Читать книгу: «Bobby Blake on a Plantation: or, Lost in the Great Swamp», страница 10

CHAPTER XXVIII
A GREAT DISCOVERY

Now that the snake was certainly beyond the possibility of doing them further harm, the boys could inspect it at their leisure. But even in death the venomous reptile inspired them with horror. Fred shuddered as he looked at him and thought of what might have been if the snake had struck a little harder or had overtaken him in that desperate chase.

It was about a yard in length, and the body was strong and thick. The short tail was provided with a row of shields and there was a horny appendage at the end. The long triangular head had shallow pits on the nose and the mouth was very wide. The color was a coppery brown and there were reddish brown bands on the sides that became wider on the lower end of the body, giving an appearance something like moccasins, and from these the snake derived its name.

What the boys specially noticed was a white band that ran round the creature’s mouth.

“That’s what gives it the other name it’s known by,” explained Lee. “People call it the cotton mouth, because that white streak looks like cotton.”

“It’s the ugliest thing I ever saw!” exclaimed Fred. “I only hope I never see another. You bet that I’m going to watch my step for the rest of the time we’re in this swamp.”

“Once we get out of this, you’re not likely to see one again,” Lee assured him. “They’re mostly found in wet, marshy places and I’ve never seen one on dry parts of the plantation. There are plenty of them in the low-lying rice fields, and the darkeys stand in deadly fear of them.”

“I don’t blame them,” remarked Bobby. “But come now, fellows, let’s get along. There’s nothing to keep us here any longer, unless,” he added with a laugh, “Fred wants to take this fellow’s head along as a souvenir.”

“Not on your life!” declared Fred emphatically. “I’ll see that head often enough in my dreams as it is. Gee, Bobby,” he continued with a sigh of relief, “it was a mighty lucky thing you had that hatchet along with you.”

“And luckier yet that he threw it just right,” put in Lee. “That’s what comes from being a good ball player. One learns how to throw.”

“Don’t give me any credit for that,” protested Bobby. “I might just as well have hit him with the handle instead of the blade. Luck sure was with us.”

They left the loathsome reptile and made their way to higher ground, picking their steps with exceeding care and avoiding as they would the plague anything that looked like a thick stick.

Bobby was going ahead as fast as the tangled vines and shrubbery would let him, when he gave an exclamation and fell to his knees.

“What’s the matter?” asked his companions in alarm, running up to him.

“Stubbed my toe on something hard,” explained Bobby, rising to his feet and brushing himself off, “and barked my shins in the bargain as I went down. Kicked against a stone, I imagine.”

“That’s funny,” said Lee. “There are mighty few stones around here. It must have been a stump.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter much,” replied Bobby. “It brought me down all right, whether it was wood or stone. But just for curiosity, I’m going to find out.”

He kicked away the grass and twigs and bent down to look.

“Why, that’s queer!” he exclaimed. “It’s stone, as I thought, but it isn’t a rock. It’s been shaped with a chisel and it looks as though it had figures or letters on it.”

“How on earth did a thing like that get here?” asked Fred, in a puzzled tone.

“I can make out something like the letter C,” said Bobby. “C-A-R-T – why, Lee, I believe it’s your name!”

The next instant he leaped to his feet, as the full significance of his discovery flashed upon him.

“Hurrah!” he shouted. “Glory hallelujah! Lee, we’ve found one of the boundary stones of your mother’s property.”

“What?” cried Lee, all a-tremble with excitement.

“Are you sure?” queried Fred, dropping on hands and knees beside his friend.

“It sure looks like it,” affirmed Bobby, digging away like mad to uncover more of the stone.

The others followed his example and made the dirt fly, for all the world, as Fred said afterward, “like dogs digging out a woodchuck.”

A few minutes of hard work, and enough of the stone was uncovered to permit them to make out the inscription. It was time-stained and weatherbeaten, but read as follows:

S. E. Limit of property of N. CARTIER, Laboulaye Parish, La.

Then followed some surveyor’s signs and symbols, which to the boys were like so much Greek. Underneath these however was an arrow pointing in a certain direction, and Bobby studied this for several minutes with great attention.

“What do you make of it?” asked Fred curiously, as he noted his friend’s puckered brow.

“This arrow means something,” replied Bobby, “and I think we’d better follow in the direction in which it points. I tell you what we do. You stand here, Fred, and Lee and I will follow the line of the arrow. If you see us getting out of line, you wave to us and set us right.”

This was agreed to, and Bobby and Lee set out. They had gone a distance of perhaps two hundred yards, when Bobby’s keen eyes saw a rim of stone just projecting above the ground. They cleared away the moss and rubbish about it and found that it was another landmark, practically the same as the first, except that in this case the arrow pointed slightly in another direction, showing that the boundary line veered at that point.

They shouted to Fred and he quickly rejoined them.

“Now,” said Bobby jubilantly, “the rest will be easy. All we’ve got to do is to report the location of these two stones and a surveying party can go from stone to stone and so trace out the whole boundary line of the property.”

“Look!” exclaimed Fred suddenly, pointing to the right.

They looked and saw a figure just vanishing behind a tree.

CHAPTER XXIX
’RASTUS ABIMELECH BELSHAZZAR JOHNSON

“Who can that be?” asked Fred, as the startled boys focused their eyes on the tree.

“Search me,” replied Bobby. “But whoever it is, we want to talk to him right away. It isn’t likely he intends any harm, and maybe he’ll know a way to get out of this swamp.”

“More likely he’s lost in it, just the same as ourselves,” conjectured Fred, but followed Bobby and Lee who had already started in the direction of the tree.

When they were within twenty feet of it, they halted.

“Hello there!” sang out Bobby. “Come out from behind that tree, please. We want to talk to you.”

A woolly head peered cautiously around the side of the tree and then a diminutive darkey boy appeared in full view.

Recognition on both sides was instantaneous.

“Why,” cried Lee, “that’s the boy who fell overboard on the way down from New York, the one that Bobby saved by throwing him the life preserver!”

“The one with the long name!” exclaimed Fred. “Let’s see, it was – ”

“’Rastus Abimelech Belshazzar Johnson,” finished the little darkey proudly, with a grin that showed all his white teeth. “An’ Ah sure am spifflicated to meet all you young gem’mun agin, speshul dis one what saved mah life,” indicating Bobby.

“Maybe you can do the same for us now,” said Bobby. “We’re lost in this swamp. Do you know the way out?”

“Ah sho will,” replied ’Rastus, and a moment flash of his gleaming ivories. “Ah wuz bo’n an’ brung up only a few miles fum heah. Reckon Ah cud fin’ mah way fru dis yeah swamp wiv mah eyes shet.”

This was indeed good news to the boys, who felt as if a thousand tons had been lifted from their hearts.

“Fac’ is,” continued ’Rastus, “Ah cum along wiv a pahty what wuz lookin’ fur you-all. Dey’s only a little way fum heah, an’ Ah specs Ah’d better go an’ info’mation dem dat you-all ez heah.”

“You bet you would,” cried Lee. “Hurry up, ’Rastus, and you’ll find that this was the best day’s work you ever did.”

“’Rastus is going to be our Moses to lead us out of the wilderness,” cried Fred gleefully.

“Mah name ain’t Moses,” replied their deliverer. “It am ’Rastus Abimelech Belshazzar Johnson.”

“And a mighty good name it is,” said Bobby, “and one that we’ll always remember. But now let’s see how quick you’ll be in finding the other people and bringing them here.”

“Ah sho will,” replied ’Rastus, and a moment later he had vanished like a shadow among the vines and tree trunks.

“Thank heaven,” cried Lee as they looked after his retreating figure. “Before night we’ll all be back in the home that I began to fear we’d never see again.”

“It’s glorious,” agreed Bobby, “but after all, perhaps it’s all for the best that we’ve had to stay in the swamp as long as we have. If help had come yesterday, for instance, we wouldn’t have found the boundary stones. That’s paid us for all the trouble and danger we’ve been through.”

In a few minutes they heard the sound of voices, and soon a party of four men came in sight, with ’Rastus Abimelech Belshazzar Johnson proudly leading the way.

There were broad smiles on their faces as the boys rushed forward to meet them and it was hard to tell which group was the more delighted. All talked together, and there was a general hubbub until the excitement quieted down a little.

The leader of the party was a Mr. Lanfranc, the Parish Clerk of that section, a big, bluff, genial man, who was a great friend of the Cartier family.

“I can’t tell you how relieved we are to find you boys,” he said, as he slapped Lee affectionately on the shoulder. “We’ve been beating the swamp for you for the last two days. But it covers so many miles of territory that it’s almost like looking for a needle in a haystack. But thank God that we’ve found you at last, alive and well. Your poor mother has been almost crazy about you. Here, ’Rastus,” he continued, turning to the little darkey who stood by, all smiles and swelling with a sense of his importance, “you go right away to the Cartier place and tell Mrs. Cartier that we’ve found the boys, that they’re all right, and that we’ll be home before night.”

With another flash of his white teeth, ’Rastus was off on his errand.

“We’d go right away,” explained Mr. Lanfranc to Lee, “only we have a rendezvous with another party to meet them at noon only a little way from here. As soon as they know you’ve been found we’ll have a bit of lunch and then we’ll all make tracks for home. But how did it come about that you got lost?” he continued. “I understand you went away in the motor boat. What became of that?”

“Jim Boolus stole it from us,” replied Lee.

“What!” cried Mr. Lanfranc.

He listened while Lee told him of the confession they had extorted from the negro boy who had acted as the tool of Boolus, and his face grew dark with wrath, that was reflected on those of the other members of the party.

“The old scoundrel!” he exclaimed. “That caps the climax. For a long time he’s been the bane of this parish. But up to now he’s been so cunning that the law has had no chance to get a grip on him. But this time he’s overreached himself, and the minute we can lay our hands on him we’ll clap him in jail. It will be a double satisfaction to do that, because of the way he’s been trying to get your mother’s property away from her. I’m afraid he may do that yet.”

“No, he won’t!” cried Lee jubilantly. “We’ve found the boundary stones of the property!”

CHAPTER XXX
JIM BOOLUS TRAPPED

“Say that again,” cried Mr. Lanfranc, delight and incredulity struggling for the mastery.

“Sure as shooting,” affirmed Lee with a happy laugh. “It isn’t more than an hour ago that we came across them. Come here and I’ll show them to you.”

The whole party hurried to the precious memorials and examined them closely. The Parish Clerk was skilled in such matters, which came within the duties of his office, and he confirmed the belief of the boys that these were the only things necessary to make Mrs. Cartier’s title to the property absolutely secure.

“This has been a great day,” he said, as he rose from his knees after making notes of the inscriptions on the stones, “not only because we have found you boys, but because we’ve been able to put a crimp in the plans of the greatest rascal in this part of the parish. It was a clever thing, by the way, that you boys caught on to the meaning of these boundary stones.”

“Oh, as for that,” said Lee generously, “all the praise must go to Bobby here. He was the one that figured it all out.”

“Some boy,” said Mr. Lanfranc approvingly, and Bobby flushed to his ears.

“It’s a queer coincidence,” continued Mr. Lanfranc, “that we ran across Boolus, accompanied by one of his negroes, in another part of the swamp, no later than yesterday. He said that he was out hunting, but I didn’t see that he had any gun. But here come the other fellows,” he added, as he caught sight of a party of three coming into view, “and as it is pretty near noon, I guess we’ll have our lunch right now and hurry back home. I can imagine how impatient Mrs. Cartier will be to have you with her as soon as possible.”

The newcomers were quite as delighted as the first party had been, to learn that the missing ones were found and that their anxious search was ended. They chose a spot on higher ground in a clump of trees, and set to work on the abundant lunch with which they were provided. The boys, with their minds free for the first time in days, thought it was the most delicious repast they had ever tasted.

They had not quite finished when Bobby caught sight of two figures at the edge of a fringe of trees some distance away.

“Here come two other men,” he announced.

“Is that so?” said Mr. Lanfranc with some curiosity. “I wonder who they are. Hunters I suppose.”

“No,” cried Lee, who had been studying them closely. “It’s Jim Boolus and that darkey of his.”

“So it is,” confirmed Mr. Lanfranc, after another look. “Lie down flat, all of you. I’m curious to see what the old rascal is up to.”

They stretched themselves flat on the ground and looked through the bushes at the approaching couple.

All unconscious of the scrutiny, they came on, Boolus in the van, his eyes scanning the ground as they advanced.

Suddenly he caught sight of one of the boundary stones, which, having been largely uncovered during the investigation of the markings were now in plain sight. With an exclamation of satisfaction, he hurried toward it, and fell on his knees to look at it closely. Then he rose to his feet and rubbed his hands together in glee.

He beckoned to the colored youth, talked to him for a minute or two and then both set to work digging about the stone, using some implements that the attendant had brought with him.

“What are they after?” asked Fred in a whisper.

“I know very well what they are after,” replied Mr. Lanfranc in a low tone that held grimness in it. “He’s hanging himself with his own rope.”

The couple worked hard for perhaps a quarter of an hour, and then with great effort dragged the heavy stone out of its hole and laid it on the grass. Then after resting a moment each took one end, and half carrying, half dragging it, moved toward the edge of a bog that lay twenty yards away.

“Halt!” shouted Mr. Lanfranc, and at the same moment the whole party rose to their feet and poured out from among the trees.

At the sudden command, Boolus and his helper dropped the stone as though they had been shot. In a moment the members of the party were upon them. The negro started to run, but one of the men caught him and dragged him back by the collar.

“So, Jim Boolus,” said Mr. Lanfranc, “you robber of widows and orphans, we’ve caught you at last. You’ve kept out of the grip of the law for a long time, but it’s got you now. The evidence is so clear that the jury will convict you without leaving the box. You stole the boat of these boys and left them to starve and die, for all you cared – ”

“I didn’t,” denied Boolus, “and you can’t prove it.”

“This boy has confessed that he did it at your direction,” declared Mr. Lanfranc, indicating the negro.

“You don’t suppose a jury would take the word of a negro against that of a white man, do you?” replied Boolus, who thought he saw a ray of hope.

“Against such a white man as they know you to be, I think they would,” answered Mr. Lanfranc. “But let that pass. Just now, all of us have seen you commit a crime. Two minutes more and that stone would have been swallowed up in the bog. The removal of boundary marks is a serious crime and a state prison offense. You’re due for a good long time behind the bars, Jim Boolus. Come along now,” he commanded, cutting short abruptly the mumbling appeals for mercy that the detected wretch was beginning.

The whole party took up the march, and in a few hours reached the nearest town, where Jim Boolus was committed to the charge of the sheriff, who took him to the jail. There he stayed until, a few weeks later, he began his long prison term.

The boys hurried at once to the plantation, where Lee flew to his mother’s arms. She hugged and cried over him, as mothers do, and then Bobby and Fred came in for a welcome scarcely less warm. It was a glorious reunion and one of the happiest occasions that the boys had ever known.

“Do you remember what I said about a hunch this morning?” Bobby asked Fred, when, at the end of that jubilant day, they were getting ready for bed.

“Yes,” agreed Fred, “your hunch was right. It sure has been our lucky day!”

“And to think we found those boundary stones,” put in Lee. “That’s the best ever. My mother will want to thank you for that – when she gets over all this excitement over our return.”

“Gee, but we’ll have a story to tell, when we get back to Rockledge,” was Fred’s comment. “Lost in a swamp, and fighting a cougar, and a moccasin snake, and sinking in the mush – ”

“They won’t believe the half of it,” added Bobby. “It sure was a lot of adventures!”

“Well, now you’ve got to settle down to good times on the plantation,” said Lee.

“I wonder if we’ll get back that motor boat,” cried Bobby, suddenly.

“I don’t know,” answered the Southern boy. But it may be added that the boat had already been found and was returned to the Cartiers the next day.

Delightful days on the plantation followed. The boys avoided the big swamp, but they visited the cotton and the rice fields, and had the best of times.

“And now, back to school!” sang out Bobby one day, and here, getting ready to return to Rockledge, we will leave the lads.

THE END

Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author?

On the reverse side of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book.

By FRANKLIN W. DIXON

Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself

By FRANKLIN W. DIXON

Illustrated. Each Volume Complete in Itself.

By THOMSON BURTIS

Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.

Not only has this author had many experiences as a flyer; a list of his activities while knocking around the country includes postal clerk, hobo, actor, writer, mutton chop salesman, preacher, roughneck in the oil fields, newspaper man, flyer, scenario writer in Hollywood and synthetic clown with the Sells Floto Circus. Having lived an active, daring life, and possessing a gift for good story telling, he is well qualified to write these adventures of a red-blooded dare-devil young American who became one of the country’s greatest flyers.

IN THE AIR WITH ANDY LANE

By EUSTACE L. ADAMS

Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.

Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers.

By HAROLD M. SHERMAN

By JAMES CODY FERRIS

Each Volume Complete in Itself.

The Manly boys, Roy and Teddy, are the sons of an old ranchman, the owner of many thousands of heads of cattle. The lads know how to ride, how to shoot, and how to take care of themselves under any and all circumstances.

The cowboys of the X Bar X Ranch are real cowboys, on the job when required, but full of fun and daring – a bunch any reader will be delighted to know.

Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.

By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH

Author of the Tom Slade and Roy Blakeley Books, Etc.

Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.