CHAPTER XXXIV. – THE END OF PORLER
Porler and Murphy were taken completely by surprise when confronted by Leo.
On seeing the young gymnast, Mart gave a cry of joy.
“Oh, thank Heaven you have come!”
“Get into the corner, boy!” howled Porler.
“Don’t you speak to him again,” said Leo sharply. “He is no longer your prisoner.”
“Ain’t he? We’ll soon see about that.”
As Porler spoke he advanced upon Leo.
But when the young gymnast brought his weapon up within range of the rascal’s head the latter quickly recoiled.
“You see, Porler, I am armed.”
Murphy, who was completely dumfounded to see Leo, now came forward.
“We are two to one, young feller,” he said warningly. “Yer better go slow.”
“I know my own business,” was Leo’s quiet reply. “Mart!”
“Well?”
“Will you go down and summon help?”
“But you are alone – ”
“Never mind. Get a policeman, or somebody else. I am going to have these rascals arrested.”
“Not much!” howled Porler.
“Let’s down him?” yelled Murphy.
“Back! both of you!”
The two men, however, ran forward, dodging behind Mart as they came on, and closed in on him.
It was an unequal fight.
But Leo fought well, and the boy was not idle.
Mart caught up a chair, and raising it over his head brought it down on Porler’s back.
“Oh! oh! you have broken my back!” yelled the old balloonist.
Scarcely had he spoken when Leo tripped him up.
But now Murphy leaped on the young gymnast, and the pair rolled over on the floor.
He was in a high rage, and he meant to do Leo a serious injury if such a thing was possible.
In the meanwhile Porler arose and pushed Mart from him.
“Help! help!” cried Mart.
He ran out of the room and into the next, the window of which was not fastened, and opening the window continued to cry out.
Then of a sudden he saw a sight that gladdened his heart.
Larry Greson was in sight.
He had followed up the trail from the other end.
“Hurry! hurry!” screamed Mart.
“Mart!” burst out Greson.
“Come up and help Mr. Dunbar!”
“Who is in there?”
“Porler and Murphy!”
Greson ran up on the piazza of the house, and at the same time Mart flew below to let him in.
“Confound the luck!” howled Porler, who had heard Mart speaking to Greson.
“The neighborhood will be in alarm,” added Murphy.
Both men leaped to their feet.
Greson was mounting the stairs three steps at a time, and close behind him came Mart.
The two rascals thought a crowd was advancing to capture them.
Dodging Leo, who gave each a heavy blow as he passed, the two villains rushed out into the hallway.
Porler was too quick for Greson, but Murphy was tripped up.
Before he could arise Leo and his assistant had the fellow a prisoner.
They bound him so that he could not escape.
Then they went after Hank Porler, but he could not be found.
He had dropped out of a rear window on to a shed and disappeared.
In the meantime a policeman arrived.
When he heard the particulars of the affair he willingly took Murphy into custody, and later on the man was sent to jail.
Steps were taken to attach Porler’s balloons and other property, but it was found he had sold all his things.
“He knew he was taking big chances when he went into that underhanded work,” laughed Greson.
“Oh, I trust I shall never see that man again,” said Mart, with a shudder.
Strange to say, the boy’s wish was gratified. Fearful of prosecution, Porler fled to South America, and that was the last heard of him.
Leo and Mart rejoined the circus at a place called Wheatlands, and their friends were heartily glad to see them back, safe and sound.
There was news for both. Professor Ricardo was much better, and on the week following was to return to work. This would put Leo back among the acrobats again, and for this the young gymnast was not sorry.
He did not forget to put in a good word for Mart to Professor Ricardo, and consequently the boy remained in his old place, and Larry Greson was given a situation among the menagerie men, something which suited him better than did ballooning.
CHAPTER XXXV. – A COWARDLY ATTACK
In the meantime it must not be supposed that Hank Griswold had forgotten his compact with Nathan Dobb.
The man had been anxious to put his plot against Leo into operation at once, but Providence willed otherwise. Griswold was taken down with rheumatism and for several months could scarcely walk.
But now he was better, and one day started west to earn the money the squire of Hopsville had promised him.
As has been related, Delbier, the expert swimmer, and Leo had become warm friends. One morning the performer called Leo aside.
“Say, Leo, have you any enemies besides that Porler?” he asked.
“I don’t know but what I have,” laughed the young gymnast.
“Don’t laugh; I am serious.”
“Why, what’s up?”
“For the past two days I have noticed an ugly-looking man hanging around, watching you,” went on Delbier earnestly.
“Watching me?”
“Yes, and if I’m not mistaken, he follows you wherever you go.”
“What kind of a looking man?”
As well as he could, Delbier described the individual. But Leo was not thinking of Hank Griswold – indeed, he hardly knew the man – and he shook his head.
“You must imagine it, Delbier.”
“I guess not. Better be on your guard.”
“All right,” and Leo laughed.
When in the country Leo had grown tired of the quietness, but now when every day brought fresh bustle and confusion he was glad enough to escape the crowd and go for a quiet walk.
His course took him along a country road which presently followed the bank of a mountain stream.
It was a clear stream and full of fish, and Leo much regretted not having brought along a line and hook.
He wandered on and on until the town was left a good two miles behind.
Then he sat down on a rock overlooking the stream to rest.
As he did so he fancied he saw somebody following him.
The individual drew behind some bushes.
Leo at once thought of what Delbier had said.
He resolved to be on his guard, and so kept his eyes open.
But nearly half an hour went by, and as no one appeared Leo began to think he was mistaken.
A little later the boy started across an open field not far from the brook.
Then from out of the bushes crawled a man. It was Hank Griswold.
Cautiously he came behind Leo.
Presently our hero soon stumbled across the opening to an old well.
“Hullo, this is dangerous!” he murmured. “It ought to be closed.”
A footstep sounded near at hand. He turned, and on the instant received a shove that hurled him backward into the opening!
For the minute Leo felt that his end must be at hand.
Down he went into the dark and deep well, with the dirt and brush on top of him.
Had he fallen to the rocky bottom he would most certainly have been killed.
But, fortunately, when less than ten feet had been passed, his clothing caught on some projecting rocks.
Instantly he grasped the rocks with his hands.
The dirt, falling on him, nearly choked him.
He steadied himself with difficulty and managed to kick himself clear from what was above.
The dirt and brush sliding past him, he felt safer, although his position was still an extremely perilous one.
He looked up and saw the evil face of Hank Griswold peering down into the well.
It was too dark for the villain to see the boy, and the young gymnast remained perfectly quiet.
Griswold heard the dirt strike the bottom of the well with a loud sound.
He laughed softly to himself.
“Done for that trip!” he muttered to himself. “Good enough!”
Hank Griswold waited for a few minutes, and then, apparently satisfied, hurried off.
As soon as he disappeared Leo looked about for some means by which to get out of his present position.
To an ordinary individual this would have been an impossible undertaking, for the sides of the well were very slippery.
Leo’s gymnastic training now stood him in good stead.
Cautiously he made his way from rock to rock, taking chances more than once that would have made many a boy shudder, grow dizzy and fall.
At last the top of the well was reached once more.
Griswold had disappeared, but he resolved to follow the man’s trail, if the thing could be done.
“Ought to have one of our Indians along,” he thought. There were sixteen of the redmen traveling with the “Greatest Show on Earth.”
But the path through the brush was plain enough. It led to the road which Leo had originally pursued when coming out for a walk.
When our hero reached the road he saw an old farmer driving along. Evidently the old man was just coming from town.
“Hold on, sir, I want to talk to you!” cried Leo.
“What’s the matter?” asked the farmer, surveying our hero’s torn and muddy clothing in curiosity.
“Did you meet a man on his way to town – a man with a queer walk?”
“I did.”
“Take me to that man and I’ll give you a five dollar bill.”
The old farmer was greatly astonished.
“Who be you?” he questioned cautiously.
Leo told him.
The farmer at once agreed to run down Hank Griswold, if it could be done.
Leo jumped into the wagon and off they went.
The chase, however, was a useless one. Griswold had taken to a side road and could not be found.
“But I’ll catch him some day,” said Leo to Carl, “and then I’ll make him tell why he attacked me.”
“Perhaps he was hired to do it,” ventured the young magician.
“That is what I think,” returned Leo, with a grave shake of his head.
Carl was doing very well. He had several new tricks, some of which he thought would please the children. One was called “Milk or Water,” and was brought out the day after Leo had the adventure just described.
“I will now show you how easy it is to change water into milk,” said the young magician as he mounted the platform in the circus ring. “Will some one kindly hand me a glass of water? I have the milk here,” and he took up a small pitcher and passed it around for inspection.
The glass of water was brought and he placed it on the table and covered it with a handkerchief. Then he tapped the glass and also the pitcher.
Removing the handkerchief, he held up the glass. Sure enough, there was the white milk, as plain as day. Taking up the pitcher, Carl turned it upside down to show it was empty.
“Now we’ll change them back,” he said. Another tap, and lo! the glass was full of water and the milk was in the pitcher again.
A burst of applause followed.
This trick was simplicity itself. The pitcher really had milk in it, and the glass was full of water all the time.
When Carl covered the glass with a handkerchief he slipped into the water a bit of white cardboard, which standing upright made the water look like milk.
While the audience were inspecting the glass as he held it up he pressed over the top of the pitcher, inside, a circular card which exactly fitted the opening. This enabled him to turn the pitcher over for a second without spilling any milk.
To turn the milk in the glass to water again, he had but to remove the card. The card in the pitcher was also removed as the receptacle was handed around for inspection after the trick was done.
CHAPTER XXXVI. – ON THE ELEVATED TRACKS
Ten days later the circus reached the great lakes and settled in Chicago for a week.
On the following day Leo was strolling down State Street when, happening to glance up, he saw Hank Griswold coming from a building with a large letter in his hand.
As quick as a flash he made after the man.
Leo was almost up to Griswold when the latter saw him coming and started up the street on a run.
Coming to a side street, he turned up that thoroughfare and continued on his way for a dozen blocks or more.
Leo tried to keep him in sight, but was unsuccessful, and after a search lasting half an hour he mounted to the elevated road, to take a train to Jackson Park.
As he went up he did not imagine that Hank Griswold was watching him.
There was a crowd at the station, and this kept increasing, as the train was late.
Leo stood close to the edge of the platform. Just in front and below him were the glistening tracks.
With a rumble the train came in sight.
When it was but a few yards away the young gymnast felt a sudden shove from behind.
He lost his balance and fell from the platform directly in front of the oncoming locomotive.
To the onlookers it seemed that the boy must surely be killed.
He rolled fairly and squarely upon the railroad tracks, and the oncoming locomotive was barely a dozen feet from him.
The engineer, who was preparing to stop, jerked the lever to come to an instantaneous halt, but it was of no avail.
On and on rolled the heavy engine, with its long train of cars.
“The boy will be killed!”
“Oh! oh! Isn’t that awful!”
Many turned away, unable to endure the awful sight.
But the crowd made one mistake.
They did not know that Leo, as an acrobat, was used to making lightning-like movements whenever necessary.
His profession now stood him in good stead.
As he came down he had no chance to use his feet.
But his hands and arms were ready, and like a flash he turned a handspring and swept out of the way just as the ponderous locomotive rolled past.
The monster brushed his left leg, but he was unharmed, and in a second more had reached the platform on the opposite side of the street.
Although attacked so unexpectedly, Leo did not lose his presence of mind.
“That was that rascal’s work!” he muttered to himself.
Reasoning that the man would try to escape from the scene, the young gymnast rushed down the stairs into the street.
He was right; for scarcely was the pavement touched than he beheld Griswold on the opposite side walking along at a rapid gait.
“Stop!”
Griswold looked around in horror. His intended victim was not dead! In abject fear he took to his heels as though Leo’s ghost was on his track.
Up one side street and down another dashed man and boy, until, coming to an avenue, the man boarded a street car and was lost to view.
“The villain!” muttered Leo, as he slowed up to catch his breath. “I must be on my guard in the future.”
He hunted around and brushed up his clothes. Then, as there seemed nothing else to do, he walked to where he had left his friends.
Here he told his story to Carl, who listened in amazement.
“He is certainly after your life,” said Carl. “In the future you ought to go armed.”
“I wonder if he can be hired by any one in Hopsville?” mused Leo.
“That remains to be seen.”
“I’m going to capture him the next time we meet,” concluded Leo, with a determined look in his outspoken face.
Mart also heard about the attack and came to Leo full of fear.
“Oh, Leo, do be careful in the future,” he pleaded. “What if that bad man should take your life!”
Two days passed, and as the young gymnast neither saw nor heard of Griswold, he began again to feel a bit easier in mind.
But one afternoon, while walking in the vicinity of the lake, Leo’s attention was attracted to a small steam tug which was tying up at a wharf.
“Look! look!” he shouted to Carl, who was with him. “It is Griswold, and Broxton, who was discharged from the circus for drunkenness, is with him.”
“Shall I call a policeman?”
“Yes. I’ll watch them.”
Carl hurried off. Ere he had taken a dozen steps Griswold caught sight of Leo and whispered something the young gymnast could not catch.
Both rascals were on the point of leaving the steam tug, but now they changed their minds and ordered the captain to cut loose and move on.
“Stop!” called out Leo, and ran to the edge of the wharf.
“Go to thunder!” muttered Broxton.
“We’re not to be caught to-day,” added Hank Griswold.
In another second the steam tug was clear of the stringpiece of the wharf.
Leo hesitated not a moment, but, taking a flying leap, landed on her forward deck. With angry yells Griswold and Broxton rushed on him.
“We’ve got him now!” said the former. “Down the lake with you, captain, and be quick!”
“Stop the tug, those men are criminals,” said Leo.
The tug captain paid no attention. He was in the pay of the other men.
Griswold had a stick in his hand, and now he aimed a savage blow at Leo’s head.
The young gymnast warded it off as well as he was able, but he was no match for both men, and soon they had him down.
“A rope!” roared Griswold, and when it was brought he and Broxton and one of the tug hands proceeded to bind Leo’s hands and feet.
This accomplished, the young gymnast was thrown into a dark locker. The door was shut and locked upon him, and the tug proceeded on her way at full steam.
CHAPTER XXXVII. – THE CAPTURE OF GRISWOLD
“What will you do with him?”
It was Broxton who asked the question.
He and Griswold, with whom he had struck up an acquaintanceship by accident, sat in the little cabin of the steam tug which was flying down Lake Michigan at her utmost speed.
The rascally fellow referred of course to Leo, who still lay bound in the dark locker.
“I’ve got a good mind to tie a weight to his neck and heave him overboard,” growled Griswold.
“It won’t do to let him go free, that’s certain. He would have us both locked up at the first chance.”
“Certainly.”
“Who was with him on the wharf?”
“I don’t know.”
The two rascals talked the matter over for some time, but could come to no conclusion regarding the young gymnast.
They wished to get him out of the way, but hardly dared to undertake such a high-handed proceeding before the captain and crew of the tug.
“I have it,” said Griswold, half an hour later. “See that town over there?”
“Yes.”
“Let us tie up there. I’ll go ashore and hire a close coach and drive it myself. We can take him inside and – ”
He did not finish, but his half-drunken companion understood.
Their victim should never get away from them alive.
The tug captain was given orders, and soon a landing was approached.
After tying up Hank Griswold hurried ashore. He procured a coach with difficulty, and it was some time before he appeared on the box, whip in hand.
Then the two men went to the locker, intending to drag Leo forth, gag him, and roll him up as though he were a bundle of clothes.
“Gone!” burst from Griswold’s lips.
He spoke the truth. The locker was empty.
“How did he manage it?” queried Broxton, in deep perplexity.
Griswold looked dumfounded for a moment. Then he grated his teeth in rage.
“Fools that we are!” he shouted. “To forget that he is a gymnast. Why, he must have freed himself within a minute after we locked him in.”
“By thunder! that’s so. But how did he get out of the locker?”
“I don’t know.”
“The door was locked, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
An examination followed, but the two men could not solve the mystery connected with Leo’s escape.
We will let our reader into the secret.
As Griswold said, the boy slipped from his bonds with ease.
This done, he lit a match he had in his pocket and began an examination of his cramped prison.
The sides of the locker were solid, but in the flooring a board was loose, and he pulled it up.
Underneath was a small opening and into this he crawled. The board was put in place again, and finding a nail, Leo succeeded in fastening it.
Crawling around in the dark and wet the young gymnast soon came to an opening leading up near the engine-room of the tug.
He came up, and finding a sheltering nook proceeded to secrete himself.
He could easily have dropped overboard and swum ashore, but by so doing he would have lost track of the rascals he had determined to bring to justice.
After leaving the locker Griswold and Broxton made an examination of the tug from end to end.
Several times they came close to where Leo was lying, and he fairly held his breath until they passed on.
At last the two rascals gave up the hunt in disgust.
“He has slipped us,” said Broxton. “Better return that coach and move on.”
This was done and soon the steam tug was ten miles away.
A landing was made that night at another place, and the two evil-minded men put up at the leading hotel.
Leo had followed them ashore and now he felt he had them just where he wanted them.
He hurried to the nearest telegraph office and sent a message to Carl to come on at once.
This done, he called on the chief of police, and a long talk followed.
Without delay the party, accompanied by two policemen, hurried to the hotel at which the rascals were stopping. They ascended the stairs and Leo knocked on the proper door.
“What’s wanted?” came from Hank Griswold.
“There’s a fire next door,” said Leo in an assumed voice. “Please dress and leave the hotel as soon as possible.”
“A fire!” came from Broxton, as he leaped out of bed.
In three minutes the two men had their clothes on and then they threw open the door.
“Who – what – Leo Dunbar!”
The men were dumfounded at the sight of the young gymnast, Carl and the police.
“The game is up,” cried Leo. “Officers, arrest them.”
“You rat!” cried Griswold.
He struck Leo in the face and then tried to dash past the youth.
He was successful, and reached the stairs before the policemen could stop him.
Like a flash Leo recovered and made after the man.
As he reached the top of the stairs Griswold struck the bottom steps.
Whizz! Leo took a flying leap and landed on the rascal’s shoulders.
Down went the fellow in a heap. He gave a groan and then a yell of pain.
“You have broken my leg!” he screamed. “Oh, my ribs are all caved in!”
He spoke the truth in one particular – his left leg was broken and he was unable to make further resistance.
In the meantime Carl and the policeman had captured Broxton and handcuffed him.
A little later, before the guests in the hotel could ascertain the cause of the disturbance, the two prisoners were taken to jail.
Then Barton Reeve appeared on the scene.
“I am satisfied Griswold was hired to attack me,” said Leo.
“Can’t you get him to confess?”
“He pretends it is all a mistake.”
“Let us both talk to him.”
“Oh, wait; I wonder if the police searched him,” went on the young gymnast suddenly.
“We can soon find out,” rejoined Barton Reeve.
They questioned the captain in charge. Yes, Griswold had been searched, and his stuff, quite a heap, lay in a lump on a near-by desk.
There was some money, a knife, several keys and a notebook. Leo began to search through the notebook. He uttered a wild cry.
“Look here!” he ejaculated.
He had found an entry concerning the money Griswold was to get from Nathan Dobb for his dastardly work.
“Come with me,” he went on, and led the way to Hank Griswold’s cell.
At first they could not make the rascal talk at all.
But after awhile Griswold began to think he was in a terrible dilemma.
“Look here, supposing I confess,” he said, “will you be easy on me?”
“Perhaps I will,” replied Leo. “One thing is certain, I won’t be easy if you don’t confess.”
“I was coaxed into this job,” growled the villain.
“And who coaxed you to do it?” asked Leo quickly.
“Nathan Dobb, the squire at Hopsville.”
“Why does he want to get Leo out of the way?” questioned Barton Reeve.
“So as he can keep the thousands coming to the boy,” was Hank Griswold’s reply, which filled Leo with astonishment and pleasure.