CHAPTER XXII
MR. BASCOMB HEARS BAD NEWS
When Evarts used the word "people" he employed it only in a general sense.He had seen no one but Tom Reade, but Tom was the one person in the worldwhom the ex-foreman wanted most to 'see' at a disadvantage.
"Now, I have you!" Evarts croaked hoarsely, rushing in, flourishing hisweapon, then letting the muzzle drop to the position of aim.
Dick Prescott, unseen, stirred almost under the fellow's feet.
Flop! Bump! Caught by the legs, by that famous football player, DickPrescott, Evarts simply had to go down on his back.
In the same instant Reade leaped, then bent over the prostrate foe.
Evarts was too much dazed to resist much. Tom snatched the revolver outof his hand.
Sambo, beholding this much, came to a dismayed stop for an instant.
"Dick, it's your trade to know how to handle this tool better than I can,"Tom cried, passing the captured revolver to Prescott, who swiftly receivedit as he rose. "I'm afraid," continued the young engineer, "that it'sgoing to be necessary to kill the negro."
"Wow! Woof!" uttered Sambo Ebony. It didn't take that villain an instantto decide on flight. Bending low, the black man ran off with franticspeed.
Dick took a step forward---only one, for Evarts furiously gripped at oneof the young army officer's ankles, bringing him down to his knees.
"Hang you, you hound!" ground out Tom, in a rage, as he threw himselfathwart of the ex-foreman. Within the next thirty seconds Evarts receiveda swift, fearful pummeling.
"Let up, Mr. Reade! Let up!" cried the wretch. "I'll behave myself."
"I'll wager you will," retorted the young engineer grimly, as he grippedEvarts by the coat collar and drew him to his feet.
Dick was up and had run ahead some distance. But the time that had beengained for the black man had proved sufficient. Sambo, was now out ofsight, nor did he send back any sound to guide his pursuers.
"It may have to be a long hunt for the negro," remarked Tom Reade whenLieutenant Dick stepped back to state the case. "Stand by me and shootthis fellow down in his tracks if he tries to get away."
"Why, what are you going to do to me?" quaked the ex-foreman.
"It's back to jail for yours," Tom informed him crisply.
"Then the laugh will be on you," jeered Evarts. "I'm out on bail---all inregular form."
"You're not on bail on the latest charge against you---attempted murderousassault," Reade rejoined. "Nor will any court allow you out on bail againwhen Mr. Prescott and I testify to hearing you tell the negro that youwere going to jump your bail."
"Humph! That was all a joke," blustered Evarts.
"All right," nodded Tom. "Explain the joke to the judge, if you can finda judge who's a good and willing listener. What you'll find, at this time,is that a hundred thousand dollars' worth of bail won't get you out ofjail. Start along with you," Tom wound up, shaking Evarts by the arm thathe gripped. "If this sneak tries to get away, Dick, bring him down with abullet."
"I'm ready enough to do it," Prescott agreed.
A sudden great change came over the ex-foreman. At first he threatened.Then he begged to be turned loose, promising nothing but the best behaviorin the future.
"Stop all your nonsense," ordered Reade finally. "There's only one properplace on earth for you, Evarts, and that's behind the bars. Now, moveright along, or I'll give you a worse walloping every time you stop orargue."
Finding that nothing would avail with these determined captors theex-foreman relapsed into sulks. However, he kept walking straight ahead,obeying every order addressed to him.
Tom stopped briefly at the cottage. Mr. Prenter was not there, andHarry Hazelton had turned in. Nicolas was lying on a blanket on theporch.
"You'll have to keep awake until I get back, anyway, Nicolas, and keepyour eyes open," Tom informed the Mexican. "Sambo is at large again, andI'm afraid he may turn up here."
"I shall know how to take care of him, Senor," grinned the Mexican holdingup his right forefinger.
"That wouldn't help you, this time," Tom retorted dryly. "Mr. Sambo Ebonyhas a revolver with him. Don't let him get a shot at you; he'd be onlytoo glad to even the score. Now, Dick, I guess we'd better get Evarts overto the jail."
Away started the chums and their prisoner while Nicolas went inside towarn Harry.
Not so very much later Tom and Dick turned Evarts over to the police inBlixton. Evarts was locked up on the new charge. The revolver taken fromhim was turned over to the police as evidence. The chums also gave theirinformation that they had overheard the ex-foreman tell the negro that heintended to jump bail. But the greatest of all was the news of the plot torescue the gambler prisoners now in jail.
Then the chums started back to camp.
"I noticed," said Lieutenant Prescott, in a low tone, "that you didn'tmention the conversation between Bascomb and Evarts."
"I hadn't any right to," Tom said simply. "If Mr. Bascomb once had troublein his life, but is living honestly now, it would be criminal of me toexpose such a secret that he wouldn't want known. Mr. Bascomb's past isnone of my business."
"I'm mighty glad to hear you talk that way about it," said Prescott,resting a hand on Reade's shoulder.
"Why?" demanded Tom rather bluntly. "Did you think that I could feel anyother way about it?"
"But Evarts is pretty sure to talk a lot about Bascomb, now," hinted theyoung army officer.
"If he does," sighed Tom, "I don't know that I can think of any way tostop the fellow."
"Then you don't believe that Mr. Bascomb's evil record of past yearsaffects his honesty now?" Dick went on after a long pause.
"I don't believe it," Tom answered with unusual emphasis. "If I did itwould be as much as if I said that a fellow who once makes a wrong stepmust never hope to get back into the right path again. Mr. Prenter, I amcertain, is an honest man and an unusually keen one. He is satisfied totrust Mr. Bascomb as president of the company. But, if Evarts is somesort of family connection of Bascomb's, and if he has often threatened totell all about Mr. Bascomb's past history, you can imagine the terror thatpoor Mr. Bascomb has lived in for years."
"If I were in Bascomb's place," Dick declared positively, "I would gobefore the board of directors and tell them the whole story. Then no oneelse could ever hold any power over me."
"I guess that's the way all of us think we would act if we'd meet ablackmailer," nodded Reade. "Yet I guess most of the victims, when there'sa sad, true story that could be told about them, pay the blackmailer andso secure silence."
"Which may be another way," mused the young army officer, "of saying thatmost men are cowards. Or, maybe, it's another way, after all, of sayingthat the man who does anything very wrong or crooked is generally such acoward at heart that he'll spend his savings in keeping his secret from theworld."
"Yet Bascomb must have shown considerable bravery in meeting Evarts'sdemands," suddenly suggested Reade. "Otherwise, Mr. Bascomb would now bea poor man and Evarts would have spent all of Bascomb's money. Heretofore,I imagine, Evarts hasn't been able to blackmail his relative for anythingmuch more substantial than a good job. I hear that Evarts has been drawinggood pay from the Melliston Company for something more than fouryears---and Evarts isn't a very useful man, at that."
"Then, after four years of easy berths, no wonder Evarts hates you, Tom,for having bounced him out," smiled Dick Prescott.
"I'm afraid I'm going to do worse than bounce the fellow out of a job,"sighed Reade. "I'm afraid I've helped head him for prison for a term ofa good many long years."
"Evarts did that much for himself," Prescott argued. "I wouldn't wastemuch worry over the fellow."
"I suppose it's my way to worry over a dog with a sore paw," answered Readethoughtfully, "Certainly Evarts has done some mean things against me, andwithout any just cause; but I don't like the thought of his having to belocked up, away from sunlight, joy and life, for so many
years as I'mafraid are coming to him."
Arrived at camp, Tom found Mr. Bascomb walking back and forth on the porchof the engineers' house.
"You're up late, sir," was Tom's friendly greeting to the president.
"Yes, Reade; I can't sleep to-night," said Mr. Bascomb wearily. "I cameover here to talk with Prenter. Where is he?"
"Asleep, I imagine, sir," Tom answered.
"Wrong," replied President Bascomb. "I've already been inside, butPrenter isn't in the house."
"Then perhaps he thought it too lively around here," laughed Reade, "andwent over to Blixton to sleep at the hotel."
Mr. Bascomb didn't reply to this, but puffed hard at the black cigar hewas smoking and sending up clouds of smoke.
But the president of the Melliston Company became instantly more distractedwhen Tom Reade began an account of the capture of Evarts, and his jailing,and the escape of Mr. Sambo Ebony.
Presently Bascomb began to puff harder than ever at his cigar.
"Reade," he finally blurted out, "how long were you hiding there beforeEvarts found you there?"
"Some little time," Tom admitted vaguely.
More clouds of cigar smoke ascended; then, shaking, and his face a sicklywhite and green, the president inquired:
"Reade, were you there---you and Mr. Prescott---at the time when I talkedwith Evarts on that very spot to-night?"
There was no use in evading the question, so engineer Reade answered in astraightforward manner:
"Yes, sir. Mr. Prescott and I were there."
"Then---then---y-y-you heard all of my talk with Evarts?"
"Yes, sir."
Bascomb's teeth began to chatter so that he was forced to steady his jaws.Tom and Dick looked aside, pitying the man for his evident anguish of mind.
At last the president steadied himself enough to speak.
"Reade, I know I haven't been a very good friend of yours, and I eventried to work you out of this contract altogether. Now, you know mysecret, and I'm in your power!"