On to Pekin/Chapter 30

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1603734On to Pekin — Chapter 30Edward Stratemeyer

CHAPTER XXX


THE BURNING OF THE PRISON


For several days after the Americans had attacked the Forbidden City, Gilbert's command had little to do but to guard one of the palaces.

In the mean time the Japanese and the Russians were after the Emperor and Dowager Empress, who were said to have fled first to one city and then another. But the royal family had taken time by the forelock, and could not be overtaken.

Looting had already begun in Pekin, and but little could be done to stop it while the fighting still continued. The scenes which had been enacted at Tien-Tsin were here repeated on a larger scale; and acres of buildings were first emptied of everything valuable, and then given over to the flames.

As nearly the whole of China was now anxious for peace, it was thought at first to leave the Forbidden City alone. But this the Celestials would have taken as a sign of weakness upon the part of the Allies; and it was later on decided to open the great palace, and allow a detachment from each foreign nation to march through it, as a sign that the foreigners were absolute masters of the situation. This was done, after which the palace was locked up, and the grounds closely guarded against all vandalism.

It was less than two weeks after the fall of Pekin when Gilbert received a letter which filled him with interest. It was from Mrs. Bartlett, and ran as follows:—


"Dear Lieutenant,—You will be surprised to hear from me, but I feel that I must let you know what has happened since your absence.

"A few days after you left Tien-Tsin, the guard at our house was disturbed by a midnight intruder, who was at my husband's desk, ransacking his private papers. The guard called upon the man to surrender, and with bad grace the intruder did so; and he proved to be—would you believe it possible?—Nuglich Polk!

"Mr. Polk was at my husband's papers, trying to steal the stock certificates of the Richmond Importing Company. He begged to be let go, but I would not listen to it; and he is now in the jail here, awaiting trial.

"When Mr. Polk was searched, we found upon his person a number of papers, also some letters from his father, which prove conclusively that father and son were trying to defraud my husband out of what is rightfully coming to him from the company. Among the letters there was also one from Taku, written by a Jerry Nickerson, and speaking of your case against the Polks. I think this communication makes it clear that the Polks are becoming afraid of you; and that must mean that Ramsey Polk defrauded your father, just as you supposed was the case.

"When Nuglich Polk was captured, he claimed to be suffering from a fever. Whether this is so or not, I cannot say; but it is certainly a fact that life in prison is doing him no good.

"When you get the time, I shall be pleased to have you call upon us; and I will then show you the letters I have mentioned, and which Major Gilson has kindly allowed me to retain. It may be to your interest to call upon Nuglich Polk. You will find him in Ward 8 of the prison.

"My husband is doing very well, and hopes to be around again in the course of a few weeks. We are glad to learn that Pekin has fallen, and hope that a permanent peace will soon follow."


"They have cornered him at last!" murmured Gilbert, after reading the communication carefully. "I wish I could get to Tien-Tsin and see that letter."

His wish to get to Tien-Tsia was gratified the very next day. A detachment of troops was going down the river, and Gilbert was placed ia charge. Although the country was still filled with Chinese, the trip was made without special incident; and the acting captain of Company A found himself in Tien-Tsin at nightfall the next day, and not many blocks distant from the prison Mrs. Bartlett had mentioned.

Looting had long ago stopped in the city, and all was comparatively quiet. Yet, as Gilbert walked in the direction of the prison (being half of a mind to visit Nuggy Polk before calling upon the Bartletts, who lived a good mile away), he noticed several soldiers and citizens running in excitement.

"What's the matter?" he asked of one of the soldiers, a slim httle Frenchman.

"Zare ees a fire down zat way," answered the Frenchman, pointing with his hand. "Ze guard say it ees ze prison zat is burning."

"The prison!" exclaimed Gilbert.

"So ze guard say. I run, and I see for my own eyes." And the little Frenchman ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Well, I guess I'll see for 'my own eyes,' too," muttered Gilbert, and also put on a burst of speed, which speedily took him past the man who had given him the information. By the time the second square was passed, the young lieutenant saw the prison building quite plainly, and saw that it was blazing fiercely at one end and in the front.

A strong wind was blowing; and, unless this shifted, it was easy to see that the entire structure would be doomed. The thick black smoke was curling from every window; and the very street was so full that the fire brigade could do little or nothing.

"Have they got the prisoners out?" asked Gilbert of one of the firemen.

"Got some of 'em out," was the answer. "We couldn't get at the others: the smoke was too thick."

"Where are the prisoners?"

"Under guard, in the compound in the rear."

Without the loss of a moment, Gilbert ran around to the compound. At least sixty prisoners were there, some of the wounded lying upon the ground and improvised couches. He looked them all over, but saw nothing of Nuggy Polk.

"I am looking for a man who was in Ward 8," he said to one of the prison guards. "His name was Nuglich Polk, and he was an American."

"We couldn't get anybody out of Ward 8," was the answer, after a glance at Gilbert's uniform. "That ward is up there, and the smoke kept us out."

The young lieutenant made out the corner of the building to which the guard alluded. An outside stairway led to that section of the structure, a stairway which but a moment before had been surrounded by smoke. But now came a puff of wind, and the smoke was sent flying in the opposite direction.

"Give me a key—I am going to look for that man!" cried Gilbert. "It's a shame to let anybody die like a rat in a trap."

"That's so, lieutenant. But the danger—"

"I'll risk it. Give me the key."

"I'll go with you," returned the guard. "I see the wind is shifting."

"Then come!" And away went Gilbert for the stairs. Some few who saw the action cheered, but others shook their heads.

"It's foolhardy," said the head-keeper. "If the wind drives back, he'll be lost, sure. Grimes, better stay here."

"I said I'll go, and I will," answered Grimes, the assistant. He had been in charge of Ward 8, and felt he must do what he could for the unfortunates who were locked up. It took Gilbert but a few seconds to reach the second floor of the prison. The door at the top of the outside staircase was open, and he plunged into the corridor beyond. Here the smoke was still thick, and he had to pause to locate his surroundings.

"To the left!" shouted Grimes. "The prisoners are in the last two rooms. Better bend down—the smoke won't affect you so much."

To find his way through the narrow corridor was no easy matter, and Gilbert was soon suffering for the want of pure air. He, however, gained the first of the two rooms mentioned in safety; and on his heels came Grimes.

"Help! help! Let us out!" came in the voices of two men, a Russian and a German; and the door was quickly unlocked. The men leaped out like wild beasts, hurling Grimes flat in their eagerness to escape.

"Now the other door!" said Gilbert, in a hoarse whisper, so thick was the smoke in his throat; but Grimes was too dazed to answer, and, rising, the keeper ran after the pair who had just been liberated.

Gilbert was going after him, when his foot touched something and sent it spinning against a side wall. It was a prison key, the one Grimes had dropped. Hurriedly he picked it up, and ran for the last room at the end of the corrider.

Here were three men fighting madly to pull down the iron barrier with their bare hands, while a fourth was at the window bars. "Let us out!" cried one, in broken English. "Do not let us roast to death!"

"I will open the door," answered Gilbert. "Stand back!" And he thrust the key into the lock. It did not fit very well, and all the time he was trying to turn it the men continued to shriek and dance around like maniacs. At last the bolt slipped back; and out came the men pell-mell, the fellow from the window following the three others.

"Is Nuggy Polk here?" cried Gilbert; but none of the men answered him, and an instant later he found himself alone in the corridor, which was again filling with smoke as the wind shifted once more.

Gilbert was on the point of abandoning the search, when it came to his mind to take one look into the ward before leaving it. Quickly he sprang past the door, and his eyes swept over the couches and the corners of the apartment. Nobody was there; and then his eyes travelled to a small side window, opening upon what was a small balcony. But this balcony was now barred from use.

A cry of horror escaped the young lieutenant. At the window was Nuggy Polk. The young man had tried to escape by crowding between two of the bars. His neck had been caught in the opening; and, with his head on one side and his body on the other, he was a close prisoner.