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Page 33
For a moment the sly eyes of the Wolf swept the room, then his
hands were raised. He backed toward the table but a curt order
from Hen, and he stood still.
"There's rope on that table," said Hen. "Get it and bind him."
Beany grabbed the rope, and bent to tie the ankles of the Wolf.
Like a flash his hands came down, he seized the boy and clutching
him in a vise-like grip, held him before him as a shield.
"Shoot if you like," he sneered, and backed rapidly toward the
door. Hen followed, the useless pistol still pointed, but
Beany's body covered the Wolf who, with the strength of ten, held
Beany before him as he neared the door that would mean escape,
and safety. He had almost reached it when a deafening noise
sounded from below. There was the sound of a door being battered
in, shots were fired, and shouts heard. For a second the Wolf
faltered. For a second he was off his guard. In that second,
Beany made a light, steel-muscled bound, swung his legs up and
out, using the spy's breast as a brace, turned a somersault over
his head, dropping to the floor behind him. It was so quick, so
unexpected, that the Wolf could not keep his hold, and Beany
dropped to the floor, crying, "Shoot!"
A revolver cracked, but it was in the Wolf's hand. Porky felt a
sting as the bullet grazed his shoulder. Then Hen's weapon
barked just once!
The revolver dropped from the Wolf's hand, a strange, blank look
spread over his face, and he sank to his knees. Beany, flat on
the floor behind him, jumped to his feet.
The door, which had been unlatched, swung violently open and for
a second the face of Ledermann appeared, then flashed by as he
saw the tableau, and dashed for the stairway to the attic and the
roof. A dozen policemen ran in, three of them following
Ledermann, at Porky's direction, while the others snapped the
cuffs on the two men at the table, and tenderly took the cruel
gag from Asa's parched and bleeding mouth, and untied him. Beany
rushed up into the attic after the men who were pursuing
Ledermann and as he reached the place, the call of the wireless
caught his attention. He answered the call, and commenced to
take down a long message.
Below, Porky and Hen knelt by the Wolf and turned him over. He
still breathed, and Hen fumbled through his pockets for another
revolver. He found instead a long, keen knife which he threw
aside. Then, with Porky, he fell to watching the closed eyes of
the spy. They opened, and the Wolf looked from one to the other
with cold, unrelenting hatred. He did not speak.
"Buck up!" said Hen suddenly. His voice shook with excitement.
"Say, you don't want to croak yet. I got to tell you: the Weasel
said to tell you that he had bit. Understand? He has bit.
See?" Hen paused with a look of satisfaction.
The Wolf, who was bleeding fearfully, slowly closed his eyes.
"That ends him," said Hen solemnly. "Gosh!"
A detective felt the heart of the wounded man.
"He's alive," he said. "Send an ambulance call, somebody."
Another detective raced down the stairs, while those who remained
commenced to search the room for hiding places.
"I know where he's got some stuff hidden," Asa said thickly.
"Take off his shoe; the other one," and someone did so. "Get
that iron thing on the table," Asa continued, "and get the heel
off."
The Chief had it done in a moment and the tiny squares of paper
fluttered to the floor. The Chief picked them carefully up, and
put them in his pocketbook as a wild clanging down below
announced the coming of the ambulance. A couple of doctors came
up, three steps at a time, and examined the Wolf. A bandage soon
stopped the flow of blood, and, still unconscious, he was carried
down the stairs. A detective picked Asa up and prepared to
follow, but that young man stiffened, the way a spunky boy
sometimes does, and slid through the man's arms. As he came to
his feet, he let out a howl of pain, and went to his knees. But
he was speaking.
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