The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey

plainly visible, at any rate.”

As S.Q. emerged from his hiding place looking sheepish, Mr. Curtain rocketed into view at such a speed that his wheelchair seemed certain to slam into McCracken. He skidded to a stop at the last instant, however, and McCracken acknowledged his entrance with an admiring bow. If Mr. Curtain had actually struck him with the chair, McCracken would have been sent flying, and as a Ten Man he had great esteem for impressive displays of force.

It was lucky for McCracken he hadn’t been sent flying, for he was already in a terrible state. He was using his necktie as a sling for an injured arm, his face was bloody and streaked with soot, his elegant suit was tattered and scorched, and his briefcase positively bristled with tranquilizer darts. His expression, however, revealed an obvious satisfaction, and when he spoke it was in his usual calm, deceptively pleasant way, as if he’d simply come to report on the weather.

“We ran into a spot of trouble,” McCracken said, in response to Mr. Curtain’s look of disapproval. He nodded toward the children. “Where’d you find the chickies?”

“They found me,” Mr. Curtain said coldly, “having stolen my Salamander, which was in your care. And I’ve captured and held them, which was more, apparently, than your imbecile crew could manage. Do remind me why I pay you.”

McCracken grinned, revealing a number of missing teeth. “We’re good for your morale. Anyway, you didn’t have to deal with Milligan.”

“Benedict’s agent? He’s on the island?”

“Ohhh . . . so they didn’t tell you,” said McCracken, lifting an eyebrow.

Mr. Curtain shot the children a venomous glance. “They did not. Milligan, eh? I suppose his involvement explains why I haven’t heard from Jackson or Jillson.”

“No doubt,” McCracken agreed. “But you needn’t worry about further interference. Milligan’s been dealt with.”

“I take it you dealt with him yourself,” said Mr. Curtain, looking the Ten Man up and down. “You’re in a pathetic condition.”

“Not just me. It took the lot of us. I must say Milligan was like no one I’d ever fought. Fast as a tiger and clever as a fox. But he never had a chance, really. The man had an absurd reluctance to do anyone real harm. You should have seen the lengths he went to just to avoid killing Crawlings, who was doing everything he could to dash him to pieces. Once I discovered that weakness, it was only a matter of time until I finished him.”

“So you did finish him?” Mr. Curtain asked. “Skip to the end, McCracken. And you, S.Q., stop standing there like a lamppost and get back to work.”

“The end was rather a disappointment,” said McCracken as S.Q. hurriedly resumed scraping and packing. “Our fight had taken us high up on the middlemost mountain, where I had backed him onto a cliff at the edge of a ravine — the other men were out of commission by this point — and he was enduring a shocking number of hornet stings rather than come out from behind a boulder he was using to shield himself. But I was gradually moving into position to finish him off, and when he realized this, he chose a less painful end. He jumped.”

Reynie put an arm around Kate’s shoulders, but she scarcely noticed. She had stifled her tears now, mastering herself in order to listen to McCracken’s account. She stared at the Ten Man, radiating fury.

“Now, I didn’t see his body,” McCracken admitted. “My flashlight was shattered by then. But in the moonlight I could see a good fifty feet down, so he fell at least that far, and he was in a sorry condition to begin with. I doubt he lived, but if he did, he’s surely wishing he hadn’t. A fall like that will have broken every bone in his body.”

“You’re going to wish you didn’t live!” Kate snarled, lunging forward. She spoke and moved with such ferocity that everyone in the cave flinched — everyone but McCracken, who chuckled as Kate’s handcuffs, still locked to the metal loop, jerked her off her feet. Reynie and Sticky grabbed onto her, holding her back for fear she’d break her arm trying to get at McCracken.

“I’ve come to see what you prefer to do now,” said McCracken, turning back to Mr. Curtain. “I still need to track down Number Two, but first I should gather the men. Martina, too, I suppose — I saw her and Garrotte in the meadow. Milligan waylaid them on their way back to the village.”

Mr. Curtain frowned. “I thought you said he avoided doing real harm.”

“And so he did, but he left everyone unconscious, and Crawlings has some broken bones that will heal better if I have help to lift him properly. If you don’t care about that, I can just toss him into the Salamander with my good arm. Or, if you prefer, I can wait for the others to regain consciousness and give me a hand. Sharpe and Garrotte appeared to be coming around — they fluttered their eyes a bit when I kicked them — and I predict they’ll be awake soon. But I thought I should let you decide. I knew you hoped to leave before noon today.”

Mr. Curtain received this news with considerable annoyance, but he appeared determined not to grow vexed. “Take S.Q.,” he said brusquely. “And hurry up. We’re almost ready to load.”

S.Q. started to set down the metal box he’d been carrying.

“No offense,” McCracken said, smiling at S.Q. in a way that showed he did, in fact, mean offense, “but I think it ought to be you who helps me, Mr. Curtain. As I said, Crawlings has broken bones. It wouldn’t do to have him dropped.”

S.Q., greatly offended, dropped the metal box on his foot.

“Fine,” Mr. Curtain said as S.Q. hopped around moaning and clutching at his foot. “I’ll come. S.Q., stop prancing and get back to work.”

McCracken had set down his briefcase and was probing at a loose tooth with his fingertips. He pulled it out, examined it with mild curiosity, and slipped it into his pocket. “There’s something else. Milligan told the children that some friends were coming for them.”

“Snakes and dogs,” muttered Mr. Curtain. “Did he say who? It can’t be an official rescue party or I’d have been notified. I assume no one radioed while you were outside.”

“I did hear from Bludgins. Evidently Rhonda Kazembe has sent the pigeon back with a note. She claims to have identified the person you seek and begs for a few more days to locate him.”