Read A Young Inventor's Pluck; or, The Mystery of the Willington Legacy Page 21


  CHAPTER XIX.

  IN CORRIGAN'S POWER

  For the moment after Corrigan made his assertion that Deb must do as hesaid, the terrified girl could not speak. She stared at the man interror.

  "Wha--what do you mean?" she gasped at last.

  "You heard what I said," he answered coolly. "I want no nonsense fromyou either."

  "But--but--what are you treating me so for?"

  "That's my business, Miss Willington."

  "And I must consider myself your prisoner?" she added, growing more palethan ever.

  "That's it."

  "You have no right to keep me here."

  "Perhaps not, but you must remember that might makes right in somecases."

  "Where is my brother Jack? I do not believe that you have told thetruth about him."

  "If you don't believe me, why do you want me to answer your questions?"he returned with a wicked grin on his unshaven face.

  "You have harmed Jack in some way--I am sure of it!"

  "No, no! To tell you honestly I haven't the least idea where he is,"said Corrigan hastily.

  Under no circumstances did he wish to stand for the crimes which hisbrother-in-law had committed. As it was, he felt that he had enough toanswer for on his own account.

  There was an awkward pause after this. Then of a sudden Deb started toscream, but he quickly clapped his hand over her mouth.

  "None of that!" he said, roughly. "If you won't be quiet, do you knowwhat I'll have to do?"

  "I guess you are mean enough to do almost anything!" burst out poor Deb.

  "I'll have to gag you, that's what. I won't have you yelling for help,remember that!"

  "But I do not wish to remain here!" insisted Deb, desperately.

  "Oh, pshaw! I won't hurt you. Sit down and keep quiet."

  But the girl could not compose herself and began to walk up and down themill floor. She wished to get to the door and edged in that direction,but Corrigan quickly headed her off.

  "You come with me," he said, presently. "I ain't going to trust youdown here any more."

  "I shan't go a step with you," she answered, vehemently. "O, Mr.Corrigan, please let me go! Please do!" And she clasped her hands andheld them out toward him.

  "Don't cut up so, Miss Willington. As I said before, I shan't harm ahair of your head. But I must make you stay here for a while. Now comewith me."

  "But where do you wish me to go?"

  "There is a loft overhead. I must lock you up there, but only for alittle while."

  "But why are you doing this?"

  "As I said before, that must remain my business. Come."

  She shook her head.

  "I--I cannot!" she cried, and began to weep.

  Muttering something under his breath the villain caught her by the arms,just as he had caught her when he had come for the model, and in a tricehe was carrying her up to the loft. She struggled as best she could butthis availed her nothing.

  "Now you keep quiet, or I'll surely gag you," he said, as he set herdown on the dusty floor. "If you start up any kind of a racket it willbe the worse for you."

  Having thus delivered himself, Corrigan went below again, closing thedoor to the loft behind him and fastened one of the bolts which wasthere to hold it in place.

  Left to herself, Deb stood dazed for a moment in the center of thefloor. Then she tottered to an empty box standing near and sank uponthis, the picture of misery and despair.

  What should she do? What could she do?

  Over and over she asked herself the questions, but without reaching asatisfying answer. She was the prisoner of a wicked man, and to getaway from him appeared impossible.

  The loft was very dusty, and from overhead hung huge cobwebs full ofdirt and spiders. It was quite dark, for the only window was a littleaffair overlooking the river and the four tiny panes of this were thickwith grime, the accumulation of years.

  At last she arose, and with a long-drawn sigh made her way toward thewindow. It was nailed fast and could not be raised, so she had tocontent herself with scraping some of the dirt from the glass andlooking through the spots thus afforded.

  She could see but little, and nothing which gave her satisfaction.Below her was the broad and swift-flowing river, and beyond was a grassybank, backed up by brush and tall trees. No boat was in sight, nor anyhuman being.

  She listened attentively, and not hearing Corrigan began to wonder if hehad left the building.

  "If he has I must escape somehow," she told herself. "I wonder if Ican't pry open that door?"

  She knelt over the door and tried it with her bare hands. But this wasnot sufficient, and getting up she looked around for something whichmight prove useful to her. In a corner of the loft rested a rusty ironbar, somewhat sharpened at one end. She brought this forth and afterinspecting it felt certain that it would prove just what was needed.

  Approaching the trapdoor she called out softly:

  "Mr. Corrigan! Mr. Corrigan, are you down there?" And then, receivingno answer, she went on: "Mr. Corrigan, I must speak to you. Won't youplease listen?"

  Still the silence continued, and now her heart arose within her. Hemust certainly have gone away, and if that was so, now was her time toescape!

  Trembling with anxiety, Deb began to work away on the door with the ironbar. At last she got the end of the bar in the crack of the door, andthen she began to pry the door upwards. At first it refused to budge,but suddenly the bolt gave way and then the door came open with ease.

  She was at liberty, or at least liberty was within her grasp, and withher heart thumping madly in her breast, she began to descend to thefloor below, bar in hand. Once she thought she heard a noise outsideand stopped short. What if that awful man should be coming back! Butthe noise ceased and was not repeated, and she went on and soon stood atthe spot where he had first made her a prisoner.

  The door to the roadway was open, and poor Deb could hardly resist thetemptation to fly forth at the top of her speed. But then sheremembered that Corrigan might be within easy distance of the mill. Ifthat was so, and he caught sight of her, he would surely make after her.

  "I must watch my chance, and if he is around, I must get away on thesly," was what she told herself. Curiously enough, while up in theloft, she had not discovered Jack's model, which was tucked away out ofher sight.

  With bated breath she tiptoed her way to the open doorway and peeredforth. No one was in sight on the road, nor at the water's edge nearthe mill. All was as silent as a tomb, save for the distant rushing ofthe water over the rocks.

  Waiting no longer, Debt left the mill and started for the road. She wasstill terribly frightened and ran on as if some great demon was afterher trying to clutch her shoulder. In her agitation she did not noticea tree root growing in her pathway, and catching her foot in this, shepitched headlong on the stones and grass.

  It was a cruel fall, and as she fell she could not keep back a cry ofalarm, followed by one of pain, for her elbow was hurt not a little.

  At the cry there was a crashing in the bushes overlooking the river at apoint above the mill, and a moment later Corrigan appeared. He had goneout on a point of land to see if he could catch sight anywhere of AndyMosey.

  "What! did you get away?" he roared.

  "Let me go!" screamed Deb. "Oh, my elbow! Let me go!"

  "Let you go nothing!" he answered, and caught hold of her once more."Come back with me! Come back this minute!"

  "No, no!" she moaned. "I--I don't want to go back!"

  "But you shall go back," he answered. And despite her struggles helifted her into his arms once more and returned with her to the mill.