The Spider's Reward/Chapter 8

AVING recovered from Togo's double assault, Landren and Jones sat up on the floor of the shack, felt of their sore throats, and finally figured out what had happened.

With one accord they dashed from the shack, to find that their erstwhile prisoner had flown, They reached the path and ran down it to the road, having in mind that Togo undoubtedly would make for that and start back toward the city.

The man for whom Landren and Jones were working had told them nothing except that an enterprise was afoot, and that it was his wish to outwit The Spider and his people and beat him to the loot. It was the task of Landren and Jones to keep Togo out of the way, for the man who employed them judged that John Warwick would have this case in charge and that Togo would aid him.

This employer was a master-criminal himself, and Landren and Jones knew what they might expect if they allowed their prisoner to escape. They reached the road, but found no Togo. They went on to the river and saw the motor boat cutting through the water. As Togo lighted the lamps they recognized him.

Near by was another dock, where there was a launch owned by fishermen. Landren and Jones got the launch, started it, crept out to the middle of the stream, and went in pursuit.

The motor boat driven by Togo was a speedy craft while the launch of the fishermen was not. Togo landed at the clubhouse to telephone, and was on his way again before Landren and Jones could overhaul him. They followed him down the stream, noted where he finally landed, landed there themselves and took after him.

They were in time to see Togo jump into the taxicab, and Landren overheard his orders to the chauffeur. Togo was not to be blamed for that. The chauffeur was deaf, and he was forced to speak loudly; moreover, he did not suspect anybody else to be in the neighborhood.

It took Landren and Jones some time to get another cab, for they were obliged to go several blocks down the street, telephone for one from an all-night drug store, and wait until it came out from the central part of town.

When the taxi finally arrived they drove as quickly as possible to the address they had heard Togo give, which was nothing more than a street corner. In that section of the city, however, there were not many residences near any one corner, and Landren and Jones began working through elimination.

Hiding behind a clump of brush, they observed a limousine drive up to the curb, three men get out and hurry toward the residence of Bertram Blaine, and afterward saw two other men carry another between them and go up the walk toward the house. Landren and Jones made bold to follow.

They found that the front of the house was not guarded, and they heard voices on the second floor. Slipping into the house, they went through the hall to the bottom of the stairs and stopped there to listen. What they heard was ample.

“The Spider!” Landren gasped. “I'd like to see that bird!”

“What we want to see is that Jap,” Jones reminded him.

“Well, here is where he came, and so here must be the place the boss was going to work,” Landren said. “If we show up now, it'll convince the boss that we're after our man, anyway.”

They went up the stairs slowly, cautiously, and reached the hall on the second floor. They slipped along the hall—and one of the masked men stepped from the room.

Automatics spit fire, bullets whistled. Warwick, Togo, and the others rushed into the hall. Landren and Jones, finding things too hot for them, started down the stairs, and Landren, who was first, fell. Jones tripped over his prostrate body, and Togo and one of the other men grappled with them.

It was a short battle and a decisive victory. Landren and Jones were carried up the stairs and propped against the wall at one end of the hall, while Warwick went in to whisper into The Spider's ear.

“Bring them here!” The Spider said.

Landren and Jones were carried into the room where Bertram Blaine was tied to his chair, and the supercriminal looked them over, and then laughed.

“Poor, would-be criminals!” The Spider said. “What are you doing here?”

“We're after that Jap, if you want to know,” Landren said.

“Ah! So you are the men who decoyed Togo, and afterward felt his fingers at your throats, are you?” The Spider asked. “It interests me to know why you did such a thing.”

“I guess you know, all right,” said Jones.

“I know,” said The Spider, “that you have made a mistake. I know that a certain little deal some of my people have on to-night has attracted the attention of the man for whom you work. But he made a grave mistake. I understand why he decoyed the Japanese away, and why he had other men make an attempt to hold prisoner a member of my band. The mistake he made was in this—that the men he feared did not have orders to engage in that particular bit of work. Understand? The task has been accomplished by others while you men followed a false scent.”

“Well, what you goin' to do with us?” Jones asked.

“I am not interested in you,” The Spider said. “You are small fry. I talk freely, because every man here is a member of my band except one—and he will be unable to reveal anything after to-night. But, since you interested yourselves in my affairs, I suppose there should be some punishment.”

“You'd better be careful!” Landren warned him.

“Bah! You should know with whom you are dealing,” The Spider said. “I am about to set fire to this house, leaving that creature you see tied in the chair to die as the flames spread. It will look better, I think, if the authorities find three bodies in the ruins. They can draw their own conclusions, then. Mr. Blaine, as he is known, has the reputation of being a very eccentric man. It will be supposed that he had mysterious visitors, that there was a quarrel or something of the sort, foul play, possibly robbery, and afterward the fire.”

“You—you mean” Jones gasped.

“Small fry—but you will help in my plan,” The Spider assured him.

Blaine had ceased his sobbing, and now he began shrieking at the supercriminal again.

“I was young—young!” he cried. “Have mercy!”

“You did not have mercy on me. There is but one reward for a traitor,” The Spider reminded him.

He clapped his fat hands together. Two of the masked men carried him in the chair to a place near the door. He whispered to another, and Landren and Jones were seized, bound and gagged with bedclothing, and fastened to other chairs and placed one on each side of Bertram Blaine.

“If you have any prayers to say, Bertram Blaine, say them now,” The Spider said. “Shriek, if you like—for none will hear you. I have gagged these other men, for I do not care to have too much noise, but it is my pleasure that you shriek while the flames are spreading about you.”

Warwick stepped to the supercriminal's side and whispered in his ear.

“Is there not some other way?” he asked. “I cannot endure to see you do such a thing, sir. Think of what it will mean to me to carry the secret all my life. Think what Silvia would think, if she knew!”

“This is my affair!” The Spider said.

“I ask no mercy for that wretch, sir. He deserves what any man can give him. But is there not some other way?”

“Wait,” The Spider said.

He faced Bertram Blaine again.

“I am going to have my men carry me away, Blaine,” he said. “And then they will drench the house with oil, and apply a match. I regret only that I cannot remain in the neighborhood long enough to see the end. This is retribution, Blaine—justice.”

“Mercy—mercy!” Blaine begged again.

Landren and Jones were struggling in a futile effort to free themselves. Their eyes were wide and agony was in their faces. Perspiration stood out on their foreheads.

“It is bad for those two men,” said The Spider, “but that is what they get for trying to interfere with my business. They should have known better. I cannot allow them to go now, of course.”

Jones gurgled, and, at a motion from the supercriminal, one of the men removed the gag.

“Let us go!” Jones said. “We ain't done nothin' to be killed for.”

“And have you relate what you have seen and heard here to-night?” The Spider asked.

“We won't do that—you know we won't!”

“Yes, I know you'll not,” The Spider said. “I was just frightening you a bit. I am going to release you, and you'll forget what you have seen and heard. If you do not you know what to expect.”

“We'll leave town,” Jones promised.

“That will not be necessary, unless you care to do so. I would rather have you return to your employer and tell him for me that he can do as he pleases hereafter. The Spider is disbanding his people and ceasing work. You may tell him that. You will say nothing about this for a very different reason.” The Spider glared at the man who had called himself Jones. “There is a little matter of a murder in Chicago,” he went on. “You know all about it—and so do I. I have your record, you know, and it is all ready to be handed to the police if you do not behave.”

“I'll—I'll do anything you say!” Jones gasped. “I didn't think anybody knew that!”

“As for you,” said The Spider, facing Landren, “I have enough information to send you up for life, if it should be handed to the police. Do you think you can forget what you have seen and heard here to-night?”

Landren, whose gag had not been removed, nodded his head violently.

“Take them down the stairs and keep them there until we have finished,” The Spider instructed two of his men. “And now we'll attend to Bertram Blaine!”