Chapter 24 The Mystery of the Ivory Charm by Carolyn Keene
Prisoners
When the door had opened wide, Jasper Batt thrust the package of food and the thermos bottle into the tunnel. Nancy and George heard him speak a few words to someone inside, but the girls were too far away to distinguish what was being said. After a moment the watchman firmly closed the rock door, and after making certain that it was locked, walked swiftly off into the woods.
“He brought some food to a prisoner in the tunnel,” George whispered in awe.
“It must be Coya,” Nancy added. “I’ll soon find out!”
“What do you intend to do?” George questioned fearfully as her chum moved forward.
“I’m going to try Jasper Batt’s trick of opening the door.”
Selecting a heavy stick, Nancy rapped sharply on the rock, six times in rapid succession. She waited expectantly, but nothing happened.
“Batt repeated the signals twice,” George reminded her.
“So he did. I’ll try that.”
Again Nancy knocked on the door. This time the girls heard the familiar click which told them that a latch had been unfastened. They moved back, making room for the heavy barrier to swing outward.
“It’s opening!” George observed fearfully. “Please don’t go inside, Nancy.”
The girls peered into the dark interior of the tunnel, but at first could see nothing.
“Coya! Coya!” Nancy called.
“Help! Help!” a feeble voice responded.
Nancy and George exchanged startled glances. They knew that it was not the Indian lad who had answered. The voice sounded familiar, yet they could not place it.
“Who is it?” Nancy shouted.
“Putnam—Peter Putnam! That fiend, Batt, has me chained to a post! Come and help me!”
“It may be a trap,” George whispered nervously.
Nancy shook her head. By this time her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark cavern and she could dimly make out a figure chained to an object not far from the entrance. Boldly she entered the tunnel, and after a moment’s hesitation George followed her.
“Thank the fates you’ve come in time!” Putnam murmured brokenly as the girls reached him. “Those villains meant that I should die in this dark, filthy hole. Dead men tell no tales.”
“And have you a tale to tell?” Nancy asked alertly.
Peter Putnam rattled his chains angrily. “Get me out of here and don’t do so much talking! Unfasten my fetters.”
“I’ll be very glad to accommodate you, Mr. Putnam, but not until you have revealed where Rai has hidden Coya.”
“Why should I tell you anything?” the prisoner growled. “You’re the girl who stole my papers from the coffee pot! Oh, you thought I wouldn’t find out that you had substituted another piece of paper, but I noticed it right away.”
“The papers weren’t yours,” Nancy said. “Right now it’s to your interest to tell me everything you know about Rai and Coya. Unless you do, I fear I shall be compelled to leave you here.”
“It was your fault that I got into this predicament,” Putnam retorted bitterly. “If it hadn’t been for those papers——”
“You should never have stolen them from Batt,” Nancy replied severely. “But that’s neither here nor there. If you prefer not to talk, then we’ll leave.”
Although she had no intention of abandoning the man to his fate, Nancy turned as if to depart. As she had expected, the move brought Putnam to his senses.
“All right, I’ll tell you everything I know,” he gave in. “Unfasten the chains at once.”
“I prefer to hear your story first,” Nancy said evenly.
She knew that Putnam, once released, could never be trusted to keep his agreement.
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me where Coya has been hidden.”
“Rai has him at my place—a prisoner in the loft. I was to get a tidy sum for keeping my mouth shut about it. But this is the pay I get! Chained to a post!”
“You are telling the truth?” Nancy demanded sharply.
“If you don’t believe me I’ll take you there and prove it!”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do! Now just be patient and we’ll release you as quickly as we can.”
Nancy and George set to work, and after nearly half an hour of discouraging labor managed to break the lock of the chain with a huge rock. Putnam crept to the tunnel entrance, whimpering from pain as circulation returned to his cramped limbs.
“You’ll be all right in a few minutes,” Nancy encouraged him. “Here, lean on my shoulder and I’ll help you to the car.”
“What will you do when you get to my place?” Putnam asked a little later as the girls drove away from the Allison property.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Nancy answered.
“That fellow Rai is a fox. You’ll be no match for him.”
“You must help us, Mr. Putnam.”
The man made no response and Nancy, casting a quick glance in his direction, correctly read the expression on his face. Peter Putnam would look after himself and had no intention of aiding any other person, be it friend or foe.
Presently Nancy drew near the miser’s barn-like home and halted the car. She did not wish the running motor to warn Rai that anyone was approaching.
“You can sneak up to the house the back way,” Putnam suggested, indicating a path which led through the underbrush. “I’ll wait here.”
Nancy and George regarded the miser with ill-concealed contempt; yet they made no protest at his decision, for they realized that his cowardice would prevent him from being of any real aid to them. Accordingly they crept toward the house alone.
Unknown to them, Rai, in the loft of the barn, had caught a glimpse of the automobile coming down the road. He smiled wickedly as he watched the girls steal cautiously toward the house.
“Rai will be ready for them!” he chuckled, descending the ladder to the lower floor. Then be stationed himself near the door and waited.
A few minutes later, after circling the house, Nancy and George quietly twisted the knob and pushed the door open a tiny crack.
“The coast is clear, I think,” Nancy whispered. “I can’t hear a sound.”
She opened the door wider and they entered on tiptoe. A harsh laugh caused them to wheel about. Rai slammed the door shut and faced them gloatingly.
“So! I now have two fair prisoners to enclose in my little cage!”
With one accord Nancy and George sprang at the man, hoping to overpower him and regain their freedom. Although they fought violently, Rai laughed aloud at their efforts. Without exerting himself unduly he held them off, and then, tiring of the cat and mouse game, caught up a piece of rope from the kitchen table and trussed them securely.
Dazed and frightened, the girls eyed Rai silently, wondering what punishment he would inflict upon them. In all their experience they had never encountered a man with such strength.
“What have you done with Coya?” Nancy gasped, recovering her poise.
“Ah! So that is why you came? Coya is dead.”
“I do not believe it,” Nancy cried. “You have him hidden in the loft.”
As if to confirm her words, the girls heard a slight noise overhead. Rai smiled blandly.
“You are correct. Coya lives, but his hours are numbered. He must die that Iama Togara may rule in peace.”
“You can’t realize what you are saying, Rai,” Nancy said pleadingly. “The boy has never done you any harm. Let him go free.”
“No, it is decreed that Coya must die by my hand. He shall die slowly and in a manner befitting a rajah.”
Turning his back upon the two girls, Rai moved toward the ladder which led to the loft.