Читать книгу: «The Outdoor Chums on the Lake: or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island», страница 8
CHAPTER XIX – HOLDING BLUFF IN
Frank involuntarily tried to draw his hand back.
The grasp of the unknown, however, was too strenuous, and he could not do so unless he created such a disturbance as must have aroused any sleeper nearby. Besides, a wild suspicion had flashed through his mind. Perhaps this was his chum Jerry, trying to escape from his place of confinement.
He squeezed the fingers that clutched his. It was a sign manual used in the secret society to which both of them belonged in the Academy at Centerville. To his great delight the secret grip was returned immediately.
Then it was Jerry! He was alive, and even at that moment endeavoring to get away from those who were holding him against his will!
Frank felt like shouting aloud, so great a sense of gratitude swept over him; but fortunately he did not give way to such foolishness.
He put his head deep down into the hole he had made and whispered, making just the faintest sound possible:
“Jerry!”
“Frank!” came back like the sighing of the wind up in some of those lofty trees that overhung the lonely cabin with such a bad name.
Then the last doubt vanished. It only remained to get Jerry out of that place as soon as possible. Why, left to himself he seemed able to force his way to freedom, and with what aid they could extend surely only a few minutes would be needed to accomplish it.
Even as he thought thus, he felt his hand violently thrust back. At the same moment there was the sound of heavy voices in the cabin. Evidently one or both of the tramps must have entered the second room and discovered Jerry on his knees engaged in tunneling out.
There was no sound of a blow struck. Had there been, Frank could never have contained himself, but regardless of consequences must have rushed around to where the door lay, and burst into the place.
As it was, he backed away and joined his comrades, who, it can easily be understood, were more than curious to know what all this meant.
“Is he in there?” demanded Bluff, close to the ear of his chum.
“Yes, I whispered his name and he answered by saying mine,” came the thrilling reply.
“Good! good! let’s storm the measly old rookery, and hold up those hoboes at the muzzle of our guns. We’ve got the men, and we’ve got the guns!” said Bluff; but his comrade drew him down again ere he could rush forth.
“Wait! Be cool. This is no time to make mistakes. I thought of that, but they’ve shut the cabin door. Perhaps they begin to suspect some of us are around. It may be they even heard Jerry whisper my name. All we want to do is to see that they do him no injury. After a while the sheriff will be along to take care of these jail-birds, all right,” Frank went on.
He said no more, because they once again began to move farther away from the cabin walls. There was a chance, however, that one of the ferocious inmates might come out to investigate the conditions, so Frank did not want to go so far that he could not hold the fellow up and cause a surrender.
“What can we do now?” asked Bluff, as they crouched in a thick jungle, with the cabin lying on their left, and only some twenty paces off.
“Watch and wait. If one of them comes out we’ll make him a prisoner. The door is there, and no one is likely to escape us. Keep ready for a quick move, both of you,” whispered Frank in return.
“Oh! I saw something moving up in that big tree – the one that is half dead,” came from Tom just then.
“Where at in the tree?” demanded Frank, ready to examine into anything that happened to come before their attention, no matter how odd.
“Say just where that gaping hole lies – about ten feet up. The blame thing’s hollow, that’s a cinch, and some critter’s got a nest in it. Maybe an owl, but I’d rather believe ’twas a cat, or perhaps a real b’ar. Looky, there she is again!”
Each of them had his eyes glued upon the spot indicated in his low-toned communication by the ex-cowboy. There certainly was something moving, for while the light was not very strong at that particular place, still they could see an object projected from the gap.
Quickly it pushed farther out, and there dawned upon their startled vision the same ape-like creature that had terrorized the camp of Pet Peters’ crowd on the previous night. It seemed, as near as they could judge in that uncertain light, to be covered with hair, just as a chimpanzee would be, and its face was in keeping with the remainder of its hideous form.
Bluff and Tom crouched there and shivered as they watched this awesome figure scramble down from its perch by the aid of the broken dead limbs. It dropped lightly on the ground with a grunt, and then scurried off through the undergrowth.
Tom gave a sigh of relief.
“It’s gone, and I’m mighty near the stampedin’ point myself,” he admitted.
“Why, it was that wild man, as sure as fate. Oh! how Will must carry on when he knows I had such a glorious chance to get him, and lacked the nerve,” whispered Bluff, still shaking with excitement, or something else.
“It’s just as good you didn’t,” snickered Frank; “for the sound would have betrayed us to the chaps in the cabin.”
“You seem to be tickled about something – suppose you tell a fellow what you see funny about that awful monster? I’d like to laugh too, but I declare if my lips ain’t frozen stiff. Is it a wild man, or a beast? Why, I tell you his body is covered with reddish hair, and his face, will I ever get it out of my mind?”
Bluff was plainly much excited, but Frank seemed quite cool.
“Never mind. Later on I may tell you something I’ve thought of. But he’s gone, I suppose, and we can consider the cabin again,” replied Frank.
“Why not rush it? Given a log, and I vow Tom and I can knock in that old door just like you’d smash an egg,” pleaded the impatient Bluff.
“That would be poor policy. In the first place those are desperate men, who are wanted for robbery, and they know the jail is fairly itching to hold them. Consequently they’re ready to take all sorts of chances before giving up. I wouldn’t put it past them to fire on us, to wound, at least, if not worse.”
“But look here, they haven’t got any guns, have they?” demanded Bluff.
“We only guessed that they hadn’t, but we can’t be sure. Such ugly customers are hardly likely to go without some means of defense, and Tom here will back me up in that. Besides, they’ve certainly got our chum,” declared Frank, seriously.
“Perhaps you’re right, Frank, but I’d be willing myself to take all the chances in a mix-up with that crowd,” grumbled poor Bluff, who always seemed to be close upon the border of an opportunity to do something, only to have the glorious prize snatched from his hands.
He looked longingly toward the lonely cabin, as though he yearned to have a shy at that ricketty door. According to his mind, once it was down those tramps would be only too glad to throw up their hands, just as Pet Peters and his crowd had done when he covered them on the lake.
Frank himself hardly knew what action to take.
“If I only thought they wouldn’t take it out on poor Jerry, I’d be tempted to let Bluff work his bold little trick. But I’m afraid. I know what such men can do, with a long prison term staring them in the face. Some of them would just as soon he hung for a sheep as a lamb,” he muttered.
“Do you really think they’d hurt Jerry?” asked Bluff, solicitously.
“What do you know of that Waddy Walsh?”
“He was always a cruel chap, that’s a fact. I’ve known him to torture a dog in a terrible way. That was really why he was sent away. Nobody could do anything with him; even the town authorities had to give up the job,” replied Bluff.
“There you are, then. Now, he’s hitched up with a rascal much worse than himself, from all accounts. Think of those bold robberies all around. I tell you that pair make a desperate team, and I shiver to think of what they could do to Jerry if hard pushed. Perhaps, after all, we’d better – ”
What Frank was about to suggest was never spoken. Tom Somers jerked his arm to signify that he had better cease whispering; and as Frank twisted his head around to see what had happened to alarm their new comrade, he discovered moving figures approaching from the same quarter they had themselves come out of.
His first thought was that Sheriff Dodd had arrived with his posse. Indeed, it was only with a supreme effort that he refrained from leaping to his feet and wildly beckoning. Then he was glad he had been guilty of no such foolish act, for he learned that this was far from being the truth.
“They’ve come back!” exclaimed Tom, in a low tone, yet plainly disturbed; “looks like they wanted to make sure of me, and had follered us here so as to corral me!”
Then Frank understood. The flight of Pet Peters and his followers had been, after all, something of a bluff, for they had again left the western shore and landed on Wildcat Island; more than that, they were even now creeping toward the cabin, as if bent upon some desperate undertaking!
CHAPTER XX – THE ESCAPE OF JERRY
“One, two, three, four!”
Frank was counting the shadowy figures that came flitting closer, stooping over as they advanced, some carrying cudgels, and others different kinds of weapons as if they expected trouble presently.
“Five, six – what, seven, yes, and eight! Where did they pick up the other two members of the crowd?” he was saying to himself as he gazed from his snug retreat.
Then he noticed that a couple were armed with guns. This gave him a clue which he easily followed to a logical conclusion. On the western shore of the lake Pet and his disgruntled followers must have run across a couple of their cronies, who were apparently out hunting, though the law allowed of no shooting of game at this time of year.
These fellows may even have been acting with the sheriff, who had offered a certain reward for the apprehension of the hobo thieves. Upon exchanging stories it may have been decided to return to the island in a bunch, and make a bold attempt to round up the tramps, who were believed to be without any guns. That reward would look big in the eyes of these fellows.
No doubt the presence of the old cabin was known to these boys, and they had guessed that their quarry might be found hiding there in the heart of the jungle.
Frank laughed to himself at this new complication. It began to look as if Waddy and his pal would soon be between a lot of fires that must scorch them, whichever way they turned.
He put a hand cautiously on Bluff. That individual was so impulsive there could be no telling just how he might act, and this touch would serve to calm him down.
The flitting figures had now all passed the hiding boys, avoiding the dense thicket in which they were crouching, as there were easier passages around. Looking out, Frank could see them moving around the cabin, as if trying to ascertain some weak place where an entrance could be effected.
“Huh!” grunted Bluff, a little incautiously it seemed, “they’re going to do what I wanted to try – make an entrance. Some of them have gone to pick up that log, and others are peeking in at the window, where the hay sticks out. If it was bigger they’d just like to crawl through. And we sit here like a set of babies. Huh!”
“Hold up, now, and consider. What’s to hinder our letting them do the work, and then when they go to reap the results we can just step up and take the plum away,” cautioned his comrade.
“I see. Like the monkey that got the cat to pull his hot chestnuts out of the fire, eh? Talk about Jerry being a lawyer, he ain’t in the same class with you, Frank.”
“Watch!” was all the other replied to this shower of bouquets.
“Something’s going to happen to them fellers around there before they know it,” remarked Tom Somers, grimly, though, of course, he followed the example of the others and kept his voice down to the lowest possible notch.
“What makes you say that?” asked Bluff, always eager for information.
“I seen something poking up along the roof. I reckon one of them hoboes is going to come out up thar, and drop something down on Pet and the fellers. Gee! but don’t I hope he slams it in hard. It’d make my cuts sting a heap less if I see them guys have to take to the tall timber.”
Tom was feeling vindictive, and really, after having seen his bruises, and remembering how shabbily he had been treated by his pards, Frank could hardly blame him for such a desire. Tom was only human, after all.
Still, what he had said aroused the curiosity of both Frank and Bluff. They riveted their attention upon the roof of the cabin. As stated before, this being badly dilapidated, the hoboes had spent some time patching the same the best they knew how.
It was even now in a shaky condition, and apt to give way if any daring soul ventured to put his weight upon it.
At least Tom was right, for they quickly discovered that a certain portion of this roof was actually moving, and even as they looked what seemed to be a human arm was thrust through. Some one was evidently making an opening, removing the pieces one by one at a place where they had been fastened across a former hole.
Frank felt that there was something more about this than appeared on the surface. He also noted that the fellows on the ground had by now become aware that they were apparently about to be menaced from above; for he saw them crouching down under the spot from whence the pieces were falling, their eyes turned upward.
Then a head was finally thrust up through the opening. Bluff gasped again. It seemed as though he were bound to get shock after shock.
“Get next to that, will you?” he whispered in Frank’s ear, as he clutched his sleeve and jerked hard; “why, it’s our chum Jerry! Oh! ain’t he the candy kid, though?”
“Hush!” said the other, giving him a push, to keep him from rising in his excitement.
“Well, I take off my lid to him, anyway,” whimpered Bluff, unable to give proper expression to his feelings.
The boy whose actions they were watching seemed to have made up his mind that he must get out of that cabin some way or other. He had been halted in his tunneling operations, and perhaps there was some reason why he might not resume them, or try and open the door; but Jerry evidently could not be held in restraint.
It was possible that his captors were dozing, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, he was about to quit their company by means of the hole he had made in the roof.
Now his body had appeared. He was testing the rotten timbers first to make positive that they would hold him.
Bluff hardly breathed as he stared as well as he could, for it was half dark here, even in the daytime. He knew that a mutual surprise awaited all the persons taking part in that little drama, when Jerry reached the edge and looked over. Those crouching below expected to see one of the tattered hoboes, while possibly Jerry hoped he might find his chums awaiting him.
“It’s coming!” Frank heard him say, as he fumbled around for something; but he was so much interested himself that he did not give Bluff a second thought.
Then the creeping boy on the low roof of the cabin reached the edge. They saw him stretch his neck so that his head projected over; and there he remained, as if frozen stiff by the strange sight that greeted him.
It was not so gloomy there alongside the shack but that his keen eyes could see, under the heavy growth of rank trees, the many faces up-turned toward him. At the same time, Pet and his mates made the astounding discovery that it was Jerry Wallington, after all, who had been about to descend in this peculiar way.
Too late, Frank realized what was coming. He heard the old familiar “click” close to his ear, and a thrill of alarm shot through his frame; but ere he could even wink, much less make the slightest movement, the thing was done.
Bluff had fired another cartridge connected with that camera of Will’s. Recognizing the proper elements for a powerful flashlight picture in the remarkable combination before him, he had proceeded to carry out Will’s instructions, regardless of consequences.
Some of the clustering boys seemed ready to scamper off, but the voice of Pet recalled them to a sense of their duty. Besides, the prospect of becoming lost in those gloomy woods was not very flattering, and they huddled together.
“Hey, don’t yuh let that skeer yuh, fellers. It’s on’y some of that crazy Will Milton’s photergraphy business. Stick to it, and get that reward. Don’t a single one of yuh dar’ to run!” was what he shouted.
The situation was rather embarrassing for Jerry. He seemed to be between two fires as it were. If he came down, these angry boys stood ready to attack him; while to stay where he was meant that the hoboes would be able to reach him.
Frank began to wonder whether the time had not come for them to enter the game and stand by their chum. He had even arisen to his feet to make a forward movement when he saw that as usual, Jerry had his wits about him.
The boy on the quivering roof of the old shack was edging his way along. He appeared to be aiming for a certain spot where a big tree swept its branches down so as to brush the roof.
It offered a refuge for any one who could neither come down nor remain where he was, and Jerry knew he could make it. Now he reached the nearest limb, and like a monkey scrambled upward. The one who caught him after that would have to be nimble indeed.
“Hurrah!” shouted Bluff, unable to restrain his admiration for the presence of mind on the part of his chum.
Perhaps, given time, and the Peters crowd might have attempted some further hostile move, looking to the capture of the boy who had just gained his freedom from a prison. Frank was grimly making up his mind that, no matter what happened, he did not mean to stand idly by and see Jerry fall into the hands of these fellows.
“Say, are you going to rush ’em?” demanded Bluff, fairly wild to make a charge.
“Not unless they start after Jerry. Just now they seem to be bent on capturing our friends, the hoboes, and we can afford to let them fight it out until both sides are exhausted, when our time will come. There they go at the door with the log as a battering ram! Whoop! what do you think of that?”
Frank’s last exclamation was caused by a sudden movement on the part of the besieged; for the door had suddenly opened, and a pan of hot water was thrown out on the huddled holders of the log.
CHAPTER XXI – THE LAST STRAW
“Ouch! I’m scalded!”
“Skidoo, boys! there’s more a-comin’!”
“Why didn’t ye shoot, Bill, when ye had the chance? Gee! the skin’s a-peelin’ off me nose a’ready!”
No sooner had Waddy Walsh thrown the pan of hot water upon the advancing group that carried the log than he bolted inside again, and the bar was heard falling back of the door.
Then they heard the young savage laugh loud and long. It was this sound that aroused the passions of the crowd. They no longer thought of flight. With the burning sensation that came with the hot water application, each fellow ached to be revenged. The worst of it was, most of them knew Waddy well, and indeed he had once been a member of this same crowd.
Down went the log to the ground. All thought of using it as a battering ram had left them now.
“Git behind the trees, fellers. It’s us to the foolish house if we let that Waddy Walsh ketch us ag’in,” shouted Pet, who was rubbing his face quite as vigorously as his comrades in misery.
Upon this they hustled for shelter. Each boy took to a tree that happened to come handy, and feeling safe from a further bombardment they gave vent to their feelings in all sorts of characteristic shouts.
Frank was feeling a bit anxious about Jerry. What if these reckless spirits, aggravated by their hot reception, should try to take it out on the person of the boy they hated? Two of them carried some manner of shotguns, and there was no telling what they might not be tempted to do.
When, however, he looked anxiously up into the tree where he had last seen Jerry, to his delight he found that the other had vanished completely from sight.
“Where’s he gone?” asked Bluff, at this moment, he having apparently likewise just discovered the absence of the other chum.
“I don’t know. Perhaps he’s only hiding behind the trunk of the tree, or he may have found it hollow, like that other one, and slipped in. Watch what those fellows are up to. If they make a move to shoot at Jerry, we’ll have to put in our oar,” Frank answered with considerable feeling.
Pet Peters’ crowd was plainly at a loss to know how they ought to proceed. They saw that hundred dollars reward dangling temptingly before their eyes, and could not bear the thought of letting it pass without straining themselves to the utmost to win it. All sorts of things they had wanted so long could be bought with that easy money, and they were not yet ready to give up their chances.
“Hi! Bill, you an’ Sim git over here. I wanter have a spiel with yuh. Them guns orter fetch our game out on ther knees, if yuh on’y use ’em steady. Kim over, an’ you, too, Miser Lee. P’raps I kin use yuh!”
It was Pet bawling out, and that his word carried weight was manifest by the way in which the three fellows addressed hastened to cross over to where he stood back of the big tree that had the gaping hole in its trunk ten feet from the ground.
Frank could see them talking earnestly, and gesticulating as if to emphasize their words. Finally Pet seized the gun that one of the others carried, and taking a quick aim at the cabin he pulled the trigger.
“Bang! bang!” went both barrels.
The dead grass vanished from the little window under the charges of shot at such close quarters.
“Kim out o’ that, an’ surrender to the law!” bellowed Pet.
Frank laughed to himself at the words; it was more than comical to hear this boy, whose contempt for law and order had made him a marked character in Centerville, so loudly proclaim his sudden conversion.
Silence followed this peremptory command. Those within the cabin either did not care to answer, or else could not.
“Say, Pet, p’raps ye did for ’em that time?” suggested one of the others.
“Git out! Thar wa’nt no chance of that happenin’. Waddy just wants tuh fool us. He allers was that ways, yuh know,” answered Pet; but it was plain that the awful suggestion rather awed him.
“Shall I shoot, Pet?” asked the other owner of a gun, dubiously.
“’Course yuh must. Think I’m goin’ tuh do all the work. Blaze away both of ye, so long as ye got a shell left. Anyhow, p’raps we kin put in a claim fur part o’ the reward, fur holdin’ ’em here. Go on, Sim, I tell yuh!”
So Sim began to bombard the wall of the cabin. He made mighty sure not to fire in at that little gaping hole where the dead grass had hung until Pet knocked it through with his shot. If so be any damage was done to the inmates Sim did not mean to be accused as the guilty one.
Things seemed pretty lively for a time, with those two guns rattling away as fast as the owners could reload. From behind their trees the balance of the attacking crowd watched to see if there came any white flag of surrender. Beyond the boom of the guns, however, not a sound was heard, unless the excited voices of the eager boys were taken into consideration.
Bluff was plainly nervous. He tried to get up several times, and as often Frank pulled him down again.
“I just can’t stand it, with all that racket going on. Why don’t we have a share in it?” he begged, piteously.
“Because we don’t want to expose our hand. Give those silly chumps time and they will play the game to suit us. Wait till their last shell has been fired; then we control the situation. See?” whispered his comrade, soothingly.
“Frank, you hit me again that time. What a goose I am. Why, of course that’s the racket for us. Let ’em go on and roll their hoop!” answered Bluff, who at least was always ready to admit the error of his ways when convinced.
The shooting soon came to an end, for neither Sim nor Bill seemed to have any great amount of ammunition with them.
“That’s my last shell!” declared the former, presently.
“An’ I got my last in the gun. Shall I use ’em, Pet?” demanded the other.
“’Course, an’ send it in the windy this time,” growled the one addressed.
But Bill was too shrewd for that, and proceeded to sprinkle his bird shot over the surface of the ancient logs.
“Now we control the situation. Our guns are not useless, if theirs are!” exclaimed Frank, with a chuckle.
Still he did not seem in any hurry to open hostilities. Perhaps he hoped these eight followers of Pet might find a way to capture the hoboes, upon which they could appear on the scene and menace the enemy until they were glad to run away, leaving the fruits of their victory in the hands of Frank and his friends.
“Pet’s up to something tricky. I bet it’s the old game of firing the shanty. You remember, Frank, how he tried to burn us out last Fall when we were in camp. There goes some of the lot creeping up with armfuls of leaves. Say, are we going to stand by and see it done?” queried Bluff, warmly.
“At the last minute we can stop it. When Pet starts up to strike a match, then we’ll take a hand. No hurry. The chaps inside won’t thank us, remember. It’s out of the frying-pan into the fire with them,” came from his companion, who was observing all that went on with a critical eye.
“Looks like they meant to have a big enough pile of leaves there,” said Bluff, as the line of creeping forms kept depositing more and more fuel close to the wall of the cabin.
“Yes, and I reckon she’d burn like tinder if once started. Suppose those two hoboes rushed out suddenly, do you suppose Pet and his crowd have got sand enough to tackle them?” asked Frank of the recruit on his other side.
“They want that reward bad, I reckon, and would do some tall fightin’ to get it. Fightin’ is ther main suit, ye know,” answered Tom Somers, as he caressed the cut on his face tenderly.
“Now they’ve stopped piling up the leaves. Looks like they expected Pet to go in and put a match to the bunch. He don’t appear to hanker after the job, but to back out would put him on the blink with the crowd. There, Frank, he’s going to make the riffle, you see. Now, what?” panted Bluff, again seeking to rise, as he fumbled his gun nervously.
“There’s no need of our doing anything, after all,” remarked Frank.
“Then you mean to let ’em set the cabin on fire, and perhaps roast the poor hoboes before our very eyes?” exclaimed Bluff, in dismay.
“Not at all. I only mean that the job of frightening the bunch off is going to be taken out of our hands, for that wild man is coming back!”
“You don’t say? Where – point him out to me, Frank. Oh! if I could only get a chance to snap him off; but, just like the luck, the last flashlight cartridge is gone. Ginger! I see him now. Ain’t he a terror though? And won’t they go into fits when he rushes ’em? There he comes, as sure as you live! Wow! watch the circus, boys. My! my! ain’t I glad I’m here to see this!”
Tom Somers had said that his former teammates loved nothing better than a fight, but there were evidently times when such a condition of affairs was far from their thoughts. Such seemed to be the case now, for as they heard the shrill whoops of the outlandish hairy figure that came prancing headlong toward them, every boy took to his heels in a mad flight, heedless alike of direction or obstacles in the way, so long as he could escape a close encounter with that terrible creature.
