# On to Pekin/Chapter 31

CHAPTER XXXI
GILBERT RETURNS GOOD FOR EVIL
"Nuggy Polk!" gasped Gilbert; and for an instant he could say no more.
"Sa—save me!" panted the prisoner. "Don't let me bu—burn up!"
"I will do what I can for you," answered the young lieutenant.
He leaped to the window, and took hold of the bars. They were an inch thick, and resisted every effort he made to bend them. He examined the sockets, to find each solidly imbedded in the stones of the window frame.
"Break them—somehow!" pleaded Nuggy Polk. "O Pennington, please don't leave me!"
"I'll do what I can for you, Polk."
Again Gilbert glanced around the apartment. The smoke was so thick he could see but little, and it made the tears flow down his cheeks in a stream. At the opposite end of the prison the flames crackled fiercely, and they were swiftly coming closer. ​Whatever was to be done must be done quickly, or it would be too late.
His eyes rested on the iron end of a cot; and as quickly as possible he smashed the bed apart, and caught up one of the side pieces. Using this as a lever, he pried upon one of the bars of the window, and after great effort succeeded in bending 'it several inches.
"Now try to pull in your head, Polk," he said, and helped the young man. Even yet it was a tight squeeze, but the deed was accomplished with no further harm to the young man than a badly scratched ear.
But just as Nuggy was freed there came a strong rush of wind and a cloud of smoke which enveloped both like a sheet. The fire was coming up the corridor, and had already reached the stairway by which Gilbert had ascended to the ward.
"Wha—what shall we do next? " groaned Nuggy. "We are lost! Oh, Heaven help us!" And, too weak to stand longer, he sank on his knees, and then went into a heap on the floor.
"Come, this won't do!" cried Gilbert, and caught the yoimg man by the arm. "We must get ​ simply must!" But Nuggy did not hear him, for he had fainted.
Leaving the young man on the floor, Gilbert ran toward the corridor. A glance told him that escape at the further end was cut off completely. He looked at the ward opposite, a door of which stood wide open. Beyond was a window opening upon a narrow court-yard, a spot the fire had not yet touched. Gilbert ran to the window, to find a number of the bars gone. In the court-yard he saw several firemen.
"Get a ladder!" he called out. "A ladder, quick! There are two of us up here!"
His words were not understood by the natives, but they were understood by a German in the crowd; and he quickly translated them, and a rush was made for a bamboo ladder.
In the mean time Gilbert had crawled back to where he had left Nuggy. He could scarcely breathe, and was afraid that each moment might prove his last.
"Come!" he said to the young man, who had opened his eyes in a dazed way. "Be quick! It is our only chance."
"We are doomed," moaned Nuggy. "Oh, why ​did I ever come to China! This comes of doing wrong. Heaven forgive me!" And again he sank back, too weak and terror-stricken to do anything for himself.
The position was so full of peril Gilbert hardly knew what to do. The flames were close at hand, and in a minute more escape would be impossible. For one brief iastant he thought to leave Nuggy Polk to his fate. Then he grated his teeth.
"I'll save him, anyway," he thought grimly; and, unable to lift the limp form, he caught Nuggy by the collar, and literally dragged him over the floor and into the corridor. Here a hot blast came up, and made him stagger. The sparks, flying in all directions, burnt his neck and hands. But still he did not let go; and the next moment he was at the window of the opposite ward with Nuggy in his arms.
A ladder was coming, but it was not yet there; and the few seconds to follow were trying in the extreme. The smoke poured toward the window, and the flames came licking in at the door.
"Hurry up!" gasped Gilbert. "Hurry! The flames are right behind us."
"I'll save him anyway," he thought.—Page 308.
​up to the window. How he got outside with Nuggy in his arms, Gilbert could never tell afterward. He tried to descend, but his head swam around like a top; and all he could do was to hold on where he was.
"We're coming. Don't move!" said a voice below him; and in a second his burden was taken from him. Then, as he felt his senses going, he slipped down the ladder, struck among a crowd of people, and for the moment knew no more.
When Gilbert recovered, he found himself sitting on a bench in the rear of the prison yard, and several American soldiers in attendance upon him.
"Lieutenant, you had a close call," said one of the soldiers. "Another minute, and it would have been all over with you."
"Yes, I know it," answered Gilbert, as he drew a deep breath. "I—I feel rather queer yet."
"I should think so! Better take it easy for a while."
"I'll have to, sergeant. What of that man I brought out?"
"He's in a bad way, lieutenant. Reckon he was sick, wasn't he?"
​"So I believe. But he'll pull through, won't he?"
"Yes, he'll pull through," put in another voice, and a surgeon strode up. "Can I do anything for you, lieutenant?"
"I don't know that you can. I think after I have had a wash-up I'll feel better."
The surgeon wished, however, to do all he could, and gave Gilbert a dose of medicine to counteract the effect of the smoke which the young lieutenant had inhaled. Inside of half an hour Gilbert felt quite like himself once more, though somewhat shaky in the lower limbs.
Nuggy Polk had been taken to a neighboring building, which had been transformed into a temporary hospital for such of the prisoners as were sick. When Gilbert got there, he found the young man in a doze; and he was advised not to disturb him.
"He has been sick, and this affair has made him worse," said the prison doctor, in broken English. "Better let him rest." And Gilbert agreed.
An hour later found the acting captain of Company A at the home of the Bartletts, where a warm welcome awaited him. He found Amos Bartlett in ​an easy-chair, propped up by hair pillows. The old tea-merchant was glad to see him.
"I am much better, thank you," he said in answer to Gilbert's query. "I seem to have come out of a bad dream."
"I am glad to see it," returned the young lieutenant. "You must take it easy for a while, though, both in body and in mind."
"My mind is easy, thanks to what the insurance companies have promised to do and what my wife has found out about the Richmond Importing Company. I presume she has told you of what Nuglich Polk tried to do."
"I will tell him later on, Amos," put in the wife. "But now you must rest." And she beckoned Gilbert from the room.
A long talk between Mrs. Bartlett, Jennie, and Gilbert followed; and the young lieutenant was shown the papers taken from Nuggy Polk, which he perused with keen interest. Then he told of the affair at the prison, but modestly refused to relate how much of a hero he had been.
"Somehow, I think Nuggy Polk will be a better fellow after this," he concluded. "He has been ​brought face to face with death, and that often makes a difference in a man."
"I hope he does turn over a new leaf," answered Mrs. Bartlett. The young lieutenant was invited to remain at the Bartletts' home over night, but could not do so, as it was his duty to return to the troops he had accompanied from Pekin. He had no time off again for two days, when he got a leave of absence for three hours, and went over to the new prison to see how Nuggy Polk was faring.
A change had indeed come over the young man,—a change so startling that Gilbert was almost dumfounded. Nuggy' s face was pinched and white, and there was a look in his eyes which gave him the appearance of being haunted. He stared wildly at the young lieutenant.
"So it was you who saved me?" he said in a strangely unnatural voice. "I can't believe it!"
"And why not, Polk?" asked Gilbert, as he sat down beside the bed.
"Why not? Why should you save me—after all I did against you?"
"I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking of ​saving a fellow-being who couldn't save himself. Not to have done as I did would have been inhuman."
"You risked your life for mine!"
"Perhaps I did. But let us pass that over, and talk of something else. How do you feel now?"
"I am sick—I was sick before the fire. This climate has knocked out my stomach."
Gilbert was on the point of asking if liquor had not had as much to do with it as the climate, but wisely refrained. "You want to take care of yourself in the future," he remarked. "Be very careful of what you eat and drink."
"I shall be careful. I'm not going to drink any more,—at least, not as I've been in the habit of drinking. But, Pennington, I want to talk to you. As I said before, I can't understand why you risked your life for mine."
"Then don't try to understand it. It is past now."
"You are a better fellow than I am,—a good deal better," persisted Nuggy. "I don't believe I would have tried to save you under the same circumstances."
"Then it is a good thing that I am myself and ​you are yourself," said Gilbert, not knowing how else to reply.
"You are a true Christian, Pennington,—a real, practical Christian."
"Thank you. I have tried to be so—even though I am a soldier."
"Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have let me burn up," continued Nuggy, with a deep shudder. "I know just how tight I was at that window. I couldn't budge, and I was suffering the tortures of the infernal region. I was sure my end had come, when you released me."
"There was certainly no time to spare."
"Pennington, after this I am going to be a different man—I swear it. This thing has opened my eyes. It doesn't pay to—to—well, to cheat others, as I've been trying to do. I was going to try to get the best of you and the Bartletts, but I shan't try any more. It's a bad business."
"I agree with you on that point, Polk. The man who tries to do wrong is bound to come to grief sooner or later."
"Have you seen the Bartletts?"
"Yes."
​"Then you know why I am here."
"I do."
"I am glad of it, for it will make it easier for me to speak of what is in my mind. I suppose you have read the letters that were taken from me."
"I have."
"We were going to get old Bartlett to sell out for a song—if we could. I was to prove to him that the Importing Company was about to go bankrupt."
"I have suspected that for some time."
"The Importing Company is in first-class condition and making money," went on Nuggy, quickly, as if afraid to keep back the information for fear of not being able to free his mind later.
"You told me that at Manila."
"And the Bartlett stock is worth two hundred cents on the dollar."
"And what of the Pennington stock?" put in Gilbert, quickly.
"The Pennington stock is worth just as much—and there is at least sixteen thousand dollars' worth of it," was the answer, which made the young lieutenant's heart bound. "There, the cat is out of the bag—and I am glad of it. That secret has lain like ​a lump of lead on my soul ever since you saved my life."
"Sixteen thousand dollars' worth of stock?"
"Yes, and worth thirty-two thousand dollars in the money market. Pennington, you shall have what is due you, even if I have to force my father into giving it to you."
"That is the stock my father placed in his hands just before his death?"
"Yes."
"How did you learn of this? Did your father tell you?"
Nuggy Polk hung his head for a moment. "No, he didn't tell me. I was at his private safe at home one day, and I found the missing certificates. I had had a row with father over some money matters; and, when he came home, I threatened to expose him if he didn't give me what I wanted. Ever since that time we have worked hand in glove together, and he has allowed me all the spending money I wanted. But that is past now. I am going to lead a straight life, and I am going to try to get father to do the same."