Of course he did not know that Alex. and Jule had left the water there, but it seemed to him that they would naturally select the nearest point as their landing place. Once on shore he sat down to await developments.
He was certain that Alex. and Jule had entered upon a dangerous expedition. The river negroes of the south are by no means as superstitious as is generally believed, and Clay knew it. He doubted if they would run far at sight of a face blazing with sulphur. It was his opinion that the boys would be the ones to start the race!
The negroes were sure to be armed, and they might be drunk, in which case they would not be likely to permit the outer spirits to bluff the inner spirits! Besides, they might have valuable plunder on the island, and some would be brave enough to remain and fight for it.
Of course, if Clay had gravely asked the boys to give over their proposed joy visit to the island, they would undoubtedly have done so, but he did not care to do that. His thought was that he ought not to attempt to control the actions of he boys, as they all stood equal on the trip, no one having authority over the others.
Besides, if the truth must be told, Clay, himself, was not averse to a little excitement! In addition, he was anxious to know what was doing on the island, and why the negroes were assembled there.
Another feature of the situation was that a watcher on the beach saw all three forms in the water as they left the boat! When the lads landed, Alex. and Jule at the clump of willows and Clay farther to the west, this watcher lost no time in communicating with his fellows in their rough-and-ready camp near the center of the little “tow-head.”
The noise made by the negroes in getting ready to meet whatever attack might be made upon them gave the location of their camp to Clay, and he pressed as close to it as it was possible for him to do without advancing into the open, where he might have been seen during any moment of moonlight.
It was a chill night, and there was a wind blowing from the west which seemed to cut into his bones, but Clay sat down not far from the camp and awaited the opening of the drama! He could hear the campers moving about, but could not distinguish the words spoken. The moon sank out of sight for good before any movement was made.
Then Clay saw a figure fit to frighten the most courageous leave the fringe of willows and advance deliberately toward the center of the island. He had hard work to make himself understand that the thing he saw was only one of the boys. If the very Old Scratch himself had set foot on the “tow-head” he could not have presented a more sinister appearance. Clay watched the advance of the figure with bated breath.
In a second after the figure appeared, flaming of face and pointing hands, with a great cross of fire on what appeared to be a naked breast, a long, wavering cry went up from the camp, and then there came a rush of feet. Clay could not tell at first which way the feet were going, but a moment convinced him that they were putting a swift distance between the camp and the devil-figure approaching.
When a second figure, marked like the first, appeared the shrieks of alarm, the running of frightened feet, were drowned by the commands of a bull-like voice to stop the panic-stricken flight and use revolver and knife!
CHAPTER XII—HALF FULL OF DIAMONDS
At that moment, notwithstanding the commotion and the threats of coming trouble, Clay felt like congratulating Alex. and Jule on the manner in which they were carrying out their reckless plans. More blood-curdling shrieks than now proceeded from the throats of the boys he had never heard.
Knowing that defeat, perhaps death, would instantly follow on the heels of retreat, Alex. and Jule charged the camp, swinging their fire-coated arms and uttering cries which it did not seem possible could issue forth from human lips. There naturally followed a swifter flight on the part of the negroes.
But three or four black men, less superstitious, or having more at stake, than the others, stood their ground, calling to their companions that it was a white man’s trick, and that they should return and ascertain by the use of steel and lead just how human their visitors were. For a time the voices of the courageous ones did not check the mad rush for the river, but finally a group gathered on the beach and engaged in conversation, which, of course, Clay could not hear.
Alex. and Jule now “disappeared” in approved “ghost” fashion—that is, they drew black cloths over their faces and hands so that their flaming make-up could no longer be seen. In fact, it was now so dark, the moon having set, that even the figures of the boys could not be seen when they crouched on the ground. The negroes on the beach were only visible because they formed quite a large group and kept constantly in excited motion.
Clay wondered if the boys would now understand that their trick had failed and make for the Rambler. At the first rush the negroes had fled, but they were now listening to arguments intended to reassure them, and the ultimate result was not in doubt.
Before long the black men would swarm back to the camp, perhaps make a thorough search of the entire “tow-head,” in which case the boys were sure to be discovered, unless they made their way back to the boat before the search began. Clay placed himself between the camp and the boat and waited, thinking that his reserve weapons might be needed.
The information that he had seen figures leaving the boat just before the advent of the “ghosts,” as given by the watcher, had instant effect on the negroes. They swarmed back toward the camp, making a great many more threats than Clay thought was necessary! Two familiar figures now came dashing toward Clay, and he called out softly to them to halt a moment. The figures developed into two rather frightened boys as soon as they came close to the watcher.
“Me for the boat!” panted Jule. “I reckon these coons know a ghost when they see one—not! Me for the feathers, too when I light! Come on, Alex!”
“Go on and get aboard!” Alex. urged. “I want to see Clay a moment.”
Jule darted away and was soon out of sight. Although he had carefully made up as a disciple of Old Nick, he was careful not to exhibit any of his trade-marks as he moved towards the boat! Clay and Alex. stood listening to the commotion for a moment, and then the latter panted, taking Clay’s arm as he did so, and drawing him back toward the camp:
“When I got up there,” he said, “I stumbled over some one lying on the ground! I felt about for a minute and found pretty much rags! Then some one told me to get off the island or I would be murdered.”
“Go on!” Clay said excitedly. “We have no time to lose if we are to investigate this matter. Was the person you talked with a prisoner?”
“Sure he was. He asked me to cut the cords, but I had no knife with me and so had to make an effort to untie them. The captive talked while I was at work on the knots, and who do you think it was. Give you three guesses!”
“Hurry! Hurry! We have no time to lose, I tell you, if the captive is in need of our assistance. Who is it?”
“The kid who came on board the Rambler at Cairo!” replied Alex.
“And you had to leave him there—tied?”
“What else could I do?” asked Alex. “I didn’t have even a knife! This foolish bathing suit has no pockets, so I brought no arms with me. What could I do, when the coons were making a rush for the camp?”
“We’ve got to get that kid!” Clay cried.
“If they would only go away for a minute,” Alex. declared, “I could get him and bring him to the boat, ropes and all!”
A shot came from the Rambler, and, turning, the boys saw that the craft was aglow with electric lights! Instantly they crouched lower in the willows, for the strong prow lamp cast a ray far over on the “tow-head.”
Another shot came from the boat, and then the negroes at the camp made a break for the beach, passing within a rod of where the two boys lay concealed.
“Shall we take them in the rear?” asked Alex. “They have attacked the boat.”
“Don’t shoot!” warned Clay. “Remember that we had no right to molest them in the first place! The boys on the boat are awake, or the lights wouldn’t be on. They can protect themselves, I reckon. I hope Jule is in a safe place!”
The lights were still on, but not a person could be seen. Then more shots came, and Clay saw that the boys were firing through the small port holes in the gunwale, and that the negroes were contenting themselves with firing volley after volley at the cabin windows, which were now void of glass!
While the boys on shore watched with intense anxiety, the motors of the Rambler were heard, and then the boat began to drop down stream.
“I wonder if Jule got on board?” Alex. asked.
“If he met with no opposition on the way he probably did,” was the reply. “At least we must suppose that he is either on the boat or in hiding on the island.”
“Come on, then!” shouted Alex. “We’ll make a success of this excursion yet. We’ll take possession of the camp. I want a confidential talk with the prisoner!”
“You’ll be getting a confidential talk with a bullet pretty soon, if you don’t pay more attention to getting off!” Clay answered. “The boat has dropped down, and the negroes will soon be back here. It is another swim! What?”
Almost before Clay had done speaking Alex. was off in the darkness. Clay could just see his figure moving along the ground, so he followed on after him, wondering what new trick the lad had in mind. The light from the Rambler grew fainter every instant. For some reason unknown to Clay, the boat was being moved down stream a long way.
In a moment Clay saw Alex. bending over a figure lying on the ground at the edge of a rude windbreak of willow bushes, cut and woven together.
“Where’s the coon’s boat?” he asked, hurriedly.
Clay smiled happily. He had not thought of that!
“Off there on the east side,” replied the boy. “Have you got a knife yet?”
For answer Alex. seized the lad by the feet and called out to Clay:
“Catch him by the shoulders, and we’ll carry him!”
Clay was not slow in following the suggestion, and the boys soon had the captive between the fringe of willows and the water. The boat was there, a large, four-oared craft which was partly filled with plunder taken from the river. The negroes were evidently making a business of gathering supplies from the flood. Just then Jule came up, out of breath from a stumbling run in the dark.
The captive was placed on board, and then Clay seized a pair of heavy oars.
“Take the helm,” he called to Alex., “and you help with the oars, Jule,” he added.
Then the craft shot out into the current. When she came around the corner of the little island, where the light from the Rambler struck her a series of frantic shouts came from the men huddled on the south bank, and a few shots were fired, but, the current running swiftly, they were soon out of range.
“Let ’em swim,” chuckled Alex. “A bath will be good for what ails them!”
“Alex.,” remarked Clay, panting with the heavy work at the oars, “you deserve a Carnegie medal!”
“Sure!” chuckled the other. “I’m the Johnny-on-the-Spot when it comes to prescribing healthful stunts for the working classes! Where is that boat going?” he added as the Rambler disappeared around a distant bend in the stream.
“This is what comes of running off in the night without telling the boys what we were up to!” panted Jule. “This is some boat, when it comes to weight.”
In ten minutes the lights of the Rambler were in sight again, the rowboat having passed around the bend. Then Clay took out a searchlight and began making signals to those on board. Directly an answering signal came from the boat, and then the lights halted, turned, and came up stream.
“You’re a nice lot of watchmen!” Case called out, as the two boats came close together. “We thought you had caught a floater boat and drifted down stream.”
“This,” grinned Alex., “is the only old and original relief expedition. We have with us to-night a brand snatched from the coons!”
“Hand down a knife!” called Clay. “This lad is capable of climbing on board by his own self! And swing around a little so as not to tip us over!”
With no little difficulty the boys were landed on the deck of the Rambler. Case regarded the visitor with a quizzical smile as he bent over him.
“Did you take a dive at Cairo,” he asked, “and come up at Memphis?”
The boy answered only by a weary smile, and Mose stood staring at him with widening eyes, while Captain Joe sniffed suspiciously at his worn garments. Teddy invited him to a boxing match!
“I’ll go you boys a dollar to an apple,” Case observed, “that this kid is still empty! He looks it! Anyway, I’ll go and get him something to eat!”
“And don’t forget the heroic rescuers!” Alex. called out. “I haven’t had a thing to eat since supper! Say, kid,” he went on, “what’s your name?”
“Chester Vinton,” was the reply, in a frightened voice. “I’m running away.”
“You wasn’t running very fast when we found you!” commented Alex. “How did you come to mix with those wreckers?”
“I was on a raft,” was the answer, “and I was hungry, and I saw them on the island, and asked them for something to eat. They tied me up!”
“Why didn’t you stay on board the boat at Cairo?” asked Clay.
“I was afraid,” was the reply.
“Red is back up the river looking for you,” Jule observed, still shivering from his exposure to the cold water. “He took passage with us part of the way down.”
“I should think he did!” chuckled Alex. “And he was a first cabin passenger at that!”
“Well,” Clay decided, presently, “perhaps we’d better feed this boy and put him to bed. He looks as if he’d been up against something hard.”
The lad ate ravenously, and then began undressing. Clay sat in the cabin with him. He was full of wonderment at this second meeting with the boy, and wanted to ask him a hundred questions, but decided to wait until the lad was in better condition.
As the visitor threw his ragged clothes off a thud on the floor told of something of considerable weight in one of the pockets.
“Do you carry a gun, lad?” he asked, stooping over to lift the trousers.
The boy bounded forward and snatched at the trousers, but Clay was too quick for him. The article which had made the noise on the floor was a leather bag.
An investigation showed that it was half full of diamonds of exceptional quality!
CHAPTER XIII—A RIVER ROBBER IN A NEW ROLE
With half a dozen stones of splendid value rolling over the palm of his hand, Clay regarded the boy accusingly.
“Where did you get the diamonds?” he asked.
The boy did not answer. Clay had expected confusion and shame. Instead he met with anger and reproach. Chester (“Chet” from that day forward) shot forward like an arrow and tried to wrest the bag from his hands. Clay put him back tolerantly.
“Give them back to me!” Chet shouted so loudly that the boys out on the deck entered the cabin and stood in an astonished group about the two.
Clay, grasping the bag and the lose gems, held his hands high above his head.
“Where did you get them?” he persisted.
“Give them back to me!” yelled Chet. “You’ve been following me for this, have you? You’re all as bad as the river thieves I’ve met up with! Give them to me!”
“What do you think of the little one for a diamond dip?” asked Alex., pointing at the flushed face of the agitated boy. “He’s some clever!”
“I reckon he belongs with Red, the Robber, all right!” Jule put in.
“He seems to be pretty well fixed!” laughed Case. “Those gems are worth more than a hundred thousand dollars! Did you swipe them from the men who robbed the Rock Island warehouse, kid?” he added.
Chet turned a flaming face toward this new accuser.
“Don’t you dare call me a thief!” he shouted. “The diamonds are mine! I never stole them. Give them back to me, you—you—river pirates!”
“That’s good, coming from him!” grinned Alex. “Come on, little one, and tell us who these stones belong to.”
“I tell you they are mine!” Chet again insisted. “I never stole them! You give them back to me! If I had the strength I’d tear your heart out!”
“Of course!” laughed Clay. “Of course you’d do something desperate if you had the strength! But don’t trouble yourself about the diamonds! If they belong to you, you shall have them. But we don’t want to harbor a thief, you know!”
“I don’t believe you’ll ever give them back to me!” sobbed the boy. “I’ve brought them down the river, all this way, to be robbed of them at last!”
In a spasm of grief the lad threw himself on the cabin floor and burst into an uncontrollable fit of weeping. The boys stood around for a moment, looking rather sheepishly at each other, and then all left the cabin but Clay.
“Come kid,” the latter said, lifting Chet from the floor and holding him in his arms like a baby, “don’t act like you’d lost your last friend! If you’re honest, you’ve found friends instead of losing them. You shall have the diamonds back, if you can show that they belong to you. Brace up, now, and go on to bed!”
Chet regarded Clay through wet eyes for a moment and then slipped away to the bunk which had been set aside for him. The frank inspection seemed to have in a measure restored his equanimity. Clay sat down by the side of the bunk, the diamonds in his hands.
“Why don’t you tell me all about it?” he asked of the boy. “Why not settle the whole matter right here, and so have done with it? Where did you get them?”
“I’ve promised not to tell,” was the reply.
“You are not making a very good beginning,” Clay admonished.
Chet made no reply whatever, but turned his face away. Clay went on, patiently:
“Where is your home?”
“I haven’t got any home,” was the reply. “I never had one.”
“But you must belong somewhere,” Clay insisted. “Where did you live last?”
“I’m not going to tell you anything at all,” Chet replied, “until I see the man that made me promise to keep silent, and until he gives me leave to talk with you.”
“Is the man you mention Red, the riverman?” asked Clay.
“Didn’t I just tell you that I wasn’t going to talk?” demanded the boy.
“All right,” Clay responded. “Take all the time you want! In the meantime, I’ll keep the diamonds. Will you promise to remain on the boat?”
“If I had the diamonds, I’d quit you right now!” said the boy, savagely. “I may as well tell you the truth. If you keep the diamonds, I’ll stay until I get them, but I’ll find them and take them with me if I can. You just mind that!”
“You’re a frank little chap, anyway!” laughed Clay.
“I wasn’t brought up to tell lies!” was the astonishing reply.
“Who brought you up?” asked Clay. “You just said you never had any home!”
“Never did!” was the reply. “Say, you won’t blame me if I find where you put the diamonds and run off with them, will you?” he added, quite gravely.
“I don’t see how I can blame you, after such fair warning,” laughed Clay.
“And you won’t help any one to find me?” persisted the little fellow.
“No,” answered Clay, “if you are sharp enough to get the diamonds away from me, I’ll never let on that I ever saw or heard of you. Is that satisfactory to you?”
“Will you shake hands on that?” asked Chet, sitting up on the bunk.
“Gladly! Now, go to sleep and wake up in a more communicative mood to-morrow.”
“I’ll stick to what I said!” Chet answered, and Clay left him alone in the cabin. When he reached the deck he was at once surrounded by the boys, all eager to know the outcome of the conference. Clay told them of what had taken place.
“He’s a nervy little chap!” Clay concluded, “and I like him very much already.”
“You bet he’s all right, that kid!” Alex. said. “If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have told you that he would get the gems the first time he got a chance. Besides, see how he is keeping the promise made to some other fellow! Where are you going to keep the diamonds, Clay?” the boy continued. “Don’t you ever think the kid won’t try hard to find them! I hope he won’t feel called upon to cut all our throats in order to obtain possession of them! I believe he would do it if he thought it necessary!”
“Well,” Clay answered, speaking in a low tone and looking in through the glass panel of the cabin door to see that Chet was still in his bunk, “I think I’ll go ashore at Memphis, for supplies, you know, and put the gems in a deposit box at one of the banks.”
“That’s a fine idea!” cried Case. “He’ll never get them there!”
“But you want to look out that you’re not pinched in the bank,” Alex. advised. “That warehouse robbery is making some noise, and if a boy from a river boat is seen to have diamonds, it is the jail house for yours!”
“If you put them in a bank deposit box,” Jule observed, “you’d better do them up so as to look like a package of papers—bonds, or stocks, or something like that.”
“That is a good idea, too!” Clay exclaimed. “I’ll do it!”
“I’d give a lot to know more about the boy and the diamonds,” Clay mused, as the boys began getting breakfast.
They had talked so long, after reaching the boat, that they had not before realized that it was most morning, and now there was a flush in the east which told of sunrise.
When Clay went back into the cabin to see about the fire, he found Chet crouching on the floor just back of the door. He yawned as Clay entered the apartment.
“What are you doing here?” asked Clay, in amazement.
“Guess I’m trying to find my way to the door!” was the half-smiling reply. “I didn’t seem to know where I was when I woke up!”
Clay accepted the excuse, and went on with his preparation of breakfast. However, he doubted what the boy had said. Notwithstanding the previous good impression he had formed of the waif, he wondered if the lad had not crept out of bed and stationed himself by the door in order to hear what was said about the disposition of the gems.
“I’ll have to be more careful,” Clay thought. “That boy is a clever one!”
After breakfast the waif was rigged out with a suit of Alex.’s clothes. In the new attire he seemed to be a different boy from the one taken from the camp.
The boys did not accept as the truth all he said about himself, though that was not much. When he declared that he had never had any home, they commented on the fact that his speech and manners were those of a boy who had been given a fair education.
Chet at once took to the pets of the boat, Mose, Captain Joe, and Teddy, the bear cub, and they immediately recognized him as a member of the family.
While he was playing with the cub on the prow, Clay made an oblong package of the diamonds, scattering them in between sheets of paper, and marked them “Bonds.” The bag in which they had been found was half filled with burrs, and small bits of a broken dish and tied tight. It resembled the bag as it had stood before any change had been made when Clay had finished with it.
This bag Clay resolved to keep in his pocket until he could place it under the eyes of the boy who claimed it, the idea being to see if he really would snatch the supposed prize and take to the river again. Clay hoped that he would not, for all liked the little fellow. That afternoon they ran down to a Memphis pier and Clay went ashore with the gems.
He was in time to secure a deposit box at a bank and stow the diamonds away. The cashier with whom he did business asked questions regarding his age and permanent residence, and seemed satisfied with his answers. He was, indeed, especially interested in Clay’s description of the Rambler and the voyages the boys had made in her, and asked permission to visit the party that evening if he found time.
Clay gladly gave the required permission, ordered supplies sent to the pier, and then started out for a look at the beautiful city. Almost at the entrance to the bank he met Alex., who had the flushed appearance of a boy who had been walking pretty fast.
The two walked together for a block without speaking, save for the initial greeting, and then Alex. proposed that they go to a restaurant and have a “steak about as big as a parlor rug,” as he expressed it. Clay agreed, but laughed at the notion.
“Why not take it on board?” he asked. “We can cook it much better than any city chef,” he added.
“Well,” Alex. replied, “I saw a neat little restaurant back here, not far from the river front, and I thought I’d like to go there and have a feed.”
So the two turned into the restaurant, when they came to it, and took a small table at a rear corner of the room. It being late for dinner and early for supper, there were few in the place.
One party, at the front of the room, at once attracted Clay’s attention. There were three men in the party, one young, smiling and flashily dressed; one old, grizzled and clad in a well-worn business suit; and another dressed expensively and with great care. This man had a surprising growth of red hair which showed evidences of great care. His face was smooth-shaven, and had the appearance of having recently been divested of a beard, the flesh showing soft and white, as if not long exposed to the weather.
When this man arose to pay the check and laid a hand on the back of a chair, Clay noticed that the hand was very large and finely kept. The man was something over six feet in height! Clay gave Alex. a kick under the table and directed his gaze to the large man, then passing over to the cashier’s window.
“Take a good look at that man,” he whispered. “Ever see him before?”
“I saw him when I passed,” was the reply, “and brought you here. That’s Red, the Robber.”
CHAPTER XIV—ALEX. BREAKS FURNITURE
“Unless Red, the Robber, has a twin who is an exact duplicate of himself,” Clay whispered, “that is just who it is!”
“When I passed here,” Alex. explained, “the three were just sitting down to dinner, and I knew that I could get you back here in time to see Red, the Robber, before he could finish the big steak he had just tackled. There he is! Now what?”
“It doesn’t seem possible that that finely-dressed, well-groomed man is really the one who talked with us out on the river at Cairo, and who afterwards captured the Rambler by holding a gun about the size of a cannon on me,” Clay declared.
“And the man who bespoke kind treatment for Chet, the waif,” Alex. went on. “I guess we’re both seeing things not present to the senses! There ain’t no such man!”
“It can’t be!” Clay tried to convince himself. “It can’t be the same man!”
Yet he knew deep down in his heart that it was the same man! If there had been any doubt of the complete identification at the start, there was none when the man spoke to the cashier in the full, deep voice which Clay knew that he had heard while he was tied up in the cabin of the Rambler!
“I have heard that river thieves sometimes make up to look like bankers and high-up politicians,” Alex. whispered.
“And I have heard that bankers and high-up politicians occasionally assume the disguises of river characters for some purpose of their own,” Clay returned.
“Do they mix with murderers and steal motor boats when they do that?” asked Alex., with a provoking snicker. “’Cause if they do, this may be one of the high-ups!”
“He must recognize us,” Clay went on. “Watch and see if you catch in him any signs of joy at the meeting!”
“He hasn’t yet shown that he knows we are in the room,” Alex. replied.
“There’s one way to find out who he is,” Clay suggested. “When he leaves here, you follow him until he enters some house or office and ask questions about him after he goes on. I’ll do the same here—that is, I’ll see what the cashier knows about him.”
Alex., glad of an opportunity of showing what he could accomplish as a detective, readily agreed to this arrangement, and, the man leaving the restaurant at the moment, Alex. darted away after him, leaving Clay to question the cashier.
The big man, still in the company of his two companions, walked briskly toward the river front, after leaving the restaurant, and finally came to a stop at a pier some distance down the stream from that at which the motor boat lay. Alex. watched the three men shake hands gravely and part, the one he believed to be Red going on board a small steamer which lay close by with smoke pouring from her stacks.
“Now,” thought the boy, “shall I give it up, or shall I sneak on board the boat and see what I can learn of this man who poses as a river pirate one day and as a gentleman of great respectability the next?”
Alex.’s horse sense told him to wait about the pier until some one came off the boat and engage that person in conversation in an effort to learn the identity of the man he was following, but his natural love of adventure told him to make his way on board and learn there what he could, not only of the man, but of the steamer and its destination and cargo.
The spirit of adventure won, and Alex., waiting until there was no one in sight on the freight deck, ventured on board. There was still no one in sight when he reached the staircase leading to the cabin, and he proceeded to climb up, listening between steps for indications of human life.
He found the indications he sought with a vengeance at the head of the stairs. As he stepped up a husky negro seized him by the collar and dragged him toward the prow. Alex. kicked and struggled to no purpose. The negro was too strong for him. All the time he was carrying him along, almost as he would have carried a kitten, the negro kept up a running fire of comment.
The boy gathered from this comment that he was regarded as a sneak thief, and tried more than once to explain, but the negro kept on talking to himself and paid no attention to the words of his prisoner. Alex. administered a sturdy kick and gave it up.
Presently a door was opened at the very front end of the cabin and the boy was thrust into a small stateroom. The force of his entrance sent him against a berth and he crawled up and lay down to think things over. He heard the door behind him locked.
“This is a pretty kettle of fish!” grunted the boy, as he looked about the room.
It was just an ordinary stateroom, with one bunk, a dresser, and a chair. The window looking out on deck was covered by green slat-blinds, and ornamental metal-work covered the glass panel of the door opening into the cabin.
After taking in the room in all its details, Alex. arose and tried to open the green blinds so as to get a look outside. To his surprise he found that they would not open. They were of steel, and were there to protect the window! The room was as stoutly guarded as a prison cell!
“Red, the Robber, seems to have use for a cell,” the boy thought, “that is, if this is his boat! I wonder what he thinks he’s going to do with me?”
Alex. had now no doubt that Red had recognized Clay and himself at the restaurant. He wondered if Clay, too, had been trapped! He could not make up his mind as to whether the man was a robber or a gentleman of business standing, but he knew that he was in a most undesirable situation.
Then he began to wonder if Red knew that he was on board! The man had given no intimation that he had knowledge of being followed. He, Alex., had sneaked on board, like a veritable wharf rat, and the husky negro had been fully justified in taking him into custody! Still, the negro should have listened to his explanations and given him a chance to prove his innocence.
This last view of the case was much more to the liking of the boy than the previous one, for Red had shown a friendly spirit while on board the Rambler, and might now set him free as soon as informed of his capture. Clay had permitted Red his freedom under much more trying conditions!
“If he’s a river thief,” Alex. concluded, “he’ll keep me here until he is sure I can’t injure him by telling of his raid on the motor boat, but if he is on the level—if he was, for some purpose of his own, masquerading while in company with Sam—he will release me as soon as he knows I am here—for Clay’s sake, if not for my own!”
This was a rather comforting conclusion, so the boy began beating with all his might on the panels of the door. He pounded away for some moments without hearing the least response, and then sat down to rest.
While he sat there on the berth, panting from his unnoticed exertions, the boat quivered in all its timbers, the noise of escaping steam reached his ears, and then he knew that the steamer was under way. This was the worst thing that could happen to the boy, and he knew it.
The steamer might go to Cuba, or to the upper reaches of the Missouri or the Mississippi, separating him from his chums for weeks. If Red really was a robber, he would not take the chance of releasing him, for that would give him an opportunity to warn those on board the Rambler, as well as to report to the police the illegal seizure of the motor boat!
“I’m going to find out about this!” Alex. declared, springing off the berth. “I’m going to do an English suffragette stunt and smash windows!”
As his whole mind was set on making a noise so as to attract the attention of the man he had followed on board, the boy was by no means conservative in his next move.
First he took the light-framed chair which stood by the berth and smashed it against the fancy metal work which protected the glass panel. The chair went to pieces without touching the glass, so Alex. took up a slender leg and, poking it through in between the metal work, punched out the pane.
It fell back into the cabin with a rattle, and then Alex., putting his face close to the opening, let out a yell which would have done credit to an Apache Indian on the warpath! In the meantime the steamer was backing out into the current.
“I guess that will let ’em know they have a cabin passenger!” Alex. grunted, as he began tossing the fragments of the chair out on the cabin floor.
The boy was just considering the firing of his automatic, which had not been taken from him by the negro, when a heavy voice near at hand broke into a hearty laugh, and the face of the red-headed man appeared before the opening, half-shielded by an arm, for the boy was still looking for things to throw through.
“What seems to be the difficulty?” the man asked, and Alex. thought he saw a twinkle of humor in the blue eyes fixed upon him.
“No difficulty at all,” Alex. answered, with a touch of irony in his tone. “I’m just doing this for exercise, and to make business for boat builders!”
“Of course,” laughed the man, “you wouldn’t come out if I should unlock the door?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Alex. replied. “I’ve got a good deal of work to do in here yet, and I might bring back an axe to help out.”
“You’ll find that the berth is of steel,” the red-headed man said. “You can’t chop that up. How long will it take you to finish the dresser? I might come back and let you out as soon as you have got through with that!”
“All right!” grinned the boy, “anything to oblige,” and he went at the dresser with the leg of a chair!
The giant unlocked the door, stepped inside, and, taking Alex. by the ear, marched him out of the wrecked room. Once in the cabin he let go of the ear and walked toward the stern with a hand on the boy’s arm.
“You wasn’t so giddy the last time I saw you!” declared the boy.
The man laughed, opened the door of a large stateroom toward the stern, pushed the boy inside, and stepped in after him. This was a handsome room, elaborately furnished. Alex. dropped into a chair and looked about.
The steamer now seemed to be making fast time down the river, and Alex. looked out of a window in the hope of seeing the location of the Rambler.
“Say,” he finally asked, wrinkling his freckled nose at the man, “what is the answer to this? I give it up!”
“What was it you boys put in the deposit box at the bank?” asked the man.
“I didn’t put anything in; I didn’t go to any bank.”
“But your chum did. You met him at the bank entrance, and brought him back to look at me! You know what he put in the vault box. What was it?”
“It was a long package marked bonds,” was the boy’s reply.
“But did the package contain bonds?”
“I don’t know; I never saw the inside of it,” answered Alex., wondering if this man had followed all their movements since being allowed to leave the Rambler.
“Perhaps the lad you call Clay will tell,” smiled the giant. “Or the boys on the Rambler may give the information I seek—when you both fail to return to-night.”
“So you’ve got Clay, too, have you?” shouted Alex., and he make a rush for the door!
CHAPTER XV—THE LEATHER BAG MISSING
When Clay went to the cashier’s desk to pay the check for the meals the two boys had eaten, also with a view of finding out what was known there of the red-headed man, he asked the first question which came into his mind.
“Is that the sheriff—the tall man with the red hair?”
The cashier eyed the boy keenly for a moment and then answered the question by asking one, as many who wait on the public have a habit of doing.
“Why? Do you want to see the sheriff?” he asked, suspiciously.
Clay was provoked, but tried not to show it as he replied,
“I thought I knew the man, that’s all. Perhaps I was mistaken, for he would have recognized me, I’m certain, if he had ever seen me before.”
“Well, that’s not the sheriff,” the cashier replied, more civilly; “I don’t know who he is. He came in here this forenoon, for the first time, with those two men, and he has been in here twice since. There are others with him, too, for people kept coming in and making reports of some kind to him. One made a sign to him, through the glass, while you were eating. He may be a crook, for all I know.”
Clay thanked the cashier and went away, turning in the direction of the river front immediately. At the next corner he came face to face with the cashier of the bank where he had secured the deposit box. The banker extended a hand in greeting.
“I was just wishing,” he said, “that I could run across you this afternoon. I have a little spare time, and I’d like to look over that wonderful boat of yours. Not long ago I saw a full-page description of your river trips in a Chicago newspaper.”
“Come along, then,” Clay replied. “You’ll have a good chance to see it by daylight if you go now. It isn’t very much of a boat, but we’re proud of it. It is just an ordinary motor boat, with electrical attachments which provide for lighting and cooking. There’s also a little refrigerator, cooled by water, and a container for holding electricity in storage, so we have plenty of light when the boat is not running. But come along and take a look at it.”
As the two walked arm-in-arm down the street two men fell in behind them, moving as they moved, fast or slow, and stopping whenever the cashier drew up to explain some city feature to the boy. After a couple of blocks of this work, the two walked faster and, coming in advance of the two they had followed, turned about and greeted the cashier warmly. They were promptly introduced to Clay as Hilton and Carney.
“We’re just going to the river to look over the Rambler, the famous motor boat we have talked so much about,” Benson, the cashier said. “If Mr. Emmett, here, has no objections, I’d like to have you go along with us.”
“No objections whatever,” Clay responded. “There isn’t much to see, but such as it is you are welcome to have a look.”
Clay did not observe the significant look which passed from the cashier to the two men, as they walked along toward the boat. They soon reached the pier and went aboard the Rambler, finding Case, Chet, Jule and Mose there. The bear cub attracted a great deal of attention, and Chet seemed to take special interest in the doings of the party.
The three men did not hurry themselves at all, but took their time about everything. They inspected the bunks and the cupboard, and even looked into the storage places under the decks and the cabin floor.
Clay was with them most of the time, but now and then they halted and conversed together in low tones, so, of course, the boy dropped away from the group. He considered this a strange proceeding on the part of the guests, but said nothing.
Finally they asked Clay all sorts of questions about their progress down the river, when they left Rock Island, when they touched at St. Louis, and when they reached Cairo. The boy, though wondering, answered the rather personal questions frankly.
It was almost dark when the visitors left the boat. Their last visit had been made to the cabin, to inspect the electric stove, and they passed the boys on the prow as they went ashore. For a time after their departure the boys discussed the unusual conduct of the visitors, and then Chet and Clay went in to prepare supper.
Taking advantage of a momentary absence of Chet from the cabin, Clay looked in the hiding-place where he had left the leather bag in which the diamonds had been brought on shore. The bag was gone! Clay hastened out on deck to meet two astonished boys.
“Say,” Case said, “what’s come over Chet? He came out of the cabin like a shot and jumped off on the pier. Then, without even stopping to look back, he ran down into the city! What have you been doing to him?”
Clay stood for a moment like one incapable of speech, then he dropped into a deck-chair and laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks. Captain Joe and Teddy joined the others in their criticism of his strange actions.
“You didn’t get too many high balls while in the city, did you?” asked Case.
“You might have kept sober enough to bring Alex. back with you!” Jule put in.
“Ah believe yo’ done scare dat lad off de boat!” little Mose suggested.
“Well,” Clay explained, presently, “I suppose I ought to treat the matter more seriously, for we may have lost Chet for good, but it is funny for all that.”
“Why don’t you pass it around?” demanded Case. “Let us in on the laugh!”
“You all know what I did with the articles we found on Chet,” Clay responded. “Well, when I took the valuables out of the leather bag, I put burrs from the repair kit and pieces of broken dishes into the bag and hid it where I thought Chet might find it if he looked long enough.”
“I don’t see anything funny in that,” observed Case, with a frown.
“Just wait! When I looked for the bag, just now, it was gone, and the next thing I hear is that Chet has taken to his heels. You see what has happened!”
“The poor little chap!” exclaimed Case. “I’m sorry for him.”
“So am I,” Clay agreed, “but he ought to have been honest with us.”
“We knew what to expect,” Jule suggested. “He said he’d get the gems back if he could, didn’t he? Now he thinks he’s got them, and is lugging off a lot of truck not worth a cent! I call that a shame!”
Clay looked thoughtful for a second and then burst out:
“But is he? Look here, fellows,” he went on, excitedly, “suppose he never took the bag at all! Suppose Chet found it and changed his mind about running off with it! Suppose one of the visitors took it! Suppose that is what they were here for; suppose Chet missed it as soon as they went away and chased on after them!”
“You said the visitors were bankers!” exploded Jule. “What about that?”
“One of them was, but I don’t know anything about the others. Strange they should all be so eager to inspect the Rambler! Strange they should get off by themselves and talk in whispers! I reckon we’re knee-deep in mystery!”
“Well, where did you leave Alex.?” asked Jule. “He hasn’t come back yet!”
“And here’s another funny thing,” Clay went on, without answering the question, directly. “We saw Red, the Robber, up town, dressed like a gentleman! Alex. followed him out of the place where we saw him, and may have got into trouble!”
“Then the stealing of the bag is Red’s work!” decided Case. “No need to guess about that any more! How he got his men in with the banker I don’t know, but he did it, and one of them took it, and poor Chet saw that it was gone, and now he is following a bag filled with crockery about the city!”
“Pshaw!” Jule exclaimed. “It is dollars to doughnuts that Chet got the bag himself! He said he’d swipe it if he got a chance. You all know that!”
A figure now came dashing down the pier at break-neck speed and Alex. leaped on the deck and dropped into a chair, wiping the sweat from his face.
“Did you find who he was?” asked Clay, as the boys all gathered around Alex.
Alex. told the story of the steamer and the wrecked stateroom, and ended with the talk he had had with Red, while the boys looked on in wonder at the odd twist things were getting into. Even Teddy Bear seemed impressed by the mystery, Jule declared!
“And how did you get away from him?” demanded Case. “How did you get back here?”
“I jumped and ran, and he caught me,” was the reply. “Then he made me promise not to say a word about his escapade on the Rambler and let me go! Can you beat it?”
“What did he have you locked up for?” asked Clay. “I don’t understand that.”
“Just because he wanted that promise,” Alex. suggested. “Is that the answer?”
“It may be,” Clay admitted, “but here’s the question: Is he a robber or a detective? Is he on the level, or is he just a clever scoundrel?”
“Perhaps Alex. can judge better of that when he knows what has taken place here,” Case suggested, going on with the story of the disappearance of the leather bag.
“Red’s gang got it,” laughed Alex., without a moment’s hesitation, as Case finished the story. “He knew Clay put something in the bank, and asked me what it was. Yes, we know all about it now!”
“I just believe Chet took the bag, thinking the gems were in it,” insisted Jule.
“We’ll never know the truth until we find the lad,” Clay said, with a sigh.
“Unless Red, the Robber, shows up again in a confidential mood,” Alex. laughed.
“If the supplies I ordered are all in,” Clay went on, “I think we’d better be on our way. There’s mystery in the very air here!”
“If we stay here long,” Alex. prophesied, “the coon I biffed on the shin may show up, lookin’ for revenge, or Red may come after pay for the furniture I smashed!”
“What did he say about that furniture?” grinned Jule. “You’ve got the nerve!”
“He never mentioned it,” was the reply. “Say,” the lad went on, “I believe that chap is all to the good, after all! He seemed to think the smash act was funny.”
During the afternoon Case and Mose had caught a large fish and Chet had succeeded in bringing down a wild duck, so the cooking of supper was an elaborate affair. Then Clay made light biscuits and coffee, and fried potatoes, and the boys were as happy as well-fed boys with no one to “boss,” usually are, except that they missed Chet.
After supper they discussed the proposition of waiting there a day in the hope of finding the runaway boy, but it was finally decided that he could find them easier than they could find him, so they started the motors and went on toward the Gulf.
The early part of the night was bright, so the boys ran down about twenty miles, as the river ran, and then tied up below a “tow-head” which stuck up out of the water below an island of good size. They found it necessary to take this precaution always, for the wash of large steamers passing up and down would have rattled things in the Rambler, if the motor boat was not capsized.
At midnight the sky became overcast with threatening clouds and the wind blew in fitful gusts. There seemed to be no danger of their being disturbed by visitors that night, but all the same they thought best to station a watchman, and Case volunteered to keep awake and see that “no one flew away with the boat,” as he expressed it.
Somewhere about two o’clock in the morning, the boy, who was having hard work keeping awake, heard the puff and bellow of an approaching steamer, toiling up against the strong current. Almost at the same instant he felt a jar, as if the boat had been struck by floating driftwood. He switched on the prow light to see what was doing, but quickly extinguished it as the steamer came up and a heavy rowboat dropped away from her!
CHAPTER XVI—WHAT DROPPED ON DECK
“I guess my turning on that light started something!” the boy mused, as he darkened the small electric globe in the cabin and sat down to await developments. He kept just inside the cabin door at first, for the wind was cold and searching.
For a few moments he could hear the working of oars and the push of the current on an advancing boat, and then all was silent save the sighing of the wind and the wash of the river, still burdened at times with floating wreckage. It seemed to him that the boat which had slipped away from the steamer had anchored somewhere near the Rambler.
“I fully believe,” Case grunted, as he finally left the cabin and looked out upon the dim river from the deck, “that if we should fly through the air on a cloud there would be some scamp watching us from another cloud! It’s rotten, the way we are chased about!”
The boy did not know that his complaint had found words until he heard a chuckle close to his side and turned about to faintly distinguish the freckled face of Alex., who stood looking over the river to the south.
“You’ve got no kick coming!” Alex. declared. “You wouldn’t go on these river trips if we found nothing more than scenery, any more than I would! It seems like living to be chased about, as you call it! If it wasn’t for the mystery and adventure in the jaunts I’d be at home in little old Chicago—and that’s where you’d be, too!”
“Well,” Case returned, “I’d like to get one night off occasionally!”
“What is it now?” asked Alex. “I heard the steamer pass, but that didn’t mean anything to me. What’s going wrong now? Tell your old uncle Alex. all about it!”
“Uncle nothing!” laughed Case, restored to better humor by the optimism of the other. “If you want to know what’s on the string, go and get a glass and try to find a rowboat in this mess of river and black sky. A safety razor that won’t cut air will be given to the first one that discovers the boat!”
“Oh!” cried Alex. “There’s a boat watching us! All right! Now I feel better! I was beginning to wonder when we’d have something to stir us up!”
“The boat dropped off when the steamer went up,” Case explained. “I saw it under the lights, but of course it vanished in the darkness as soon as the big boat passed.”
“There’s something going on, then!” Alex. declared. “Of course they wouldn’t know on board the steamer in the dark, that we were here, and so the thing which is going to happen is set to come off on shore. I’m going to stay awake and see what it is.”
“You see,” Case stated, hesitatingly, “I heard a bump on the hull of the Rambler, just as the steamer was churning into sight, around that bend, and turned on the prow light to see about it! That’s why the rowboat dropped off here, I take it.”
Alex. gave vent to a long, low whistle.
“Then we’ve got into the spot-light again!” he said. “It won’t be any trouble for me to keep awake now! Shall we tell Clay the glad news, or let him sleep?”
“Oh, let him sleep! We can run this watch, all right!”
While the boys whispered and listened, the long, bellowing roar of a locomotive whistle came to their ears from the east. Then came the distant rumble of a train.
“What do you make of that?” asked Case. “I thought we were in the heart of a wild river country, and here come a train of cars—palace cars, I’ll go you, at that!”
“About three or four miles from the river, in the state of Mississippi,” laughed Alex., “runs the old Yazoo & Mississippi railroad. There are little towns all along its line. Perhaps the boat dropped off the steamer to make one of the country bergs! We never thought of that, did we?”
Case pulled the other by the arm and both drew away from the gunwale.
“There’s a boat out there now,” he declared, in a whisper. “I heard the tunk of an oar then! I’ll bet they are trying to get on board!”
“Got your gun?” asked Alex.
“Sure thing I have,” was the reply.
“And your searchlight?”
“You know it!”
“So have I,” Alex. went on. “Now, if they try to board the Rambler, we’ll lie low until they begin to climb over the rail. Then we’ll turn on our electrics. If they are strangers, and look like river pirates, we’ll shoot them up! What?”
“But why not turn on the prow light?” asked Case.
“Because we can handle the electric flashlights quicker. If we have to show the light and shoot, be quick to change your position after the light is switched off. Then, if they shoot back, they won’t hit you.”
There was a boat approaching. There was no doubt about that. And the people on board of her were doing their best to keep their movements from being known by those of the Rambler. Case and Alex. could hear the dash of oars, and now and then a rough command. The two boys sat in silence and waited.
Then, as Case and Alex. afterward complained, something happened which “spoilt all the fun!” Captain Joe came out of the cabin and gave forth a series of threatening growls, and Teddy added to the warning by saying things in bear talk!
The mysterious boat came on no longer. There were still sounds of the working of a heavy craft in a strong current, but these gradually died out.
“I’d like to throw you both into the river after them!” Alex. scolded at the animals, as they came around him, asking to be congratulated on their success in driving off the visitors! “Now we’ll be haunted by those fellows for a week, while if you had kept quiet we’d have settled with them right here!”
“Suppose we turn on the power and chase ’em up?” asked Case.
“And give them a chance to do all the shooting!” replied Alex. scornfully. “I’m not looking for a watery grave in the Mississippi.”
“Well,” Case continued, “if you don’t want to follow them up, just to see what they look like, perhaps we’d better drop down a short distance. If we can’t fight them, we don’t want to feel that they’re right under our noses, waiting for a chance to get us into a hole! I’d rather face a hundred men in the open than know that one was skulking about me in the darkness!”
“This is a fierce old stream for strangers to travel on in the dark!” Alex. said.
“I know it, but——”
Before the boy could finish the sentence a faint jar came, as if some person had caught hold of the anchor chain and given it a pull, or hung his weight on it.
“There’s our friend!” Case whispered. “Now, get ready with your gun!”
In a second, while the boys listened, they heard a hard substance fall on the deck. Alex.’s light flashed around the gunwale, but there was no one in sight.
In the middle of the deck, however, still dripping from the river, lay the leather bag which had held the diamonds, and which had held only burrs and broken crockery when last seen on board the Rambler! Alex. picked it up, found that it was still half full of some hard substances, and shut off the light.
“You saw it?” he asked of Case, as he cuddled down by the boy’s side.
“Of course! The leather bag!”
“What do you think of it?” demanded Alex.
“I don’t think!” admitted Case. “I’ve lost the power of thought!”
“But what did they throw it back here for?” insisted Alex.
“Why did who throw it back here?” chuckled Case.
“Now, look here, Smarty,” Alex. continued. “There are only four persons who could have taken that bag from the boat, the cashier and his two friends, and Chet.”
“Unless the dog ate it, or Teddy threw it overboard.”
“Oh, quit your foolishness! Now, which one of the four is out there in the river? Whoever it is has a sense of humor, for the tossing of the bag back shows that the situation is appreciated.”
“You notice the steamer came UP the river?” asked Case.
“Yes; what of it?” demanded Alex. “I don’t see anything in that.”
“Well, that shows that whoever threw the bag on deck came from down stream! It shows, too, that we have been watched every minute, for reasons which we don’t know anything about!”
“Yes, in order to keep track of us they might have taken the railroad down the river bank and then taken a steamer up, so as to meet us on the way down! I see something in it now. But who is it?”
“It may be Chet!” suggested Case. “He may have returned the bag just to show us that he knows about the removal of the diamonds.”
“I just believe Chet is out there somewhere, and that he would come on board if he knew we wouldn’t raise a row about the way he left us!” declared Alex.
“I give it all up!” Case returned. “It’s your watch now, and I’m going to bed! If there’s anything good to eat thrown on deck out of the darkness, just wake me up, otherwise let me alone. I’ll hunt up my dream book to-morrow and find what it says about leather bags dropping out of the sky!”
Alex. sat alone in the dim night, watching the river and the dark bottom lands of the island for a long time before anything attracted his attention. Then a light, like that made by a camp-fire, sprang up on the Mississippi side of the river.
He could see figures moving about in front of the blaze, but of course could not distinguish faces. Presently the low, weird chant of a plantation song came over the waters. It was evident that a gang of negroes, possibly railroad repair men, was passing the night in camp on the shore.
As Alex. listened to the plaintive songs he heard a splash in the water at the side of the boat, and shot his light in that direction. A stick was floating away, and the boy concluded that it was that which had made the noise he had heard.
He heard the negroes come to the bank of the river to gather driftwood for the fire, and heard their drawling voices saying something of the river going down fast, but could not catch the full import of their words.
The companionship of the fire and the voices was something to the boy, and he sat until daylight began to show in perfect contentment. Then he went into the cabin to get a line, it being his idea to surprise the boys with a fish breakfast.
He looked at the sleeping faces for a moment and started when he came to a rug in the corner where Mose usually slept! Captain Joe was there, his nose in his paws, but Mose was not there! Alex. searched the boat. The negro boy was gone! The amazed boy half pulled Clay out of his bunk and began the story of the night.
“We’re not yet out of the enchanted land,” he said. “We are still seeing things! The leather bag comes back out of the sky, and Mose goes up in the air. I’m for getting down to the Gulf right soon.”
“Have you looked in the bag for any solution of the puzzle?” asked Clay. “There may be a note of some kind there: a note of explanation. See?”
“Yes,” declared Alex., pointing over the side, and not answering the question about the bag, “I see that we are stuck in the mud, and not likely to get out until another flood, a year, or perhaps two years, off.”