One look over his shoulder the other took, then broke into a run.
But Jack was younger, more agile, with better wind. Realizing this, the fugitive wheeled around the corner into an alley.
It was a short one, leading to some sort of a stable yard. Yet, though Jack Benson reached that yard in about record time, he gave a gasp of dismay. For the well-dressed fugitive was already out of sight, nor did noise from any quarter show the line of his further flight.
"Confound him, I"m not going to lose him as quickly and easily as that!" raged young Benson.
"Looking for your pop?" demanded a laughing, broad-faced woman, appearing at a back door that opened into the yard.
"Yes," declared Jack, pulsing. "Which way--"
"He went in there," nodded the woman, pointing to the nearly closed door of a small barn.
It might have been that the woman was purposely deceiving him, to aid the fugitive, but to that suspicion Jack had no time to give thought.
He sprang into the barn to find it empty. He stood there, panting, for a moment, growing sick at heart with disappointment.
Then he heard a slight rustling on a haymow overhead, that was reached only by a ladder. Up that ladder rushed the submarine boy, springing into the hay.
As he did so, the well-dressed fugitive darted out from cover at another point in the mow, leaping straight down to the floor. After him sprang Jack Benson, and landed full upon him.
But the fugitive, by a supreme effort fear, rose, shaking off the boy, and started to dart out into the open.
"No, you don"t--Mr. Arthur Miller!" roared the submarine boy, making a bound after him.
So much force did Jack put into that leap that, missing, he fell to the floor on his hands and knees. The moment thus gained for the fugitive was enough to give the latter time to dart out, slamming the door shut after him.
"This chase doesn"t stop until it turns out my way!" muttered young Benson, doggedly. He had expected to find the door secured, but it was not. He yanked it open.
The fugitive was crossing the yard, just reaching the alley, when the same woman who had first spoken to Jack again opened her door. In one hand she held a mop. This she threw with such aim or luck that it pa.s.sed between the running man"s legs, tripping him.
And then Jack Benson piled upon him in earnest, first s.n.a.t.c.hing up the mop and brandishing it over the fugitive"s head.
"I don"t want to hurt your cranium any," flared up Captain Jack. "But I"m going to do it if I have to."
"Confound you, woman!" roared the discomfited rascal.
"Arthur Miller"s voice!" cried Jack, joyously. "Now, I know what we had only guessed so far! Now, see here, my fine fellow, you might as well give in, for I"m not going to quit until I land you--"
Miller had been lying quietly enough for a few moments. Now, however, he suddenly squirmed about, catching Jack by the ankles with both hands.
Down went the submarine boy, flopped by a trick that he had little expected.
"We"ll see whether you"ve got me!" clicked the scoundrel, leaping to his feet and making for the street.
"Thank you for your mop, ma"am," Jack called back, pantingly, as he gave chase. It annoyed him to have Miller prove so slippery, and he was filled with dread lest the defaulter should wind up by getting clean away.
Singing s.n.a.t.c.hes of song, two sailors pa.s.sed on the sidewalk, just at the head of the alleyway.
"Look what"s coming," roared one, goodnaturedly, catching at his mate"s hand. Thus, halted, they formed an effective barrier of brawn in the way of the first runner.
"Let me through! That wretch wants to kill me!" gasped Miller.
"We won"t let him," replied one of the sailors, rea.s.suringly.
"Hold him! The police want him!" implored Jack.
"Hold on, both of you," admonished one of the sailors, grabbing at Miller, while the other sailor placed himself so as to prevent the submarine boy from a possible attack. "One of you is lying. Which one is it?"
"Well," grinned Jack, rea.s.sured, "I"m not afraid to have you take us both before the nearest officer of the law. But I guess that man is afraid of such a test."
"Sounds like a straightforward answer," observed the other Jack Tar.
"This man," declared young Benson, "is Arthur Miller, wanted by the law for looting part of his ward"s fortune and running away with the rest."
"It"s a lie!" challenged Miller, hoa.r.s.ely.
"Then ask him," proposed Jack, crisply, "why he"s wearing a black wig, and under that has iron-gray hair that has been dyed brown? Why he shaved his beard oft?"
"Do you know the answer?" demanded the sailor who held Miller. The other sailor lifted Miller"s new straw hat, s.n.a.t.c.hing off the wig.
"Guilty, as charged," he grinned.
"Now, hold on to him, and march him along until you meet the first policeman," urged Jack Benson. "If you do that, I"m very certain that my employer, Jacob Farnum, builder of the "Pollard" submarine boat, will remember you both handsomely."
"That sounds good," laughed one of the seamen.
"And here comes an officer now," cried Captain Jack, looking down the street as far as the next corner. "See how your prisoner trembles.
Would an innocent man act so?"
CHAPTER XXIV
CONCLUSION
Within three minutes Arthur Miller stood before the desk at a station house. In less than twenty minutes Messrs. Farnum and Pollard had been found. They hurried to the police station, confirming the identification of Arthur Miller. He was locked up.
"It"s a big thing you"ve helped to do, lads," Jacob Farnum a.s.sured the two strong young sailors. "You"re ent.i.tled to some of the fruits of your work. How will this do?"
Whereupon he pressed upon each Jack Tar a couple of twenty-dollar bills.
"We"ve a couple of hours of sh.o.r.e leave left to us," grinned one of the sailors. "Is there anyone else you want caught, friend?"
By the time that Farnum, Pollard and Captain Jack had returned to the pier they found a midshipman awaiting them.
"Admiral Bentley"s compliments, gentlemen," said the midshipman. "He begs you to go to him aboard the flagship. He has information of importance to communicate to you concerning the missing steward."