The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; Or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island

CHAPTER XVII—DEEPER INTO THE JUNGLE

“But—this ain’t out West, or in the Cannibal Islands. Wake me up and tell me if I’m seeing things. What! do you mean to say those savages would leave Tom here to starve to death?” gasped Bluff.

“Oh! no, some of them would come back by to-night or to-morrow to let him off. I imagine this is only some of Pet’s miserable work. He’s a cruel monster. I thought Andy Lasher bad enough, but it turned out that he had a speck of good in him, and Jerry touched it when he saved his life that stormy night. But Pet is mean and revengeful, a sneak, and a coward at heart.”

“There. I believe he has just discovered us,” said Bluff.

The boy who was fastened to the tree gave a groan, and then called out:

“Say, fellers, you wouldn’t go and leave me here like this would you? Set me free anyway, and I kin shift for myself somehow; but it’s tough to be tied up like a dog, an’ all because I knocked Pet down when he called me a name I won’t take off any man or boy. Jest slice a knife over these ropes, won’t you, please?”

He did not whine, but asked the favor in a fairly decent way.

“Of course we will, Tom Somers. You’ve always been an enemy of mine, but that’s no reason we should leave you like this. There you are!”

Frank purposely allowed his chum to do the cutting. He knew that there had in the past been more or less bad blood between these two lads, and he had in mind a possible repetition of the singular friendship that had sprung up between Jerry and Andy Lasher after the time when the former saved the life of the town bully.

“That’s ‘white’ of you, Bluff, and I ain’t the feller to forget it, neither,” was what the late prisoner said as his bonds fell away.

“You look bruised more or less, so I take it there must have been quite a fight here before they went away?” remarked Frank, questioningly.

The other grinned, though the effort must have pained him not a little, on account of the many scratches and gouges on his face.

“Did they? Well, I should smile, pardner. I only had one husky chap to stand by me, against five; but we pretty nigh cinched things. Pet Peters said he’d get even with me by leavin’ me here a spell, to tempt that wild man. But I had hopes some of you fellers might top the rise and give me a helpin’ hand.”

“Oh! I remember now, you’re the chap who was out West for a year herding cattle. I notice it in your speech,” said Frank, smiling.

“It gets in the blood, when you mingle some with them gents. I try to break off when the fellers kid me, but it crops out when I ain’t thinkin’. But say, it was ‘white’ of you to do this, an’ I ain’t got any call to ask favors of your crowd either.”

A sudden thought struck Frank.

“See here, you say you’re grateful; will you prove it?” he asked.

Tom Somers thrust out his chest as he immediately replied:

“I’m a maverick if I don’t; try me!”

“Then listen. You heard me say that our chum Jerry had strangely vanished yesterday while we were in the woods. I have good reason to believe those two hoboes laid hold of him, for some reason or other,” Frank started.

“Ransom—the old, old game, perhaps?” suggested the other, quickly.

“Well, I hardly think it is quite so bad as that; but they wanted to hold him as a sort of hostage, perhaps, threatening us if we didn’t get off this island. No matter what their reason, they’ve got our chum, and now we mean to try and release him. That’s why we’re here.”

“And you want me to help? ’Course I will, and only too glad to have the chance. If it’s a trail to foller, why I picked up lots of points out there on the Texas plains, and just you set me on the track,” said Tom, pulling on a tattered coat that had been taken from him ere he was fastened to the tree.

“Then let’s begin right here and see if there is any trail where your grub basket went off last night!” remarked Frank.

At that Tom started and turned a little pale.

“You said the hoboes, pard, and not that man-monkey,” he stammered.

Plainly he had conceived a great fear regarding the mysterious object that had appeared in the camp, and vanished with their provisions.

Frank laughed.

“Make your mind easy, I’m not intending to follow him. We expect to go to the place where my pard vanished yesterday, and take up the trail there. I followed it a while, but night was coming on and I lost it. You may do better, Tom,” he said.

“But you mentioned that hairy monster, didn’t you?” queried the other, uneasily.

“I only want to examine the track he left, so as to settle in my mind whether it was really a crazy human being or a big ape. Come over here and let’s see.”

“Huh! none of our fellers ever thought of lookin’ around. A snake-whip couldn’t a-coaxed ’em over this way. Like as not they expected the varmint was lyin’ in the bushes, waitin’ to jump out again. But I don’t pull leather when I give my word.”

He threw himself prostrate on the ground. In less than three minutes an exclamation announced that he had found what he sought. Frank dropped beside him.

“There she is, and a jim-dandy of a track, too, plain as the hoof marks of a cayuse around a snubbing post!” he exclaimed, pointing.

“Just as I thought, a man’s shoe, and an unusually big one. That settles one thing in my mind. It is no escaped ape that runs wild on this island. It may be a lunatic that has got away from the asylum over at Merrick, or——”

Frank did not finish his sentence, but nodded his head as though the thought that had flashed into his mind pleased him.

“That all here?” asked the other, a little nervously, although apparently relieved to learn that it was not a wild animal he had seen on the preceding night.

“Yes, I’m entirely satisfied. Now let us find the place where those Indian mounds are, and we can get on the trail without delay,” answered Frank, leading the way.

It took him fully an hour to accomplish this. First they had to return to the spot at the foot of the bluff where the canoeists’ camp had lately stood. Here his own trail was taken up, and Tom Somers proved to the satisfaction of the others that he did know considerable about following tracks through thickets and woods, for he led them unerringly until finally Frank saw the two mounds.

“There they are,” he said, in a low voice.

Bluff pushed his gun forward menacingly.

“Where?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

“Oh! I mean the two Indian mounds, not the hoboes. Come over here and see the trail made as they went away,” replied his chum, quickly.

When the boy who had spent a year on a Texas ranch punching cattle saw the marks, he announced it as his opinion that they had been made by two parties besides Jerry.

“I reckon your chum was snoozing some when they jumped his claim. He kicked and put up a right husky fight, but they was too much for him, and choked him off. I reckon one of them must a-been a boy, and the other a big man, judgin’ from the marks. Then, when they had reduced him to quiet they just snaked him off.”

“That’s what I thought—the big brute carried Jerry on his back, for there are no signs of my chum’s footprints around. Now, let’s start off. I’m anxious to know the worst, no matter what it is!” cried Frank.

Bluff brought up the rear. It was anything but light under the dense growth of trees and clinging vines. At times the tracker had to get down close to the ground in order to see what he wanted.

Bluff had slung his gun over his shoulder by the strap, and was holding Will’s camera in his hands, wondering if he had not been foolish to bring such a silly thing along with him on so serious an errand.

The deeper they penetrated into the interior of the island the denser the undergrowth seemed to become, until at times it was only with the utmost difficulty they pushed their way through. Others having gone ahead of them made it a trifle easier, perhaps; at least Tom Somers said so in a whisper.

“Perhaps we’re gettin’ clost to the place, now, pardners; so we’d better take our time an’ not hustle too much. Don’t speak above a whisper, either,” he said, as he parted the bushes in front.

Even as he did so Frank heard him utter a low exclamation, not of fear so much as of disgust. One look told the other what it meant, and he, too, feared that their plans would all be disarranged through an accidental meeting with a resident of the jungle, who seemed disposed to dispute their further progress.

There was the biggest wildcat Bluff had ever seen in all his life squatted on the low limb of a tree, growling angrily, and with it claws digging into the bark after the manner of a cat that is getting ready to jump, and will not be stopped!

True, Frank could easily have raised his gun and shot the ferocious creature dead in its tracks; but such an explosion must warn the enemy of their presence in the vicinity, and effectually prevent any surprise.

It looked like a serious problem, and yet it must be solved immediately unless they wanted to experience an encounter at close quarters with that fury.

“Hold up! give me a chance. Duck your heads, fellows; I’m going to flashlight the critter!” exclaimed Bluff. And even as he spoke, there was a sudden startling illumination that lit up the immediate vicinity like day.

CHAPTER XVIII—UNDER THE CABIN WALL

“Silence, Bluff. Let’s lie here a bit and listen. I hope we didn’t happen to be so close to their camp as to let them see that flash through the trees,” whispered Frank, dropping down.

Five minutes later they once more began to creep forward. At the suggestion of Tom Somers, all of them were now on their knees, Bluff, as before, bringing up the rear.

It was very thrilling work, and Bluff found himself trembling with excitement as he trailed after his companions.

“Sure he’s a peach at this sort of business, and it was a bully streak of luck when we ran across the poor wretch tied up to a tree,” he was saying to himself, as he watched Tom Somers gliding along, keeping an eye on the ground, and sometimes almost poking his nose against the earth in order to solve a knotty problem.

He hoped they would run up against no more bobcats. While fortune had smiled upon them on that last occasion, perhaps the same good luck might not always be their portion; and Bluff found no desire in his heart for a tussle at close quarters with the owner of a set of claws such as these beasts sported.

Frank and the other fellow seemed to be conferring in low whispers, and hence he crept up to learn what was in the wind.

“See anything, Frank?” he asked eagerly, as he pushed in beside his chum.

“Softly, Bluff. Yes, if you look through this little opening you can see it, too.”

“Why, it’s a house—a sort of old cabin, more like,” said Bluff, as he peeped.

“That’s just what it is. Now, search your memory, both of you—do you ever recollect hearing about any one living on Wildcat Island?” asked Frank.

“Sure I do, now that you ask. There was a queer man once who used to live like a hermit here. That was years ago. They found his skeleton in his cabin. Nobody ever knew what he died of, but it was alone, excepting for his dog, that ran wild till he was shot by a duck-shooter,” whispered Bluff.

“Glory! this here place is some on thrills,” grumbled Tom Somers.

“Never mind the things that are dead and gone. We have more to fear from those that are living. It looks as though the tramps have taken up their quarters in the deserted shack of the old hermit, doesn’t it, Tom?” asked Frank, in the ear of the other.

“It sure does, for a fact. Like as not the whole outfit is quartered there right now. And somehow I got a suspicion that our grub meandered this way, too. Seems like I see a familiar Boston baked-bean can lying there by the door, where they hustled it out after eating the contents.”

Frank made no reply to this insinuation. Whatever he thought he kept to himself.

“Oh! I wonder is Jerry there?” said Bluff, longingly, but managing to keep his tones lowered.

“That is something we mean to discover before a great while. I leave the manner of our approach entirely to Tom here,” declared Frank.

The outcast from Pet’s camp had proven his ability to be of great assistance to them, and Frank believed in encouraging a fellow. His words doubtless gave the other more or less satisfaction. When a boy feels that he is wholly trusted, he is very apt to do his level best.

“First of all I reckon there’s a better way to crawl up close to the shack than this one we’re on. So let’s trail around to the other side, fellers,” he said.

They succeeded in reaching the point he had in view. Even Bluff could see the wisdom of the move. The undergrowth was much more dense here, and extended quite up to the wall of the dilapidated cabin.

They could see that the new occupants had done some little rough tinkering in order to make a roof that would shed water reasonably well. From this it was easy to conclude that Waddy Walsh and his partner did not know just how long they might have to utilize this place as a hide-out, and thought it best to be ready to stand a rainy siege such as the Spring was apt to produce at any day.

Frank felt Bluff clawing at his legs. There was something in the act to tell him his chum was desirous of speaking to him, and he allowed the other to pull up alongside so they could put their heads together.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Didn’t you hear it?” queried Bluff, as if surprised.

“What? I heard nothing.”

“All that whistling on the lake. Sounded to me like that little tug, Rainy Day, that tows the lumber down to the outlet. She was close by, too,” replied Bluff.

“It must have been away off, for I didn’t hear a bit of it. Perhaps it was the tug, too; but she belongs up at the other end of the lake. What could bring her down here?”

“I had an idea that perhaps the sheriff and his posse might be aboard her,” ventured Bluff, and he was instantly seized by his comrade.

“That’s just what it meant. I hope Will’s met them and told how the land lies here. If that is true it means the beginning of the end?” whispered Frank.

“And perhaps we may be back in our good old camp by night time, who knows?” answered the other, joyfully.

Still, neither of them had the slightest thought of relaxing their efforts with regard to investigating the interior of that cabin, and ascertaining whether their comrade was being detained there against his will, perhaps in bonds, that cut his flesh cruelly.

Tom had noted the fact that the others were holding a little powwow, and hence he did not push on so as to leave them. In fact, Tom was not at all particular about quitting the society of these stout-hearted fellows even for a minute, while in such a ghostly neighborhood. Tom believed in spirits, and the story Bluff had told about that skeleton was ever before him.

When they began to advance once more, he also started off.

They were now so close to the cabin that if any one had been talking aloud inside those old moss-grown walls the boys could not have failed to hear the sounds.

There had been a window, but it was closed with a bunch of dead grass, and, of course, none of the boys thought of trying to remove this obstacle in connection with their obtaining a view of the interior. The only other opening, no doubt, was the door, which was allowed to remain wide open all the time for air and light.

Dare one of them crawl around the corner of the cabin and try to look in at that entrance? The risk seemed almost too much. Still, Frank remembered that they had two guns among them, while, so far as they knew, the hoboes possessed none; at least they had shown nothing of the sort thus far.

He had been thinking this over, however, and concluded that it hardly stood to reason that such desperate characters as these two, one an escaped reform school inmate and the other a yeggman tramp, would be entirely without some means of defence. Perhaps one of them might have a revolver which he had up to now kept out of sight for some reason.

Tom was pulling at Frank’s trousers entreatingly. Catching his attention, he made a gesture with his hand, as talking was now out of the question.

Following the line of his pointing finger, Frank saw what had attracted the eye of the boy who had been West. Some animal had for a time used the hut as a lodging-place, and as the door at the time may have been closed, had dug a tunnel under the wall at the back of the place.

Possibly the men inside had filled the hole up beyond the wall, but they had paid no attention to that which lay beyond.

Frank caught the idea instantly. It was to begin to tunnel under the wall, drawing away the earth piecemeal until an opening was made, when one of them might crawl through and make discoveries.

The idea appealed to him somehow or other, and, handing his gun silently to Tom, he set to work lifting handfuls of loose dirt, and gradually scooping out quite a hole. It was easy work because the place had only recently been filled in. As he worked he wondered what sort of an animal had made the tunnel under the wall; perhaps a wildcat, or it might have been a ’coon, hardly a bear, though such big game could be occasionally met with around Lake Camalot, especially along the headquarters of Lumber Run up at the other end of the body of water.

The minutes passed in this way. Several times Frank caught some sound beyond the wall, but could not make out what it might mean. He felt positive, however, that it was the home of the hoboes he had reached, and not a hiding-place of that strange creature so like a gigantic ape, but which wore shoes like a man.

Now he felt the earth growing lighter, as though he might be coming close to an end of his strange task. He was still digging away, eager to learn whether his plan could be carried out, when without the slightest warning something that moved came in contact with his flesh, and he felt his fingers seized by a human hand!

CHAPTER XIX—HOLDING BLUFF IN

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

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

“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.

CHAPTER XXII—HOLDING THE FORT

“Jerry!” he called presently.

“Tell me about that, will you?” a familiar voice said, and they saw the object of their solicitude clambering down from a tree not far away from the house.

In another minute the three chums were shaking hands with a vim. It was certainly good to see Jerry again, and Bluff could hardly keep from embracing him.

“Did they treat you mean, old pard?” he asked, looking darkly toward the cabin, as if meditating an immediate assault if Jerry complained.

“Well, it wasn’t a nice experience, I tell you; but on the whole they didn’t kick me more than a dozen times, and I reckon I sassed ’em enough to expect that. Glad to see you again, fellows, I tell you. Who’s this? Hello! what’s Tom Somers doing with chums of mine, I’d like to know?” demanded the escaped captive, curiously.

“He had a fight with the rest, and they left him on the island, tied to a tree?” explained Bluff, eagerly.

“Oh; yes, I see, and you rescued him, so that out of gratitude he joined forces to storm the stronghold of the common enemy. Say, this beats anything we ever met up with. That wild man is sure the greatest thing that ever came over the pike,” and to Bluff’s surprise Jerry also had a fit of laughing.

“You fellows seem to be tickled over something that I don’t just grab. I didn’t think you were the kind to laugh at a poor, silly fool that has escaped from the asylum, and imagines, perhaps, he’s Father Adam in the woods,” he complained.

At which remark the others had another burst of laughter. Frank looked at Jerry, made a gesture with his head, and placed his finger on his lips to indicate silence, upon seeing which, Jerry nodded and grinned.

“Tell us about your experiences, will you?” asked Bluff.

“Only a few words. The rest will have to keep until we’re settled around the fire in camp,” returned Jerry.

“But we have no camp, now,” retorted Bluff.

“What’s happened? Did those criminals burn you out, boys?” asked the other, with clenched hands; for he had a few things he prized among the traps they had carried along with them, and the loss of which would be deeply regretted.

“No, but we decided that while off hunting for you we couldn’t leave Will there alone; so we dug up stakes, piled the ‘duffle’ in the canoes, and he’s off somewhere on the lake waiting a signal to land again,” remarked Frank.

“Great scheme. I can guess in whose brain it originated. But you don’t know how bully it is to see you again, fellows. Hang it, if it doesn’t seem like a month since I saw you last. And as to feed, I’ve just had a few things pushed into my mouth as if I were a bird in a nest. I’m just longing for a decent meal again.”

“What happened while I was examining that Indian mound?” asked Frank.

“I was dozing when something landed like a thousand of brick on my chest. For the life of me I couldn’t say a single word. I guess I must have fainted, though perhaps I ought to be ashamed to admit it. Next thing I knew I was being toted off on the shoulders of the big tramp, a fellow called Biffins, who, I expect must be a yeggman, because he seemed to know all about blowing open safes in country stores, and such things,” went on Jerry.

“Just to think of it, and carrying you on his shoulders like a log!” palpitated Bluff, listening with eagerness to these disclosures.

“They fetched me here to this cabin, and kept me tied up part of the time. That night was a long horror to me. Sometimes they were in with me, and again off somewhere. In the morning I saw that they had made a raise of some provisions, and it was then they fed me like a baby.”

“But you got your hands free after a while, didn’t you?” asked Bluff, too anxious to wait until the other reached this point.

“To be sure, and commenced that tunnel. You see, the hole in the wall was too small to crawl through, and they were in the other room where the door lay. When I caught hold of a hand I seemed to guess instantly that it must belong to one of you fellows, and then the signal squeeze told me so. Biffins caught me just then, and threw me aside. They filled up the hole and drove some stakes down alongside so I couldn’t tunnel any more. After that I thought of the old roof, for it was full of holes. So I climbed up and got out that way.”

Jerry showed by his actions that he did not wish to talk any longer on the score of his adventures. He kept looking toward the cabin suggestively.

“What do we do now, fellows? Want to trek back to the shore and leave these two in peace?” he asked.

“Not for me,” answered Bluff, readily enough; “I say that after the way they held you a prisoner it’s our duty to turn the tables on the rascals. We’ve got ’em in a hole, and all we have to do is to wait until Mr. Dodd comes.”

Jerry glanced inquiringly toward Frank.

“Yes, we heard whistles a bit ago, and imagine the posse must have landed. If we could only communicate with them in some way now, and get them to come here, we might hold the fort meanwhile.”

Frank looked at Tom Somers as he spoke. The other could not mistake his meaning.

“Oh! I’ll go, all right, if so be you write a little note to the sheriff. Him an’ me ain’t on the best terms, I reckon,” grinned that worthy.

“Done. Got a pencil with you, Bluff—mine seems to have disappeared.”

The pencil being forthcoming, Frank dashed off a few lines to Mr. Dodd, and signed his name.

“Sure you can get to the beach, Tom?” he asked.

“Easy as fallin’ off a log. I’m off, then, fellers.”

Saying which, Tom entered the bush, and disappeared from view.

“Now, what is the programme?” asked Bluff.

“Wasn’t that a boat whistle again? It seemed to come from another quarter, too?” remarked Frank.

“I heard it, all right. Perhaps the tug is circling the island so as to make sure the thieves get no chance to make off,” suggested Jerry.

“You’re right, that is just what their programme must be. Meanwhile they’ve landed the posse to search the whole place over. I hope Tom meets up with them in good time,” continued Frank, earnestly.

“There’s somebody shouting in the woods,” remarked Bluff.

“Oh! that’s the Peters tribe trying to get together again. Reminds me of a covey of quail that has been flushed and scattered, calling to each other from the brush,” laughed Frank.

“Will they come back here again?” Bluff continued.

The others exchanged looks, and chuckles followed.

“Talk to me about your sprinters, I don’t think you could hire any one of those same chaps to come within fifty yards of this place after the scare they got!” exclaimed Jerry.

“And the dose of hot water in the bargain. My! but they must feel sore! I saw several bang headlong into trees as they galloped away. There will be some lumps as big as goose-eggs among that crowd to-night. And, after all, they don’t get even a look-in on that prize money,” chuckled Bluff.

“I’ve got a proposition, fellows. If the reward should happen to come our way I move we turn it over to Tom Somers. His family is poor, and perhaps this may be the turning point in Tom’s life, who knows?” said Frank.

“Hear! hear! Them’s my sentiments!” cried the impulsive Bluff.

“Ditto,” echoed Jerry; for since they all belonged to families of wealth the promise of a reward held no attraction for Frank and his chums.

“But perhaps if we simply hold these chaps where they are the sheriff may claim he did the bagging of the game; how about that?” asked Bluff.

“You mean we ought to try and make them surrender to us?”

“If it could be done. I’ve got an idea in my head. You’ll say it isn’t original, and perhaps the trick they were going to play may have had something to do with it. But suppose they made a sneak while we talked here and left us to hold the bag?”

“No danger of that, Bluff, while we keep a watch on the door. Presently we can circle around the old rookery and make sure that they don’t take up your plan of tunneling out. Jerry, I’m going to keep an eye on this tree with the hole in it. If our friend, the wild man, ventures forth, it shall be my pleasant task to hold him up. What do you say?”

Bluff looked at Frank as he made this remark, with uneasiness in his eyes.

“Seems to me you ain’t afraid of anything, Frank. That crazy man gets on my nerves, and I don’t think I could stand for a tussle with him at close quarters. Better be careful how you let him get hold of you. They say these lunatics are just as strong as grizzly bears, and this one must be, to see the way he swung about in that tree like a big ape. Ugh! Excuse me!”

Bluff shuddered as he spoke, and consequently did not see the look that passed between his two chums, and which was more of amusement than concern.