Flynn’s Weekly Detective Fiction. Vol. 18, No. 3, September 18, 1926
- Автор: Bailey H. C., Bechdolt Jack
- Год: 1926
- Язык: английский
- Год: The Red Star News Company
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Flynn’s Weekly Detective Fiction. Vol. 18, No. 3, September 18, 1926». Краткое содержание книги:
When I woke up Julius Brakely was standing in the doorway, and there was a movement of men and boats in the cove below.
I could see the warm sunlight through the vines at the door, and didn’t think I had slept long. I got to my feet as Brakely advanced a step. His eyes, accustomed now to the gloom, bored into mine. I stood waiting for some sign of his purpose, preparing to fight my way out, no matter what the odds. There was no way of retreat.
“George,” he said, “how did you know about this cave?”
“I found it,” I told him.
“Found it, eh?” The line of his white teeth appeared as his lips curled in a mirthless smile. His voice was low, and I got an idea that he didn’t want the men in the cave to hear. “Just stumbled across it, eh?” folding his arms and looking at me doubtfully. “That’s a lie,” he asserted evenly. “You fled to this cave from the Seabird, after the scrape over Radd. Who told you about this cave?”
“No one. I just found it.”
“Is Le Gorille on this island?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” he rejoined, wagging his head. “I’ve learned a few things since we parted. The first time you made a break on the yacht, you had a French army pistol. The brainless boob you flashed it on never thought of that until this morning. He told me. Did you get that pistol from Vernet? Did he pass it down to you from the boat deck, that first night out?”
“No.”
“But you had a French army pistol. That was the gun the gendarme got off you at Monte Carlo. It was the Gorilla’s gun.”
“I don’t know the Gorilla. Where would I meet him?”
Brakely meditated. I saw that he was very tired and unstrung, too. He was as strong a man as myself, and as young, but he had begun to break under the strain of what we had been through together. If he was unarmed, it would be an even match — if we were permitted to fight it out between ourselves.
There was no sound from the cove now except the restless stir of the water.
“Tell you what I’m going to do,” Brakely informed me. “I’ve got work to do around this cove. You know more than I thought you did. I’m afraid of you, but I’m going to spare you once more. I’m simply going to tie you up, so you can’t sneak up behind me.”
I didn’t mean to submit to that.
“Tie you up, and plant you somewhere in the woods,” he went on. “Got to do it. I can’t find Vernet; don’t know whether he’s on the island or on the Seabird. I never paid much attention to that fellow, but he’s got me worried now. If he gave you Le Gorille’s pistol, he’s a little too wise to be at large. If you found the gun here in this cave — well, George, I wish you’d come clean about that.”
“I’ll tell you nothing.”
“All right. I didn’t think you would. That’s why I’m glad I found you. I didn’t know about this cave myself.” His eyes had been busy ever since he stepped in. “It’s very cleverly concealed. I sent some of the boys around to the cove in the boats — the boats off the Angela Lee. We had a conference after you went away.
“They’re my men again. They took a look at the twisted face under that blanket, and groveled, as I said they would. I took a look at things over at the other cove, and left some men to watch the crowd on the Seabird. Sent the others around here.
“I thought I’d walk across the island, and see if I could find you and Vernet. I’ve got to fix you fellows so you can’t make a move against me. I need sleep, and I can’t sleep with you and Vernet running loose — now that you know more than I thought you did. I’m going to tie you up. I may handle Vernet in a different way.”
I began to get the idea. Some of Brakely’s gang had come to the cove in boats. He had walked to the cliffs above, and, searching, had found the path leading down to Hippolyte’s cave. The gang had business of some sort in the caves below. Did Brakely’s men know that he was in the cave above?
Had he some reason for concealing this cave from them? Would he attempt to dispose of me quietly, and not let them know he had found this cave? A man could come down to it from the cliffs without being seen from the cove. They were waiting for him to show up.
Le Gorille, the Paris Apache — Hippolyte — was more than an incident in this game, too. Brakely was deeply concerned over the possibility of the Gorilla being on the island. He must have seen that this cave bore numerous signs of long occupation.
Indeed, there was a bright gleam in Brakely’s eyes — a gleam that comes in the eyes of a man scenting victory. He had penetrated a secret that had long baffled him.
Did this cave hold treasure?
“You’ve got pretty good sense, George,” Brakely was saying. “You’ve nothing but your bare hands to fight with. I’ve got two guns on me. I have a gang in the cove below. I’ve got to tie you up. For God’s sake, don’t make me kill you!”
He really dreaded that thought. Brakely wanted the thing he had come here for. He wanted to get it quietly, if possible — but I labored under no delusions that his aversion to killing me would stop him if he thought such a job offered the only chance of winning out.
“If you’ll lie down quietly,” he told me, “I’ll fix these ropes on you so you’ll be comfortable.” He had brought ropes along in the expectation of running across me somewhere. “I’ll protect you, if you’ll be reasonable and—”
Chapter XXXIII
To the Death
I sprang on him.
I was surprised at my own strength and ferocity. It seemed that I realized this was to be a fight for a final decision, and the weakness of nerve and muscle I felt before I fell asleep had utterly vanished.
Yet so intent did Brakely seem to be on keeping the secret of this cave from the men below that he emitted no cry for re-enforcements nor made any effort to get at his guns.
He fought off my attempts to get one of the guns, however.
And I guess he thought that he could handle me alone and with bare hands. He was the kind of a man who would think that, for he didn’t know what fear was, and he had whipped me to a standstill in my cabin aboard the Seabird, while we were still in Marseilles harbor.
Anyhow, we fought man to man in the gloom of the cave.
The surprise of my sudden leap gave me an advantage, and I banged my fist into Brakely’s face before we fell into a clinch. I threw him against the rock wall, and with a back-handed blow knocked his head against that surface. These setbacks fogged Brakely’s brain, but they warned him, too, that he had a tough job on his hands.
He summoned all his strength, clung to me until he got his head back, then tore into me. Then I learned again what a wonderful fighting man he was. He laid me on the floor with a blow that seemed to shatter my brain into a thousand pieces, but I fought off insensibility.
I give him credit for not leaping on me then and there and finishing his job. His instinct for fair play ruled him even then. I got slowly to my feet, and for a few seconds, seeking a respite, kept Hippolyte’s big stone water bowl between us. My brain cleared in those few seconds.
Brakely, in a pinch, could resort to his guns or summon help from below. This strengthened his confidence as he came after me with a grin on his bleeding face.
We punched each other, but neither went down. The walls saved both of us from that several times. We fought, clinched for breathing spells, and fought again. Neither sought to use anything but the weapons nature had given him. I knocked him down, and sprang on top.