The Galloping Ghost | Page 9

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 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
gIiding 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 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
coolheaded 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