CHAPTER V
THE FIRST CAMP FIRE OF THE TRIP
“Holy smoke! so that’s what the matter, is it?” exclaimed Buster, as he stared at the telltale track.
“A thief, that’s what!” breathed George, angrily, as he turned to glance at the neighboring growth of trees, now partly lost in the gloom of coming night.
“And to think,” remarked Herb, “that anybody could just slip along here back of these bushes, and grab our grub without one of us seeing him.”
“Oh! we were all too busy doing our regular stunts to think of such a thing,” explained Jack. “You see, Josh had all he wanted to do with the fire; some of us were putting up the tent the second time; and George had his hands full with his pet hobby, bothering over his engine. Why, it was as easy as falling off a log for him to just crawl up behind these bushes, reach out a hand, and then good-bye to all the fine stuff Josh had laid out so nice.”
“Well, if that don’t beat the Dutch!” exclaimed Josh, staring hard at the stone which bore such an important part in all this discussion, as though he could hardly believe his eyes.
“Look here,” continued Jack, “and you can see where the ground is all rubbed up; that’s where his knees scraped on the surface when he dragged one leg after the other, you know.”
“My! it takes you to get on to these things, Jack!” declared Buster.
Andy had said nothing up to now, but seemed to be just as much puzzled and disturbed as the rest. He managed to put in his oar at about this point, however.
“Musha! they do be sayin’ that this same ould island do be ha’nted; and ’tis me own silf that will be belavin’ the same afther this, so I will!”
“Great governor! he means it was a regular ghost, Jack, d’ye hear that?” cried Buster, throwing up his chubby hands in rank despair.
Everybody seemed interested at once; for, while several of the boys, if asked to their face might have promptly declared they never believed in ghosts; still, it was so very queer, finding some unknown party on the island with the bad name, that they were inclined to listen with interest when Andy aired his views. Ghosts—of course not,—because they were all humbug, anyway; but it was mighty strange how that stuff vanished so mysteriously.
Jack laughed out loud.
He was a level-headed, practical boy, and had not a grain of superstition in his whole body. Many a time had he and Andy argued and disputed upon this very score, and the one whose ancestors had come from the island across the sea had apparently so far as outward appearances went, at least, been convinced of the error of his ways, only to have the old belief crop up again unexpectedly on the first occasion. It was in the blood; and what is there cannot be argued away.
“Stop and think, Buster, and you, Andy,” Jack went on to say, impressively, “ghosts wouldn’t be apt to wear big boots, would they, and come creeping along, when they are popularly supposed to have the power of making themselves invisible?”
“That’s so, Jack, you’re right!” burst out George, enthusiastically. “Get your gun, and we’ll take a look for the rascal, and make him stand and deliver.”
But Jack paid no attention to this fiery threat; if they tried to carry out one-tenth of the things impulsive George suggested, it would surely keep them busy, well and good.
“And whoever heard of a hungry ghost?” Jack went on to say, so as to rub it in, good and hard. “This fellow, whoever he could have been, must have been hungry; for he cribbed our ham and stuff the first shot. Well, it’s gone; but thank goodness we’ve got plenty more; so I say, don’t let’s have such a little thing make us feel bad. Get busy, some of you, and fix the cook up with a second ration. Herb, cut two more slices off the ham, and Buster, you turn your hand at carving that hunk of fish we’ve still got. Such a trifle shouldn’t upset fellows who had been through all we have, you know.”
“No more it hadn’t!” cried Buster.
“Bully for the Commodore; he’s the right stuff!” exclaimed Josh, waving the stick of wood he happened to be holding in his hand at the time; and looking very much like a real French chef with his cute little white cap on his head.
“But hey, let’s first of all get every bit of our stuff in the tent, and keep a close watch on the same,” observed suspicious George. “First thing you know we’ll just have to abandon our week of fun down here because we’re starved out. We didn’t agree to feed all the stray fishermen, or hoboes in the country, when we laid in our supplies this time; ain’t that a fact, Jack?”
It was strange how all the other boys almost invariably turned to Jack when they had advanced a proposition; as though his guarantee was all that was necessary to stamp the suggestion as a clever idea.
“Yes, you’re right there, George; and while the rest of you are doing all you can to help Josh out, I’ll be collecting the duffle in the tent, and fixing the same so it won’t bother us much. If any chap manages to hook more of our stuff from under our very noses, he’ll deserve it, that’s all.”
So saying, Jack started to carry things in under the canvas, for the tent had been about fully erected at the time Josh made his astonishing statement; and only needed to be fastened down a little more securely at the base, so as to be ready to stand any sort of a blow, such as might come along in the spring time here on the upper Mississippi.
The air was getting a little “nippy,” as Buster called it; so that several of the motorboat boys had donned their sweaters. This made Buster start to again bemoaning the strange disappearance of his new one, that had the blue moon on the breast. He never could convince himself that he had mislaid it in the shed where the boats had been housed for the winter; and fancied that one of his chums must be hiding it from him; because every little while he would watch each one in turn, and with hope struggling afresh upon his rosy, plump face, only to have it die out again when he realized they were not dragging the familiar object out of their clothes bags.
Secretly Buster was determined that at the first chance he would rummage through each one of those bags himself, and make positive that his missing property was not reposing where it never should be found.
The supper preparations went on apace, and soon the most delightful odors ever sniffed by hungry cruisers began to permeate the surrounding atmosphere. Buster went into the tent, calling back over his shoulder:
“Just going to lie down a while on my blanket, to see how she goes, fellers. Fact is, I’m that cramped after a session aboard the speed boat that I c’n hardly stretch out. And then, to own up to the real truth, them smells make me just wild, and I can’t stand it around the fire any longer. Just call me when everything’s ready, Josh, that’s a good feller. Oh! my! but that coffee is scrumptious; and the ham, goodness gracious! whoever smoked that pig knew how to fix things so’s to set a hungry boy half crazy. Yum! yum! Don’t forget to wake me, now, Josh!”
But of course it was not long before supper was declared ready, and the boys proceeded to gather around the spot where Josh had set things. Buster was not called, in fact there was no need, for he burst out of the tent like a young cyclone just at this time, and hastened to find a place to deposit his fat form in the circle.
“Hey! thought’d you steal a march on me, didn’t you, fellers?” he demanded, trying to look very fierce, which was impossible, for he only screwed up his face and seemed comical at such times; “meant to just eat up my share, and then tell me you forgot all about giving me the high sign. But I was on to your little game, let me tell you. Could hear every word you said, and when Josh here told George to pass out his pannikin, that gave me my cue. Thank you, Josh, I believe I will dip in next; and Herb, fill my tin-cup with that coffee, please. Oh! ain’t I glad we’ve got started at last. That last ten minutes was just awful to me!”
So Buster rattled on until the others begged him to stop it.
“Let the food close that trap of yours, Buster, please,” said George. “That’s the way he goes, ding-dong, the whole blessed day, fellows; until I can hardly think straight, when I’m trying to figure on how to bridle that high-stepper of a motor of mine.”
They were soon all hard at work, and after the first keen edge of their appetites had been taken off, it was a merry group that gathered near the fire, eating, chatting and with a continual flow of wit passing back and forth.
Nevertheless Jack could not forget about the mysterious disappearance of the food, and every little while he would get up, to take a stroll around to the other side of the tent; just as though he half feared that some daring intruder might try to cut into the back of the canvas, with the intention of continuing his depredations.
“How about that old paper Andy brought with him?” asked George, after they had eaten all that was possible; and even Buster was seen to shake his head when Josh asked if anybody would have any more coffee, baked beans, crackers, or cheese.
“Say, that’s a fact!” cried Herb, “we went and forgot all about it. You see, Jack crammed it in a pocket of his old jacket; and all of us were that anxious to be off we didn’t remember to have the account of the robbery read out. Got it yet, haven’t you, Jack?”
“Sure I have,” replied the other, “and if you wait a minute I’ll get the same, so we can enjoy the thrilling story right here and now. Those kind of yarns always sound better around the blazing camp fire, you know.”
“Kinder go with ghosts, and all that sort of thing, eh?” came from Buster, who was eyeing the remnant of ham in the fryingpan, and heaving a sigh, as though it really gave him a pain to think that his capacity seemed to have been reached before the last bit had been disposed of; that was next door to a sin with Buster, who would gorge himself rather than see the least thing wasted, or thrown away.
“Ghosts don’t burgle any that I ever heard of,” observed Josh, calmly picking up the said skillet, and with a fling sending a small portion of the fatty end of ham flying into the bushes, at which Buster sank back, disappointed.
“Arrah, sure they do the quarest things ye iver heard till on,” declared Andy; and then gave a quick look at Jack, as though half expecting to be taken to task because of his clinging belief in hobgoblins, and all such things.
But Jack did not see fit to pay the slightest attention to anything so trifling just then. He passed into the tent, to where he had hung his coat; for with his sweater on he had not felt the need of extra covering. And presently he came out again, carrying the paper in his hand.
“Now, isn’t that too mean for anything, boys?” he remarked.
“What’s gone wrong now, Jack; I hope more of our provisions haven’t taken wings, and skipped out?” observed George; while Buster just sat there, hugging his fat knees and holding his breath while he waited to hear the worst.
“Oh! no; nothing like that,” came the answer, “but you see I had this coat on a good part of the morning, and I guess the paper must have got wet somehow, for there’s only part of the first page left; most of the account of the robbery is gone. But I’ll read you what there is, if you want. It’s the tail end, of course. Too bad it had to happen that way.”
“Go on, then, and let’s have what there is, Jack,” urged Josh.
“About where the lines begin to run even it starts in this way,” remarked Jack. “‘The only clues they have of the robbery consist, first of all, in several tools which Mr. Hasty, the blacksmith, identified as part of his machinist’s outfit, showing that they had entered his shop; and the fact that yesterday a dapper little naphtha launch, painted white, with a red band around the upper part, was known to be anchored just above town. Two parties occupied the same, one a well-dressed young fellow, with a sharp look about him; and the other a heavy man, more like a mechanic. The police have no doubt that these parties are the ones who broke into the bank, and cleaned out the vault. The smart looking young fellow must have planned the scheme. He was seen in the bank during the day, getting some information, and a big bill changed, and it is supposed that he took his bearings at that time he was chatting with the cashier. From the description the latter was able to give of his visitor it has been learned from St. Paul that the smooth faced young fellow was positively a well known and skilful crook called by the name of Slim Jim. The authorities hope to be able to get on to their track up or down the river shortly.’”
Just as Jack ended this report Buster was heard to give a startled cry.
“What ails him now?” demanded Josh, looking toward the fat boy.
“Just what I thought, he’s gone and overfed, and now he’s feeling a gripe coming on; he’ll sure burst some fine day,” grumbled George, groaning to think that all during the trip he must put up with such a rolypoly of a crew as Buster Longfellow.
“’Tain’t neither,” snapped the other, indignantly. “I c’n breathe as well as any feller present. I gave that little gasp-like because I was staggered, when Jack, he read about that trim little boat painted white, with the red trimmin’ around the gunnel. Want to know why, don’t you? Well, the fact is, fellers, I set eyes on that pirate craft myself, and not so very long ago either; fact is, just half an hour before we struck here. Now, what d’ye think of that, hey?” and Buster expanded perceptibly, doubtless feeling his own importance as the bearer of startling news.
CHAPTER VI
A STARTLING INTERRUPTION
“Whee!” exclaimed Josh, hardly able to believe his ears when he heard the fat boy make this astonishing declaration so positively.
George also expressed more or less surprise, though from the look on his face it was evident that he was beginning to guess something in connection with what his “crew” was stating.
Jack immediately took Buster in hand. It was the only way of making him tell all he knew, without forever “beating about the bush,” and giving himself lots of airs; for Buster seldom found himself in the center of the stage; and when such an event did come along he wished to make the most of it. What boy, wouldn’t, tell me?
“See here,” Jack went on to say, “you want to tell us all about that, now, Buster; because you’ve just made a startling statement; and we hope you can back it up. How could you see that boat, and none of the rest of us notice it; tell us that in the first place.”
“Shucks! that’s easy enough, fellers,” replied the other, bent on making the most of his advantage. “Tell you how that was. You may remember that George found himself away ahead, near the close of the run; and as George, he doesn’t like to hold up even a little bit, what did he do but spin away over to the other shore, and go down that, say about five miles above the upper end of this blooming old island.”
“Oh! get a move on, old Ice-Wagon; you’re as slow as molasses in winter!” groaned impulsive George; whereupon the fat boy turned deliberately toward him to say:
“Who’s telling this story, me or you, George Rollins? If I am, then you just keep your hands off, and let me spin the yarn my own way. Don’t expect me to be a whirlwind like you, for I ain’t built that way; you’re a match, and I’m a——”
“Tub; but never mind, Buster, please go on!” urged Josh.
“Well, of course George, he had his head stuck down close to his engine, watching every stroke it made, and couldn’t see anything, only when he bobbed up every little while to tell me how to steer. And we went in fairly close to the shore. All at once, in a snug little cove behind a tongue of high land, I saw the boat. She was anchored there; and first thing I saw was a young feller, just like that paper tells on, asittin’ on the gunnel, and directin’ a heavy-set chap, who was in jumpers, and looked like he was the engineer, deck hand and crew all rolled in one; he seemed to be mendin’ the engine, or doin’ something like that.”
“But how was it you didn’t call the attention of George to the boat?” asked Jack.
“It was cruelty to animals, that’s what,” echoed Josh, “because, think how joyful it’d make our chum to know that other people had their engine troubles as well as him?”
“Oh! he did tell me to look,” admitted George just then, nodding his head, “but we were going so very fast, you know, that when I did get my head up it was just too late; I had a glimpse of the tip-end of some sort of boat in that cove he mentions; and then the bully little Wireless flipped by like a streak of light. Give you my word for it, fellows, we must have been flying along at the rate of nearly twenty miles per just then, current and all.”
“Ah! rats!” ejaculated some one, and George did not know who had spoken, for the voice seemed to come from anywhere; but he just glared around, and then, shaking his head menacingly, he muttered:
“Better not be so plain next time, whoever said that; or it might bring on trouble. I c’n stand nearly anything about myself, but I won’t hear my pet boat sneered at. Yes, it was all of twenty miles, understand!” and he again looked at Andy, Buster and Josh, as though daring any one to express another doubt.
“Well,” said Jack, “here’s some fun for us, now. If that description of the robber launch holds good; and Buster didn’t see something that wasn’t there, then it seems that we’ve got the thieves, and all their plunder, here within five miles of us right now. That’s interesting, if true, as the papers say.”
George began to grow excited.
“Get that gun of yours ready, Jack, the trusty old Marlin that has stood between us and trouble many a time!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet, as though in a frame of mind to go rushing off, pell-mell, on some reckless errand.
“What for?” asked the more cautious Herb.
“Why, don’t it look like it’s up to us to surround that pirate craft, and capture the bold burglars? Remember what we did once before when cruising down this same old Mississippi! And then again, there was that stunt we pulled off up among the Thousand Islands later on. Ain’t you meaning to take a hand in this thing, Jack?”
“Oh! I don’t know,” replied the other, carelessly. “I really don’t see why we should be called on to take the place of a sheriff’s posse every little while, and risk our precious lives. None of our folks that I know of have any interest in that looted bank up at Lawrence. And these kind of men are a dangerous proposition to handle, let me tell you. It would be a different matter if they broke in on us, and we got mixed up with the pair in spite of things. Then we’d just have to do our level best to capture the lot, and return the plunder to the cheering citizens of Lawrence.”
“Hear! hear!” exclaimed Josh, pretending to clap his hands.
“But chances are, there’ll be something of a reward offered for the apprehension of the thieves, and the safe return of the money,” persisted George, although less strenuously than before.
“Well, what of that?” remarked Herb. “We ain’t officers of the law, sworn to take all sorts of risks, just because some bad men get away with the funds of any old country bank, are we? Let ’em lock up things better, or hire a night watchman as the people in our town do these days. Guess that goes, eh, Jack?”
“It certainly strikes at the root of the matter, as Professor Mapes would say, Herb,” replied the other, quietly. “And then again, how do we know but what circumstances might arise to make us take a hand in the game? What more likely than that those same fellows would pick on this island to hide for a while, until the chase for them gets played out.”
“Great brain, Jack!” cried Buster; “that’s as true as smoke. Fellers like them are dead sure to know that Bedloe’s Island’s got a bad name among honest folks; and that it’d be the boss hide-out for a couple of crooks that thought the officers might be rushin’ up and down the river looking for ’em.”
“Yes,” added Herb, “and if they’re as smart as we think they are, chances’d be they would have brought some paint along with ’em, too.”
“Paint?” ejaculated Josh, “now, I c’n understand why Mr. Kedge, the boatbuilder who owns the shed where we kept our craft all winter, has to have that stuff around because he is in the business of fixing up all sorts—say, looky here. Herb, d’ye mean they’d want to change their boat from white to something else; is that your smart idea?”
Herb just nodded his head. He was not much given to talk; but once in a while could be depended on to break in with a suggestion; and as a rule what Herb said was worth listening to.
“Fine!” exclaimed George, always ready to admit the fact when one of his mates really had a good idea.
“That’s where your head is level, Herb, me bye!” declared Andy.
Jack smiled, and nodded, as though he considered it a point well taken. What more natural than that two smart rogues, trying to escape after committing such a bold robbery, and traveling in such a conspicuous boat, should think to prepare themselves with a pot of black or gray paint, with which to completely alter the appearance of their craft while hiding in some secluded spot, such as the island in the middle of the river afforded?
“Well, we can keep that idea in mind,” Jack went on to say, “and for one night set a watch, so that if they should happen along we’d know it.”
“Huh! that makes me feel bad!” grunted Josh.
“What about?” demanded Buster.
“Here I’ve been counting on having the jolliest old camp fire the first night out you ever heard tell of. Been dreaming about it for a week past, and seein’ the flames shootin’ up, with the sparks sailin’ away out over the river; and here you go and throw cold water on that scheme right in the start. No camp fire tonight! Why, half of the fun’d be lost if we had to do the same thing every night, Jack, believe me.”
Josh did not look very happy over the gloomy prospect; so Jack had to cheer him up the best way possible.
“It would only be for the one night, I reckon, Josh,” he remarked, consolingly, “and if nothing happens before morning, why, after that you can make fires to the limit of the wood on the island, if only you don’t burn us all out.”
“Oh! well,” Josh went on to say, “if all the rest of you look at it that way, course I’ve got to give in, because majority rules in this club, always. So let the fire die out if you want; I’m not going to bother putting another stick on it. Guess, with our sweaters and coats we c’n be warm enough as we sit here and talk.”
“But all of us ain’t got sweaters,” exclaimed Buster, shiveringly, “’less somebody happens to have my blue moon one stickin’ at the bottom of his bag. Now, don’t everybody get mad at what I’m sayin’, and turn on me savagely. Course I mean that it might a-got in there just by accident like. And I’d be ever so much obliged if you’d look and see. A sweater is a mighty fine thing to have sometime, which right now is one of ’em; and when you don’t find it, you feel as blue as that moon mine had on the breast.”
Jack obligingly turned out all the contents of his bag, as did Andy and Herb, but Josh and George disdained to bother, saying they just knew it was no use, as they had a complete record of every lasting thing that was in their kits, and what was the need anyway; because a fellow as careless as Buster chose to leave one of his useful garments hanging somewhere in that boat builder’s shed, for he was always forgetting to fasten the lockers of his boat when he left it, and everything like that; why should they be put to such a nuisance?
But Buster eyed the pair suspiciously, especially Josh. Truth to tell, it was on this individual that the burden of his belief fell; for was not the other continually trying to play a trick on him?
“All right, I’ll know before a great while,” Buster was saying to himself, as he lay back, having wrapped his blanket around his shoulders, in order to ward off the chill breeze that found its way to them, in spite of the fact that trees and underbrush lay in dense masses between the northern end of the island and the spot which they had chosen for their camp.
They talked for a while, but by degrees it might have been noticed that for some unknown reason their voices gradually became more and more subdued; though if asked the cause for this hardly any one could have ventured an explanation. But possibly the subject they had recently been discussing, in connection with the chances of the two suspects making for the island, in order to lie there for some days, while they changed the color of their boat from white to black, may have had an influence on them all.
George was of course bothering his head about his one favorite pastime, and trying to puzzle out just how he could do something to his tricky engine in order to get more speed out of it, and at the same time stop its balky ways. Buster, on his part, was perhaps making a mental calculation concerning the amount of stores they had brought along; for he had a dim suspicion that before they wished to return home the stock would fall low, and the whole of them be put on short rations; a thing that would seem very much like a calamity to Buster.
And each one of the others seemed to have something on his mind; for presently absolute silence had fallen on the little group. This was a most unusual occurrence, for as a rule several of the boys dearly loved to hear themselves speaking, and would air their views at the slightest excuse for doing so.
Jack, sitting there in what seemed to be a reverie, had his head against the trunk of a good-sized tree. This may have acted as a conductor of sound, for he seemed to catch a certain noise before any of the others did; and none of them could be accused of dull hearing, either.
“Hark, everybody!” he said suddenly, in a low, thrilling tone, that seemed to startle his companions, for everyone of them sat up straight.
“What did you think you heard, Jack?” whispered Buster, unconsciously lowering his voice.
“Something that sounded like the gurgling of water against the side of a boat, and voices in the bargain,” replied the other. “There, if you try, you can get the same thing yourself. Seems to me there are push poles being used to turn a boat in against the shore up above here a little ways.”
All of them strained their ears. A minute, two of them, passed, and they heard the swishing sounds Jack mentioned, each being followed by a “plunk,” as of a pole being dropped into the water for another push.
Then a voice, rather soft and melodious, came drifting to their ears.
“That’ll do, Jenks; we can tie up to the shore here, all right, and in the morning look for a suitable cove to lay the boat in, while we get to work, and make the changes. Just think of it breaking down above this island again. Only for the old bunch of ground sticking out here in the river we’d have had to anchor. And, Jenks, I guess we might as well bury that box here as tote it any further, you know. I hate to leave a thing I cared for so much behind, but it can’t be helped.”
CHAPTER VII
THE TREASURE CACHE
“H’st! keep quiet!”
As Jack gave utterance to this whisper he set about gaining his feet without making any racket. And no sooner had he accomplished this than he started to stepping on what few red embers of the fire there chanced to be left; so that almost in a “jiffy,” as Buster would have called it, the last glow had been effectually smothered, and there was no longer anything to betray the campers, unless the khaki-colored water-proof tent happened to show later on, should the moon rise.
They could hear the new arrivals making a landing, and talking about starting a fire, in order to cook some supper. The one who had the smooth voice, and whom they could easily believe to be the younger fellow Buster had mentioned as sitting at his ease, watching the heavier man work at the engine, George’s style, declared that a meal on shore would not go bad.
“And,” he added, the words coming plainly to the ears of the listeners close by, “I don’t believe there’s any danger of our being come up with yet awhile. We’ve got too good a start on those fellows, to worry. Fact is, I wouldn’t care if we had to stay here in this snug nook all of tomorrow, and get things fixed to suit us. Let ’em go on past, and hunt for us; we could slip by the lot the next dark night, and give ’em the merry ha! ha! Ain’t that so, Jenks, old man?”
The other evidently said it was. He seemed to be a man of few words, and was quite satisfied to let his glib-tongued crony do most of the talking, which the younger man was well able to carry on.
Presently the glimmer of a fire through the brush and trees announced that they had indeed started a blaze, and were evidently preparing to cook supper. From certain conversation that followed concerning what this meal was to consist of Jack and his chums were quickly convinced that while this young fellow might be a bold and bad bank thief, he must have been brought up in the lap of luxury, judging from the fact that Jenks was instructed to have the “porterhouse steak and the mushrooms” for supper, together with coffee, and several other things that appealed to the appetites of hungry cruisers, but which did not strike the boys that way, simply because their stomachs had been satisfied.
“Listen to that, would you?” whispered George in the ear of Jack, whom he happened to be very near at the time, “he said ‘get it off the ice, and be careful to shut down the ice-box lid too!’ Think of these bold buccaneers cruising with such a luxury aboard as an ice-box? Whew!”
“Not so loud, George, or they may hear you,” warned Jack, although he himself thought that the fact was a remarkable one; but then the young chap must have been a high-stepper in his palmy days, before he took to evil ways; and possibly old habits clung to him still; so that, having the ready cash, he wanted to have all the luxuries going, along with him. Tenderloin steak and mushrooms sounded like it, that was certain. Perhaps they would be toasting each other at the end of the supper in champagne, at five dollars the bottle, Jack thought. When wicked men break into bank vaults, and make way with all the treasure they find there, surely they can indulge in any sort of extravagance for a short time afterwards.
The supper was finally cooked.
During this time the six boys had been slowly and cautiously creeping up through the brush, and between the trees, it being their intention to see what the two fugitives, who were fleeing before the officers of the law looked like.
But they did not dare go very close, and hence most of what passed between the precious pair at the fire came to them only in a rumble of voices. But they could at least watch them and it was easy to understand that they seemed to be debating some point very seriously; for once the young fellow went aboard the boat, and when he came back he bore a box under his arm, which he carefully deposited on the ground near by. And how it thrilled every watcher as he saw this act, for there could be no doubt in the world but that this same chest was one containing all the treasure these bad men had taken from that Lawrence bank.
But the younger man, who was smooth-faced and boyish looking in fact, also took a folded paper from his pocket, which he opened and then both of them bent low down over the same, occasionally tracing along its surface, with a finger.
“It must be a chart of the river!” George took occasion to faintly whisper in Jack’s ear, taking advantage of the murmur of the night wind among the branches of the trees overhead.
Of course this did not enlighten Jack any, since he had jumped at the same conclusion long before. But the fact of the others studying a map of the river’s crooked course was highly significant, he thought. It told that they realized the danger they stood in of being overtaken, and that they meant to lay out a plan whereby they could elude pursuit.
Jack was studying the pair as he lay there back of the bushes.
He wondered whether the younger one, who seemed to be at the head of the dangerous combination, could be acting a part. This idea came to Jack because, as far as he was able to see, the other looked as though he hardly possessed brains enough to carry him through any ordinary trouble; and as to plotting such a bold thing as looting a country bank, why, Jack found it hard to believe he would be capable of it. But still, he knew very well that it is not always safe to judge from first appearances. While the skipper of the white power-boat might seem to be a bit of a “sissy,” that might all be assumed for a purpose, to allay suspicion, a part he liked to play; and that should occasion ever call for a display of force and ugliness, the fellow might throw off that careless demeanor as one would an old glove, appearing in his real colors.
And while lying there, watching, and trying to pick up a sentence now and then, as the pair chanced to speak in a little louder tones, Jack busied himself in speculating what sort of chances they would have, did they finally decide to accept of the opportunity to close in on the two rascals, and bring about their arrest.
It would be taking a certain risk of course, and he did not want to expose his chums to any unnecessary chances for getting hurt; but all the same temptation loomed up large before Jack’s eyes.
At any rate, he thought, it would do no harm to try and keep a watchful eye on the pair, and see what they were up to. Had he not in the beginning heard the leader say that they might as well bury the treasure on the island as carry it further with them. Of course they meant to come back again, and get possession of whatever that small box contained.
The thought of getting hold of the stolen bank funds and papers gave Jack a nice warm little thrill. He was only a boy, and yet he knew how splendid it was to return home, and hear the people cheering him, while the town band played “Lo, the Conquering Hero Comes.” And once before had they been instrumental in recovering plunder that had been taken by wandering yeggmen; which fact had helped swell the contents of the club’s strong-box, and enabled the members to take several long and expensive trips.
Now those by the fire seemed to have finished their supper, for they arose, and the more boyish looking of the pair picked up the box again. It looked as though they might be about to hunt for some hiding-place, where it could be placed, and safely kept until it was wanted again.
“Get that sharp-pointed stick, Jenks,” he remarked, pointing as he spoke, “that might do in place of a spade. You see, we didn’t bring that sort of tool along, because we never thought we’d need one. But you ought to be able to scratch out a deep enough hole to cram this in. I hope nobody disturbs it again, that’s all. I’d hate to know that was so. Now, come over this way, Jenks. It won’t take any great length of time.”
He spoke with a slight lisp that made him seem much more effeminate than might otherwise have been the case. And to the alarm of Buster the pair actually started toward the quarter where the six lads were flattened out as close as they could get to the ground.
But then the shadows lay thick, and besides, before there was any real danger of discovery they heard him say again:
“I imagine this ought to do as well as anywhere, Jenks, just behind this bush, you notice. Now, see how you can root out the earth with that stick and your hands. I should think that a hole some fifteen or eighteen inches deep would be enough. There, it seems to work all right, doesn’t it, Jenks?”
The heavy-set man said that it did, and continued to labor on, throwing the dirt out of the cavity he was making, by a liberal use of the sharp-pointed stick, then following it up by scooping with his bent hands.
But not a thing did the aristocratic partner in the team seem to do in order to assist. He must be the recognized brains of the crowd, and as such was entitled to sit by, and give orders in a rather supercilious way, while the other did all the real hard work.
When Jenks had scooped out a hole that he thought deep enough, he paused to wipe his brow with a red bandanna handkerchief. Meanwhile the other carefully laid the box in the cavity.
“It fits first-rate, Jenks,” he announced, “and now you can cover it up again. Just push the earth in, you know, like that,” and with the toe of his shoe he managed to cause some of the dirt to fall upon the top of the box.
When presently Jenks seemed to have patted down the disturbed earth the other spoke again.
“We want anybody that comes meddling around here to think that some one has been buried, and then they won’t dare disturb things, you know, Jenks. So I’ll just fix this stone at the head as though it marked a grave. There, what do you think of that, Jenks? Takes some brains to get up a cute little scheme like that, don’t it, eh?”
Jenks apparently was an echo, for when the other took snuff he seemed to sneeze, as George could have expressed it. He immediately remarked that he thought it a very smart trick, did credit to the originator; and this pleased the other for he seemed to chuckle to himself.
Then the pair turned away, and went back to the neighborhood of the fire, where they settled down to enjoy the warm blaze; for as the night advanced the air was really becoming more and more keen, especially, as Buster thought, for any unfortunate fellow who had the bad luck to lose his warm sweater; for the sight of his comrades enjoying their woolen protectors only made Buster feel his loss the more.
Jack gave the signal for a retreat. He intimated in a few whispered words that there was something very important upon which they ought to have a consultation; and in order to do unheard they would have to go back to their camp.
CHAPTER VIII
JACK PLAYS SCOUT
“What’s doing, Jack?” asked George, carefully, as soon as the whole six of them were well away from the vicinity of the other camp, and where they could safely converse, if only every one spoke in a whisper.
“We ought to talk things over a bit, and arrange what we want to do about this matter,” Jack went on to say.
“But ain’t we goin’ to jump on that pair of scamps, and make ’em our prisoners?” complained Buster; and to hear his ferocious way of talking one might easily imagine that the fat boy was a fighter from the word go, when as a rule Buster would walk a mile to escape a rumpus, for he was by nature very peaceable.
“Wait and see what Jack’s got up his sleeve, you fire-eater!” remarked Josh, scornfully.
“We know where they’ve gone and buried all the loot, anyhow,” remarked George, as though that fact gave him particular satisfaction.
“And we c’n dig the same up at our convenience,” added Herb.
“That is, if they don’t change their minds before morning comes, and get that box up again,” observed Jack, dryly.
At that there were several little grunts and exclamations, such as would indicate that the others did not relish being tantalized in such a fashion having the treasure-trove under their thumbs, only to see it snatched away again.
“Say, we oughtn’t to let that chance slip us, Jack!” urged Josh.
“Them’s my sentiments, too!” echoed George.
“Count me in,” Herb remarked, quietly.
“Same here, arrah, by the token!” Andy ventured.
“There, Jack,” spoke up Buster, exultantly, “everybody is of the same mind, that we just ought to do something or other right away, so’s to get that stuff in our possession. It wouldn’t matter so much if the thieves did get away, if only we could go sailing up to Lawrence, call the broken-hearted directors of the looted bank together, and then say: ‘Here, gentlemen, are your lost securities. Rest in peace! E pluribus unum!’ Now Jack, don’t say a word against it, but think up some way that we can get hold of that box.”
“Oh! I’ve got all that figured out already, Buster,” remarked the other, coolly.
“Then tell us who’s going to creep up and dig for that box while the two robbers are sitting beside the fire, playing cards, because that’s what they started to do when they went back.”
“And ‘Old Maid’ it was, as sure as you live,” remarked George, as if astonished. “Did you ever hear of two ferocious pirates playing such a harmless game as that before? I never did, for a fact, boys. They keep me guessing right along. That boy looks too green to be the rascal they say he is; but I guess he puts it all on to fool respectable folks. It helps him in gaining their confidence.”
George could figure things out in fine style once he got going. The others, however, were not in any mood just then to try and decide what sort of a fellow that rather innocent young chap might turn out to be. They were more deeply interested in finding out what could be done about securing that hidden package in the box.
Already, no doubt, Buster, for instance, was seeing pictures of all manner of treasure snugly reposing in the box; and he could also imagine how his manly chest would swell with importance when, with his mates, of course, he entered the stricken town of Lawrence, and astonished the directors of the bank by returning their lost securities and money.
And the others were possibly in the same boat, for they had active imaginations, one and all.
Jack had said the matter was already arranged in his mind; and if he would only hurry up and take them into his confidence, they would feel greatly obliged.
But then Jack did not mean to hold back just to aggravate his companions; that would have been too small a thing for him to attempt. He had only waited to hear what each one thought of the scheme, and then he went on to say something.
“Now you can see for yourselves,” he began, “that it would be useless trying to take the whole bunch over there, and scratch that box up. One can do the business to a dot, and as I’m accustomed to scouting more than any of the rest, I hope you won’t try to raise any objections if I say I’ll do the job myself.”
He waited to hear what they thought before making the first move in the direction of carrying his plan out. But then he might have known that not one objection would be raised against his scheme, for they had the fullest confidence in whatever he proposed at any and all times.
The silence that followed was doubtless intended for consent; but Jack chose to consider it otherwise. He wanted an expression from each of his chums.
“George, how about it?” he asked.
“Why, I haven’t the slightest objection,” replied that worthy, readily enough.
“Josh, how about you?”
“Gosh! only too willing,” came the answer.
And Jack put it up to each of the others, until every one had signified his readiness to accept the conditions.
“All right, then,” said Jack, “that settles it for me. And now, watch me get busy, fellows.”
He once more started into the brush. All this conversation had been carried on, of course, in undertones. From time to time they could hear the voices of the other pair raised above the ordinary not far away; or it might be a laugh came floating back to where the six boys crouched, quivering in every nerve with intense excitement.
Why, Jack thought, even the laugh of Slim Jim, the cracksman, was very deceptive, it sounded so boyish and natural; just as though he did not have a care or a worry in all the world. He must be a pretty clever young chap if he could pretend to be such an innocent, when really he was such a desperate rascal—so that paper had stated.
Having quitted the company of his friends, Jack began to advance in the direction of the other camp. He needed no better guide than the glow of the fire they had burning over there on the shore; though very careful as he crept through the bushes to take a little different track than before, because he believed it would be apt to bring him closer to the bush behind which that pretended “grave” that was in reality a cache for stolen wealth, had been so roughly dug.
Once, as he raised himself to glance around, he found it possible to see beyond the camp fire, to the edge of the river, something that none of them had been able to do hitherto; and what should meet his eyes but a very jaunty gasoline launch, of a type that indicated more or less speed, since it was of narrow beam, and would doubtless have quite taken the eye of George Rollins.
Of course Jack chuckled a little when he saw the very significant fact that the boat was painted snow white, and had a nice red line along the gunwale that gave the craft a rather distinguished look.
Again into his mind came the description which he had read out aloud from the fragment of paper, concerning the boat in which it was positive the robbers of the Lawrence bank had fled down the river. A white launch, nobby in appearance, and decorated with a red line. Why, what could be plainer than that? White launches were not so very common on that part of the Mississippi; and Jack could not remember ever having set eyes on one before that was marked with red as this one appeared to be.
He kept creeping along, making no more noise than an Indian warrior might; or perhaps one might say, a snake that can glide swiftly, yet with hardly the faintest rustle of the dead leaves.
If he did make an occasional little slip, they were not on the alert, as red braves might have been. Doubtless they had not the remotest suspicion that such a thing as peril threatened, or that an enemy was within miles of the island retreat to which they had come to hide, and make preparations for deceiving the posse of the sheriff, should they chance to meet later on the river.
No doubt the other five boys had climbed trees or done something else so that they would be in a position to see him when he reached that particular bush, back of which the hole had been dug. They would not be human if they were going to allow this chance to witness the unearthing of the treasure pass without an effort to become spectators.
Jack found that the two beside the fire were making merry. He eyed them closely, and then shook his head, thinking that perhaps they might appear like desperate rogues to an expert sheriff, accustomed to dealing with rascals of every kind; but for his part he rather thought the boy was a spoiled son of a rich man, and Jenks some humble mechanic out cruising with the other. But of course, not being well posted in criminal matters, how could he, a mere tyro, be expected to be able to judge what people were, just because they laughed in such a care-free way. Slim Jim they said feared nothing on earth; slender and young as he was, he had laughed more than one sheriff to scorn; and snapped his fingers when traps were sprung only to find that he was missing.
Now Jack was drawing closer and closer to that bush. He had marked it well on the previous occasion, so that there could be no such thing as mistaking it. Yes, he recognized every twig almost, so closely had he made a mental photograph of the bush when the two were planting their “swag” back of it, and talking about making it appear as though it were a grave.
If they just kept up that riotous game of “Old Maid” for ten minutes longer, Jack felt positive that he could have accomplished his errand, and left the mound nicely smoothed over as he found it.
Jack guessed that they would hardly feel so merry when they discovered that the treasure-trove had been opened, while they were not thirty feet away, and the box containing the stolen securities and the bank bills carried off; or if they did laugh it would be on the “other side of their mouths,” as Buster might have expressed it in his humorous way.
Now he was doing even better, for he had to pass a little patch where the cover was rather slim and in order to successfully negotiate it he was compelled to flatten himself very much on the order of a flapjack or a pancake.
But then, they seemed to have no eyes for anything except the cards they were handling. Two more unsuspicious rascals it would be indeed difficult to find; at least that was Jack’s idea.
There was a piece of great good luck, for his hand had actually fallen upon the identical stick with the sharp point which Jenks had used so successfully when he was digging the hole in which to bury the treasure box.
Of course Jack picked this up, for he believed he could make good use of it in his line of business just about that time.
And now he had gained the bush, so that his hand actually rested on the little mound of fresh earth. It gave Jack something of thrill to realize that he was so very close to all that amount of loot which these two scamps had taken from the poor depositors of the Lawrence bank; for if the institution failed the loss would fall partly on poor people.
But he lost no time in getting to work with that odd spade, fashioned from a stick. When he found that he had loosened the top earth, he started to dragging it away with his hands, boy fashion; using the palms as scoops.
So he quickly got down to where he could touch the flat top of the little box; and then burrowing alongside, he managed presently to unheave the same, dragging it out of the cavity.
Then Jack set to work to place several stones that he had noted close by, in place of the box, so that the mound would still be as high as ever and look as it though it still contained the chest.
Once in every little while as he did this work, Jack would glance through the lower part of the bush in order to make sure that the two card players were still as much interested in their innocent game of “Old Maid” as before. But really he had little need to do this, because their loud laughter told the fact as plainly as anything.
Then followed the most difficult task of creeping back over the route he had taken to reach the place. It had been hard enough when he could watch those whom he looked on as enemies; but as now he had to go backwards part of the time, so as to know when to stop moving, and lie still, when he thought one of them glanced that way, it became doubly difficult.
But Jack had not been making an idle boast when he claimed to be a much better scout than any one of his five companions. Circumstances had allowed him in the past to have a certain amount of experience in this line, such as none of his boatmates could claim; and that was how Jack made such a success of his venture.
Now he had passed the crisis in his retreat and was able to move along faster, even getting to his feet, and in a couching attitude leaving the hostile camp behind.
When he reached the spot where the dull-colored khaki tent stood under the tree he found his five chums awaiting him; and every one of them was bubbling over with both a desire to squeeze Jack’s hand, while telling him in whispers what he thought of such clever work and at the same time filled with a burning curiosity to know if the securities and the stolen money could all be in that humble little box.
CHAPTER IX
OPENING THE STRANGE BOX
“Didn’t you get it, Jack?” asked Josh, carefully, as the Commodore joined the eager group beside the tent. “We all near broke our necks a-tryin’ to see; and I say you grabbed the box; but Buster here seems as set on it that you had to give up the job, because you got back so fast. Here, what d’ye think of that, Buster? See what he’s a-carryin’ under his arm, would you? It takes Jack to do things with a rush, and yet never have a breakdown!”
“Less noise, Josh!” cautioned Jack, “you forget who’s so close by. Even if the wind does rattle the new leaves on the trees, and the water churn against the rocks on the shore, they might happen to hear you. Lower that sharp voice of yours when you say ‘Told you so’!”
All the same every one of his five companions seemed delighted with his success. Buster had to even put out his hand and touch the box, before he would actually be convinced. Buster, you see, was something of a Doubting Thomas; he might take other people’s word on occasion; but he preferred to actually know that things were so, from his own experience.
“Why, it is a box, sure as you live,” he was heard to mutter, as though surprised that the whole thing did not turn out to be just a dream; and that he would soon wake up.
“And is it heavy, Jack?” asked George, anxiously.
“Oh! just so-so,” answered the hero of the raid, as he passed the article in question around, so that everybody could get the heft of it, even Buster.
It was laughable to see the way the fat boy took hold of the little chest; but then each one firmly believed that it contained quite a little fortune, and consequently there was something of due reverence for wealth in his way of handling the thing.
“I bet you they’ll be hoppin’ mad when they find out it’s been sneaked away from them after all their bully trouble in hidin’ the same,” ventured Buster.
“Yes, and to think of the cuteness of that fellow makin’ out that it was going to be reckoned just a regular little grave,” said George, with a chuckle. “Guess he thought that nobody would ever dare dig it up then, because they say, it’s sure a sign of bad luck to disturb a body.”
“But what are we going to do now?” demanded Josh.
“Jack, darlint, ain’t we a-goin’ to open the box, and say for oursilves what lies inside?” asked Andy. “Sure, ’tis mesilf that’d loike tell fale with me own hands all the money it must contain. ’Tis a bank cashier I’m intindin’ to be some foine day, and I loike nothin’ better than to handle cash.”
“Me too,” echoed Josh.
In fact, that was just what every fellow must have been thinking about then; for they were pressing closely around Jack, who had once more taken the box into his charge.
“But how can we ever see anything when we ain’t got a light, and don’t dare start one for fear of being discovered?” remarked doubting George, who as a rule could far excel Buster in this particular of being skeptical.
“How about the stars; ain’t they enough to let a feller see just a little?” asked Josh.
“Jack, what do you say?” came from Herb, willing to let the Commodore decide the question once and for all.
“First, let’s sit down and try to keep quiet for a little while,” responded the boy who had been appealed to, “because, unless I miss my guess, we’re going to have all the light we want to right away now.”
As the others followed his example, and dropped upon the ground, pressing closely together, so that they could get their heads in a small circle, and be able to do some more talking, Buster was heard to say, appealingly:
“Now, just what do you mean by that remark, Jack, I’d like to know? Where would we get so much light? Anybody got a flash torch along? No, that’s where we made a big mistake, you see, forgettin’ so important a thing. Speak up, Jack, and let’s know all about it, please.”
“Even if we did forget,” replied Jack, “we’re going to have the biggest torch you ever heard tell of, pretty soon; and that’ll give us all the light we want, take it from me, Buster.”
The fat boy moved a little uneasily.
“Whee! I hope now, Jack, it ain’t anything like the woods on fire you got in mind,” he asked, with a sudden vein of alarm in his voice; for Buster had once passed through a very unpleasant experience while in a blazing forest, and often had bad dreams on that account.
Josh made a scornful sound, which was a favorite habit of his whenever he wished to convey the idea that he looked on some remark of the stout boy as indicating an unsound mind.
“And us out here on a measly little old island in the middle of the old Mississippi, at that?” he observed, caustically, and then wound up with another “Huh!”
Jack at another time would have been amused to hear these two go at it, hammer and tongs; but the present was hardly an appropriate time for any sort of a dispute or even discussion.
“Suppose you fellows take a look around,” he remarked, “and perhaps after that you won’t need to ask me where I’m going to get my torch.”
After all it was sharp-eyed Andy who made the discovery.
“Arrah! and sure ’tis the moon he manes!” exclaimed the Irish lad.
“The moon,” echoed George, “now wherever do you see any signs of that same thing, I’d like to know?”
“Would you look at George, starin’ as hard as he can right into the west?” mocked Josh. “Since when has the moon taken to risin’ across the river, George? Reckon you’re a little mixed in your directions, ain’t you? Been bobbing over that engine of yours so much you get off your base. That’s right, turn your head around, and you’ll see what Jack means.”
There, somewhere not far from in the east the sky was brightening along the horizon which they could manage to see beyond the tumbling water of the river. Without a doubt it was the coming moon, sending a few shreds of her silvery light in advance to paint the way.
“I c’n see the tip of her face right now, apeekin’ above the line of trees away over there on the shore,” announced Josh, with a slight vein of exultation in his partly suppressed voice.
“That’s roight!” agreed Andy.
As they stood there and looked sure enough the edge of the moon began to slowly creep into sight. At first it seemed just for all the world like a silver pencil marking a bright eyebrow above the horizon; but gradually this extended, growing more pronounced all the while, until even a child could tell that it was the moon making her nightly bow to the darkened world below.
Not another word was said until every part of her now sadly battered disc had come into view. The moon was not near so beautiful as on the third night previous, when full; but there was still a deal of light shining from that yellow glove hung up there in the heavens like a huge lantern.
“She’ll do the business all right, Jack—!” ventured Buster, just as though he had been rather uncertain up to then.
“You just bet she will, bully old moon!” declared George, who was possibly more inclined to be sentimental than any of the six boys.
“Say when, Jack,” urged Josh; meaning by this that he hoped the other would not think the time had arrived to rip the cover off the little box, so that they could all have a peep at its glorious contents, before it was stowed safely away aboard one of the motor boats.
Jack looked a little doubtingly at the moon, just hanging above the horizon. “Not near as much light as she’ll be giving when she gets higher,” he said, softly; “but then, I guess we can’t wait for that. You fellows would just die with anxiety if you couldn’t see pretty soon.”
But while Jack was saying these caustic words, of course he did not mean anything. Why, he was just about as keen on wanting to see the contents of the box as any one of his chums. That was only a boy’s way of expressing himself.
Had there been no need of caution Jack could have knocked the lid off that box in short order, by taking the camp hatchet, and making use of it. The job was not apt to prove quite so easy when he found himself compelled to simply pry with the sharp edge of the said little axe.
He worked busily for several minutes, while the balance of the boys hovered over him, making various suggestions, and even wanting to show Jack how it ought to be done; for of course every fellow considered that he could accomplish the task better than any one else.
But Jack knew what he was about, and so he declined to hand over his job to the next one. He had managed by dint of pressure to get the edge of the blade inserted under what seemed to be the lid of the box, and was now engaged in prying it up, a little at a time.
“Don’t bother Jack so, you fellows,” warned Herb, who was apparently quite satisfied with the way things were going. “Leave him alone, and he’ll fix it all right. He always does, you know. There you c’n see the lid’s coming right along. Another pry like that, and you’ll have her, Jack. Eureka! there she rises, boys! He’s done it!”
Jack calmly bent the lid fully back, and then pried it loose, so that it fell over on the ground. Then he took the little box up in his arms and turned to get the full light of the low moon.
“Jack first, fellers!” cautioned Josh, “don’t you all crowd the mourners so. Let him take a peek, and then the rest of us c’n feast our eyes on all that bully money and stuff. Keep back, Buster, you ain’t the first in line; that’s George, and me, I’m second choice. Look at the stuff Jack’s a-pullin’ out, would you? Seems like rags or somethin’ like that, to me. Reckon they just stuffed the top of the box full to keep the coin from rattling around like. What’s ailing Jack, fellers? See him a-starin’ in like he seen a ghost. Gee! but it must be a great sight, all that boodle from the bank, to make our partner stare like that. George, get a move on you, and step up. You’re next, you know. No crowdin’, Buster. Keep your place in line, can’t you?”
Jack was indeed standing there, and staring into the opened box as though he had received something of a shock; but over his face there began to creep a semblance of a smile, or a grin, or something of that character, as he held out the box for George to take his turn next.