Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, June 10, 1921, Image 2
Bull-Dog Drummond The Adventures of a Demobilized Officer Who Found Peace Dull sm— by CYRIL McNEILE “SAPPER” ILLUSTRATIONS BY IRWIN MYERS Copyright by Geo. H. Doran Co. (Continued from last week.) SYNOPSIS. mets. i t Hugh grinned sheepishly. “The exchange went wrong,” he re- marked at length. “Astonishing how rotten the telephones are in town these days.” “Quite remarkable,” she returned. «] thought you weren't feeling very well or something. Of course, if it was the exchange . . .” “They sort of buzz and blow, don’t you know,” be explained helpfully. «That must be most fearfully jolly for them,” she agreed. And there was silence for the next two miles. Once or twice he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in every detail of the sweet profile so near to him. Except for their first meeting at the Carlton, it was the only time he had ever had her com- pletely to himself, and Hugh was de- termined to make the most of it. He felt as if he could go on driving for ever, just he and she alone. It was then that the girl turned and looked at him. The car swerved danger ' cusly. . . PROLOGUE.—In December, 1918, four mén gathered in a hotel in Berne and beard one of the quartet to paralyze Great Britain and at the outline a plan | | same time seize world power. The other : three, Hocking, American, and end Von Gratz, Germans, all millionaires, agree to the scheme, providing another man, Hiram Potts, an American, is taken in. The instigator of the plot gives his pame as Comte de Guy, but when he leaves for England with his daughter he decides to use the name Carl Peterson. CHAPTER I. — Capt. Hugh (Bulldog) Drummond, a retired officer, advertises r work that will give him excitement, ng “X10.” As a result he meets Phyllis Benton, swered his ad. She tells him of strange murders and robberies of which she sus- | ts a band headed by Carl Peterson and Steineman i | a young woman who an- nry Lakington of being the leaders. : CHAPTER IL—Drummond decides to go to The Larches, Miss Benton's home. { | | An attempt is made on the road to wreck his machine when another, occupled by Peterson, Lakington and a strange man, blocks the road. While dining with Phyl- lis Benton and her father Drummond hears a terrible shriek at The Elms. Dur- ing the night Drummond leaves The Yarches and explores The Elms. He dis- covers Lakington and Peterson using a thumbscrew on an American who signs a paper. Drummond rescues the Ameri- can after a struggle and takes him to his home. The man is Hiram C. Potts. . CHAPTER II1—Peterson visits Drum- | mond the next day, departing with a threat to return later and recover Potts and also a torn paper which Drummond | i i 1 geized the night of the fight. With the ald of Peter Darrel, an old army friend, | Drummond arranges to hide Potts, and substitute in his place one Mullings, a de- mobilized soldier, who 1s seized by Peter- son and his gang and taken to The Elms, along with Drummond. CHAPTER IV.— When Peterson dis- covers the hoax Drummond is escorted by Irma to & room where he is to stay for the night. During the night Drum- mond is exploring the house when he gets in a strange room in which is a cobra. He escapes, but on the stairs has a fight in the dark. CHAPTER V.—Drummond enlists the | “Let's stop,” she said, with the sus- picion of a smile. “Then you can tell me.” Hugh drew into the side of the road. and switched off the engine. “You're not fair,” he remarked, and if the girl saw his hand trembling a little as he opened the door, she gave no sign. He came and stood beside her, and his right arm lay along the seat just behind her shoulders. «ell me about this important thing,” she said a little nervously. He smiled, and no woman yet born could see Hugh Drummond smile with- out smiling too. «you darlieg!” he whispered, under his breath—“you adorable darling Mm His arm closed around her, and, al- most before she realized it, she felt his lips on hers. For a moment she sat motionless, while the wonder of it surged over her, and the sky seemed more gloriously blue, and the woods a richer green. Then, with a little gasp, she pushed him away. “You mustn't oh! mustn't, Hugh,” she whispered. “And why not, little girl?” he said exultantly. “Don’t you know I love you?” to hers. “Well?” «Well, what?’ she murmured. “It’s your turn,” he whispered. “I love you, Phyllis—just love you.” «But it’s only two or ihree days since we met,” she said feebly. “And phwat the divil has that got to do with it, at all?” he demanded. «Would I he waiting longer to de- you His face was still very close t | cfde such an obvious fact? Tell me,” | . he went un, and she felt his arm round ald of Algy Longworth, Toby Sinclair, Ted Jerningham and Jerry Seymour, the latter an aviator. Drummond, after an | encounter with the pseudo Potts, meets Irma talking to the marquis of Laidley | and suspects the gang is plotting for the | I Laidley jewels. Drummond and his friends are gassed as they sit in his apartment. Lakington carries off Potts. § SNL Na ST Judas csr EE La CHAPTER VI.—When Drummond and his friends recover they plan to again res- cue Potts. Drummond goes to see Phyl- 1is and besides learning Potts has been taken to The Elms also becomes engaged to her. Drummond is captured by the gang in the attempted rescue. “No go, old Lean,” said Hugh. de- cisively. “Too many of ’em to hope to pull it off. No, low cunning is the only thing that’s got an earthly of succeeding.” -——om, on * for the love of Heaven don’t ram the wrong gate.” “What are you going to do yeur self?” demanded Peter suspiciously. “I'm going to look at her from cloe to. Go away, all of you, and don’t listen outside the telephone box.” THREE, Hugh stopped his car at Guildford | station and, lighting a cigarette, strolled restlessly up and down. looked at his watch a dozen times in two minutes; he threw away bis smoke before it was half finished. Tn ° short he manifested every symptom usually displayed by the male of the gpecies when awaiting the arrival of the opposite sex. Over the telephone he had arranged that she should come by train from Godalming to confer with him on a matter of great import- | ance; she had said she would, but what was it? He, having no suitable answer ready; had made a loud buzz- ing noise indicative of a telephone exchange in pain. and then rung off. And now he was waiting in that pe- culiar condition of mind, which reveals itself outwardly in hands that are rather too warm, and feet that are rather too cold. “When is this bally train likely to arrive?’ He accosted a phlegmatic official, who regarded him coldly, and doubted the likelihood of its being more than a quarter of an hour early. At length it was signaled, and Hugh got back into his car. Feverishly he scanned the faces of the passengers as they came out into the street, until, with a sudden quick jump of his heart, he saw her, cool and fresh, coming toward him with a faint smile on her lips. “What is this very important matter you want to talk to me about?” she demanded, as he assisted her into his car. “I'll tell you when we get out on the Hog’s Back,” he said slipping in his clutch, “It’s ahsolutely vital.” He stole a glance at her, but she «as looking straight in front of her, and her face seemed expressionless. “You must stand a long way off when you do,” she sald demurely. “At least if it’s the same thing as you With a grin he rose, and | then strolled toward the door. “Now | go and rope in Ted and Jerry, and | He ! | her again forcing her to look at him —%ell me, don't you care . o o 8 little?” “What's the use?’ She still strong: «led, but, even to her, it wasn’t very convincing, “We've got other things to.do, . . We can’t think of. > And then this very determined young man settled matters in his usual straightforward fashion. She felt herself lifted bodily out of the car as if she had been a child: she 4 dl JL AN ] WU V7) ih A 3 (Nn Wi aL) | | \ J LE | \ WA 4 ia 4 \ og 0) NR 0 PE, 1 re 7 B4 Aa pe rT - She Found Herself Lying in His Arms, With Hugh's Eyes Looking Very Tenderly Into Her Own and a Whim- sical Grin Around His Mouth. found herself lving in his arms, <with Hugh's eyes looking very tenderly in- to her own, and a whimsical grin around his mouth. “Cars pass bere,” he remarked, “with great regularity. I know you'd hate to be discerered in this posi- tion.” “Would I?” wonder . + She felt his heart pound madly against her; and with a sudden quick movement she put forth her arms round his neck and kissed him on the mouth, “Is that good enough?” she asked, very low: and just for a few moments, time stood still. . . . Then, very gently, he put her back in the car. “I suppose,” he remarked resigned- ly, “that we had better descend to trivialities. We've had lots of fun and games since I last saw you a year or two ago.” } “Jdiot boy,” she said happily. was yesterday morning.” “The interruption is considered trivial. Mere facts don't count when it's you and me.” There was a fur- ther interlude of uncertain duration, followed rapidly by another because she “1 » whispered. “It old me over the ’phone.” B 1 the tirst was so nice. - = “To resume,’ continued Hugh, “I regret to state that they've got Potts. The girl sat up quickly and stared at him. “Got him? Oh, Hugh! how did they manage it?” “I'm d—d if 1 know,” he answered grimly. “They found out that he was in my bungalow at Goring during the afternoon by sending round a man to see about the water. Somehow or other he must have doped the drink or the food. because after dinner we all fell asleep. I don’t remember any- thing more till 1 woke this morning with the most appalling head. Of course, Potts had gone.” “] heard the car drive up in the middle of the night,” said the girl thoughtfully. “Do you think he’s at The Elms now?” «That is what 1 propose to find out tonight,” answered Hugh. “We have staged a little comedy for Peter- son’s especial benefit, and we are hop- ing for the best.” “Oh, boy, do be careful!” She 1ooked at him anxiously. “I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Fd feel it was all due to me, and 1 just couldn’t bear it.” “Dear little girl.” he whispered ten- derly. “youre simply adorable when vou look like that. But not even for you would I back out of this show now.” His mouth set in a grim line. “It’s gone altogether too far, and they've shown themselves to be so completely beyond the pale that it's got to be fought out. And when it has been,” he caught both her hanas in his “and we've won why then, girl o’ mine, we'll | got Peter Darrell to be best man.” Which was the cae for the com- mencement of the last and longest interlude, terminated only by the sud- den and unwelcome appearance of a motor-'bus covered within and with- out by unromantic s’ghtseers, and paper-bags containing bananas, They drove slowly back to Guild- ford, and on the way he told her brief- Iy of the murder of the American’s secretary in Belfast, and his inter- vinw the preceding afternoon with the impostor at the Carlton. “It's a tough proposition,” he re- marked quietly. “They're absolutely without scruple, aad their power scems unlimited. [I know they are after the duchess of Lampshire’s pearls: 1 found the beautiful Irma consumirg tea with young Laidley vesterday—you know, the duke's eld- est son. But there’s scmething more in the wind than that, Phyllis—some- Ling which. unless I'm a mug of the ‘rst water, is an infinitely larger roposition than that.” The car drew up at the station, and he strolled with her to the plat- . form. Then the train came in, and he put her into a carriage. And two minutes later, with the touch of her lips warm on his, and her anxious little ery, “Take care, my darling !— It was Jerry Seymour who then took up the bawl. His voice was in- tensely solemn—also extremely loud. «preposhterous. Perfectly preposh- terous. We must go end apologize to the owner. sn lie. Yo absholutely . . . musht apologize. . . . Quite unpardonable. . . - You can't go about country . . knocking down gates. . . . Out of queshtion. . . J” Half-consciously Hugh listened, but, now that the moment for action had come, every faculty was concentrated on his own job. He saw half a dozen men go rushing out into the garden through a side door, and then two more ran out and came straight toward him. They crashed past him and went on into the darkness, and for an in- stant he wondered what they were doing. A little later he was destined fofindout. . . . Then came a peal at the front-door bell, and he determined to wait no longer. He darted through the gar- den door, to find a flight of stairs in front of him, and in another moment he was on the first floor. He walked rapidly along the landing, trying to find his bearings, and, turning a corner, he found himself at the top of the main staircase—the spot where he had fought Peterson two nights previous- ly. He walked quickly on to the room which he calculated was the one where he had seen the shadow on the blind. Without a secend’s hesitation he flung the door open and walked in. There lying in the bed, was the American, while crouched beside him, with a re- volver in his hand, was a man. . . . For a few seconds they watched one another in silence, and then the man straightened up. “The soldier!” young pup!” Deliberately, almost casually, he raised his revolver, and then the un- expected happened. A jet of liquid ammonia struck him full in the face, and with a short laugh Hugh dropped his water-pistol in his pocket, and turned his attention to the bed. Wrap- ping the millionaire in a blanket, he picked him up, and, paying no more attention to the man gasping and chok- ing in a corner, he raced for the back stairs. Below he could hear Jerry hiccough- ing gently, and explaining to the pro sha pro . pritor that he per- shonally would repair . inshisted on repairing any and every gate posht he posshessed. . And then he reached the garden. . Everything had fallen out exactly as he had hoped, but had hardly dared to expect. He heard Peterson's voice, calm and suave as usual, answering Jerry. From the garden in front came the dreadful sound of a duet by Algy and Peter. Not a soul was in sight; the back of the house was clear. All he snarled. “You ' that he had to do was to walk quietly take care!” still ringing in his ears, he got into his car and drove off to an hotel to get an early dinner. FOUR, At a quarter to ten he backed his car into the shadow of some trees not far from the gate of The Elms. Save for a light in the sitting-raom ! . and one in a bedroom upstairs, the front of the house was in darkness, and, treading noiselessly on the turf, he explored all round it. There was one bedroom light at the back of the house, and thrown on the blind he could see the shadow of a man. AS he watched, the man got up and moved away, only to return in a mo- ment or two and take up his old posi- tion. “It's one of those two bedrooms,” he muttered to himself, “if he’s here at all.” : Then he crouched in the shadow of some shrubs and waited. Through the trees to his right he could see The Larches, and once, with a sudden quickening of his heart, he thought he saw the outline of the girl show up in the light from the drawing-room. But it was only for a second, and lien it was gore. . . . He peered at his watch: it was Just ten o'clock. The trees were creaking gently in the faint wind; all around him the strange night noises—noises which play pranks with a man’s | nerves—were whispering and mutter- ing. Bushes seemed suddenly to come to life, and move; eerie shapes crawled pver the ground toward Lim—figures which existed only in | his imagination. And once again the thrill of the night stalker gripped him. He remembered the German who pad lain motionless for an hour in a little gully by Hebuterne, while he from behind a stunted bush had tried to locate him. And then that one creak as the Boche had moved hisleg.’ And then . . . the end. On that night, too, the little hummocks had moved and taken to themselves strange shapes: fifty times he had imagined he saw him; fifty times he knew he was wrong—in time. He was used to it; the night held no terrors for him, only a fierce excite- ment. And thus it was that as he crouched In the bushes, waiting for the game to start, his pulse was as normal, and his nerves as steady as if he had been sitting down to supper. The only difference was that in his hand he held something tight-gripped. At last faintly in the distance he heard the hum of a car. Rapidly it grew louder, and he smiled grimly to Simself as the sound of five unme- imilous voices singing lustily struck his ear. They passed along the road in front of the house. There was a sudden crash—then silence; but only for a moment. Peter's voice came first: ‘uyou priceless old "ass, rammed the blinking gate.” you've | | i | I | through the wicket-gate to The IEA 1 at J / | 4 i Jo Z 7 with ! i “The Soldier!” He Snarled. “You Young Pup!” Larches with his semi-conscious bur- den, get to his car, and drive off. It all seemed so easy that he laughed. .. . But there were one or two factors that he had forgotten, and the first and most important one was the man upstairs. The window was thrown up suddenly, and the man leaned out wav- ing his arms. He was still gasping with the strength of the ammonia, but Hugh saw him clearly in the light from the room behind. And as he cursed himself for a fool in not having tied him up, from the trees close by there came the sharp clang of metal. With a quick catch in his breath he began to run. The two men who had rushed past him before he had entered the house, and whom, save for a pass- ing thought, he had disregarded, had become the principal danger. For he had heard that clang before; he re- menibered Jem Smith's white horror- struck face, and then his sigh of re- lief as the thing—whatever it was— was shut in its cage. And now it was out, dodging through the trees, let loose by the two men. He heard some- thing crash into a bush on his right, and give a snarl of anger. Like a flash 20 swerved into the undergrowth on the left. Then began a dreadful game. He was. still some way from the fence, and he was hampered at. every step by the man slung over his back. He could hear the thing blundering about searching for him, and sudden- ly, with a cold feeling of fear, he vealized that the animal was in front of him—that his way to the gate was barred. The next moment he saw i... Shadowy, indistinct, in the darkness, he saw something glide between two bushes. Then it came out into the open, and he knew it bad seen him, though as yet he could not make out what it was. Cautiously he lowered the million- aire to the ground, and took a step forward. It was enough; with a snarl of fury the crouch shambled toward him. Two hairy arms shot out toward his throat, he smelt the brute’s foetid breath, hot and loath- some, and he realized what he was up against. It was a partially grown gorilla. For a full minute they fought In silence, save for the hoarse grunts of the animal as it tried to tear away the man’s hand from its throat, and then encircle him with its powerful arms. And with his brain cold as ice Hugh saw his danger and kept his head. It couldn’t go on; no human being could last the pace, whatever his strength. And there was only one chance of finishing it quickly, the pos- sibility that the grip taught him by Olaki would serve with a monkey as it did with a man. He shifted his left thumb an inch or two on the brute’s throat, and the baboon, thinking he was weakening, redoubled its efforts. And then, little by little, the fingers moved, and the grip which had been tight before grew tighter still. Back went its head; something was snapping in its neck. With a scream of fear and rage it wrapped its legs round Drummond, squeezing and writhing. And then sud- denly there was a tearing snap, and the great limbs relaxed and grew limp. For a moment the man stood watch- ing the still quivering brute lying at his feet; then, with a gasp of utter exhaustion, he dropped on the ground himself. He was done—utterly cooked; even Peterson's voice close behind scarcely roused him, “Quite one of the most amusing en- tertainments I've seen for a long time.” The calm, expressionless voice made him look up wearily, and he saw that he was surrounded by men. The in- evitable cigar glowed red im the dark- ness, and after a moment or two he scrambled unsteadily to his feet. “1rd forgotten your d—d menagerie, I must frankly confess,” he remarked. “What's the party for?” He glanced at the men who had closed in round him. “A guard of honor, my young friend,” said PeterSon suavely, “is lead you to the house. I wouldn’t hesitate . . . it's very foolish. Your friends have gone, and, strong as you are, I don’t think you can manage ten.” Hugh commenced to stroll toward the house. “Well, don’t leave the wretched Potts lying about. I dropped him over i there.” CHAPTER VIL, in Which He Spends an Hour or Two on a Roof. ONE. Drummond paused for a moment at | the door of the sitting room, then with a slight shrug he stepped past Peter- son, During the last few days he had grown to look on this particular room as the private den of the principals of the gang. He associated it in his mind with Peterson himself, suave, impas- sive, ruthless; with the girl Irma, per- fectly gowned, lying on the sofa, smok- ing innumerable cigarettes, and mani- curing her already faultless nails; and in a lesser degree, with Henry Laking- ton’s thin, cruel face, and blue, staring eyes. But tonight a different scene con- fronted him. The girl was not there; her accustomed place on the sofa was occupied by an unkempt-looking man with a ragged beard. At the end of the table was a vacant chair, on the right of which sat Lakington regard- ing him with malevolent fury. Along the table on each side there were half a dozen men, and he glanced at their faces. Some were obviously foreign- ers; some might have been anything from murderers to Sunday school teachers. There was one with spec- tacles and the general appearance of an intimidated rabbit, while his neigh- bor, helped by a large red scar right across his cheek, and two bloodshot eyes, struck Hugh as being the sort of man with whom one would not share a luncheon basket. Peterson's voice from just behind his shoulder roused him. “Permit me, gentlemen, to introduce to you Captain Drummond, D. S. 0, M. CO. the originator of the little en- tertainment we have just had.” Hugh bowed gravely. “My only re- gret is that it failed to function,” he remarked. “As I told you outside, I'd quite forgotten your menagerie. In fact”—his glance wandered slowly and somewhat pointedly from face to face at the table—*I had no idea it was such a large one.” “So this is the insolent young swine, is it?” The bloodshot eyes of the man with the scarred face turned on him morogely. “What I cannot understand is why he hasn’t been killed by now.” Hugh waggled an accusing finger at him. “] knew you were a nasty man as soon as I saw you. Now look at Hen- ry up at the end of the table; he doesn’t say that sort of thing. And you do hate me, don’t you, Henry? Fow's the Jaw?” “Captain Drummond,” sald Laking- ton, ignoring Hugh and addressing the first speaker, “was very nearly killed last night. I thought for some time as to whether I would or not, but I finally decided it would be much too easy a death. So it can be remedied tonight.” If Hugh felt a momentary twinge of . fear at the calm, expressionless tone, and the half-satisfied grunt which greeted the words, no trace of it showed on his face. Already the realization had come to him that if he got through the night alive he would be more than passing lucky, but he was too much of a fatalist to let that . worry him unduly. So he merely stifled a yawn, and again turned to Lakington. “So it was you, my little one, whose fairy face I saw pressed against the ' window. Would it be indiscreet to ask how you got the dope into us?” Lakington looked at him with an ex- | pression of grim satisfaction on his : face. “You were gassed, if you want to know. An admirable invention of my friend Kauffner's nation.” { A guttural chuckle came from one ; of the men, and Hugh looked at him . grimly. “The scum certainly would not be | complete,” he remarked to Peterson, “without a filthy Boche in it.” The German pushed back his chair with an oath, his face purple with passion. “A filthy Boche,” he muttered thick- ly, lurching toward Hugh. “Hold him the arms of, and I will the throat tear oat. oY It all happened so quickly. At one moment Hugh was apparently intent upon selecting a cigarette, the next instant the case had fallen to the floor; there was a dull, heavy thud, and the Boche crashed back, over- turned a chair, and fell like a log to the floor, his head hitting the wall with a vicious crack. The bloodshot being resumed his seat a little limply. Hugh resumed his search for a cigarette. “After which breezy interlude,” re- marked Peterson, “let us to business ge ” | Hugh paused in the act of striking a match, and for the first time a gen- uine smile spread over his face. “There are moments, Peterson,” he murmured, “when you really appeal to me.” Peterson took the empty chair next to Lakington. “Sit down,” he said shortly. “I can only hope that I shall appeal to you still more before we kill you.” Hugh bowed and sat down. “Consideration,” he murmured, “was ! always your strong point. May I ask | now long I have to live?” Peterson smiled genially. “At the earnest request of Mr. Lak- ington you are to be spared until to- morrow. At least, that is our present intention. Of course, there might be an accident In the night; in a house like this one never can tell. Or’— ! he carefully cut the end off a cigar—- , “you might go mad, in which case “we ' shouldn't bother to kill you. In fact if you go mad, we shall not be di- I pleased.” | Once again he smiled genially. «as I said before, in a house like ” | this, you can never tell. | The intimidated rabbit, breathing ‘heavily, was staring at Hugh fasciu- ' ated; and after a moment Hugh turned to him with a courteous bow. i “Laddie,” he remarked, “you've heer ' eating onions. Do you mind deflecting { the blast in the opposite direction?” | His calm imperturbability seemed to i madden Lakington. | “You wait,” he snarled thickly; “you | wait till I've finished with you. You | won't be so d—d humorous then. . ..” | Hugh regarded the speaker languid- 1 1y. | “Your supposition is more than prob- | able,” he remarked, in a bored voice. «1 shall be too intent on getting into a Turkish bath to remove the contam- ination to think of laughing.” (To be Continued..) ‘ BEES MUST BE FED TO SAVE STATE HONEY INDUSTRY. Unless the bee-keepers and farmers of the State provide food for their bees, during the next few weeks, thousand of hives of bees will be lost. These bees are now literally starving to death. This warning to the bee-keepers has been sent broadcast throughout the State by the Bureau of Plant Indus- try of the Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture, which has general su- pervision over the bee industry in the State. ; The freezing weather of the spring which destroyed the blossoms on the fruit trees in many sections of the State, destroyed the food supply of thousands of colonies of bees. The clover in many sections of the State was also a complete loss as a result of the late spring freezes. Bee-keep- ers are urged to see to it that their charges are properly nourished. Ad- vice on the feeding of bees will be furnished by the Bureau of Plant In- dustry of Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture at Harrisburg. «Shoot to Kill” is Order to All Post- Office Employees. «Shoot to kill” is the order which, with 20,000 automatic pistols and thousands of riot guns has gone out to postal employees throughout the country. Postmaster General Hays says: "We simply have to go back to the old Wells-Fargo days and put an end to mail robberies by the drastic meth- ods then in vogue.” But while the postal employees, by the new order, are instructed to take no chances in protecting their lives and the mail, capturing bandits will be more profitable. An additional or- der of the Postmaster General pro- vides a reward of $5000 to any post- office employee, civil officer or civil- ian who delivers a mail robber into custody. e———————————— “Qle,” said the preacher to the Swedish bridegroom-to-be, “do you take Hilda Sorgeson for your lawful wedded wife, for better or for worse sid “Qh, well,” replied Ole gloomily, “Aye s’pose Aye get a little of each.” — American Legion Weekly.