"Dorothy!"

"Jerold!" came a m.u.f.fled cry, from somewhere above in a room.

He heard her vainly tugging at a door.

"Go up ahead of me, both of you," he commanded, making a gesture with the gun. "I prefer not to break in the door."

CHAPTER XVII

A RESCUE BY FORCE

Theodore was hesitating, though his father was eager to obey. Garrison stepped a foot forward and thrust the pistol firmly against the young man's body, c.o.c.king the hammer.

"I'm going--for the love of Heaven, look out!" cried the craven suddenly, and he backed toward the stairs in haste.

"That's better," said Garrison coldly. "Step lively, please, and don't attempt the slightest treachery unless you are prepared to pay the price."

Theodore had no more than started when the door-bell rang--four little jingles.

"It's mother," said old Robinson, starting for the door.

"Let her remain outside for the present," ordered Garrison. "Get on up the stairs."

The bell rang again. The Robinsons, resigned to defeat, ascended to the hall above, with the gun yawning just at the rear.

Once more Garrison called out:

"Dorothy--where are you?"

"Here!" cried Dorothy, her voice still m.u.f.fled behind a solid door.

"The room at the back. I can't get out!"

Garrison issued another order to Theodore, whom he knew to be the governing spirit in the fight against himself and Dorothy:

"Put down one hand and get out your keys--but don't attempt to remove anything else from your pocket, or I'll plug you on the spot."

Theodore cast a defiant glance across the leveled gun to the steady, cool eyes behind it, and drew forth the keys, as directed.

"If that's you, Jerold--please, please get me out--the door is locked!"

called Dorothy, alarmed by each second of delay. "Where are you now?"

"Coming!" called Garrison. He added, to Theodore: "Keep one hand up.

Unlock the door." He called out again: "Keep cool when it's opened.

Don't confuse the situation."

Young Robinson, convinced that resistance at this point was useless, inserted the key in the lock and opened the door, at the same time casting a knowing look at his father, who stood over next to the wall.

In the instant that Garrison's attention was directed to the unlocked room, old Robinson made a quick retreat to a tiny red box that was screwed against the wall and twice pulled down a bra.s.s ring.

Garrison beheld the action too late to interpose. He knew the thing for a burglar-alarm--and realized his own position.

Meantime Dorothy had not emerged.

"Jerold! Jerold!" she cried. "My feet are chained!"

"Get in there, both of you, double-quick!" commanded Garrison, and he herded the Robinsons inside the room, fairly pushing them before him with the gun.

Then he saw Dorothy.

White with fear, her eyes ablaze with indignation at the Robinsons, her beauty heightened by the look of intensity in her eyes, she stood by the door, her ankles bound together by a chain which was secured to the heavy bra.s.s bed.

"Jerold!" she cried as she had before, but her voice broke and tears started swiftly from her eyes.

"Be calm, dear, please," said Garrison, who had turned on her captors with an anger he could scarcely control. "You cowards! You infamous scoundrels!" he said. "Release those chains this instant, or I'll blow off the top of your head!" He demanded this of Theodore.

"The key isn't here," said the latter, intent upon gaining time since the burglar-alarm had been sprung. "I left it downstairs."

"I think you lie," said Garrison. "Get busy, or you'll have trouble."

"It's on his ring, with the key to the door," said Dorothy. "They've kept me drugged and stupid, but I saw as much as that."

Once more Garrison pushed the black muzzle of the gun against Theodore's body. The fellow cringed. The sweat stood out on his forehead. He dropped to his knees and, trembling with fear, fumbled with the keys.

"To think they'd dare!" said Dorothy, who with difficulty refrained from sobbing, in her anger, relief, and nervous strain.

Garrison made no reply. He was fairly on edge with anxiety himself, in the need for haste, aware that every moment was precious, with the town's constabulary doubtless already on the way to respond to the old man's alarm. The rights of the case would come too late, with his and Dorothy's story against the statements of the Robinsons, and he had no intention of submitting to arrest.

"You're wasting time--do better!" he commanded Theodore, and he nudged the gun under his ribs. "That's the key, that crooked one--use it, quick!"

Theodore dared not disobey. The chain fell away, and Dorothy ran forward, with a sob upon her lips.

"Don't hamper me, dear," said Garrison, watching the Robinsons alertly.

"Just get your hat, and we'll go."

Dorothy ran to a closet, drew forth a hat, and cried that she was ready.

"Throw those keys in the hall!" commanded Garrison, and young Robinson tossed them out as directed. "Now, then, over in the corner with the pair of you!"

The helpless Robinsons moved over to the corner of the room. Dorothy was already in the hall. Garrison was backing out, to lock the door, when Dorothy ran in again beside him.

"Just a minute!" she said, and, going to the bed, despite Garrison's impatience, she turned down the pillow and caught up a bunch of faded roses--his roses--and, blushing in girlish confusion, ran out once more, and slammed the door, which Garrison locked on her relations.

"Throw the keys under the rug," he said quietly. "We've no time to lose. The old man rang in an alarm."

Dorothy quickly hid the keys as directed. The face she turned to him then was blanched with worry.