The Slave Market of Mucar (9 page)

"To spy on us, you mean! He did more than that! Slingsby took bribes from prisoners-and let them out!"

Taken off guard, Colonel Weeks was nevertheless sufficiently the master of himself not to lose his head. His tones were cool and measured as he retorted, "That's ridiculous, Warden."

"Is it?" Saldan replied heavily. "This key was found in his pocket by one of my senior guards before your very eyes."

He strode to the door and threw it open.

"Let's see if it fits. Come this way, Colonel!"

The Phantom was on his knees, prying the block in the cell wall open again when he heard loud voices raised in anger and the beat of booted feet in the corridor outside.

He had just time to replace the stone and roll under the canvas lower bunk in the opposite wall, before a key rattled in the steel lock of the cell door.

"Yes, it opens the cell!" said Saldan's exultant voice. From under the edge of the canvas cot, the Phantom could just see the warden's legs and several others in military uniforms behind him.

"This is where the prisoners who escaped were," Saldan went on. He waved the key exultantly. "This key also unlocks the outer door and others that lead to the outside of the prison."

He looked round him grimly in the quiet dimness of the cell.

"The key was stolen from my desk, by your patrolman spy!"

"Nonsense!" Colonel Weeks snapped. "What possible reason could he have?"

Page 41

"It seems Jungle Patrol men take bribes like any other crooks!" said Saldan, malice lapping the edges of his voice.

"This is a frame-up," said Slingsby.

Saldan turned back to the colonel. "Can you prove it?"

He led the way out of the cell and closed the door behind him.

"I run this jail, not the Jungle Patrol, Colonel. Now what were you going to tell the governor about Masara Prison?"

Guards swarmed round the group as Mattock blew a whistle. The huge form of Larsen elbowed his way through.

"Lock this man up!" snapped Saldan. He turned back to the enraged Colonel Weeks.

"I caught your man Slingsby with this pass key in his pocket," he told the Jungle Patrol chief. "Now maybe the Jungle Patrol will keep its nose out of my jail!"

His teeth set and his jaw straining over the stem of his pipe, Colonel Weeks strode stiffly away.

"Don't worry, Slingsby," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be back!"

Behind him the door of the common cell clanged shut on Slingsby. As soon as the men's footsteps died away along the corridor, Slingsby sank on to a bunk and put his head in his hands. He felt exhausted and bewildered by the events of the past half hour.

I messed up everything, he thought. How could I have let them plant that key on me? What now?

Slingsby was suddenly astonished to feel his ankle gripped by an iron hand. He almost fell off the bunk with sudden shock. He was nearly as startled a second later when he saw the Phantom's strong face, framed by the hood, staring at him from underneath the bunk.

"Don't make a sound," the Phantom said. "We've got to get you clear."

The Phantom got up, his form towering over Slingsby who was himself about six feet.

"Look outside and make sure no one's around," he said. He went rapidly to the back of the cell and pried the block out from the wall.

Slingsby was back at his side. "All clear," he said. His eyes widened as he saw the tunnel gaping before him.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"All in good time," the Phantom chuckled. He had seen the young man start back as Devil was framed in the opening.

"Don't worry," he said. "You won't come to any harm. He knows you're with me."

Devil eased forward between the young Jungle Patrolman's legs and nuzzled the Phantom's hand affectionately. The Phantom was already on his knees, drawing the stone block into place after them.

"This is slightly extralegal," he said, crouching behind Slingsby.

Page 42

Devil had gone ahead again.

"But it's sometimes necessary to take this sort of action when dealing with crooks in power," the Phantom concluded.

Slingsby's eyes were popping in his head as he saw the tunnel stretching out before them in the light of the Phantom's pencil flashlight.

"But how on earth. . ." he began.

"Save your breath," the Phantom told him. "Explanations later. Just start crawling."

Slingsby sighed and followed on behind Devil. The two men started off down the tunnel.

Up in the office, Warden Saldan and Chief Officer Larsen were roaring with laughter. A bottle of champagne was open on the warden's desk and Larsen was in the act of handing his chief a cut of prime salt-beef.

"Great, sir," he chuckled. "It was fantastic how we got out of that."

Larsen's cigar smoke rose up straight into the air and he eased himself forward to accept another glass of champagne from the proffered bottle.

"It certainly shut up that uppity colonel," Saldan said. "Remind Mattock to ask me for a bonus. His sleight of hand was masterful."

He sipped at the champagne with enjoyment and closed his eyes to inhale the flavor.

"I don't think we'll be hearing much from the Jungle Patrol after this," he said. "It must be unique, a patrolman being framed in front of his boss!"

Saldan's eyes narrowed and he modified his mirth.

"All the same, we must be careful," he said. "I leave for Mucar's slave market soon."

"How long will you hold Slingsby, Warden?" Larsen asked.

"Forever if necessary," the warden said. "While he's here, the Patrol's helpless."

Outside the prison, well on their way back to Masara, Weeks's jeep bucked along the dusty roads. Ricketts was driving and Weeks's face was grim as he sucked an empty pipe.

"They must have found out Slingsby was in the Jungle Patrol and framed him," said Ricketts, breaking silence for the first time on the journey.

The colonel nodded, his blond hair glinting in the dawn.

"What do you think, sir?" said Ricketts, spinning the wheel deftly to avoid a big rut.

"Is it the warden or the guard?"

Page 43

"It must be the guard," said Weeks, his eyes looking worried. "Problem is, what do we do now? The commander doesn't like bungled work."

The dawn light was strengthening on the hilltops, but it was still dark around the prison and along the shoreline as Saldan and Larsen quickened their pace toward the common cell. They let themselves through from section to section. The guards appeared to be exhausted from their night-long exertions.

"We'll just see how Slingsby's doing and then we'll make plans," said Saldan, arriving at the cell door before the other.

A moment later, a shout escaped his lips.

"He's gone!"

The warden's surprise was so complete he had forgotten the need for caution. Larsen went back down the block to reassure the guards while Saldan opened the door with suddenly trembling fingers. When Larsen rejoined him, the warden was master of himself again.

"The block was loose!" Saldan hissed to the big chief guard. "Slingsby found the escape tunnel."

Larsen turned toward the cell door.

"I'll ring the escape alarm!"

"No, you fool!"

Larsen recoiled before the other's blazing eyes.

"Use your head, man," said Saldan. "We're the only ones who know about this tunnel, apart from a handful of picked men. We'll go to the kennels. We've got about half an hour of this dawn light left before full day.

We may just catch him. Bring two rifles and ammo."

The two men hurried off toward the prison kennels where Saldan picked the two fiercest dogs in the prison pack. They were enormous mastiffs, highly trained and noted for their savagery. The guard in charge of the kennels was in the warden's pay, so he merely handed the leashes to Saldan without question. The two men and dogs set off on the track of the missing guard.

In the dawn's strengthening light, the Phantom and Slingsby had gained the cave entrance with Devil. They had remained there for some while, debating their position, waiting for full daylight. But it was still dark within the ring of somber crags which surrounded them.

"You think this is the way all the prisoners escaped?" Slingsby asked.

The Phantom nodded an affirmative.

"I've got to get to Patrol HQ and report this," said Slingsby, starting up.

The Phantom pulled him down again. Slingsby marveled at the tremendous strength of the man. He felt that the Phantom could have plucked his arm off like a straw if he'd so desired.

Page 44

"Why do you think I'm waiting here like this until daylight?" the Phantom asked calmly. "We'll see who comes to search for you here. And then we shall know who's behind the breaks."

Slingsby's eyes widened.

"Sorry," he said. "You ought to be in the Jungle Patrol with your brains and initiative!"

The Phantom chuckled and took the youngster's proffered hand.

"Well, I might just apply for membership one of these days if a vacancy turns up," he said.

He smiled again and turned to look back toward the tunnel entrance. A faint scratching was beginning to make itself audible above the dull pounding of the surf.

The Phantom and Slingsby ducked down behind the bushes as two dark shapes became slowly visible against the darker mass of the foliage leading to the secret cave. The Phantom and Slingsby went farther back into a belt of trees and waited. It was darker in here and they would be able to see any attackers coming in against the light.

"Time to release the dogs," Saldan grunted to Larsen. The big man hesitated. "These dogs are trained to kill without mercy, Warden," he protested. "I didn't figure it would come to this."

"You should have figured earlier," said Saldan, rage flaring up in him again. "You never had any scruples when it came to accepting money from the Mucar expeditions. Do you suppose slaves didn't die en route or at the hands of their new masters?"

Larsen licked his lips.

"This is different, Warden," he said. "This is just plain murder."

"So was the other," said Saldan. "Except that you weren't there to see it."

He put his hand significantly on his revolver holster.

"Release the dogs," he said.

Larsen hesitated a second longer, looking down to where the warden was calmly unbuckling the holster flap.

"All right, sir," he said. He bent down and released the two snarling beasts who went bounding toward the Phantom and Slingsby's place of concealment.

Page 45

CHAPTER 8

WOLF VERSUS DOGS

Slingsby staggered back as the menacing forms of the two savage dogs hurtled through the bushes. His face was white and his eyes wide as he turned to the Phantom. To his astonishment, his gigantic companion had a faint smile on his face. He stood with his powerful legs braced, one hand on his revolver holster and sized up the situation as the two huge dogs covered the ground between them. Devil stood immobile at his heels. His yellow, unwinking eyes were fixed upon the hounds and a deep snarl sounded far back in his throat.

The noise sounded so menacing that Slingsby momentarily felt a stab of fear. He instinctively moved a pace or two as the two dogs prepared to jump. They were no more than fifteen feet away now.

"Stay where you are if you value your life!" the Phantom snapped.

"Use the gun," said Slingsby, his nerve cracking.

The Phantom took no notice. He put his right hand down from his revolver belt on to the huge wolf's head.

"All right, Devil," he said. "Attack!"

The big wolf made a blurred streak in the half light of the dawn as he launched himself full-stretch at his enemies, his howling a horrifying sound. The three animals met in an indescribable melee of barking, growling, scratching, and whining and the bushes billowed and shuddered.

"These dogs are trained to kill!" said Slingsby in a wavery voice. He plucked at the Phantom's elbow.

"Quiet. Stop chattering," the Phantom ordered him.

High, thin screams now began to mingle with the snarling and the scuffling of heavy bodies; noises that started to raise the hair on Slingsby's head. He leaned back against the bole of a tree, all the strength momentarily drained from his body. The Phantom kept his gaze beneath the mask trained fixedly ahead, watching Devil's actions in the center of the swirling dust cloud that surrounded the group of madly contorted animals.

Saldan and Larsen had halted farther back. Larsen's face was white. The warden held an automatic rifle in his stubby hands and there was a light of satisfaction in his eye.

"Listen, Larsen!" he said. He dropped the muzzle of his gun toward the ground.

"That's how they sound when they're attacking!"