Chapter XXI: The Face at the Window

While Doctor Latham fastened the boat, Cole’s eyes swept the black masses of wooded hills that slanted upward at a sharp angle from the river bank. At the apex of the tallest peak a light gleamed, but otherwise there was no sign of human habitation on this side of the river. The lights of a town twinkled across the foaming welter of waves, and they helped Cole to fix their location. They were in one of the wildest and most rugged sections of Dutchess County. The peak, on which the solitary light shone, had once been a popular pleasure resort, and in the old days a cable railway had carried week-end excursionists to the top. Of late, what with the dry era and the public’s fickle fancy, the place had lost its popularity, and the buildings on the peak were falling into decay. The ruggedly romantic setting seemed an ideal one for the kind of adventure Cole anticipated.

With the doctor at his heels, he moved cautiously toward the point where the yacht had anchored a short distance ahead. Of a sudden they stopped. The crack of a pistol rose sharply above the whine of the wind.

“Only a signal, I think,” said Cole, after waiting tensely for a few moments.

They advanced a little farther, then stopped on a slight elevation from which they had an unobstructed view of the yacht. In the lights from the craft they saw a number of men going ashore, and several of them were carrying a bulky object. Their faces were not recognizable at that distance, but Cole thought there were about a dozen in all.

“We may have quite a lively tussle,” he observed in an undertone. “I could have brought a few helpers along, but safety doesn’t always lie in numbers.”

“I like this better,” said Latham. “If there were more of us there might not be enough thrills to go around. Where are we?”

“That place, up there in the clouds, where you see the light, is called Dutchess Point. I believe there is a car coming down. That’s probably what the pistol shot meant.”

A light was treading its way in a zigzagging course down the side of the hill. Soon were heard the chugging of motors and the metallic snarl of brakes. The two men waited until the car reached the group that had come off the yacht. As soon as the loaded vehicle started to retread its path up the hill they followed. It proved a hard climb, and they reached the top a full half hour behind the car.

The apex was composed mostly of huge flat rock, with here and there a few scrawny trees. There were half a dozen buildings scattered about, and in the largest one several lights had appeared by the time the two climbers reached the top. They stood in a dark spot behind a little cluster of starving hemlocks. No one was in sight, but the sound of voices drifted out to them through the open windows of the large building.

“Hear that noise?” whispered Latham. “What do you suppose it is?”

Cole listened. A gentle, rhythmic whirring was heard. He looked down at his feet, for it seemed to come from underground.

“Machinery,” he said, and suddenly he remembered the words spoken by Malcolm Reeves in his insane glee: “Yellow—pretty yellow.” The whirring noise that he heard, as he stood there under the hemlocks, brought them back to his mind.

“Look!” said Latham suddenly.

Cole, following his pointing finger, glanced upward. The large building, he now noticed, was equipped with a high tower, and near its top a light had appeared in the last few moments. At the lighted window a face was dimly discernible. Cole strained his eyes at the point of illumination, and suddenly he gripped his companion’s arm.

“It’s a woman, Latham!”

The doctor gasped. “It must be Miss Brownell, then!”

The two men continued staring upward. Their imaginations touched up the dim and remote picture which they saw with their eyes. The face was very white, thought Cole, and the eyes held a look of terror. She was looking downward; their glances met somewhere in mid-air, and yet she appeared not to see the two watchers below.

“What shall we do?” asked Latham.

“You stay here,” said Cole. “I’m going to look around a bit.”

He slipped away among the trees, avoiding the open space in front of the building. The tower was in the rear, overlooking the steep incline, and he moved in that direction. He looked up a sheer wall to where the light shone. To climb up there was out of the question, for the blank wall offered no hold for either hands or feet. He moved cautiously toward the front entrance. For a moment he listened outside the sagging door, then boldly pushed it open and entered.

He was in a dark corridor. Under one of the doors at the side was a thin wedge of light. A number of voices issued from it; evidently a conference of some kind was in progress. Knowing that the stairway leading to the tower must be in that direction, Cole tiptoed farther down the hall. A bold and reckless move, he had learned from experience, was often more effective than a thought-out plan. Before he could do anything else Miss Brownell must be rescued. His hands were tied, as long as she was held as a hostage by the gang. Once she was out of harm’s way he could proceed against them as ruthlessly as he pleased.

He came to the end of the hall, and there he brought up against another door. He opened it, almost sure that it must lead to the stairs, but instead he found himself in a large, square room. A small electric bulb glowed in the ceiling, and in its light he caught a glimpse of a forbidding figure guarding a door at the farther side. The sentinel was thickset and broad-shouldered. His bushy brows seemed top-heavy for his very small eyes which glared out at Cole in a startled way.

“Stop right where you are!” he commanded, at the same instant reaching for his hip pocket. As his fingers closed around the handle of an automatic, Cole lunged forward. His fist landed with explosive force in the man’s face, and he fell to the ground without a sound.

“Sorry, old top, but it had to be done,” Cole told the insensible man, as he opened the door which the fellow had been guarding. Before him was a winding stairway that seemed to extend upward interminably. Very quickly Cole lifted the man through the door and stretched him out along the steps, then drew the door to.

He hurried up the stairs. The long ascent would have exhausted a weaker man, but Cole’s lungs and muscles were in the pink of condition. At length, panting a little, he reached the top. Before him was a door. He rapped, and footfalls crossed the floor within.

“Who’s there?” demanded a voice which he recognized as Miss Brownell’s. It sounded a bit lofty, pathetically so, he thought.

“Cole,” he replied.

“Oh!” The exclamation was more a sigh of relief. “But I can’t let you in. The door is locked, and I have no key.”

“I might have known it,” muttered Cole. The space between the door and the wall of the tower was very narrow. Bracing his back against the wall he placed his feet on the door and shoved steadily. It was of stout material, but at length it gave with an abruptness that precipitated him to the floor. Quickly he picked himself up.

The girl rushed toward him. There was an excited flush which surmounted the white of her face. “I am so glad——” she began.

“You were foolish,” Cole sternly interrupted. “You shouldn’t have started after Ballinger alone. That’s no job for a woman. What happened?”

“Ballinger was too clever for me,” she confessed. “The moment I thought I had him I was shoved into a car, blindfolded, and—— Well, that’s about all I know. When I opened my eyes the next morning I found myself here.”

“How have they treated you?”

“Oh, very well, suspiciously well. I have been told that prisoners who are doomed to die always get the best of everything. Mr. Cole, you have thrown a full-sized scare into the gang. I heard a couple of the men talking outside my door this morning. I suppose they felt sure I would never have a chance to repeat what I heard. They said——”

“Not so loud!” admonished Cole.

“I gathered from what they said,” she went on in a whisper, “that the leaders of the gang are badly frightened. They seem to think you are hot on their trail.”

“They’re mistaken,” declared Cole modestly. “I’ve barely got started as yet.”

“Well, all the same they are very much worried. Their plan, as one of the men put it, is to make a swift clean-up and a quick get-away. Some one, whom they called ‘the big chief,’ was to come out here to-night.”

“About a dozen men arrived a little while ago,” Cole informed her. “No doubt the chief was among them. Do you know who he is?”

“No. He wasn’t referred to by name in the conversation which I overheard. I am sure, though, that Doctor Latham isn’t the man. In fact I never really thought so. More of my woman’s intuition, I suppose.”

“What else did the men say?” he asked in a whisper.

“They said there is about half a billion dollars’ worth of gold ready to be minted. I didn’t quite understand what they meant by that. There is a complete set of machinery hidden somewhere about the place, and it is running at full capacity.”

“I should think the comings and goings of the gang would excite the curiosity of the townspeople across the river.”

“Oh, they’ve managed that part very cleverly by circulating a report to the effect that the buildings are being renovated and that Dutchess Point is to be reopened as a pleasure resort next spring. In fact, they have put a crew of carpenters, roadmakers and gardeners to work on the place. Just for a blind, of course. It seems they haven’t neglected a single precaution. Yet they seem to be worried over something.”

“Excellent! When your enemy is worried, you have an advantage over him. What seems to be the trouble?”

“I couldn’t quite make out. All I heard was a few scattered remarks. It appears they are having some difficulty with the gold-making process. There seems to be a minor flaw in the product, due to the absence of something which they refer as the seventh ingredient. I haven’t the least idea what it is, but it seems to be related to the experimental work Doctor Latham conducted before he severed his connection with the gang. They appear to think that he could solve their difficulty if he was so inclined.”

“By supplying the formula for the seventh ingredient?”

“Something like that. Anyway, that was the impression I received. Evidently the missing ingredient isn’t of very great importance, but they want to make the product as perfect as possible.”

“For the sake of safety in minting and circulating it, I suppose,” said Cole thoughtfully. “Apparently Latham left them at an inopportune time from their point of view. Doubtless they would exert any manner of pressure on him in order to make him divulge the secret of this so-called seventh ingredient.”

“I doubt if they would succeed.”

“So do I,” said Cole, looking curiously at the girl. “Latham is a fighter clean through, and he is a match for them. By the way, he came out with me this evening.”

She caught her breath and fixed her wide, troubled eyes on his face.

“Doctor Latham here?” she murmured. “Did he volunteer to come with you?”

“I invited him to come, and he jumped at the invitation. I foresaw that he would prove useful, and he was doubly anxious to come when I hinted that our expedition to-night might reveal your whereabouts. Your disappearance came as a great shock to him.”

“Then you no longer think he is implicated with these scoundrels?”

“No, I don’t. He was with them until he saw that their aims were crooked, and then he got out as best he could. Latham has acted foolishly, but that’s all. The scientific side of these experiments appealed to the scholar in him. I don’t think he was ever moved by greed. No, Latham wasn’t to be blamed. Whenever a man is in love he is apt to make a fool of himself.”

She lowered her eyes. “Doctor Latham is a good man,” she said tensely. “I wish I could——” A gentle sigh escaped her.

“I understand,” murmured Cole. “Life is a bit of a tangle, isn’t it? Even the logical mind of a scholar isn’t able to steer clear of the meshes when a charming woman is involved. One never knows——”

He paused, threw a quick glance at the door, then looked at Miss Brownell, noting the tensity that had suddenly crept into her face. In an instant his automatic was in his hand, and he tiptoed softly to the door. Holding it open a crack, he heard unmistakably the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Stand back!” he ordered curtly. “Some one’s coming!”

But the girl, smiling faintly, signified with a shrug that she intended to remain where she was.