Shadow, the Mysterious Detective/Chapter 22

were in a fix of the worst possible description, and I felt at that minute that no matter how important a capture I might expect to make thereby, I would never again put myself in seeming league with house-breakers.

No, sir!

Spring guns was just one too many to suit my taste.

This was my first experience in the art of "crib-cracking," and if I could only get safely out of this I felt that I should be perfectly contented to have it my last as well as my first.

If you have never been in a similar situation you can only have a faint conception of my feelings as I stood there, not daring to move lest I might set those concealed springs to going.

I do not think my bitterest enemy would accuse me of cowardice, and I don't think that my trembling just then was the result of cowardice on my part.

Such a feeling as came over me then I never had before and have never had since.

In reaching for the button of the window Woglom's hand was made a prisoner by the same means.

At once both commenced to wildly thrash about with their heels, in an attempt to get loose and make their escape.

"For Heaven's sake," I gasped, "keep your feet quiet. You may set the infernal machine at work."

But they only thrashed harder.

I momentarily expected to be blown to pieces, to be riddled by a teacupful of young bullets, a certainly not very pleasing reflection.

It occurred to me that it was a singular sort of position for a detective to be caught in, and I groaned as I thought of the laugh my brother professionals would have at my expense.

That I would eventually be able to exonerate myself, I had no doubt. But before I could do so I would of necessity be obliged to spend the remainder of the present night, and possibly several additional days and nights, in jail before being set free.

It was not a pleasant prospect.

Indeed, it was quite the contrary.

And it would, in all probability, hurt my standing in the force, and give my envious enemies a handle for sneers and innuendoes.

Some of these—and I knew I had enemies—would not hesitate to hint that there was "a nigger in the fence;" in other words, that I was not as innocent as I tried to make out.

I am afraid that I uttered an oath or two. In fact, I am quite sure I did.

But how to help myself?

Was I to stand there like a stake until I was reached and collared by the gardener and hostler, who had been hastily roused, and whom I could now hear coming with heavy tread down the stairs inside the house?

All the thrashing around of Woglom and his pal had not started the spring guns.

This thought flashed across my brain.

Ha!

Perhaps the gentleman's statement of a whole battery of these masked weapons was a fiction, designed to hold us spellbound with fear.

There was a hope in the thought.

How my heart bounded!

I had often thought I could imagine just how a cornered criminal feels, as he gathers himself, in very desperation, for a dash for liberty.

But my imagination had never drawn so vivid a picture as was painted by my situation and its natural feelings at that moment.

I glanced up.

Out of the window that head still protruded, and the eyes in it were watching me sharply.

The muzzle of the gun was directed at me point-blank.

The gentleman knew that the two others were trapped, and so paid me the compliment of keeping me under surveillance.

I heard the back door of the house opened.

In a minute the gardener and hostler would be upon me.

I had no time to lose if I meant to make my escape.

And escape I must!

Two or three bounds would certainly carry me outside the circle in which the spring-guns were concealed, if concealed they were.

I gathered my muscles.

The watcher seemed to divine my intentions, for he sternly called:

"Stand still there! If you move, or try to escape, I'll shoot you down. I am not talking idly, but am in grim earnest."

I was satisfied of that from his tone.

But I must escape.

I would risk a shot at me.

Catching my breath, I took a big leap, and——

Bang!

He had been as good as his word.

I thought a swarm of bees were flying around my head.

But I had taken a second leap just in the nick of time, and, unharmed, escaped the shower of big buckshot which would have riddled my body, had not I been so quick.

A third and fourth leap, and then I took to my heels.

The fence barred my way.

And the gardener and his companion were close behind me. I made no attempt to go out of the gate. Nor did I waste time in climbing the fence.

I ran toward it for all I was worth, and bounded over it on the fly, alighted safely on the other side, and then went down the road like a streak of greased lightning.

"After him!—after him!—I can attend to these two!" I heard an excited voice yell, and the two men obeyed the order.

As I ran, I conned the situation.

I found that I could easily outstrip the lumbering workmen. But that was not the thing. In an hour the whole country would be aroused, and it would be impossible to get a train back to the city without being collared.

A thought struck me.

Easing my pace, so as just to keep ahead of my pursuers, I took off and turned my coat inside out (it was made reversible for the purposes of disguise.)

I yanked off my false mustache, with a tiny pair of scissors hastily trimmed down my false beard, and changed its shape.

A few other changes I was able to make without pausing, and I felt sure I could then pass muster.

Suddenly halting short, I uttered a shout and then blazed away with my revolver, and was still shooting when the puffing men reached me.

"Were you after him?" I inquired.

"Yes," was the reply. "Which way did he go?"

"Straight ahead. My!—how he did run! You can never catch him."

"We can try," said they, and I joined with them in the pursuit—of a phantom, now!

Finally giving up the pursuit, we turned our steps backward over the course we had come. They told me what had happened, and I informed them that I was a detective.

We reached the house.

The constable had been summoned, and the two rascals were already in irons.

The display of my badge made me perfectly solid, and I was taken into the confidence of the authorities when I—to their surprise as well as that of Woglom and his pal—told the names of the pair and gave their pedigree.

When in the light, I saw Woglom and his pal glance at me rather hard. But the change in appearance was so great, that, while they might suspect, they could not be sure that Detective Howard was their recent companion.

Should the forgoing chapter be read by the inhabitants of that little Jersey village, they will for the first time learn who the third person of that burglarious trio really was.

I saw the rascals caged safely, and then returned to the city, as thankful a man as ever stepped in two shoes.

No more such adventures for me.

I was perfectly satisfied with one such experience.

My next move was to try and find Shadow, whom I next saw under very peculiar circumstances.