The Boy Scouts on a Submarine Part 12

"No," said Beany.

"Yes," said Hen at the same time.

"There are some stairs going down from the attic," continued the Weasel, his voice very weak. "Don't go down that way. Look in the end of the attic close to the big chimney. There is a pile of doors and lumber there, and behind it is a narrow stair. Go down that. It opens into a wardrobe in the Wolf's own den. You will find him there with the kid, if he is still alive. Take the Wolf anyhow. Don't kill him. I want him to know that I bit--"

his voice trailed off.

"Would hot coffee help any?" asked Hen. "I have a thermos bottle full; but it's under that seat he's on."

Together they gently lifted the body of the Weasel, and succeeded in getting hold of the bottle of hot coffee. Hen poured a steaming portion into the cup, and with difficulty they forced it between the Weasel's lips. He swallowed a little, and presently opened his eyes.

"Close call," he said with a faint smile. He hurried on:

"The Wolf has enough information written down, up there somewhere, to defeat America," he said. "I don't know where it is, but it must be somewhere, where he can put his hand right on it. Search everything! Try every piece of blank paper for sympathetic ink. There is a secret room in the cellar full of bombs. They are to be left there, stored, until America is invaded. If you could only work that wireless--messages are coming in all the time the last three days--"'

"I can," said Beany.

"Then you will get some news sure. Do you speak German?"

"No," said Beany hopelessly.

"I do," said Hen.

"All right," said the Weasel feebly. "Remember, if he man is there, shoot to kill--shoot to kill!"

"I'd like to get the police," said Beany.

"They are sort of used to this."

"You will not save the kid," said the Weasel. "The Wolf will kill him at the first alarm. You can't make a sound. When you get down in the wardrobe, you will find a nail hole in the upper corner of the right hand door. I put that there, so I could watch the Wolf. I have meant to bite for a long while--" He trailed off, and nearly became unconscious. Then he gathered himself together. "Tell him I bit."

"Say!" said Hen suddenly. He put his face close to the drooping face of the Weasel. "Say, where's the house? You haven't told us where to go. We got to get a move on, I should say!"

"The house--the house," he said. "It's number,--it's corner of-- it's number three hundred and one--"

"Gosh, this is awful!" said Hen. "Come, try to tell us! Three hundred and one--what?"

The Weasel made a mighty effort.

"Number three hundred and one--" His voice trailed off into silence.

"He's dead," said Beany.

"What shall we do?" said Hen. "He's not dead, but pretty close to it. We will have to get him to a hospital, and wait for him to give the street that house is on. That means the kid will be murdered before that time, I suppose. Gee, it's awful."

A taxi rounded the square, and stopped close to them. The driver got out.

"It's him!" said Hen. "I know that fellow." As the driver walked toward them, he recognized Hen.

"Hullo!" he said. "What's new?"

"Look here," said Hen. "We got to get this man to the hospital.

A fellow came along and did for him."

"Great Scott!" said the driver, peering into the taxi, where the electric light shone on the huddled figure in Beany's arms.

A slight, boyish figure came running along the walk. It was Porky, out of breath, and excited.

"I thought you would have him safe in a hospital," he complained.

"He wouldn't let us," said Hen. "Say, I guess there's, no hope of saving that kid! This feller here told us all about everything, and how to got into the place and all, and then he fainted before he could tell where the house is."

"I know," said Porky. "I trailed them there. We will get this chap to a hospital, and get the police, and get the Wolf."

"Get nothing!" said Hen. He turned to the other driver. "Hop in here, and take this man to the nearest hospital. Say you picked him up in the park. They will arrest you probably, but we got something to do and it won't wait. That on! If they jug you, get word to Mr. Leffingwell."

Porky gave the address. Hen reached under the seat and from a hidden pocket brought out a small, wicked-looking revolver. "I will take your car," he said. He raced over, and started the engine. The boys followed, and tumbled in.

"Hi! Hi!" yelled Jim Morris, the taxicab driver. "What you doin'? You crazy! What do you want me to do?"

"Get that fellow into a doctor's hands quick as you can," said Hen.

"Then what?" demanded Jim. "You say tell Mr. Leffingwell. What am I to tell him? Of all the boneheads! What steer do I give him? Hey?"

"Bully for you!" said Porky, swinging out the door. "Tell Mr.

Leffingwell we are on track of the Wolf. Remember the name. The Wolf. Don't say it to any one before you tell Mr. Leffingwell or you will be sorry for yourself. Ask him to get the secret service men, and call the police force and come to this address."

He scribbled a street and number on a piece of paper.

"Say, why don't one of youse boys come and tell this yarn? I can see where I'm the goat!"

"Never mind!" cried Porky. "We'll be along some time or other, and bail you out."

Hen's mouth thinned down to a straight line as he started the car.

"Not too fast!" said Porky. "It is not far." He repeated the street and number. Hen made a quick turn and glided smoothly across a side street. Beany, looking behind, saw Jim Morris give a look after them, then start his car and dash off, the insensible figure of the Weasel swaying on the back seat.

He drove to the nearest hospital without the loss of a single moment's time. Round the monstrous building, with it's spreading maze of pavilions, he went through a court, and stopped at a doorway which opened directly on a large elevator.

He pressed a b.u.t.ton, and a white-clad attendant appeared.

"Drunk?" he asked.

"Stuck!" said Jim briefly.

"Stabbed?" asked the attendant.

"'S what I said," retorted Jim, and almost before he could realize it, the unconscious Weasel, the attendant and himself were being smoothly carried to the emergency ward, far above.

The attendant motioned to Jim, and they went silently into an office where another man, also in while, sat at a desk, and took down in a big book the circ.u.mstances of the Weasel's arrival. He finished, then Jim saw him reach under the desk and press a b.u.t.ton. Immediately the door opened, and a couple of heavily built men in plain blue uniforms entered. They read the entry in the big book, then looked searchingly at Jim.