great spruce where they -had found shelter. - -"For now," came the girl's experienced reply. "For all that, we do not -stir from this spot. Superior has moods all its own. And remember, -Superior never gives up its dead." - -Leading the way out from their sheltered nook, she perched herself upon a -high rock. Red took a place beside her. When she spoke again a dreamy -look had overspread her countenance. - -"This," she said, spreading her arms wide, "this is Isle Royale. Forget -the drifting leaves, the gray tossing branches. It is summer now. Night -has come and a great golden moon paints a patch of silver down the bay. -The rippling water seems alive. Every tiny wave bears a tinier craft upon -its bosom--the silver schooner of a fairy. - -"Listen! From far down the bay comes, wafted on by the breeze, the -faintest suggestion of a song. What is it, the whisper of a bird talking -to his mate? - -"No. There comes the put-put of a motor, yet even this seems to keep time -to the music that, gathering power and sweetness, floats on and on down -the bay. A craft appears. All white in the moonlight, it seems as unreal -as a fairy's dream. - -"Strange men who drift about our island in tiny gas boats. Like gypsies -they are. They are here. Who are they? You do not care to know. Where did -they come from? The mines, the forests, the pulp mills perhaps. This does -not matter. They are here. They have a tune for you. They belong to the -night. - -"So, with the moon hanging high, they drift down that silver patch of -moonlight to vanish into the night. And still, long after they are lost -from sight, comes wafted in by the wind and waves faint, sweet music that -one cannot forget. This," she sighed, "is Isle Royale in summer. And you -have not seen it, and have never heard it." - -"But all this--" Red smiled down at her. "All this is play. And I never -play." - -"But you will! You must!" she exclaimed in a breath. "You will play with -me here. See! A storm is rising, a three days' storm. - -"See! It is light. We are in danger! We must hurry back to our refuge." -Like a gleam of white light she was away. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - NIGHT ON ISLE ROYALE - - -Once again it was night on Isle Royale. All day a wild south-easter had -lashed the waters of Lake Superior into foam. All day in the scout's -cabin Red Rodgers and Berley Todd had waited for that which they felt to -be inevitable--the arrival of the kidnapers and the battle that must -follow. Or would there be a battle? The snow had melted. No footprints -remained. Perhaps Ed could make the outlaws believe they were not there. - -For a time after a breakfast of sour dough flapjacks they sat discussing -possibilities. After that, overcome by their long vigil, they slept. - -Now that night had come, they were as wide awake as night owls. - -"It's tough to be waiting without knowing what they are about," Red -exploded at last. "I'd almost rather meet them face to face and fight it -out." - -"Oh, no! Not that!" The girl shuddered. "But we might have a look at them -from the Palisades. Surely we'd not meet them on that trail. And, if we -should, we could lose ourselves on the instant." - -"Safe enough," Ed commented. - -"What are the Palisades?" Red rose as if prepared to go. - -"The highest point on this ridge," the guide explained. "Trees are cut -away there. You can look down a hundred feet to Tobin's Harbor. Their -camp's back there. If there's a light showing they will still be in camp. -If one moves on the water, you'll know they are out looking around. - -"No need for me to go," he added, nodding at Berley Todd. "She knows -every step of the way." - -"In the dark?" - -"In the dark. But there's a little light. Better take your flashlight. -Don't use it unless you have to." - -A short time later two dusky figures stole out into the night, a tall one -and a short one. - -In silence they passed through a narrow fringe of spruce, birch and -balsam with here and there a cottage looming black and silent in the -dark. - -Once the girl seized Red's arm to point through a clump of shapely spruce -trees. "That," she whispered impressively, "is my home--my summer home." - -"If the storm keeps up, shall we go there, perhaps to-morrow night, you -and I and Ed?" - -"Perhaps." - -They mounted a low hill, then followed along a tree-grown ridge. He -marveled at her ability to find her way in the dark. "Great little sport, -this one," he told himself. "Not soft like so many girls." This was true. -The hand that gripped his arm was as hard and muscular as a boy's. So was -her arm. - -In his mind's eye he saw Lake Superior flecked with foam, four miles of -it. "It's going to be tough, at best." - -"Here!" the girl whispered in his ear. "It's just up there. The trail's -almost straight up. Follow me. Be sure of your footing." - -Her dark form loomed above him, but from her lips came no panting breath. -"Fit," he told himself. "As fit as a marathon runner." A moment of wild -scrambling and he stood beside her. At that instant the clouds parted -and, for a space of seconds, the harbor lay beneath them in all the dark, -majestic beauty of a moonlight night. Almost directly beneath them, a -golden ball, lay the reflection of the moon. Off to the left a dark bulk -loomed. - -"Island." Berley caught her breath as she whispered: "Kidnaper's island." - -Then a black cloud obscured the light and the harbor. The distant shore -lay beneath them, a vast well of darkness. - -Darkness? Not quite all. From the far end of that long, narrow island on -which their log prison stood, a pale yellow light shone. - -"They are there," the girl whispered. - -"At least some of them," Red amended. - -"We can go down this way." Once again the girl led. - -In time they came to a spot Red recognized, the short dock at which they -had disembarked on the previous night. The rowboat they had taken from -the island still bumped at the dock. - -To Red, reared as he had been close to the slips where rusty ore boats -lay at anchor, a boat, any sort of boat, had an all but irresistible -appeal. - -Apparently some such spell hung over the girl, for when he gave her his -hand to help her into the boat she did not say, "No, no! We dare not." -Instead, she whispered: "We will glide along in the shadows." - -The oars made no sound. Sky and water seemed one. To the girl, as she sat -in the stern, they appeared to float in air. - -And then, all in a flash, this stillness was shattered. The prow of their -boat struck some solid object with a dull thud. That same instant it -reared high in air to pitch the dreaming girl into cold, black waters of -night. - -Paralyzed by the suddenness of it all, the boy, riding high in air but -still clinging to his seat, saw her go. - -For a space of seconds he hung there in midair. Then with a dull splash -the boat fell once more to the water. At that same instant he saw that -which caused him to rub his eyes and stare. At a speed quite impossible -for a swimmer of the girl's skill or strength she was streaking away -across the water toward an island that loomed out of the dark. - -"A trap," he thought. "They--they got her!" - -Seizing the oars, he swung the boat about and began rowing madly. - - * * * * * * * * - -It was during this same hour that Johnny Thompson happened upon something -that mystified him more than he was willing to admit. This affair might -have ended badly but for the boy's splendid physique and careful -training. - -He was about to pass over the river bridge on his way home when his eye -was caught by a brilliant display of flowers in Angelo Piccalo's window. -Coming to a halt, he stood there studying the flowers for some little -time. "Some flowers I never saw," he told himself. "Have to ask Angelo -about them. Those red, heart-shaped ones and--" - -His thoughts broke off. Two men, having crossed the bridge, hesitated a -moment, then went down the stairway leading to the breakwater landing. - -"That's queer," he told himself, "at this hour of the night!" - -As he lingered his wonder grew, for two more men appeared from the dark -bridge and descended into the depths below, and after these came three -others. - -"I'll have a look," he told himself. - -As he shifted his position a door at the foot of the stairs opened and a -man disappeared. "Odd sort of business. A door opens. No light comes out. -Yet the man goes in. Something wrong about that. That's beneath Angelo's -flower shop. He's my friend. I'll have a glimpse inside." - -His glance inside netted nothing but darkness. Putting out a hand, he -pressed against a surface that yielded--a silent, swinging door. - -At once he was in a large, smoke-filled room. A curious place it was, -fitted with tables and a counter; yet there was apparently nothing to -sell. - -A strange feeling of discontent appeared to hover over the room. Johnny -felt a desire to vanish. He resisted this to stare at the men who sat -about in groups grumbling in monotones and at two who complained loudly -in a strange language to a large, poker-faced man leaning over the -counter. - -All this will remain in the boy's mind as a scene from some mystery -drama, for a rough voice at his ear said: - -"How'd you get here?" - -Startled, he looked at the speaker. He was almost twice Johnny's size. -And he had help. A companion stood at his side. Together they glared at -the boy. - -"I walked in," he said in deliberate tones. - -"Well, walk out again." - -"Who says so? This is Angelo's place." - -"It may be, and it may not. Out you go!" - -Seizing the boy by the shoulder, they pushed him through the folding -doors and, following, gave him a sudden shove and a vicious kick that -landed him outside. - -It was a brutal and cowardly act. Unfortunately for the perpetrator, he -followed halfway through the door. Like a flash of light, Johnny was on -his feet. The next instant his left arm was about the big man's neck with -a vise-like grip that both choked and silenced him in one act. Next -Johnny's good right played a tattoo on the other's face. He went down -like a log. With a deft twist, Johnny pitched him into the river. - -Just in time he caught the shadow of the second man as he leaped toward -him. Dropping like a deadfall, he stopped the headlong plunge of the man -and sent him to join his pal in the river where they did a spluttering -act. - -"Coarse lot!" Johnny grumbled. "On second thought, I'll not stay." - -Climbing the stairs, he vanished into the night. - -This affair was to linger in his memory. What place was this? What were -those men doing there? Some were grumbling, some smiling. Why? Was this -Angelo's place? It couldn't be. But it was beneath his flower store. -Would he rent the space to such men if he knew their nature? - -"Naturally he wouldn't," Johnny assured himself. "I'll speak to him about -it next time I see him." - -This resolve was never carried out. Before he chanced upon Angelo's -flower shop again, strange discoveries were made. These discoveries were -to change his entire course of action. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - RIDING A MOOSE - - -As Red Rodgers raced after the floating figure of the girl he gained -little by little. Boat length by boat length he decreased the distance. -Now she was twenty yards away, now ten, now five, as he pulled madly at -the oars. - -And then, as he glanced over his shoulder a cry of surprise and dismay -escaped his lips. With a snort and a mad splashing of water a dark bulk -sprang from the water, rattled over the pebbly shore, and then -disappeared into the dense forest that covered the narrow island. - -For one full minute he looked in vain for Berley Todd. Then, catching the -sound of what seemed a low laugh, he whirled about to find her two white -hands clinging to the prow. - -"Please give me a hand!" she pleaded. "I'm soaked. And boo! It's so cold! - -"I always wanted to do it," she chuckled as she tumbled into the boat. - -"Do what?" Red was dumbfounded. - -"Ride a moose." - -"Ride--a--moose?" - -"Sure! Didn't you know it was done? Easy enough. All you have to do is to -find one swimming and run him down with a canoe or an outboard motor, and -then hop overboard and seize him by the antlers. As long as he is in the -water he can't harm you. But on shore, just look out! - -"That," she added quietly, as Red once more swung the boat about and -rowed for shore, "was Old Uncle Ned." - -"Old Uncle Ned? Oh, yes, you spoke of him once before." - -"He's huge, and is quite a character on the island. Comes coughing around -timid ladies' windows at night." She laughed quietly. - -"When you ran into him he must have been feeding on grass off the bottom. -He came up quick and pitched me out. Somehow I was thrown on top of him, -and I got hold of his antlers. The rest was too good to lose, so I just -hung right on and took a ride. - -"I hope," she ended quite meekly, "that you don't mind." - -"N-no." Red was rowing hard. "But you'll be frozen before we reach the -cabin." - -"Oh-o nn-o." The girl strove in vain to prevent her teeth from -chattering. "I-I'm all--all right." - -The instant they touched the dock she was out of the boat and on the dock -doing a wild dance. She stopped suddenly right in the midst of this to -stare away at the black water. - -"Wha-what's moving over there?" She sank away into the shadows. - -For a time Red could discover nothing. Then it seemed to him that he did -make out something moving close to the surface of the water. - -"It may be a boat. Perhaps we had better--" - -"See!" She whispered excitedly. "It _is_ a boat!" - -Suddenly a bright light shone across the water. A figure crouching behind -the light was faintly seen. He was in the prow of a boat. - -But now the thing within that circle of light caught and held their -attention. A moose, splendid in his glory of shapely body and -wide-spreading antlers, stood at the point of the island. Apparently -blinded by the light, he stood there like a statue. - -"How perfect!" Red breathed. - -"Monarch of the forest!" the girl whispered low. - -And then stark tragedy came crashing across the waters. A high-power -rifle roared. The moose leaped high and then fell with a splash into the -black water. The light blinked out, and again all was night. - -As if to escape the sight, Berley Todd turned and glided silently up the -hill. She was closely followed by the Red Rover. - - * * * * * * * * - -While the Red Rover and Berley Todd were meeting with strange adventures -on the "Mystic Isle," Drew Lane and his companions were striving in vain -to unravel the tangled skein of mystery that surrounded their -disappearance. - -"Everything's gone haywire!" Drew exclaimed disconsolately, thrusting out -his feet before him and staring moodily at his littered desk. - -"Not so bad as that, I'm sure," Johnny Thompson put in hopefully. - -"Just exactly as bad, and worse!" Drew struck the desk a blow with his -fist that set even a "Meditating Buddha" dancing. "Why, look at it; we -raid two well-known headquarters, and what do we get? A quart of pocket -knives. The Galloping Ghost suggests that we whittle soft wood with each -one of these, then examine the cuttings for irregularities on the edge of -the knife, after which we are to compare each with the shavings found on -the night of the now famous kidnaping. And what do we find? Exactly -nothing. The whittling was not done by any one of these knives. So back -they go. And where are we? Nowhere. - -"The Chief's yelling his head off. People are saying the police are -asleep. Daily papers are impatient. University people are furious. The -Red Rover is still a captive, and each day brings the great game nearer. -Football! Why did anyone ever invent the game?" He sprang to his feet and -began pacing the floor. - -"Why did they kidnap Red anyway?" he demanded fiercely. "I ask you that. -No ransom money has been demanded. Why?" - -"Perhaps," suggested Johnny, "they mean to wait until the very day of the -game. They may figure that is the psychological moment for making a -demand." - -"There might be something to that," Drew said earnestly. "Might be a lot. -And if there is--" Once again his voice rose. "If there is, we've got to -get them before that time comes! Kidnaping's been too easy. Too many -soft-livered millionaires have paid large sums for their release or the -release of some child. We've got to give 'em a lesson!" - -"But how are you to get them?" - -"We must find a way. There's still that invisible footprint on the -sleeping car bed sheet." - -"And there's my jimmy bar," said Johnny hopefully. - -"Yes, that's the very bar, right enough. But where did you find it? In -the speed boat of a boy in his 'teens. You can't very well pin a -super-kidnaping on a mere boy." - -"N-no," Johnny said slowly, "and you wouldn't want to. Young Angelo is a -fine chap. Good looking, and all that. Got everything--speed boat--going -to have a faster one--big car--going to college, and all that." - -"All that?" Drew sat up and stared at him. "Didn't know there was that -much in the cut flower business, not these days. Flowers, you'd say, are -a luxury. And luxuries have been hit hard. Guess I'll quit being a cop, -and go in for flowers." - -Johnny thought of the rough reception accorded him in the place beneath -the flower shop, and wondered a big wonder. Should he tell Drew about -that? Well, perhaps, some time. Not now. He hadn't quite thought the -thing through yet. - -"But the man with the scar and the fiery eyes!" he suggested. "You've got -the goods on him. That was his gun. He fired that shot at Tom, didn't -he?" - -"Yes, he fired the shot. But he's vanished off the earth, so far as we -can see. - -"And besides," he added, pushing a sheet of paper toward the boy, -"besides, there is this." - -"The old G.G. again!" Johnny said, catching his breath. - -"None other. Read it." - -Johnny read: - - _Drew Lane: You are on the wrong track. The man who fired the shot was - not the kidnaper. For his motives consult the Rogues' Gallery. The - trail you seek leads north._ - - "_The G.G._" - -"North!" Drew exploded. "How far north? Which way? How? By train, plane -or boat? If he wishes to help us, why doesn't he be more explicit?" - -"Perhaps," suggested Johnny, "that's all he knows at present. - -"And," he added thoughtfully, "we ourselves might go on from there." - -"How?" - -"Well, you know, in the newspaper offices they have what they call an -Exchange Department. Papers from all over the world are on file there. If -a fellow went there and studied all the papers published up north in -Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota and Canada, he might discover a clue. Some -paragraph telling of some mysterious occurrence might just put a fellow -on the right track." - -"It might." Drew's tone was dubious. "Sounds a little like it came out of -a book. But you go ahead and try it. Jimmie Drury over at the News will -see that you get a look at the files. Tell him I sent you. - -"And while you're on the ramble, just drop over to the State Street -Station and see if you can find the picture of a crook with a cross -branded on his temple. Old G.G. suggested that. - -"But I'll tell you what I am beginning to think of that Galloping Ghost! -I think he's a fake! Or even worse, a crook that's giving us a bum steer, -throwing us off the trail. I've more than half a notion to burn every -other love letter he sends us before I read it. - -"Because, look!" Once more he was pacing the floor. "If an honest fellow -was wearing a sheet and posing as a ghost, if he had some real -information about a case like this--one that interests the whole -country--why wouldn't he let us in on his secret, come right round in his -street clothes and tell us his story? What I say is--" - -He broke straight off to stare at the door. Some one had begun rattling -it violently. - -"Johnny, see who's there." - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - THE SHOE - - -Red Rodgers and Berley Todd lost no time in making their way back to the -scout's cabin. If those men who blinded and shot the moose were the -kidnapers then they were safest under the protection of Ed's "shootin' -irons." - -"Those men," Ed said, when he had heard their story, "more'n likely were -not your kidnapers at all. Moose hunters, more'n likely." - -"Moose hunters!" Berley Todd exploded. "You're not allowed to kill a -moose on Isle Royale!" - -"Who said you were?" Ed threw back his head and laughed. "They're not -allowed to kidnap star football players and little half-portions like -you, but here you are all the same! - -"Case is not parallel though," he added thoughtfully. "These men who come -to the island for moose need the meat to feed their families; anyway -that's their excuse. - -"And it's good enough excuse for me!" he added emphatically. "I'm neither -deputy nor game warden. I'm here to guard the buildings of this resort -from fire and theft. If I interfere with these moose hunters I'm likely -to be found cold and stiff under the snow." - -"But it is a shame!" Berley said quietly. "Moose are such magnificent -creatures! And Isle Royale is about the only place you can see them. -Think of the hundreds who come to the island every year just to see -them." - -"Y-e-s," Ed drawled, "I've thought of them and I've wondered why the -moose are not protected in winter. But that distinctly ain't my job. So -there you are." - -"I'm not so sure those men were not members of the kidnaping band. There -must be batteries and spotlights on the plane. They could hook those up -and use them. They'll be needing meat. Why shouldn't they hunt moose?" - -"Might be, but I doubt it." Ed stirred the fire. - -"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Berley Todd, as a sudden thought took possession of -her. "Suppose those were moose hunters. Suppose they were to meet the -kidnapers. Suppose they think the kidnapers are wardens and deputies; and -the kidnapers think they're detectives from the city. Suppose they meet -and shoot it out!" - -"And then suppose we come upon them all dead with their boots on," Red -drawled. "They do that in the movies. - -"Ed," he demanded, "when will this storm end?" - -"Perhaps day after to-morrow." - -Red stared angrily at the fire. The girl threw him a teasing glance as -she sang low: - -"Come, play with me." - -"All right!" he exclaimed almost fiercely, "I'll play with you to-morrow -and the day after if need be; anyway until the kidnapers catch up with us -or we are able to leave the island." - -"If you care to row," Ed suggested, "it's not too rough in the harbor. If -you were to wear my canvas coat and cowboy hat--" He turned to Red. "If -you went out before dawn and if Berley, here, sat low in the stern, no -one would know but that it was just old Ed and his dog. You could play -around among the little islands all day and be safe." - -"Shall we?" Berley's tone was almost wistful. "We'll take a lunch and eat -it on the rocks." - -"Might be worse," Red admitted. "Rowing will at least keep me in trim for -the great day. And now for some sleep!" He disappeared behind the narrow -curtain that led to one of the cubby-hole bedrooms in Ed's cabin. - -"The great day," he whispered to himself, as he slid beneath the covers. -That day now seemed very, very far away. But quite unconsciously he was -losing his feeling of long weariness. The spring of youth was flooding -back through every nerve and fiber of his being. "If only I could get a -whack at that line," he thought dreamily. "If only I could!" - - * * * * * * * * - -The person banging at Drew Lane's door was none other than the person -known as the Rat. Drew was surprised to see him. The Rat, like others of -his kind, seldom appeared unless called. The object he unwrapped before -the young detective's astonished eyes was, he thought, worth a trip half -way round the world. It was the shoe that had made the invisible -footprint on the sleeping car sheet. Once Drew's eyes fell upon it, he -sat and stared. A full minute had passed into eternity before he could -say: - -"Where did you find it?" - -"You know dat place beside de river? Down below de flower shop? Angelo -Piccalo's shop? Dat's de place." - -Drew looked at Johnny. Johnny looked at Drew. - -"Rat," said Drew, "you're a great old finder. Here's a fiver. Now scram!" - -The Rat vanished. - -For a long time the detective and his young friend sat staring at the -shoe. - -"Johnny," said Drew at last, "they say you can't keep birds from flying -over your head, but you can prevent their building nests in your hair. -Also, 'Where there is much smoke there must be some fire.' First there's -the jimmy bar, and now there's this shoe. Looks as if we were beginning -to see light. Do you get me?" - -"I--I think I do," replied Johnny, in anything but a cheerful voice. - -Johnny was on his way early next morning. He crossed the bridge and was -about to pass the flower shop without going in, when Angelo stepped out -of the door. - -"Gooda morning, meester Johnny! Dees ees one--a fine morning." - -"Yes, sure, Angelo, it is fine." - -Apparently a box had been opened beside the flower shop door. The box was -gone, but some broken fragments of wood remained. Picking up one of -these, Angelo began to whittle absent-mindedly. His actions so fascinated -the boy that he found it hard to talk coherently. However, he forced -himself into the task of talking about the weather, the river, speed -boats and rare flowers. In the meantime he watched the keen blade of -Angelo's knife chipping out short, sharp shavings of wood. - -"He's nervous. His fingers tremble," he told himself. - -A customer appeared. Angelo went inside. After a furtive glance, Johnny -bent over, seized a handful of Angelo's shavings, then hurried away. - -A block down the street he paused to drop the shavings into a used -envelope and thrust them into the side pocket of his coat. "Exhibit A," -he murmured as he marched on toward the office of the News where he was -to study Exchanges. "Exhibit A. I wonder!" - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - ON THE "SLEEPING LION" - - -That morning, in the ghostly hour just before dawn, Red Rodgers and -Berley Todd crept out into the frosty air of Isle Royale. - -"To-day," the girl whispered, "we are to play." - -And yet, as she stood upon the rocks watching the waves that, now roaring -as they rose, now whispering as they fell, broke upon those rugged -shores, she seemed to see beneath their surface grim black hands -stretching out to grasp her. - -It was strange, those black waters in the eerie hour before dawn. Even -the staunch young athlete felt it and was silent. - -Once stout oars were in their hands, however, all was changed. To feel -the rise and fall of the boat, to skim the crests of waves, to catch the -rhythmic rowing that, like a song in the night, seemed to lift them and -bear them down--this was life. - -"How she can row!" Red told himself, as he felt the push of her oars send -the boat along. - -"When the time comes," he said aloud, "we will make it." - -"Yes," the girl replied, "but the time is not to-day." - -That she spoke the truth Red was soon enough to know. In the sheltered -channel of Rock Harbor the waves were mere rushing ripples of foam. But -once they came to a gap between two small islands that looked out into -the open sea, great swells caught their frail craft and, tossing it back, -flecked them with foam. - -"The voice of many waters." In the girl's tone there was a touch of awe. -"In that storm, on the open lake, no small boat could live. To-morrow we -play." - -Surrendering himself to the will of the elements, Red Rodgers played. But -even as they sent their boat gliding along to the time of a song, as they -climbed some rocky ledge to stand breathless looking off at the -storm-tossed waters, or fought their way forward through masses of -tangled vegetation to some crag where they might find a broader view, he -whispered to himself: - -"I am keeping fit. Even this is training for the day that is to come." -And then, as his mind sobered, he wondered: "Will that day ever come?" - -At noon they built a fire on a tiny beach and brewed coffee. They ate -their lunch in silence. There was that about this day of storm which made -silence seem a mood to prize. - -Just as the sun was sinking in the west, they turned the prow of their -boat into a narrow opening, then shot her squarely into the teeth of a -storm. Throwing all the force of their perfect bodies into the business -of rowing, they conquered one gigantic wave, another, another, and yet -another. - -Their boat was but a cork in the midst of a great ocean, yet they dared -accept the wild waves' challenge. Again, again, and yet again, they -fought their way up and over, up and over until they were twenty -boat-lengths out to sea. - -Then, with a laugh that was good to hear, Red swung the boat about and -they went riding the waves back to shelter and safety. - -"That," he breathed, "is life--life--life!" - -Five minutes later they lay upon a bed of moss at the back of a tiny -island known as "Sleeping Lion" because of the mane-like crest of bushes -that crowns its ridge, watching the blue-black waters turn to the silvery -gray of night. - -Never had the boy witnessed such a sight. Starting at the rocks nearest -them, the spray moved along the island shores. And every separate spray -seemed a light that flashed with one white gleam, then faded into -darkness. - -"Old Father Superior is lighting his lamps," the girl whispered. Once -again there was awe in her tone. - -So they lingered on the "Sleeping Lion" until the afterglow had faded and -Father Superior's lamps were lost in the shades of night. - -It was the girl who at last broke the silence. "See!" She spoke in a -voice that was mellow as the tones of a cello. "See! The light that -beckons!" - -As Red looked away across the surging sea he caught the gleam of a lamp -that, winking and blinking, cast its beams from afar. - -"The Passage Island light," he murmured huskily. "The light that shall -guide us safely when the time comes. But to-night--" - -"To-night we dare not." - -Rising as if to break the spell that had been cast upon her, Berley Todd -went whirling through a wild dance. A weird place for a dance. Sea gulls, -wakened by this sudden commotion, circled aloft screaming. The very waves -appeared to lapse into silence, a silence that was to be broken at once -by such a mad onrush as threatened to seize her and drag her away into -waters as black as night. - -"Come!" she cried. "We must go!" - -Shoving their boat off the rocks, they paddled silently back to the -island shore where, after concealing their boat, they made their way -cautiously through the spruce trees to Ed's cabin, and one more steaming -bowl of Mulligan stew. - -The day, however, was not over. Wild adventures awaited them in the -night. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - A VISIT IN THE NIGHT - - -As Johnny Thompson returned to Drew Lane's room in the early evening of -that day, he found himself now in a mood of high exaltation and now in -one of deep depression. He felt that he had, half by good fortune and -half by earnest endeavor, come close to the solution of a crime that had -filled the front pages of the nation's press for days. At the same time -he found the accusing hand of Fate pointing straight at a friend. - -To Johnny friendship was a sacred thing. He worshiped often at the altar -of friendship. To his friends he gave his utmost in loyalty and devotion. -Never until now had he asked himself the question: "What am I to do if -one of these friends proves unworthy of this loyalty and devotion?" There -had been no need. But now-- - -"There's the matter of the jimmy bar found in the speed boat," he told -himself gloomily. "There is the shoe that made the invisible footprint on -the sheet. There is the wrist-watch band studded with green stones from -Isle Royale. There is that place down by the river front from which I was -ejected. Ejected!" He chuckled at this. They had put him out of the -place, right enough. But he had done plenty to them after that, those two -bouncers. "Yes," he sighed, "it sure looks bad!" - -He was relieved to find that both Drew and Tom were away. Letting himself -in by a key Drew had given him, he dropped into a chair and for a full -half hour sat there alone in the dark, thinking; and those were long, -long thoughts. - -"After all," he sighed, as at last he sat up in his chair, "one's first -duty is to his nation and her laws, to the whole community and not to one -individual who has gone wrong." - -At this he switched on a light and began to write. When he had finished -he placed on Drew Lane's desk a concise statement of all that had come -under his observation regarding the kidnaping of the Red Rover. To this -he attached a single newspaper clipping. He had found this after hours of -search in a humble sheet which bore the name "Mining Gazette." This paper -was published in a small city far up on the North Peninsula of Michigan. -The clipping read: - - MYSTERIOUS PLANE HEARD OVER ISLE ROYALE - - _Pierre LeBlanc, the head lighthouse keeper on Passage Island, four - miles off Isle Royale, reports by radio this morning that late in the - night he heard the drum of an airplane motor in the direction of Isle - Royale. It is his belief that the plane landed in one of the bays or - harbors of the island. Whether it took off later, he was unable to - tell._ - - _Since the only persons on the island are a fisherman or two and a - care-taker at Rock Harbor Lodge, the reason for this mysterious landing - will not soon be known._ - -"Drew," Johnny wrote after pinning the clipping to a sheet of paper, -"this newspaper was printed the day after the Red Rover's disappearance. -I have stated all the facts as I have them, and leave you to draw your -own conclusions. - -"Here also is an envelope containing some shavings. Have Tom examine -them. They may have been made by the knife he has been seeking. - -"One thing more. I found the picture of your friend of the scar and the -fiery eye in the Rogues' Gallery. Can't be any mistake. He is Bat Morgan. -His home is in St. Louis. That is probably why you did not find him when -you really wanted him." - -After scribbling "Johnny" after this note, he dropped a paper weight on -it, pulled his cap down over his eyes, caught an elevator and was soon -out in the cool air of night. - - * * * * * * * * - -"I wonder!" There was a look of longing in Berley's eyes as she stared at -Ed's half burned out fire. "Wonder if we dare venture out into the -night." - -"Why?" The scout shot her a glance. - -"I was thinking of our summer home. Do you have the key?" - -"Yes." - -"It would be fine if Red could see it. I--I want him to come back when -summer comes." A dreamy look overspread her face. "Good old summer time," -she murmured, "with southern breezes whispering softly, birches gleaming -white in the moonlight and strange birds singing one another to sleep. -Summer time--" She was singing softly now: "Good old summer time. Will -you come and play with me?" - -Red grinned in spite of himself. Then his face sobered as he replied -huskily: - -"Perhaps--if summer ever comes again for you and me." - -He had not forgotten, would not forget as long as they were on the -island, that they were escaped victims of kidnapers, that those men were -still about and that he carried in his pocket the magneto parts that -would keep them from escaping from the island. - -Why did he not cast these bits of metal into the lake where water is -deep? Because he had hopes, rather wild hopes, but hopes all the same, -that some one would arrive at the island who could pilot that powerful -plane. He could not. Ed could not, but there were many who could. So he -clung to his hopes and to the magneto parts. - -"Come!" said Berley Todd, snuffing out the candle. "Come with me to the -place where I have always found happiness--my summer home." - -Obeying her command, Ed strapped on one "shootin' iron," handed the other -to the young football star, and then led the way out into the night. - -The darkness at this moment was complete. Later there was to be a moon, a -fact long to be remembered. With the unerring instinct of a woodsman, the -scout led the way over the winding path. Berley and Red followed -silently. - -There were sounds in that night of darkness. Off to the right the -snapping of a twig sounded like the report of a gun. - -"Probably Old Uncle Ned," the girl whispered. - -And then, from Ed: "Here we are. Now for the key." - -Up a tall flight of stairs they tiptoed. Next moment they were inside -some place that seemed vast and silent in that darkness. - -"Wait!" - -Berley moved about. There were sounds of shades being drawn. - -"Now." - -A match flared. Shavings on the hearth blazed up. Soon a great fire on -the wide hearth was burning freely and the place was as light as day. - -They were safe enough for all that. The massive door was locked and -barred. The windows were high from the ground, and all were shaded. - -Red took the place in with one sweeping glance. The fireplace was -immense. Up from this ran a wide chimney covered by a curious rug woven -by Indians. - -Before the fire were wide-seated, comfortable chairs. On the mantel stood -a rustic clock made of birchwood. Berley set this going. Its cheerful -tick-tock, tick-tock filled the silent place. - -As Berley stole a glance at the young football star she read approval in -his eyes, and was satisfied. - -"Makes you think of those places you read about in English history." His -smile was good to see. "There should be a whole quarter of beef roasting -over the fire, spears and armor hanging on the walls, the head of a wild -boar above the mantel. - -"But after all it's great just as it is. I only wish we were here under -more happy circumstances." He dropped into the chair farthest from the -blazing fire. - -"We're safe enough for the present, at least," said Ed, lighting his -pipe. - -Berley Todd sent him a smile of gratitude. It was evident that for one -short evening she wished to feel safe and quite at home. - -Our minds are strange. One moment we may be in the dark, surrounded, we -imagine, by hostile foes. Our minds are filled with all sorts of -forebodings. The next we are before a blazing fire in our own home where -we have known peace, and presto! all is changed; fear goes, peace comes, -we know not how. - -"I'm glad you like it." Berley Todd spoke as one in a dream. "When I -think of the good times we have had here, and of the trips we have -planned before this fire! How good it all was!" Her voice trailed off to -nothing. - -Red saw from the look on her face that she was thinking: "Oh, bury me not -on the lone prairee." He wished she might forget entirely for one short -hour. - -"Tell me about it, those other days." There was an unaccustomed -gentleness in his tone. - -"Those golden days?" Her face brightened. "How we would sit here planning -by the fire! 'To-morrow we will round the Point in the little boat and go -far back into Tobin's Harbor; back to Talman's Island. There are wild -raspberries growing round that cabin. And some great old speckled trout -lie in the rocks nearby.' - -"Talman's Island!" Her voice changed. It was shot through with fear and -pain. "That is the island where they were holding us prisoners, you and -I. There's another little island close by where they stayed themselves in -a tumble-down cabin. - -"Tell me," again the girl changed the subject, "how did they come to get -you?" - -"Took me in my sleep. Rolled me up in my blankets on the Pullman and -shoved me through the window. I went to sleep waiting for the train to -move up and pick up the rest of the squad. Carried me down the river in -the speed boat, then over to some place where they put me on the plane. -Then, thunder through the night, the roar of motors, and there I was in -that cabin, there on the island. - -"And you?" - -"It was all absurdly simple," she sighed. "One can't be rich and happy, -it seems, these days. Perhaps no one should wish to be. I don't know." -There was a world of questioning in her tone. - -"Our home is large. The grounds that surround it are broad. I loved to -walk there in the moonlight alone. Had I been the cook or the maid, I -might have walked in peace. But the daughter-- - -"Well, two men seized me one night and carried me away in a car. I kicked -out and bit and tried to scream. It did no good." - -She paused as if exhausted by the very thought of it. - -"They brought me up here," she began again, after a time. "Just as they -did you. I had been in that little pen of logs a whole day before they -brought you. It--it was rather terrible. But by and by it came to me that -I was on Isle Royale. - -"Do you know," a faint smile played about her lips, "if I must leave this -gloriously beautiful world, which of course some time I must, I'd sort of -like to be on Isle Royale when that day comes. It wouldn't be so hard, -the parting. And somehow I feel that, after all, it's just passing from -beauty to more beauty." - -For a long time after that there was silence in the room. Only the -ceaseless rush of waters on the shore, and the friendly tick-tock of the -clock disturbed the stillness of the night. - -"They wanted you to sign a paper," Red suggested after a time. - -"The kidnapers? Yes, they did. Wanted me to say I was in great distress. -Wanted me to beg my father to give them money, twenty thousand dollars, -to save my life." - -"And you wouldn't." - -"No." Her big blue eyes shone with a new light. "Why should I? They are -outlaws of the worst type. If I had done what they wished I would have -been helping them. I have not much strength. I have a little. If they get -my father's money they will be encouraged, will go on with their terrible -business. They will take some one far weaker than I, a defenseless baby, -perhaps. - -"Some time one must die." Her eyes were large and round. "Why not now, if -need be, and for a good cause? If they catch me again and put an end to -me, my father will spend his fortune hunting them down. What finer -tribute could one have to one's memory?" - -"What indeed?" Red's eyes shone with true admiration. "But they'll not -get you." - -Berley Todd did not reply. Instead she rose and began walking slowly back -and forth in the large room. She was humming, and the words were these: -"Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee." - -"Now," said the boy with a laugh that came perilously near being a sob, -"it's time we were going back." - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - UNCLE NED DOES HIS BIT - - -The moon was out when they took the trail that led to Ed's cabin. By -moving along single file in the shadows they were able to keep themselves -concealed. - -They had covered more than half the distance to the cabin when of a -sudden Berley, who was in the lead, stopped short to press her companions -back into the deeper shadows. - -"Some--some one skulking about the cabin!" she whispered tensely. - -And there he was. There could be no doubt about it. The moon, skirting a -corner of their cabin, left there for a space of seconds the wavering -shadow of a man. Ten seconds passed, and the shadow vanished. - -"Do--do you think it's the kidnapers?" Despite her bravest efforts the -girl could not prevent her teeth from chattering. - -"Don't know who it is," the scout grumbled in a hoarse whisper. "Only one -way to deal with a skulker. Go after him! - -"Look!" He turned to Red. "In another moment a cloud will be over the -moon. Only a small cloud. Soon pass. But time enough. When it gets dark, -you go scooting down the Tobin's Harbor trail. He went that way. Go down -two hundred feet or more, then drop off into the bush. I'll go round the -cabin and come in from the left. When the moon comes out I'll flush him -some way. After that the best man wins. - -"You--you'd better stay here," he said to Berley. - -Berley did not stay there. As Red went skulking down that trail in the -dark, she followed. She was afraid, but being in the darkness alone with -prowlers about, who might carry her away, was worse than being on the -firing line. - -Obeying instructions, Red followed the trail a hundred paces or less, -then dropped away into the shadows. - -Finding a place where the moss grew thick before a great rock, he drew -the girl down beside him. "Really there's no reason to be excited." He -felt her heart's wild beating. "Probably we'll not see him again this -night. He's just scouting around to see who's here. Not likely to find -out much. He--" - -The girl's hand pressed hard on his arm. Off to the left there was a -sound of movement. And then the moon came out. - -Instantly from the bush an automatic barked. The shot had been fired at -the scout. He dropped--not with a bullet wound, for the rascal had -missed--but for the purpose of securing a safe position and waiting his -turn. It had been many years since any one had presumed to shoot at this -scout; years of peace they had been, and now this, a shot in the night. -His mighty "shootin' iron" roared its reply. - -The thing that happened after that will never be fully credited by either -Red or the girl, and that in spite of the fact that they saw it with -their own eyes. - -The moon was out in all its glory. From their observation post before the -great rock they thought they made out a skulking figure off to the right -and not far off the Tobin's Harbor trail. At the same time they caught a -sound of movement still further back in the bush. - -"There are more, perhaps three or four of them." Berley pressed Red's arm -hard. "They--they're trying to surround us!" - -How wrong she was they were soon enough to know, for the skulking figure, -having come to rest, lifted his head so far above the thimbleberry bushes -as to leave it in clear view. - -"That--" Red's voice was a bit unsteady. "That's one of them. Sha-shall I -shoot?" - -"No, no. That one in the bushes will get you if you do." - -Then astonishing things began to happen. The man on the moonlit trail -lifted his gun, took quick aim and fired, not at the scout, not at Red, -but at the moving spot in the bushes. - -Instantly from out those bushes came a charging terror. All legs and head -and saber-pointed antlers, he came straight at the offender who had fired -that last shot. Old Uncle Ned, veteran bull moose of Isle Royale, had -beyond doubt been nicked by a bullet. Revenge he would have, and did. - -At sight of him the terrified gangster leaped high in air to clear the -bushes. He was caught squarely by those murderous antlers. Then moose and -man plunged forward into the dark clump of evergreen growing by the -trail. - -There came the sound of crashing boards, followed by the hoarse breathing -of some creature engaged in a life and death struggle. There were many -seconds of this and then, staggering like a drunken man, Old Uncle Ned -came out to the trail and went slowly plodding his way into the distant -dark. - -They waited for the man to appear. A moment ticked its way into eternity, -a second and a third. From far away came the maniacal laugh of a loon. - -"Red," the girl whispered at last, "did you hear that cracking sound?" - -"Yes. What was it?" - -"Red, do you know what there is by that clump of black trees?" - -"No. What is it?" - -"Red, can you guess what has happened?" - -"No." Red was very patient. "What has happened?" - -"Red," she drew a long breath, "Red, there is a hole, a very deep hole, -ninety feet they say, at the edge of that clump of black trees. It's an -old mine, almost full of water, green slimy water. There--there was a -fence around it, a very poor fence. Old Uncle Ned pushed the man in -there! He--he fell part way in, Uncle Ned did, but he came out again. The -man did not come out. He will never come out." - -"Is--is that true?" Red half rose on one elbow. "Then we must try to save -him. He's bad. But he's a man. Can't let a man die that way." - -Red went creeping away in the shadows. The girl followed. When they -reached the edge of the clump of trees they found the scout flat on his -stomach, flashing a light into the dark hole that had once been a copper -mine. - -"Gone, I guess," he said in a very even tone. "His cap is floating down -there. Some bubbles came up, but he--he hasn't come." - -Red squatted down beside him. The girl stood looking down. For five -minutes, like figures posed for a piece of statuary, they held their -positions. Then, as he rose stiffly, the scout said: - -"Gone, all right enough!" Then in a tone that was like a church bell -tolling in the night: "He was bad, probably all through; but for all that -he was a man. It's our duty to ask peace on his soul." - -For a moment their heads were bowed in silent prayer. Then, like a squad -that has fired a salute over a comrade's grave, they right-about-faced -and marched solemnly away into the night. - -The scout led the way in silence back to the cabin. He did not stop -there, but marched straight on. The others, not a little puzzled at his -actions, paused and then followed. Before a stone slab standing out black -in the uncertain light, he paused. - -"That," he said, "marks the grave of an honest man, a copper miner. No -word is inscribed on that stone, yet the fact that he worked as a miner -marks him as one who at least was willing to labor for his bread. - -"It seems a little strange," there was a curious huskiness in his voice, -"that more than fifty years ago this one, whom his comrades honored with -a marked grave, should have labored to dig that deep hole in the earth -that, never a success as a mine, has now become a grave for one who -deserved little honor. Sort of seems to prove that no man labors in -vain." - -Having delivered this simple sermon, he turned and led the way back to -the cabin. - -A few moments later he left once more to return with a heavy object in -his hands. - -"Here. Take this," he said to Red. - -Red reached out for the thing, sank forward, all but dropped it, then -exclaimed: - -"Whew! How heavy!" - -"Native copper," said Ed with a smile. "Taken from the earth when the -foundation for the lodge was laid." - -"Looks as if it had been melted," said Red. - -"Probably was, before man came upon the earth. Float copper, they call -it. Indians mined it on Isle Royale many generations before the white men -came. It was a prized possession. Spear points, arrow points, skinning -knives, knives for fighting could be made from it." - -"But why are there no mines here now?" Red had visions of becoming a -pioneer copper miner. Next to steel he loved copper best of all. - -"That was tried more than fifty years ago. That's what that miner's grave -means out there. Copper mining was tried in many places. Had it not been -for the supposed wealth of copper deposits here, the United States would -never have owned Isle Royale. It would have gone to Canada. We bought it -from the Indians. And, after years of labor, the copper miners discovered -that copper mining on Isle Royale would never pay. - -"And now," he concluded, "it is one great big beautiful playground, the -safe home of wild life, and will be, I hope, for years to come." - -"I believe," he said, after a period of silence, "that some time -to-morrow the wind will fall. To-morrow night you may have an opportunity -to tackle the great adventure--your row to Passage Island. To-night and -to-morrow you must rest. - -"I'd gladly go with you when the time comes," he added thoughtfully, "but -I am large and heavy. I have a left arm that goes back on me when I row -hard and long. Got a bullet there once. But you'll make it all right. -You'll make it. Never fear." - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - THE TRAIL LEADS NORTH - - -After leaving Drew Lane's room, Johnny Thompson had walked the streets -for hours. He needed to think. He could think best while walking, so he -walked. - -He had gone back on a man he thought of as a friend. Or had he? At least, -it appeared that way to him now. Does there ever come a time when it is -one's duty to turn his back upon a friend? A hard question. He could not -answer it. - -Three times he passed the flower shop by the bridge. The shop was closed, -yet a light cast upon the flowers in the window displayed Angelo's skill -as a florist. He was an artist in this field. No one could equal him. -Could a man be an artist and yet be a rascal? Angelo loved music. Often -he had talked to Johnny of symphony concerts, and of grand opera. Could -one love the best in music and yet be a villain at heart? - -He walked across the bridge and back again. The place below the shop was -completely dark to-night. No procession of men was passing down that -flight of stairs. Perhaps Angelo had nothing to do with that which went -on below his shop. Perhaps he knew nothing of it. - -Once again his mind took up the problem. Angelo had always been friendly. -His smile was contagious. Was it true that a man could "smile and smile, -and be a villain"? - -He gave the problem up at last, returned to his room, and was soon fast -asleep. - -He was awakened next moment by the jangling of the telephone. Snatching -the receiver, he said: - -"Good morning! Johnny Thompson speaking." - -"Johnny," came back an excited voice, "it's Drew! We're on the right -trail at last. The old G.G. was right, has been right all the time. The -trail leads north, five hundred miles, I'd say. Going in the red racer -just after noon. Want to see this thing through with me?" - -"You--you mean go--" Johnny was shaking all over. - -"Sure! Go north with me." - -"You--you know I do." - -"Right! I'll be over here at twelve. We'll have a bite of chow; shoot -over to the aviation field, and be on our way." The receiver clicked. He -was gone. - -Johnny sat down on his bed. He was dizzy. "The trail leads north," he -muttered. "He didn't say: 'Johnny, you're a brick!' or any of that sort -of stuff, or 'You put us right.' Nothing like that. Just 'The trail leads -north.' - -"Well," he thought more soberly, "perhaps I'm not a brick. Perhaps I -didn't put them right. Perhaps I'm a hundred per cent dumb." - -As he sat there alone he realized that he hoped with all his heart that -he had been entirely wrong. "And yet," he murmured, "and yet-- - -"Oh, well!" he exclaimed, "'A cup of coffee, a piece of pie and you.' -To-morrow's another day. To-morrow we shall probably know. - -"But five hundred miles due north!" His mind sobered. "Just Drew Lane and -I. - -"Drew's developed into a swell pilot. He'll take us there O.K. But after -that?" - -He had been through some tight places with Drew Lane, as you will know if -you have read _The Arrow of Fire_. - -"Tight places," he muttered. "Looks like this might be tighter! - -"But, as I said before, 'A cup of coffee, a piece of pie and you.'" - - * * * * * * * * - -As Johnny Thompson and Drew Lane sped northward in the red racer that -afternoon, Johnny found plenty of time for thought. Sober thoughts were -his. At the airport Drew had said never a word regarding their coming -adventure, nor the facts that had led him to take this wild dash into the -north. - -Like a mill set to grind out products by electrical power, the boy's mind -went over the facts that lay before him. As he closed his eyes he could -see a rusty jimmy bar lying in the back of young Angelo's boat. He could -feel the weight of it as he carried it home and he experienced again his -sharp surprise as Tom Howe discovered that this was the very bar that had -pried open Red's car window. - -"But that proved nothing," he told himself. "Any one could have hidden -the bar in that speed boat. - -"But there is the invisible footprint." His mind was off again. He saw -the footprint appearing under the eerie purple light, saw it fade, then -appear again. - -"And the shoe that made that footprint on the Red Rover's sheet was found -close to the door beneath Angelo's flower shop. - -"But _that_ proves nothing." He said the words aloud to the thundering -motors. "Any one can drop a pair of shoes by your door. - -"And yet--" He saw again the figures in that room of mystery beneath -Angelo's shop. Who were those men? Why were they there? Why were so many -of them wearing black looks? And why had they attempted to throw him out? - -"After all," he told himself, "it all depends upon the last bit of -evidence I turned in, the shavings made by Angelo's pocket knife. If Tom -Howe can show that the shavings found near the Red Rover's car were made -by that same knife, then I shall be convinced. And once one is convinced -that a supposed friend is a law-breaker there is but one thing he can do: -see that he is brought to justice. No enemy of my country can continue to -claim me as a friend." - -But what had Tom and Drew found out? This remained to be seen. - -Suddenly his attention was caught by Drew Lane. Drew was leaning far -over, looking at something. There was a worried look on his face. But at -last he settled back in his place. - -Again Johnny saw in his mind's eye the picture of that glassy-eyed one -with the scar. Then a thought struck him all of a heap. "Suppose we are -going after that man and his pals. Suppose they are all there, the -glassy-eyed one, the big man like a baboon and his son, the three all -alike, and the others!" A thrill coursed up and down his spine. A not -entirely comfortable feeling took possession of him. They were but two, -he and Drew. There was a small black bag at Drew's feet. It was full of -blue-black weapons and ammunition. He knew that. "But two--just two of -us." - -He dismissed the thought. Drew was game, game to the last drop. But he -was no fool. - -Once again Johnny closed his eyes. This time it was a different sort of -person who walked across the walls of his memory; a tall man with smiling -eyes; very tall and very thin; Jimmie Drury, the reporter from the News. - -He had gone to Jimmie to obtain permission to go through the exchange -files, and then a curious thing had happened. It puzzled him still. -"How'd he know?" he grumbled. "How _could_ he? And yet, he seemed -terribly sure." - -Jimmie had been very cordial. "A fellow that's Drew Lane's friend is -welcome here any time." He had smiled a broad smile. "What are you -looking up?" - -"It has to do with the kidnaping of the Red Rover," Johnny explained. - -"The Red Rover!" Jimmie whistled. "What do you know about that case?" - -"Several things." Johnny had been on his guard. "Got a lot of -disconnected facts. Why don't you get in touch with Drew Lane and find -out about it?" - -"I am in touch with Drew." A curious look came over Jimmie's face. -"Closer than even he may--" He had checked himself as if he had said too -much. - -Johnny looked at him and then a curious suspicion had popped into his -mind. Jimmie was long and slim, little more than a skeleton in blue -serge. - -"A--a skeleton. A--" He had nearly thought another word, but not quite. - -What he had said to Jimmie was: "Drew doubts the Galloping Ghost; thinks -he's trying to get him off on the wrong trail." - -Then again a strange look had flashed across the reporter's face as he -exclaimed in a tone suggesting anger: "You tell Drew he'd better stick by -the Galloping Ghost. He's giving him straight dope!" - -"How could he know that?" Johnny asked himself now as he looked down once -more at the masses of black, white and dull green that were fields, lakes -and forests far below. - -There was little enough time to study this problem, for suddenly Drew -headed the red racer downward at a rakish slant. - -Down, down, down they went. Once the motor was off for a second. - -"This is the place?" Johnny demanded breathlessly. - -"Far from it. Something wrong." Drew spoke rapidly. "Got to go down and -see what. Land on the little lake yonder." - -Once more the motor roared. As the plane circled downward Johnny's hopes -fell. "Something wrong! We'll be here perhaps for hours. And get there -too late. What rotten luck!" - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - BATTLE OVER THE WAVES - - -There were hours of rest for the Red Rover and his staunch little -companion, a lulling of the wild storm that for many hours had lashed the -rocky shores of Isle Royale. Then came darkness and with it a swift -resolve to risk all on a night of pure adventure. - -A hearty handshake with the guide who had stood by them so staunchly, and -they were away. - -Slowly the tiny craft crept out upon the black waters of night. They had -dressed for the occasion, this girl and boy. He wore a suit of khaki -borrowed from the scout, she a boy's shirt found in one of the cabins, -and the patched knickers. Dressed so, and riding in their dark green -boat, only with difficulty would they be seen upon the dark waters. - -There were reasons for this precaution, the scout had assured them. -Having guessed their plan, the kidnapers might even now be lurking in the -shadow of some cove, ready to pounce upon them. For this Red was not -unprepared. One of the "shootin' irons" hung at his belt. - -Keeping close to shore, they passed great jagged piles of rock that -loomed large in the night. They crossed "Nebraska Bay," skirted more -rocks, then, following the scout's advice, cut boldly away toward the -rocky shoals which, because of the darkness, could not be seen. - -"Listen!" The boy rested on his oars. There came no sound save the sound -of heavy swells breaking lazily over distant rocks. - -"There'll be some roll out there," he murmured. - -Then over the waters there moved a breath of air that, beginning with a -whisper, ended with a sigh as it passed on into the night. - -"How weird it seems out here!" - -"Spooky!" - -To break the spell, they took up the oars. - -And now, as on that other occasion, they dropped into the steady rhythmic -swing that would carry them far and tire them not at all. - -They did not sing, nor whistle, nor even hum. That would not be safe. For -all that, their spirits blended as one as they swept along to the dreamy -swing of "Blue Danube," "Indian Love Song" and "Where the River Shannon -Flows." - -In the steel mill and on the gridiron the young football star had known -team work, but never such as this. Forgotten were the perils that lurked -in the night; forgotten the danger of darkness and possible storm. For -the moment here was life, life as he had never before known it. What else -could matter? - -So, with the moon just showing over the rocky crest of Isle Royale, they -swept across the narrow channel, then took up a course that in time would -lead them out into the wide open sea. - -The girl too had caught the spell of the night. As they stole into the -shadow of a great rock towering up from the depths, she shuddered, but -rowed steadily on. - -"A real little brick!" Red thought to himself. "Nothing soft." - -He resolved that, should they make it, she certainly must be on the side -lines in that greatest of all games that was to come. - -The rocks they passed grew lower and lower. The shoal was breaking up -here. Soon they would leave it all behind. And then, with only that -winking, blinking light to guide them, they would face the swells and go -gliding over them to--. Red's thoughts broke off. - -"Listen!" - -Had he heard something, the low groan of an oarlock, the mumble of a -voice? Who could say? It did not come again. - -Swinging the boat about, he headed it straight for the Passage Island -light that, gleaming a good four miles away, seemed to send them an -encouraging wink. - -With a rush of glee a great swell seized them and lifted them lightly. -But, like some good-natured giant, it let them down gently to go on their -way with a whispering swish of foam. - -And now, forgetting their songs, they put their shoulders to the task -before them. Meeting the swells at an angle to avoid the dash of chilling -waters, they rose on the crest of a high one to drop into the trough, -then swept across a half score of low crests, to be again lifted on high. - -"Listen!" - -This time it was the girl whose instinct told her to rest on her oars. -Once again there passed over the waters that whisper that ended in a -sigh. - -"It is as if voices of the Unseen were trying to tell us something, -perhaps to warn us." Her voice was low. "Do you believe in the Unseen?" - -"I--I don't know." It was weird, this whisper in the night. - -Once again they took up their oars. Not long had they to wait ere they -saw that which was creeping upon them in the night. The moon had long -been under a cloud. Now it sent its beams across every sweeping swell. -And upon one of these swells rode a boat. - -"A rowboat," Red grumbled low. "A boat and two men. Now it is life or -death. They are armed. They will not hesitate to shoot." - -Realizing the truth of his words, the girl thrilled to the very center of -her being. - -There was need for no explaining. The scout had been right; these men had -been watching. They had, perhaps, watched from the wrong point. This had -given the boy and girl a start. But now here they were, some hundreds of -yards behind, two men against a boy and a girl, and half the distance yet -to go. - -"Now!" The boy's hiss answered the hiss of a wave that rolled by. "Now we -must show them!" - -They did show them. They rowed with unity of motion and with all the -force God had given them; rowed until even in the chill of night their -faces ran with perspiration and their arms became bars of aching fire. - -And yet, it was not enough. Those others were rowing with the desperation -of those who hear the clanging of a prison gate behind them. Beyond a -doubt they knew prison life. Theirs was the frenzy of those whose souls -are stirred to the depths by great fear. They knew fear. This was their -only emotion. Love, pity, compassion, these they did not know. So they -worked with the frenzy of despair. - -And they gained now a boat's length, now another, another and yet -another. Each wave crest that lifted them high found them closer to their -prey. - -They would have won but for one man's over-reaching hate and the hosts of -"Invisible Ones" that the girl believed peopled the heavens. - -Of a sudden, weary with rowing, overcome by his burning hate, the man -nearest the prow threw down his oars. The next instant a shot rang out -and a bullet sang across the waters. - -"Lie down in the boat!" was Red's command to Berley. - -The girl hesitated, but obeyed. - -On the crest of the wave the boy bent low. Once again a bullet sang close -at hand. - -In the trough he rowed desperately. Swinging his boat half about, he -avoided, as long as he could, rising on the next crest. When at last he -did rise, he dropped flat beside his companion. - -Just in time. A bullet crashing into the boat passed over them. - -"Two can play at that." - -Red crept forward, placed his "shootin' iron" across the stern, waited -his time, then loosed a roar like the burst of a cannon. - -The answer came singing over--too high. - -Then, as if provoked by the unfairness of the battle, the "Unseen" took a -hand. Sudden darkness settled upon the water. A cloud as black as ink -came sweeping in from the north. A voice from the air, not a whisper, but -a roar, told them that one of those sudden storms that sweep across Lake -Superior in November was at hand. - -The girl was up and in her place on the instant. - -"And now may God have mercy on our souls!" she murmured, as Red seized -his oars and they began to row. - -Who can describe the fury of such a storm, the rushing of wind, waves -mounting higher and higher, foam hissing to the right and left of you, -darkness all about you, even the gleam of the light from Passage Island -lost for long, desperate moments? - -And yet you battle as never before. Heading your boat squarely into the -teeth of the storm, you rise and fall, rise and fall like a cork in the -center of the Atlantic. You battle. You pray. You hope until hope seems -vain. - -And then, just as all seems over, the storm passes with one long, -whispering sigh. - -As the moon came out and the rush of wind passed, the boy and girl looked -upon a world of steel-blue waves flecked with foam. And on those waves -some distance away there rode a boat. It was a white boat with an -orange-colored bottom. A great deal of orange was showing; very little -white. The boat was upside down. - -Once again, as they looked, Red said hoarsely: "Listen!" - -As before, there came the long whisper that ended with a sigh. - -But even as they rested on their oars there came to their listening ears -a louder sound, the drumming of an airplane's motor. - -"They are coming!" Red took up his oars. "Passage Island is just over -there. It can't be far now." - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - A HAUNTED BAY - - -As you have guessed, the plane heard by the Red Rover and Berley Todd was -Drew Lane's red racer. And Johnny Thompson was riding in the rear -cockpit. - -Drew had planned his trip well. They should have reached the island -before dark. But misfortune had befallen them. Forced down by a leaky -fuel pipe, they had found themselves on the surface of a small lake in -the midst of a great forest where there was no one. After two hours of -labor with a few tools and scant material, they had managed to repair the -leak. This delay had forced them to fly in the night, and here they were -approaching an island known to them only by reports and by a map that lay -spread out before Drew in the cockpit. - -Despite his meager knowledge, he did wonderfully well. Having arrived at -the east end of the island, he flew directly across it. Catching the -gleams of light that came from three narrow bands of water, he knew them -to be Rock Harbor, Tobin's Harbor and Duncan's Bay. Choosing the middle -one of these, he dropped low to go scooting along less than two hundred -feet in air. - -As he flew, the gleam of a powerful searchlight, attached to the plane, -played upon the water. - -Of a sudden that light shot upward, then blinked out. - -"Found what he was looking for," Johnny Thompson told himself. "But what -was it?" - -To this question he could form no certain answer; perhaps a boat, a cabin -or an airplane. In fact, Johnny was almost completely in the dark -regarding the purpose and probable outcome of this, the latest of Drew -Lane's adventures. - -When he had met the young detective he had said never a word. In silence -they had climbed into the plane and flown away. Who had kidnaped the Red -Rover and Berley Todd? Johnny did not know. Did Drew Lane know? Were the -kidnapers on this island? Was the Red Rover? Was Berley Todd? The boy did -not know. All he knew was that he appeared to be right bang up against -one more exciting adventure, and that was enough. - -Tipping the plane at a rakish angle, Drew Lane sent it over a narrow -ridge of land to drop at last upon a narrow stretch of black water. This -was Rock Harbor. The scout's cabin was not half a mile away. Hearing the -drum of a motor, he extinguished his light, then sprang to the door just -in time to see the plane land. - -"Hm!" he breathed. "More kidnapers, officers of the law, or just ordinary -folks. I expected to have a dull time at this place, all by myself, but -blamed if it ain't been exciting so far." - -At that he buckled his one remaining "shootin' iron" about his waist and -disappeared into the night. - -At that same hour a second plane, all silver and white, circled over a -stretch of water black as night, then, graceful as a sea gull, sank to -rest. - -The body of water was Duncan's Bay. Two miles long, one quarter as wide, -with trees growing to the very edge of its lapping waters and never so -much as an abandoned shack standing beside it, this bay at all seasons of -the year is a dark and lonesome spot as night falls across the world. - -Night was here. So too were the chill winds of November. But the single -occupant of the plane appeared to give little heed to all this. Unfolding -a curious sort of collapsible rubber boat, he filled it with air, took a -short paddle from his fusilage, stepped into the rubber affair and -paddled ashore. - -The spot upon which he landed had perhaps at one time been a barren -stretch of sand. Overgrown now with tangled grass and low bushes, it -forms a perfect camping ground. Such it has been for countless -generations. From this spot ten thousand camp fires have sent their -golden gleams across the black waters of Duncan's Bay. Each in turn has -faded into the darkness of night. Had this strange visitor, a slender -person in a long black coat, cared for such things, he might have dug -beneath his very feet and found there charcoal and half burned bones from -fires that had gleamed a hundred, perhaps two hundred years ago. For, -since Isle Royale lifted its rocky head from out the deep and took on a -cap of green, this spot has been the camping place of man. - -The stranger did not dig. He stood there long as if in silent -contemplation. - -He might have fished, for in these very waters such great northern pikes -(wolves of all fresh water seas) as are not found elsewhere play among -the wavering weeds. Had he cared to wait for dawn, then had he put out -across the narrow bay to set a silver spoon gleaming through the black -waters, he might have experienced such a thrill as is seldom accorded a -fisherman. - -He did not wait for dawn. Instead, by the gleam of a small flashlight he -studied a slip of paper for a moment; then turning abruptly about, lost -himself in the dense brush that lines the slope of a high ridge just back -of this narrow clearing. - -Duncan's Bay is separated from Tobin's Harbor--which, as you will recall, -was the landing place of first the kidnapers' plane and after that Drew -Lane's red racer--by a tall and narrow ridge of rocks heavily overgrown -with brush. - -A half hour after this tall person from the silver plane vanished from -the camping grounds of Duncan's Bay, a strange apparition might have been -seen at the very crest of the ridge. - -At this spot, known as Lookout Louise, one may stand at a point some -hundreds of feet above the water level and look down upon the dark and -somber bay that lies below. On this particular night, viewed from this -height, the silver plane seemed a giant sea gull with wings outspread. - -But the apparition--he wore a long flowing robe of filmy white. As the -moon came out to gleam upon him, his head appeared as white as his robe. -And his body was bones, just gleaming white bones, or so it would have -seemed had some one been there to look. There was no one. - -For one full moment he stood gazing down at the black waters and the -silver plane. Then, turning slowly about, he gave utterance to a low, -hollow chuckle as weird as the song of the wind in the pines of a -churchyard at midnight. Then, like the phantom he seemed, he dropped away -into the shadows that lay above Tobin's Harbor where at that very moment -the fate of Drew Lane, Johnny Thompson and the kidnapers swung -uncertainly in the balance. And even as this strange apparition vanished, -he appeared to gallop. - - - - - Chapter XXVIII - THE LIGHT THAT FAILED - - -"Red! Red! The light is gone!" Berley Todd's voice rang with tragedy. - -She had endured much that night, had this little daughter of the rich. -She had rowed until she felt herself near to exhaustion when of a sudden -she had discovered that they were pursued. Getting her second wind, she -had rowed as she had never dreamed any one could row. She had dodged -bullets and battled a storm. Now the light from Passage Island that had -guided them all the way had failed. It was too much. - -"Red! The light is gone!" - -Somewhere in the dark, waves were dashing against rocks. The roar of it -filled her ears. Still their boat, tossed about, moved forward. - -"We must row." Three words escaped Red's tight set lips; no more. - -The roar of waters sounded louder. The boy changed their course. They -glided from danger. Now and then the girl caught the gleam of a white-cap -when with the hiss of a sea serpent it broke close beside them. - -Then of a sudden the boy put all the strength of his splendid arms into a -dozen titanic strokes. They rose to the crest of a wave; another, yet -another and then as if by magic they glided out upon a sea of glass. - -The girl caught her breath. What was it? Had she fallen asleep? Was she -dreaming? - -No, no. As if by pre-arrangement, the moon came out to shine upon a scene -of matchless beauty. A harbor, walled in on every side by steep, rocky -cliffs, lay about them. - -"This," said Red Rodgers, with a touch of the dramatic in his voice, "is -the harbor on Passage Island. We are safe!" - -Sinking down to a place in the prow, the girl allowed her head to drop -into her hands while she strove in vain to drive from her senses the -ceaseless roar of the beating surf. - -After a time she lifted her head to admit into her consciousness certain -vital facts. Her feet were ankle deep in water, and had been for an hour; -yet she had not known it. Her hands were blistered. Her arms ached. Red -had found a flashlight and had switched it on. They were nearing a shore. -On the shore was a narrow dock and a boathouse. All this came to her as -if she were a very small child reading it from a book. - -"This harbor," Red spoke at last, "is about a mile from the lighthouse. -There is no safe landing there for such a night. The light is not out. We -were passing along close to a rocky wall that hid the light. - -"There is a trail from this place to the lighthouse. And at the -lighthouse there is a fire and blankets, food and good cheer." - -"Food and good cheer," the girl repeated after him as in a dream. "Then -we will go there." - -They did go there, though the girl will not recall the long stretch of -pasture-like land over which they passed, nor the ridge they scaled to -descend on the other side and to catch again the blinking rays of that -cheering light. She will not recall all this because she walked as one in -a dream. - -At the lighthouse, besides two men, there was a woman, the head keeper's -sister. To her care Berley Todd was entrusted. When she had wrapped her -in hot blankets and poured steaming broth down her throat, she bundled -her off to bed where for long hours Berley dreamed of kidnapers, wild -waves and cracking guns. - -The Red Rover did not sleep. Never more awake in his life, he found -himself in a position to act; and the Red Rover was born for action -alone. For days his immediate future, the possibility of getting back to -Old Midway in the great game, his very life itself, had hung in the -balance. Now the balance had swung down. Fate had given him a break. - -As he stood outside the lighthouse, his mind still in a whirl, a short -chubby man with a beaming sort of smile approached him. - -"I am Pierre Gagnon. And you," he beamed afresh, "are the great Red -Rover." - -"That's what they call me," Red said quietly. "But that doesn't matter. -Only one thing truly matters. How am I to get back to the city in time -for that game? - -"You see--" He was growing eager now; all the dull feeling of weariness -had left him. He yearned for battle. "You see, a lot depends on that -game. Not--not for me, but for others. There's the school, great Old -Midway! It gave me a chance. Took me out of the steel mill and taught me -the things I needed most to know. - -"Then there's the Grand Old Man, our coach. The cleanest sportsman the -world has ever known. And this is his last year, his last game. That game -must be won! - -"There's the public, too. They're hoping against hope. They suppose that -I'll be there. They bought tickets to help out a great cause. They should -get a show for their money. - -"So you see," he smiled grimly, "it's up to us, just you and me. -To-morrow at two p. m. the team lines up. Seventy thousand people will be -crying for victory. You should see it, Pierre, you really should! It's -inspiring!" - -"You'll go in an airplane," said Pierre. "You must. There can be no other -way. We have here a radio telephone. We can speak with Detroit, Chicago, -any big city of the midwest. To-day there are airplanes everywhere. It -will be easy. Come! We will send out the call." - -"The call. Wait!" Once again the boy's mind was in a whirl. "The call." -It would be heard everywhere. Men would rush to newspaper offices to sell -the story. "_The Red Rover found!_" would be flashed across the country. -The radio, the press, and after that every man, woman and child would -take up the cry: "_The Red Rover has been found!_" He thrilled at the -thought, thrilled to the very center of his being. But did he want this? -A voice deep within his very soul whispered: "No." - -"Wait!" His hand was on the arm of the genial lighthouse keeper. "Wait -for a time, at least." - -He recalled the sound of drumming motors that had struck his ears out -there while he and the girl still tossed upon the waters. "There may be -some other way," he told himself. "No brass bands for me. If only I can -slip back to the city unheralded; if I could take my place behind the -line when the great moment comes; if only I could do that without even -the Grand Old Man knowing! Oh, boy!" - -Once again he murmured, "Wait." - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - SILENT NIGHT - - -It would seem that Red Rodgers' reasons for wishing to rejoin his team -were all that one might ask; yet at the very moment he stood there -talking with the chubby lighthouse keeper, Drew Lane was telling Johnny -Thompson of reasons that to him seemed tremendously important. These -reasons had to do with the cause of the kidnaping. Who would not find -this a subject of absorbing interest? - -Drew Lane possessed an all but superhuman power of finding his way about -in the dark. Though he had never before seen Isle Royale, he not only was -able to land safely in the channel known as Rock Harbor, but once ashore, -he experienced little difficulty in making his way across the ridge to -the other channel that lay on the opposite side. - -"This," he said to Johnny as they at last came out upon a short boat -landing, "is Tobin's Harbor. At the back of this harbor the powerful -amphibian that carried the Red Rover to Isle Royale lies at anchor. Thus -far we are in luck. If the Red Rover is still in their midst we shall be -in greater luck. And if we succeed in rescuing him without having our -much treasured heads blown off, ours will be the greatest luck in all the -world." - -"But whose plane is that amphibian?" Johnny could no longer suppress a -question. - -"You have a right to know." Drew Lane's tone was serious. "It's quite a -story. We have some distance to go. Here's a boat beside the landing. -Probably chained up, but we'll break her loose. Suppose we get her off? -Then you can row while I talk." - -"O.K. Let's go." - -The padlock that held the boat was a cheap one. Two knocks with a rock -opened it as though it were a clam shell. - -Ed, the scout, crouching with his dog at the top of the ridge, heard -those blows, but wisdom counseled no interference. - -Only when the boat was gone did he descend the hill. After skirting the -shore for a short distance, he proceeded to drag a light canoe from the -center of a clump of bushes where it stood on end, safely concealed. In -this, by cutting off at an angle, he was able to keep Drew Lane and -Johnny Thompson within striking distance without himself being observed. -Did he mean to strike? Perhaps he could not have answered this question -himself. - -"It's a curious business." Drew spoke in low tones, as Johnny with long, -strong strokes drove the light rowboat along. "If you hadn't been in on -it perhaps we would have gotten nowhere. You had all the luck." - -"I?" Johnny lost a stroke. - -"Luck no end!" Drew rumbled. "Remember the jimmy bar? The invisible -footprint? The shavings? Sure you do. They were red hot clues that led us -straight to the spot." - -"Then--then it was Angelo, the--the flower shop keeper?" Johnny lost two -strokes. - -"It was Angelo." - -For a time after that there was silence. This silence was broken by -Johnny. His voice was husky. "I only feel bad for the boy, young Angelo. -He is a fine young chap. And he has had everything--big car, speed -boat--going to college. Everything. And now--" - -"Now his father is going to be broke. We are here to arrange all that. We -must not fail. To-night Angelo Piccalo is rich. He believes he is safe, -that his riches are safe. To-morrow night at this hour, if our plans work -out, he will be broke, broke and in prison. - -"Too many times--" Drew's voice was tense with pent-up emotion. "Too many -times we go out and get a rich crook and he is able to buy his freedom, -by corrupting a judge or a jury with the very money he stole from honest -men. This time there shall be no chance for this; not a chance. We-- - -"Look!" His voice suddenly fell to a hoarse whisper. "Look! Over yonder -is the light of a camp fire. Must be their camp, the kidnapers' camp. - -"Here!" Drew bent over, then straightened up to thrust a thing of cold -steel into Johnny's hand. "Put this in your pocket. And this." - -Johnny obeyed. - -"Don't use 'em unless you have to." The young detective's tone was low -and tense. "But if you have to, shoot often and straight. It's a tough -bunch. Don't know how many, but plenty, I'm afraid. - -"As for the boy, Angelo," his tone changed, "don't worry too much about -him. He'll have to get along without his car and speed boat all right. -But then there are plenty of people who'll tell you big cars and speed -boats do a boy more harm than good. Gives them false notions of life; -that's what they'd tell you. I don't know much about that. An old police -flivver with, like as not, a share of bullets waiting at the end of the -road--that's as far as I ever got. - -"But one thing I _do_ know." He sat up straight and stiff. "Crooked -dollars never did any one any real good. And every dollar Angelo Piccalo -spent on that boy was crooked. Flowers! That flower shop was only a -blind." - -"It seems strange," Johnny mused, pulling hard at the oars. "Angelo is an -artist at heart. He can make flowers talk. He loves music, and the best -in pictures. Why should such a man be a crook?" - -"A man's love of honesty has-- - -"Look, Johnny! Swing a little more to the left. We'll keep well out. Then -when we've passed their camp we'll swing in. They're in a sort of -clearing. Trees beyond them. Plenty of chance to slip up. They'll not see -us out here on the water. The moon is low yet." - -Again for a time there was silence, such silence as one finds only on a -calm bay of Isle Royale at night. Now came from afar the sharp -yip-yip-yip of a bush wolf. And now, from the opposite shore of the bay -they caught the faint plash-plash of a moose swimming along the shore. Or -was it a boat? Johnny's heart skipped a beat. - -"Can't see us. Works both ways. We can't see them. Might slip up on us. -Then--" - -"This artist business," Drew broke in with a hoarse whisper. "Curious -thing. A man can be a fine musician or a painter, and still be a crook. -They've got some fine artists in Sing Sing. Art and conscience have no -connection, it seems. The only thing that saves a fellow from being a -crook is a desire deep down in his heart to be honest, to do right by all -men." - -Drew lapsed into silence. There were many things Johnny wished to know. -How was it that Drew felt so sure he was on the right track? What fresh -evidence had he uncovered? How much had his own discoveries helped to -bring things about? But this, he knew, was no time for questions. They -were nearing a camp. Was it the enemies' camp? Who could doubt it? The -big amphibian could not be a quarter of a mile from that camp. - -So in that silence, broken only by the cries of wild things in the night, -he rowed on. - -And after them, in utter silence, there came a canoe. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - HOLLOW CHUCKLES - - -On a moose trail that leads down the steep slope of the ridge lying -between Duncan's Bay and Tobin's Harbor a flashlight gleamed. Once, -twice, and yet again Johnny Thompson saw that light flashing among the -trees high up and far away, and he wondered a long wonder. He said -nothing to Drew Lane. The time had come for silence and action. Bending -low, he drove their boat forward at increased speed. - -Meanwhile the light on the slope blinked on and off, was lost among the -shadows of tall spruce trees, came out into the open, vanished behind -overhanging rocks, then was lost to view altogether as it reached lower -levels where giant spruce trees, a primeval forest, cast deep shadows -over a small world as dark as a tomb. - -"That light," Johnny told himself, "is no witch light of the night. Some -one is coming down the ridge. Wonder who? And why? Drew said this island -was practically uninhabited in winter. Looks as if the ghost of every -Indian, explorer or trader who ever visited these shores has returned -to-night. - -"Ghosts," he whispered to himself, "surely are queer!" He was thinking of -the Galloping Ghost. - -"Now we'll swing in." It was Drew who broke this curious chain of -thoughts. - -Fifteen minutes more of silent rowing and their boat touched without a -sound on a mossy shore. - -"Good!" Drew breathed. "Bushes here. We can hide the boat. May need it in -case--" - -He did not finish, but Johnny caught the meaning--in case the men they -were after were too strong for them. He had visions of Drew stumbling -through the brush carrying his bullet-riddled body. It was not a pleasing -vision. He put it out of his mind. - -And indeed there was need of this. There was little or no trail on this -side of the channel. Here a moose had crowded his way through the brush; -and here, becoming discouraged, he had left the next comer to make the -best of things and had taken to the water. - -There was need for extreme caution. The snapping of a twig, the sudden -rush of a moose disturbed in the night, would betray their presence. - -"About half the way," Drew breathed at last. - -A stretch of barren, sloping rocks greeted their eyes. - -"Skirt it." - -They crept across in the shadows. - -"Must be nearly there. Get ready." Drew was calm. Though little more than -a boy, he was a seasoned trooper. - -"There! There's a gleam of light!" Johnny gripped his arm. - -"Just around this next clump of pines we'll get a clear view. And then--" - -They were around those pines before Johnny in his suspense breathed -twice. - -"Now! You ready?" Drew squared his shoulders. - -"Now then, you fellows!" His voice sounded out strangely in the night. -"We got you covered. Reach for the stars!" - -There was a sound of sudden commotion by the camp fire. Three figures -leaped into view. But they were not "reaching for the stars." Their hands -hung awkwardly at their sides. - -"Now what--" Drew all but dropped his gun. - -"That's not the bunch we're after," he said in a low tone aside to -Johnny. "Got to keep 'em comin' though. Got guns. May shoot us without -knowing what it's all about. - -"As you are!" he commanded sharply. "One move, and out goes your light." - -The men did not move. Instead, as Drew approached them slowly, they stood -blinking into his flashlight. - -Drew took in the scene at a glance. The camp had been made on a shelving -rock. A little back from the fire lay the hind quarters of a moose. - -"Great luck!" he thought to himself. "Poachers. Not allowed to kill moose -on this island." - -"Honest, mister," it was a grown boy who spoke at last, "we only kill -what we got to have to eat. We can't starve." - -"Ya, we do," put in a heavy-set man with ham-like hands. - -"We-l-l--" Drew was thinking fast. "I'm an officer of the law. I could -take you all right. But I'm after bigger game. There are kidnapers on -this island. Know that?" He turned to the boy of the group. - -"No, I-- There's some queer ones back there at Baley's cabin. We seen -'em. Sort of black. But not niggers, I don't think." - -"They're the ones. How'd you like to help catch them?" - -"We--" The boy stared. Then of a sudden he started talking rapidly in a -strange language. His two beefy companions listened with popping eyes. - -"They'll do it, all right," Drew whispered to Johnny. "Got to! Between -the devil and the deep blue sea, they are. Go to jail for poaching or -help catch crooks. What would you do?" - -"We'll go," the strange boy said simply. - -"Ya. We do," one of the men agreed. - -"Good! Now we are five," Drew exulted. "Not a bad lot," he mumbled to -Johnny. "Just ignorant and hungry. Good shots, too, I'll bet on that." - -Johnny took a long breath. All that suspense, and the kidnapers still -some distance away! He felt very much like an empty sack. But he must -carry on. Shaking himself, he set his teeth hard. "All right, I'm ready." - -Once again they plunged into the night. Now they were five men and two -boats. - -And all the while the mysterious flashlight was making its way along the -shore, coming from the opposite direction toward Baley's cabin which -might, Johnny believed, be the scene of a bloody battle within the hour. - -This time, after a careful study of the situation, Drew decided that the -journey should be made entirely by water. The island was narrow, the boy -moose hunter explained. A dock virtually formed a door step to the cabin. -One had but to reach that dock, and he was at the cabin. - -"You fellows lead the way," Drew commanded. "Not too fast. Watch your -oars. Not a creak from them. Keep your oarlocks damp. And don't talk! Not -a whisper! If these men get the drop on you, whang! You're gone!" - -"Ya. We do," the older of the men agreed hastily. Johnny noticed that his -knees were shaking. - -"Good shock troops," was his mental comment. "No good for a real scrap." - -A half hour of breathless suspense, and they were gliding along the -island's short shore line, nearing the dock. - -"Now!" Drew had driven their boat alongside the others. "You fellows fall -back. We'll take the lead. Wherever we go, you follow close!" - -They caught this whispered command, fell back, then followed on. - -Drew had driven their boat to the very side of the dock, and was in the -act of creeping toward the prow, when he paused to hiss: - -"Listen!" - -No need for this command. Johnny's keen ears had caught it, the most -unearthly sound heard on land or sea--a hollow chuckle that fairly dried -the marrow in his bones. - -"Wha-what is it?" he whispered. - -"Who knows?" Drew was creeping forward once more. - -"Light in the cabin," came back to Johnny faintly. "They're there all -right. We'll creep up on 'em. Get the drop if we can. We--" - -"Listen!" - -Again came that hollow chuckle. "As if it came from an empty cabin." -Johnny shuddered. - -"All set. Come on." Hollow chuckles meant little to Drew Lane. - -Forgetting the moose hunters at their backs, they crept across the short -stretch of planking that led to the cabin door. - -Johnny thought he heard his heart's wild beating. Some creature, small -and very fast, shot across the way before them. It was with the utmost -difficulty that he kept his lips sealed. - -"Now!" Drew's hand was on the knob. "I'll throw the door open. You cover -'em. Shoot if they make a false move. Kidnapers have little claim on -life." - -"If the door is--" - -Johnny did not finish. The door was open. He found himself standing -beside Drew in the dark; the candle light of the room was gone. Two bulky -figures stood before them. On the table something bright gleamed. - -"Guns!" he told himself. - -Astonishment all but overcame him as he realized that their presence was -not even suspected. Then men were standing with their backs to them. - -It took but one glance at the window in the opposite wall to discover the -cause of this unheard-of suspense. Outside the window was a grinning, -gleaming skull. And even as Johnny saw it there came again that unearthly -chuckle. - -Quite as paralyzed as those before him, Johnny stood open-mouthed, -staring. - -It was Drew Lane who broke the spell. "All right there!" His tone was -smooth and cold as ice. "You, Tony Piccalo, and you, Spike O'Connor! Just -reach for the sky! And if you can't get it, just keep on reaching!" - -With one hand he held his own automatic, with the other he was removing -the gangsters' weapons to his own pockets. - -The men whirled about. For a second silence too deep for words hung over -the place. - -"Oh, all right," one of the men grumbled. "You got us. We don't fight -spooks. That was the Galloping Ghost." - -"I don't believe in ghosts." Drew switched on his flashlight. "Now, then, -you fellows sit right down there in the corner, and I'll tell you what we -want you for, and why. - -"No, I won't." His voice changed as his eyes roved the room. "Where's the -Red Rover and that girl, Berley Todd? Come, now! Quick! Where are they?" -The steel in his gun was not harder than the ring in his voice. - -"Honest--" The man known as Spike O'Connor, a bad one according to his -own previous estimation, was shaking. "Honest, we don't know." - -"Don't know?" Drew's finger trembled at the trigger. - -"Fact!" the other man put in hastily. "Got away from us, they did, more'n -three days ago. We sent out a man to look for them. He didn't come back. -We sent out two more. They didn't come back. I tell you, this island gets -'em! Ghosts and all that." The way this bad man trembled was good to see. - -"Perhaps I might be able to help you," came from the doorway. Johnny -whirled about to find himself staring into a pair of friendly eyes that -gleamed beneath a ten-gallon hat. Ed, the scout, had caught up with them -at last. - -"They've been with me until to-night, the Red Rover and Berley Todd -have." The scout advanced to the center of the room. "Now unless that -squall we had an hour or two ago took 'em out to sea, they should be on -Passage Island where there are civilized human beings." - -"In that case," said Drew, spinning about, "we've got to fly over to -Passage Island. And that on the double quick! Can't let this get out. - -"Where is this Passage Island?" he demanded of the scout. "Can a fellow -land there in a sea plane?" - -"Four miles off Blake's Point. Land on the lee side all right." - -"Then we're off." - -"Here, Johnny, slip these on 'em." He dangled two pairs of handcuffs. -"It'll be a little crowded with four of us in the red racer, but we'll -make it. We--" - -He broke off to stare at the doorway. Standing there was a very tall and -very thin young man in a tight-fitting suit. - -"Jimmie Drury!" he exclaimed. "How'd you come here?" - -"Walked, old son. Walked. How'd you suppose?" Jimmie Drury, reporter for -the News, grinned from ear to ear. "Worth it, too! Grand story. Good old -scoop!" - -"Good enough story," Drew grumbled. "But you'll not shoot it till I tell -you when. I'll tell you about that later. - -"We're off for Passage Island," he grinned. "You'll walk there, too, I -suppose; just four miles of Lake Superior. And they tell me Superior -never gives up her dead." - -"I'll be there, never fear!" Jimmie laughed. "Sooner than you'd think! -Before you arrive, perhaps. Who knows?" - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - "PLAY BY PLAY" - - -At one o'clock the next afternoon the cement seats of Soldiers' Field, -where seventy thousand spectators were to witness a football classic of -unparalleled interest, began filling up. The place had been sold out for -ten days. Even before the Red Rover vanished every ticket was gone. There -were several reasons for this. It was a charity game; the entire net -proceeds of the game were to be expended on the city's needy. It was the -great game of the year. The rivalry between Old Midway and Northern had -ever been keen, never keener than now, for this game was to decide the -championship of the conference. The Red Rover was to play, and it had -been rumored abroad that this would be his last game, that he would not -return to his squad in the following autumn. It was to be the Old Midway -coach's last game. He had definitely retired. And those who loved the -Grand Old Man of football were legion. - -So here they were gathering early. Some coming from afar had arrived -early. Some, fearing that the place had been oversold, were hastening to -secure their seats. - -All morning there had been a whisper abroad. "The Red Rover will play -to-day." Thus the whisper ran. One heard it on the street corner, behind -the counters in department stores, in the corner cigar store. When the -over-curious rang up a newspaper office they were greeted by a curt -denial. "We know nothing of it. Wish we did!" Bang! went the receiver. -The phones of Old Midway's office rang constantly. "No! No! No!" the -patient clerks repeated over and over. "He has not returned to Old -Midway." - -So over that great city expectancy hung like a thin cloud. And the early -arrivals on the field whispered: - -"Will he be here?" - - * * * * * * * * - -In the office beside the lighthouse on far away Passage Island sat Drew -Lane and Johnny Thompson. Whatever else happened, they would not see the -game. There were two others who would not see that game. Tony Piccalo and -Spike O'Connor sat moodily in the far corner. - -"It's some time before the game," Drew commented dryly, casting a -significant glance at a radio that stood against the wall. "Just about -time for a little story. You'll be interested in this." He turned to -Johnny. "You've guessed at a part of it. Now it all may be told. - -"You fellows--" He addressed himself to the others. "You fellows are not -kidnapers by profession. Give the devil his dues. But for all that, the -fellow who stoops to kidnaping in order that he may gain an end just once -is lost, or should be. It's the lowest crime on the docket, the least -romantic, the most cowardly. - -"You," his voice rose, "are professional gamblers, and that rates you -pretty low, too." - -He turned to Johnny. "You see, what happened was this. These fellows, -with Tony's brother, Angelo, have been operating a gambling den beneath -Angelo's flower shop for a long time. Race track stuff, baseball pools -and all that. Somehow we didn't get next to them until you found that -jimmy bar that lifted the Red Rover's window, and the shoe that made the -invisible footprint was brought in by the Rat. Then we began to suspect -something. - -"When you brought in that batch of shavings from Angelo's favorite pocket -knife and we found they matched those made near the scene of the -kidnaping; when you told us about being thrown from that room beneath the -flower shop, we knew we were on the way." - -The pair of culprits sat listening in stolid silence. Johnny heaved a -sigh. So he had been useful in this search. He was glad. - -"We found out in no time at all," Drew went on, "that these birds had -organized a football pool. They were betting on a grand scale on to-day's -game, giving all manner of odds. And why not? You cowards!" He shot a -look at the corner of the room. "You knew all the time that you meant to -kidnap the Red Rover and hide him on Isle Royale until the game was over. - -"The game." His voice dropped. "The game has not yet started. The -kick-off is at two o'clock. And such a game as it will be! - -"You see," he turned again to Johnny, "when we knew what you had -discovered, the rest was easy. Tony, here, is a licensed pilot and owns -that big amphibian. Owns it! Strange what some men will do to get more -money when they are already rich! But crooked money calls for more and -more, always more and more. That's why a crooked dollar is such a -terrible thing to possess. - -"Since Tony had that plane and he had been at Isle Royale last summer, as -young Angelo told you, as soon as we saw that clipping about the -mysterious plane over Isle Royale, we knew just where to go. - -"You know the rest." He smiled at Johnny. "How we found them and got -them, how we flew here in the red racer just in time to prevent the -broadcasting of our great discovery. - -"What you don't know, and what these fellows don't exactly know," his -eyes snapped, "is what is about to happen down there in the city. - -"There'll be a football game played. Right! The Red Rover will play. -He'll win! - -"And here comes the kidnapers' reward. Some crooks get to jail rich. They -beat the rap or go free in two years, still rich. None of that here!" - -He turned once more to the corner. "You fellows, you and your associates -have bet your last dollar on the team that was to defeat Old Midway -because of your crookedness. We know where all that money is stored. That -team will not win. My pal, Tom Howe, and plenty more cops are ready to -see that every dollar you wagered is paid. And -then--you--will--be--broke!" - -A groan came from the corner. - -"You think that's too tough!" Drew leaped to his feet. "It's not! Nothing -is too bad for a kidnaper. - -"And you, Tony!" He pointed a finger. "You kidnaped that Berley Todd, a -defenseless girl, because you could, and because you thought you could -pull down twenty extra grand for yourself. - -"She'll be cheering on the side lines." He laughed a happy laugh. "That -little girl will be cheering for the Red Rover, the best sport that ever -lived. And you fellows are going to sit right in this room, getting the -radio report and hearing yourselves go broke play by play. _Play by -Play!_" - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII - "70,000 WITNESSES" - - -As Johnny listened to Drew Lane's rapid-fire report of events and their -outcomes, he realized that he had played no small part in the breaking up -of a notorious band of gamblers and the thwarting of their plans. - -"More luck than skill on my part," he whispered to himself. - -Just then a thought struck him with the force of a blow. What if the -gamblers' plans had not been thwarted after all? Had Drew Lane talked too -soon? How could they know that the Red Rover had reached the city safely? -Hour by hour, with monotonous regularity the radio reported: "Still -missing." Was he still missing? Would he fail to appear when the team -lined up for the kick-off? - -"We'll know that soon enough." He glanced at the clock on the wall. -"Twenty minutes more, and then--" He took a long breath. - -"It means so much!" He all but prayed. - -Then again doubt assailed him. Suppose the Red Rover _had_ reached the -city; suppose he did line up with his team? He had been away from -practice for days; had missed all the elaborate plans made for this game -of games. He had not lived as players live who are training for a major -event. "And every one feels that if he were only there the game would be -won before the kick-off!" He fairly groaned. - -Once again he glanced at the clock. "Fifteen minutes to go." - -With nervous fingers he snapped on the radio. - -"Here we are," the announcer was saying. "The seats are rapidly filling -up. The aisles are packed. What a picture! Gay sport costumes; bright -banners; pennants waving; bands playing. Listen!" - -Out from the radio came the stirring notes of a march. - -"There! There!" the announcer shouted into the microphone. "They're -coming out now. The players are coming on the field. There's Old Midway. -Number twenty-one, Masters, the giant fullback; eighteen, Dwyer, right -half." - -Johnny caught his breath. Was it known by now? Would Red come upon the -field? His number was twenty. Would he hear it? - -"Twenty-eight, Sullivan, the slim quarterback," the announcer recited. -"Seventeen, Clarke, the center; and now Johnson, the left half, who as -you know, replaces the famous All-American star, Red Rodgers." - -Johnny heard no more. His hopes sank. From the corner came an exultant -whisper. - -But the whisper came too soon. Jimmie Drury, the slender reporter from -the News, had carried the Red Rover and his diminutive companion, Berley -Todd, speedily and safely from the enchanted isle back to the city. After -landing in an open field close to the city, they tramped into the suburbs -and registered under assumed names at a small hotel. Jimmie made no -effort to get in touch with his paper. In his pocket he carried a story -that would have made the first page in every newspaper of the land. "The -Red Rover has been found. He is safe. He will play." He could see it -across the page in glaring letters. - -The story was not told. Jimmie was loyal, loyal to the core. Drew Lane -had told him what to do. He would do it, cost what it might. - -"These men," Drew had said sternly, "must not know. They must pay in full -for their greed and for their cowardly deeds." - -"And they shall pay!" Jimmie had agreed. So it came about that just as -the ball was being placed for the kick, a youth whose shining new suit -bore the number twenty came trotting out to say a word to the referee, -then to tap number fourteen on the back and to mumble apologetically: - -"Sorry, Johnson. Better luck next time!" - -It was the Red Rover. - -From the vast throng there came a sound like the wind flowing through the -tops of a thousand trees. They had seen that number. Were they to believe -their eyes? - -The sigh, the whisper, grew to a shout. Then the sons and daughters of -Old Midway leaped to their feet and such a cheer rent the air as was -echoed back again and again by the distant skyscrapers. - -Hearing this, Red Rodgers felt a chill rise up his spine. They had seen -him. They expected so much. - -"And if I lose," he murmured low, "if I lose!" - -He set his teeth hard. He could not, he must not lose! - -On far away Passage Island Johnny Thompson and Drew Lane heard the shout -that, growing in volume, came welling forth from the radio like the -increasing roar of a raging sea. They heard it and understood. And from -the corner where the kidnapers sat there came again a low groan. - -At this moment Johnny was tempted to feel sorry for these men who had -lost so much. "And yet," he told himself, "a week ago they were riding in -powerful cars purchased by crooked money. They wore diamonds. Nothing was -too good for their ladies; furs, silks, jewels. They denied themselves -nothing. Then, that they might win still greater wealth, they kidnaped a -boy who had nothing, who was working his way through college. - -"At the same time they snatched a defenseless girl. These they would have -murdered had it served their purpose. They know no mercy. They deserve -none. They--" - -"Look!" came the announcer's shout from the radio. "Look! There's the Red -Rover! Can you beat that? You can't even tie it! He was kidnaped, as you -know, several days ago. The country has been gone over with a fine-tooth -comb. They couldn't find him. Every detective in the country was on the -trail of the abductors. And now he walks calmly out on the field to take -his place. It can't be the Red Rover. It must be his ghost. And yet--yes, -it is! - -"Listen to that crowd roar! They're standing up. All over the stadium -they're on their feet. Even Northern is applauding. Good sports! What a -game this is going to be!" - -And it was; such a game as one witnesses but once in a lifetime. And yet, -as Drew Lane and Johnny Thompson sat there in that room on Passage -Island, looking away now and then to the tossing waters of Lake Superior, -listening always with all their ears, they sank lower and lower in their -chairs. Something seemed to be wrong. The Red Rover could not get going. -Midway's hopes had been centered on him. The team had been built around -him. A strong offensive team, able to charge the line, to block and to -run; yet always as he followed through the opening made for him, some one -from the opposing team broke through and downed him. Sometimes they -smeared him for a loss. - -Red could not understand this himself. Had the opposing players schooled -themselves so thoroughly in defensive tactics that no man could go -through for a touchdown? In the days away from his team had he grown -soft? He hated those kidnapers with a bitter hate; was tempted even to -hate old Ed, the scout, Berley Todd and Drew Lane. - -"Ah, no!" he grumbled to himself once, as he lay sprawled upon the turf -during "time out." "'The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars but in -ourselves that we are underlings.' I'll blame no other one than myself. -I'm not so good. But this once I must win. I must! I _must_!" - -But could he? On the defense his team acquitted itself well. During the -first half not a touchdown was made on either side. - -Then, at the very beginning of the second half catastrophe befell them. -Midway kicked off. Northern carried the ball to Midway's forty-yard line. -A forward pass was completed, a second following in quick succession. One -mad plunge, and Northern went over for a touchdown. Their fans went mad. -The kick for an extra point was successful. The score stood Northern 7. -Midway 0. - -Gloom, deep and ominous, settled down upon the room out there on far away -Passage Island. Gloom, but not for all. From the corner came in a loud -whisper: - -"Tony. We are going broke play by play. Just like he said, play by play." -This was followed by a hoarse chuckle that made Johnny's blood boil. If -Drew Lane heard it he did not show it by so much as the flicker of an -eyelash. - -"Does he believe that the Red Rover can still go through to victory?" -Johnny asked himself. - -Then, as if what appeared almost sure defeat were not enough, at the -middle of the third quarter one more terrible thing happened. - -To Drew and Johnny it appeared all the more terrible since, receiving it -on the radio, they could but half understand what was going on. "Now play -will be resumed," the announcer droned. "The men are taking their -positions. Northern has the ball on their own forty-five yard line. - -"The crowd is on its toes. Seventy thousand people. Bright blankets, -fluttering flags. Plenty of color out here. Plenty of noise. - -"Marvelous day. Clear as glass. Not a cloud. Snappy. Just the kind of day -that makes them fight. - -"Now they're lined up. Now-- - -"Oh! Oh!" There came a sudden change in the announcer's voice. -"Something's happening down there. A player comes racing onto the field. -He's leaping at some one. Looks like the Red Rover. It _is_ the Red -Rover! What do you make of that? Two men of Old Midway fighting it out -before seventy thousand witnesses! - -"Now a tall youth in black leaps in. They're piling up. What a scrap!" - -In the corner of a room up there on Passage Island Tony and Spike stirred -uneasily. Johnny leaned far forward as if he would drag more words from -the radio. But for a time it was still. Deep silence fell in the room. -Drew Lane, keeping a wary eye on his prisoners, waited for more. - -The thing that had happened there on Soldiers' Field was scarcely to be -credited. Tom Howe, who had appointed himself bodyguard for the Red -Rover, had been seated on the bench near the door leading from Old -Midway's dressing rooms. A youth in a brand new uniform had walked out -from that door, had stood quite still for a moment, studying the field. - -"Looking for some one," Tom told himself. Then he got a good look at the -man's face, and caught his breath. This fellow seemed old for an -under-graduate. There was about that face a suggestion of long nights and -dissipation such as one does not see topping a varsity football uniform. - -"Looks like a tin horn gambler!" Tom rose slowly to his feet. - -Next instant the stranger went trotting toward the field. It was a -nervous trot. Nothing nervous about the man that followed him, Tom Howe. - -Of a sudden, as he neared the group of players, the man in the football -suit, flashing a knife, leaped at Red Rodgers. - -Tom Howe was light and quick. With a panther-like leap he was upon the -mysterious assassin. - -Down they went. Rolling over and over, they strove for possession of the -knife. Now Tom had it. Now it was wrenched from his grasp. Now he gripped -the other's wrist. He was fighting with the power of desperation, this -stranger. Prison bars yawned for him. He knew prison. He had been there. - -Now by sheer strength he forced Tom's arm back until the point of the -knife was within an inch of Tom's good right eye. - -"Let me go!" hissed the dark assassin. - -"Never!" Tom set his teeth hard. - -All this happened in the space of seconds. Then a terrific blow from the -right sent the dark stranger rolling over the earth. His knife went -spinning high in the air. - -The Red Rover had seen. He had understood. He had struck. - -Leaping once more upon the stranger, Tom dragged him to his feet. "You -would!" he hissed. "One more of those 'seventy thousand witnesses' -stunts. But it don't go. The hoosegow for you!" - -He led him from the field. - -Just how much of all this the vast throng understood would be hard to -say. - -All that Drew and Johnny got over the radio was a brief account of a more -or less mysterious fight on the gridiron. They were shrewd enough to -understand that an attempt had been made upon the Red Rover's life and -that quick-witted Tom Howe had saved the day. - -"Saved!" Johnny breathed. "Saved! But the score is still 7 to 0. Wonder -how a football player behaves after an attempt has been made upon his -life." He was to see. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII - THE FLEA FLICKER - - -"Paying me a compliment," Red grumbled to himself, as the third quarter -ended with no success. "Tried to kill me, that tough egg sent by Angelo -and his gang. As if I'd do them any harm playing football!" He was -thoroughly disgusted with himself. What was the trouble? He could not get -going, that was all. And the game was slipping away, with one more -quarter to play. - -The fourth quarter began as the third had ended, with the two teams -driving one another back and forth across the field. Eleven precious -minutes of play passed into eternity. Still no score. And then came a -change. - -From time to time, as the teams moved toward the center of the field, Red -had stolen a glance at Berley Todd. She had not been home. Apparently -this game was, for the time, all that mattered. As the young football -star thought of this a lump rising in his throat all but choked him. - -Somehow Berley had secured a place directly behind the rail in the first -tier of seats. Every time Red stole a glance at her he found her sitting -there, sober-faced, tense, expectant. She did not leap and scream as -others did. She did not join in the shouting. - -"I'd almost say she was praying," Red told himself. "Wonder if any one -ever prayed at a football game?" - -Surely if ever there was occasion for sober thoughts over a ball game, -this was the time. A thousand, five thousand, perhaps ten thousand -foolish men had been tricked into gambling on what they believed to be a -sure thing. - -"We don't care for them," Drew Lane had said. "If they were the only ones -to suffer they should lose. But if they _do_ lose, their families will -suffer; women and children. So Red, you must fight! Fight! _Fight!_" - -He _had_ fought. But all in vain. Somehow he could not get into the game. -The very weight of responsibility seemed to crush the spirit out of him. - -Then, four minutes before the end, a strange thing happened. He was -beyond the center of the field on the enemy's territory. There was "time -out." He heard a thin voice calling. It was Berley Todd. - -"Red," she whispered hoarsely as he came near, "why don't you try the -Flea Flicker?" Then she smiled. It was her first smile that day. - -There was something about that smile that lifted the heavy burden from -Red's shoulders. - -"The Flea Flicker. Why not?" - -He had described the play to her while on one of their wild boat rides -before the island. - -"The Flea Flicker. Four minutes to play. Why not? Why not forget all but -the game? Play for the mere sport of it? Football is sport, not business. -The Flea Flicker, that's it!" - -He joined his team in a huddle. "The Flea Flicker" was whispered from man -to man. A ripple of mirth passed over the weary fighters. - -Old Midway had the ball. It was the fourth down. Four minutes to play. If -they lost the ball they might never regain it. This play was a -complicated one. What did it matter? Win or lose; the Flea Flicker. - -Signals were called. Masters, the fullback, dropped to the rear in -position for a place kick. Red sank to his knee as if to receive the -ball. - -The play was on. The ball was snapped, not to Red but to Masters. -Northern players charged. Dwyer, the right half, ignoring his man, stood -up, facing Masters. Red ran wide to the right. Masters pitched the ball -to Dwyer. Dwyer tossed it to Red and he was away. - -It was strange, the feeling that came over Red Rodgers as he leaped -forward. He was not on a football field dodging men, but on the water, -heading into waves that threatened to swamp his frail craft. There was -one to the right, a huge one. This way out. Here were two at the left. A -quick turn here, a short twist there, and he was on again. Five, ten, -fifteen, twenty, twenty-five yards, he raced forward. The field was clear -now. The crowd was on its feet. They were shouting themselves hoarse. The -miracle had happened. The Red Rover, their idol, was away at last. - -"Touchdown! Touchdown!" they screamed. And at last Berley Todd joined in -the cry. "Touchdown! Touchdown!" - -Touchdown it was. Then the crowd waited, breathless, for the kick that -promised a tie or defeat; the crowd waited and lost, for the ball went -wild. The score stood Northern 7; Midway 6. - -"Two minutes to play," Red muttered to himself. "Two minutes are enough -for any man's touchdown." But were they? - -Midway called for "time out." As the team dropped to the ground one word -was passed from man to man. - -A moment's rest and they were up again. A hush fell over the great throng -as Northern sent the ball soaring high. - -Watching as a hunter watches a hawk, Red measured the distance, dashed a -clean twenty yards, gathered the ball in his arms and, never pausing, -sped on toward the goal line. - -It was strange. Only half conscious of his opponents, he passed them one -by one. As one leaped at his feet he swerved and sagged far over. The man -missed. Now three were bunched against him. They formed a pinwheel. He -was at the center of the wheel. They whirled round and round like sparks. -They flew to right and left of him. Again he sped on. One man remained. -Red leaped at him, then stopped dead. The man went on his face. - -Then, with the thundering roar of a victory mad throng beating on his -ears, he fell across the line for a touchdown. - -Johnny Thompson and Drew Lane, away up on Passage Island, heard all this, -and greeted one another with a solemn handclasp. - -"They try for the extra point," the announcer called. What did it matter? -The game was won. - -"It's good! What matter? The score stands 13 to 7. One minute to play. -Time out. The Red Rover is leaving the game." - -What did it matter? The game was won. - - * * * * * * * * - -Tom Howe's mop-up men did their work well. Angelo the impostor and his -band of crooks and kidnapers were sent to jail; not, however, until their -bank accounts were exhausted, their safety boxes emptied, paying back the -money they had hoped to steal. - -With a pilot imported from Houghton, Johnny rode in the big amphibian -with Drew's prisoners back to the city. Drew rode alone in the red racer. - -As for Red, a cold shower woke him from the half-trance that had carried -him to victory in one of the famous football games of history. Two days -later he found himself sitting before a small fire in his own room, -meditating on the future. Berley Todd had urged him to visit her in her -father's palatial home. Would he go? She had asked him to go with her to -Isle Royale in the good old summer time. - -"Isle Royale," he murmured. "The land of dreams." Would he go? - -The Grand Old Man was leaving football forever. Should he, too, leave and -go back to the steel mill? Surely life was strange. - -A book lay on his lap. It was "Burton's Analytic Geometry." He must dig -in. He dug. - -The morning after his return Drew Lane met Jimmie Drury. "Jimmie," he -demanded, "why did you play the Galloping Ghost?" - -"How do you know I did?" Jimmie grinned. - -"Come on. Quit your kidding! Own up!" - -"Well, you see," Jimmie's smile broadened, "it happened that I was at a -masquerade party the night the Red Rover was kidnaped. I had dressed as a -ghost. I was on my way home when the thing broke. Got out of my taxi and -went after the story, just as I was. When the myth about the Galloping -Ghost got out, I decided to continue the part. You know the rest." - -"Yes, I know. You helped a lot." - -"In a case like that," said Jimmie soberly, "every man of us must do his -best." - -So the story ends. There will be another called _Whispers at Dawn_. Will -Drew Lane, Johnny, and the others walk through these pages? Who can say? -Time moves swiftly. Yesterday's hero is forgotten to-day. To-morrow -brings another. Read and see. - - - - - Transcriber's Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text--this e-text - is public domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - ---In the text versions, included italics inside _underscores_ (the HTML - version replicates the format of the original.) - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galloping Ghost, by Roy J. 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