The Original Bulldog Drummond: 5

The Leonaur’s collected edition of Sapper's original Bulldog Drummond stories draws to a close—the final two novels and a bonus short story

These are the original adventures of Sapper's Bulldog Drummond collected together in a special Leonaur five volume collection—each special book containing two full length Bulldog Drummond novels plus one short story featuring the eponymous hero. Their author, Sapper—H. C. McNeile—was a British Army officer in the Royal Engineers during the Great War and took the popular name of his corps as his unforgettable nom-de-plume. His main character, the hard fighting, hard playing but clean living English gentleman, Hugh Drummond, is a wealthy and decorated ex-officer for whom life after the First World War is proving mightily dull. To remedy this intolerable state of affairs he and his trusted band of henchmen, 'The Black Gang,’ embark on a career of detection and high adventure (occasionally crossing the line of the law) satisfyingly filled with villainous 'foreign' foes, deadly 'bad-but-beautiful’ women and, of course, a bevy of beautiful 'good' women to be rescued from death and fates worse than! Drummond is a man's-man of the likes of Richard Hannay and Doc Savage, a hero that could be set against the likes of a Fu Manchu and a proto James Bond who is guaranteed to throw himself into colourful 'between the wars' two fisted action at every opportunity—to the delight of readers who enjoy adventure from a more innocent age.
This final volume contains the full length novels Bulldog Drummond at Bay and Challenge and the bonus story ‘Thirteen Lead Soldiers.’
These fabulous volumes are available in softcover and hardcover with dust jacket.

And at that moment a woman’s scream, instantly stifled, rang out. It came from the house and the four men stiffened.<br>
“That settles it,” said Drummond quietly. “I’m going in. Are you fellows on?”<br>
“Sure,” answered Standish. “But we keep together. The strange thing is that there’s not a single light in any window.”<br>
“There may be an inside room,” said Drummond. “Come on. And keep your guns handy.”<br>
They crossed the lawn, and began skirting round the walls to find a suitable window to break in at. But they were saved the trouble: a small side door was unlocked, and a moment later they were all inside the house.<br>
Absolute silence reigned, and the darkness was intense as they crept forward.<br>
“I’m going to switch on a torch,” breathed Drummond. “Stand well away from me.”<br>
The beam shone out and circling round picked up the staircase. Then darkness again as they felt their way towards it. And now a murmur of voices came from above, and a faint light which grew stronger as they advanced. A door was ajar on the first floor: it was through it that the light was filtering. Then the voices ceased, and they could hear the sound of a woman’s sobs.<br>
“The penalty,” said a harsh voice suddenly, “is death.”<br>
It was so unexpected that they halted abruptly; then once again they tiptoed forward and paused by the room with the light. The sobs were coming from inside, and Drummond flung open the door, to stand motionless on the threshold. The room was an operating theatre.
The walls were pure white, so designed that no corners existed to catch dust. The light was brilliant without being dazzling, and was thrown from a powerful reflector up on to the ceiling. Cases of gleaming instruments stood against the wall, and in the centre was the table and various basins.<br>
For a while it seemed as if the room was empty, and then as their eyes grew accustomed to the light they saw a woman lying on the floor on the far side of the room. Tears were streaming down her face, but her sobs had ceased, and she was staring at them in bewilderment. Young and dark, she was obviously a foreigner, and after a while she put her finger to her lips, as the sound of voices came from across the passage.<br>
“Save me,” she whispered. “Save me, for the good God’s sake.”<br>
“Then get up,” muttered Drummond. “We’ll save you, but there is no need to lie there.”<br>
“But I’m bound,” she answered.<br>
In two strides Drummond was across the room, and had picked her up. Her ankles were lashed with rope, but there was no time to free them. At any moment the owners of the voices might return, and their situation with a helpless woman on their hands was not too good.<br>
“Hop it, boys,” he said tensely. “We can come back later.”<br>
And even as he spoke the door closed with an ominous clang.<br>
For a space they all stood motionless staring at it; then Drummond deposited the woman on the table and crossed the room.<br>
“Trapped,” he said at length. “By all that’s holy! What complete, utter, congenital fools we are. A steel door with a Yale lock.”<br>
The woman started to whimper again, and with a short laugh Drummond returned to her, and taking out his knife he cut her free.<br>
“Well, my dear,” he remarked, “that appears to have torn it for the moment. This delightful apartment doesn’t seem to go in for windows, and nothing short of a ton of dynamite would break down that door.”<br>
“It is terrible,” she moaned. “Terrible. This is, how you say, ze doctor’s room where he do things to people. And ze walls, no noise go through.”<br>
“Soundproof, is it,” said Standish curtly. “Still, there must be some ventilation somewhere. By the way, this isn’t your pal, is it, Hugh?”<br>
“Great Scott! no,” said Drummond. “What’s the trouble, my dear? Why had they lashed you up?”<br>
“Because I find out things zey do not want me to know. Because I say I will tell ze policemen.”<br>
“What sort of things?” cried Drummond eagerly.<br>
“Zey have ze men captured—prisonniers. But what does it mattaire?” she burst out wildly. “We are prisonniers ourselves. And ze big man he is a devil. He will kill us all.”<br>
Drummond patted her on the shoulder reassuringly, and produced his revolver.<br>
“We may have something to say about that,” he said. “Now listen, mam’selle, do you know who these men are who are prisoners?”<br>
“No, m’sieur, non. I do not know. One, he is old; the other is of your age. But I do not know who zey are.”<br>
“Do you know where they are?”<br>
“In a big house, m’sieur.” She passed her hand over her forehead. “A big house . . . M’sieur, I feel so funny.”<br>
“So do I, by gad!” cried Gregson. “I feel as if I was tight.”<br>
Drummond sat down suddenly in a chair; he was feeling tight, too. He looked at Standish, and two Standishes were swaying by the wall. Came the sound of a fall behind him, and he tried to turn his head. But he could not, and even as he made a last desperate effort the two Standishes collapsed and lay still.<br>
His revolver was still within reach, and he tried to pick it up. But his arm would not move: it felt as if it was bound to his side with iron bands. He tried one leg: the same result. So he gave it up, and just sat there inert and helpless.<br>
He could think, though sluggishly; he could see, though his vision was blurred. And after a while he became aware of a very faint, sweet smell. Gas, he thought hazily; some sort of paralysing gas. <br>
Suddenly he realised that a man was bending over Standish, a man with a hood over his head. He was doing something to Standish’s hands and feet, and just then he found he was being attended to also. And the amazing thing was that though he could see his hands being lifted and put together, though he could see rope being lashed round them, he could feel absolutely nothing. It was as if his whole body had gone to sleep.