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Updated: June 2, 2025
Far off across the water could be heard a screech of oars in the locks, and a faint sound of voices. Hogan, aware that some of his men were coming from the pier, lifted his voice in a loud roar for help. Katz, cursing furiously, sprang toward him and drew back his fist to strike. Clancy caught the arm before it could deal the blow, and saved the captain from such savage brutality.
The monotonous sound kept going without a break, which seemed to prove that the slight noise aft had not been overheard. "So far, so good," muttered Katz. "What next, Clancy?" "Our next move is to look around and see who's aboard," was the reply. "There's somebody in the cabin, that's a cinch, but I reckon this dub was the only other chap around the works.
Come on, one of you, we'll have to go in and get him." Willy Katz, the Austrian boy from the Omaha packing house, stepped up and stood beside him. "Now, Willy, we'll both go in at once; you jump to the right, and I to the left, and one of us will jab him. He can't shoot both ways at once. Are you ready? All right Now!"
"All right, Katz," called the motor wizard softly. "Make as little noise as possible. If we can't get aboard the Sylvia without any one knowing it, we won't be able to get aboard at all." "I sabe the burro, fast enough," answered Katz. The fellow proved a good oarsman and there was scarcely a sound as he dropped and lifted the oars.
Now I can put you through for all that, and put you through good and hard. Even if I can't get hands on Gerald and Katz, I've got you securely. Do you want to save yourself, or don't you?" "Save myself? How?" "Why, by helping me get back that stolen money. Tell us where Gerald Wynn and Katz are hiding themselves, where the money is, and how we're to get hold of it."
But Katz did not give any consideration to that when the time came for him to turn the tables and secure the satchel for himself. Perhaps, all Katz had helped Clancy for was the hope that just such an opportunity would come his way. Now that the opportunity had come, he was making the most of it. "Katz is doing you dirt, eh?" rumbled the captain, turning his eyes upon Clancy.
He burst into the room in the cheap boarding house, where he and his friends had taken up their headquarters, and eased himself of the foregoing remarks. Hank Burton and Bob Katz sat at a table playing cards. There were a bottle and two glasses on the table. Katz was smoking a pipe and Burton a cigar.
Hogan lowered himself to the planks on which he was standing, easing his pent-up feelings wrathfully as he did so. "Now a half hitch around his legs, Clancy," said Katz, and Clancy came around with the end of the rope and got the captain's legs in limbo. "You're a fine pair of grafters!" sneered the irate Hogan. "I hope I live to manhandle you for this night's work."
Katz turned on the motor wizard. "Oh, you!" he yelped. "I reckon I'm about done with this foolin'. Gi' me that satchel!" "I'll keep this," returned Clancy. "The money in it belongs to me." "Blamed if I care who it belongs to, I'm goin' to have it. Fork over!" Katz pushed the point of the revolver in Clancy's face. "Fork, I tell you, or take the consequences." Clancy dropped the satchel.
Before Tommy could reply, Sandy was away in the darkness, whistling softly to the detective. "Say," he said, when Katz came lumbering into the edge of the illumination, "the boy isn't there, but I've got good news for you, just the same. The man who went in with my chum is one of the train robbers the cowboys are in search of.
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