The Dreadnought Boys on Aero Service

"You don't know what I'd dare," retorted Chance; "I hate you, Ned Strong, and now it's my chance to get even with you and with your butting-in chum."

"Come, don't talk any more nonsense," rejoined Ned, "I can make allowances for a small nature actuated by motives of meanness and jealousy. But it's about time to end this nonsense. We'll be late for lights out if we don't all get back. If you'll come to your proper minds and end this foolishness, I'll promise not to report anything about to-night's work, unless questions are asked, and then I'll have to tell the truth."

Merritt had been talking apart with the two others, whom we know were Herr Muller and Bill Kennell, but whose identity was, of course, a mystery to the boys. He now came forward. He was just in time to catch Ned's last words.

"Maybe you won't get a chance to tell the truth or anything else, Ned Strong," he said; "as for injuring us with the navy, you couldn't do that if you tried. We're through with it."

"You're going to desert?" demanded Ned.

"Just what I'd have expected of you two rats," snorted Herc.

"Call it deserting, if you like," parried Merritt, "I call it quitting just as – "

"Oh, you're a quitter all right," struck in Herc, "a quitter from Quitterville – one of the first settlers there, I guess."

"Are you going to be quiet?" hissed Chance.

"When I get good and ready, as the thunderstorm said to the old maid who complained she couldn't sleep," responded the freckle-faced lad.

"Leave him alone," said Merritt, "we can afford to let them talk their heads off if they want, to; they'll be quiet enough before long."

"Well, come on. Let us be moving," interpolated Herr Muller's voice; "himmel! we have a long tramp before us."

"That's right," assented Merritt, then, turning to Chance, he went on in a low tone, "It was a good thing that we decided on that place this afternoon. It's not more than three miles from here. We can get there, put these two cubs under lock and key, and be snug in bed without giving the alarm, if we're cautious."

Chance nodded and gave his unpleasant chuckle.

"Has Muller got the keys?" he asked.

"Yes. On the plea that we wanted to explore the place the old watchman, who hasn't been near it for a month, loaned them to him."

Ned caught some of this conversation and his heart sank. It appeared plain enough that their rascally captors had already decided on a place to confine them. Some isolated building, so he judged, though what its nature could be he could not imagine.

"Come, get up," snarled Chance, addressing the lads as soon as his colloquy with Merritt was concluded.

"We will when you take these bracelets off our ankles," rejoined Herc, motioning with his head at the ropes which bound their feet.

Merritt and Chance quickly cut loose the Dreadnought Boys' foot thongs and Ned and Herc stood erect. But if they had entertained any idea of escape, it was quickly cut short.

"See this," warned Chance, tapping a pistol which belonged to Kennell. "It's got a silencer on it, and if either of you try to run you'll get a dose of lead, and, as the report isn't louder than an air rifle, nobody will be the wiser."

Ned nodded.

"I compliment you on your generalship," he said contemptuously.

A few seconds later they moved off. Muller led the way. By his side shuffled a figure strangely familiar to both lads, but neither of them could place it. All their efforts to catch a glimpse of the two leaders' features were cheated too, both by the light and the fact that they kept their faces studiously turned away.

They pressed on for a mile or two through woods and across fields, and presently a whiff of salt-laden air struck Ned in the face.

"We're getting near the sea," he thought. "I wonder if they mean to take us off some place in a boat?"

But conversation had now ceased between Chance and Merritt, and the others were too far ahead for the lads to catch a word. Before long they emerged, without warning, from a clump of woods, directly upon a wide expanse of salt meadows. The lonely wastes stretched as far as the eye could see. Fleeting glimpses of moonlight, as the clouds swept across the sky, showed the glimmer of the ocean beyond. They could catch the sullen roar of the surf on the beach.

Without hesitation, Herr Muller struck out across the salt meadows, following a narrow path between the hummocks of salt grass. Here and there they crossed stretches of marshy land where the oozy mud came to their ankles.

All at once there suddenly shot up from the gloomy wastes the rectangular outlines of a large building of some kind. As they drew closer to the dark bulk the boys could see that the walls were pierced with numerous windows in monotonous rows. Soon the further fact became evident that each window was barred. There was something indescribably depressing about the aspect, – the gloomy, vast outlines of the dark, deserted building ahead of them, and the pallidly moonlit wastes of salt meadow all about it.

What could the place be? No light appeared in any of the numerous apertures, and the silence hung heavily about it. Suddenly there flashed across Ned the recollection of a flight he had taken some days before when he had soared above a building which, in the daylight, resembled this lonely place. The sight of it standing isolated and vast in the midst of its wild surroundings had impressed him, and on his return he had inquired about it. They had told him that it was an old lunatic asylum. The state had erected it there some years before, but the atmosphere of the salt meadows had proved malarious, and it had been abandoned.

A bulbous-nosed, red-faced old tippler in the village had also been pointed out to him as a man who held down "a soft snap," by being appointed "watchman" to the deserted pile. Evidently the keys had been obtained from him and the gloomy buildings were their destination.

That this was the case they were speedily to learn. Herr Muller approached a stout-looking door, in the top of which was a small, grated opening. Inserting a key he turned the lock and flung the door open. A damp, decaying odor, – the breath of a deserted human dwelling place, – rushed out. In spite of himself Ned shuddered. It reminded him of the crypt of an old church he had inspected in Spain when the ships were on their European cruise.

Muller, who seemed to know the way, threaded several long passages carrying a candle which he had ignited at the doorway. In this manner they traversed a considerable distance. At every turn fresh corridors, long and empty, appeared. The place was a maze of passages and stairways.

At length he paused in front of a rather small door at the end of a hall which, judging from the stairs they had climbed, must have been near the top of the building. He flung this door open, and the next instant the candle was extinguished, – evidently with the intention of concealing his features, – and the boys were roughly thrust forward.

If they had not been taken totally by surprise they might have resisted. But the shoves came suddenly, and projected them into a room through the door before they realized what was happening. The next instant the door clanged behind them, just as Herc hurled himself against it.

They heard the lock grate and some bolts clang heavily as they were fastened in.

"Bottled!" gasped Herc, truthfully if slangily.

But Ned had pulled out his pocket lantern and was examining the place in which they had been imprisoned. He was struck by something peculiar about it. He reached out a hand and felt the walls. They were smooth and yielding. They had been covered with some soft substance. High up was a small window with thick metal bars.

"What sort of a place is this?" gasped Herc as he, in his turn, felt the yielding, cushioned walls. "These walls feel like the upholstered chairs in the skipper's cabin."

Ned battled with a catch in his voice before he replied. He had grasped the truth of their almost hopeless situation.

"Herc, old boy," he said, putting a hand on his shipmate's shoulder, "brace up for a shock. This place is a deserted lunatic asylum, and they've locked us in what was formerly used as a padded cell for solitary confinement."

CHAPTER XII

"STOP WHERE YOU ARE!"

It is a curious fact that most absolutely overwhelming predicaments do not at first strike in upon their victims with the crushing force that would be imagined. This was evidenced by Herc's rejoinder to Ned's startling information.

"Great ginger!" he exclaimed, "I guess we're in just the place where we belong. If we hadn't gone blundering into that trap we wouldn't have been in this fix, and if we hadn't – "

"Left the farm and enlisted in the navy we wouldn't have been here either," retorted Ned.

A scrutiny of their prison confirmed Ned in his first judgment of its character. The walls, though padded, were solid, and seemingly impenetrable. The window was far too high up to be reached, and even if they could have got to it, it could be seen that the steel bars were set solidly into the masonry. The door, which was examined in its turn, proved to be likewise of solid oak. No lock appeared on it. Doubtless this was to prevent any of the unfortunates formerly confined in the place from injuring themselves on projecting bolts.

At the bottom of the door, however, a peculiar contrivance appeared. It was a small, hinged flap, which, when raised, revealed an opening some six inches square. The thought suggested itself to Ned that it might have been used once as a means for giving food or drink to the incurables confined within during their violent spells.

He opened the flap and thrust his hand through. A vague hope had entered his mind that he might be able to reach up as far as the bolts on the outside. If he could have done this he could have opened them. But, as might have been expected, this was not feasible. Ned had the exasperating experience of being able, by the utmost exertion, to touch the bottom of the bolt with his finger-tips, but that was all. Even then he had to shove his arm so far through the hole that it was grazed and sore when he withdrew it.

"W-e-l-l?" said Herc slowly, as they sank down side by side on a sort of bench, padded like the rest of the interior of the place.