CHAPTER VI—CAPTAIN JOE MAKES A HIT
While the Rambler, in charge of reckless river pirates, was swinging down with the current, threatening to capsize every instant, Alex. and Jule sat flat on a rotten, yielding floor somewhere in the interior of the deserted house, feeling tenderly over their limbs to see if they had received severe injuries during the fall from the room where they had been so inhospitably welcomed by the aged man.
The boys had not fallen far. In fact, it seemed to them that they had only slid down a gentle incline to the story below. A hatch in the floor in front of the hearth had been dropped back, and their chairs had slid into a chute which seemed, from its smoothness, to be in frequent use.
For a minute the boys were alarmed, excited, angry, then the humor of their sudden removal from the apartment above appealed to them. Alex. was first to speak.
“Vot iss?” he exclaimed. “This must be a page of a comic section in one of the Chicago newspapers. How many legs and arms have you broken?”
“Not a one!” answered Jule. “What kind of hospital treatment do you require?”
“If I felt any better,” laughed Alex., “I wouldn’t know what to take for it.”
It was dark as pitch where the boys were, and they felt about until their hands touched. The personal contact gave them new courage.
“What do you make of it?” asked Jule. “This doesn’t look good to me!”
“We’ve simply butted in on some other fellow’s game,” Alex. replied. “We seem to have visited a crank who thinks it best to be prepared in advance for unwelcome guests.”
“A moonshiner or a river pirate!” Jule suggested.
“That’s about it!” Alex. answered. “We’ve interrupted the industry of a set of illicit whisky makers or warehouse thieves. The valley is said to swarm with bandits whenever the river is out of its banks. Now, the question is how are we going to get out and back to the Rambler?”
They did not know that at that moment Clay and the motor boat were in a situation far more serious than that in which they now found themselves!
“I wish it wasn’t so dark here!” Jule whispered.
“Why the soft pedal?” asked Alex. “We’ve got a right to talk as loudly as we like, I take it, being alone in a dark old donjon keep!”
“There’s some one in the room with us!” Jule explained, in a whisper which barely reached his chum’s ears, so faint it was. “I hear him breathing.”
“Hello!” Alex. called out, then. “Hello! Come on out an’ be a good fellow!”
There was no answer, and then Alex., reaching into a capacious pocket, brought out a small electric torch and pushed the button. On board the Rambler or on shore, it was a rule of the boys never to move about without an electric torch and an automatic revolver ready for use.
When the light flashed out, its round circle showed only a room twenty feet square in size, with bare discolored walls. Plastering hung to broken lath, so they knew that they were on the ground floor of the deserted house, and not in the cellar. The floor was worn, and the rough boards which half protected the broken windows showed signs of having been long in position. There was no furniture at all in the place.
“Looks like we might rip off a board and walk out,” Jule said, still speaking in a very low tone of voice.
“Don’t you ever think we’re not watched!” Alex. hastened to say. “I don’t know but I made a mistake in showing this light.”
“There’s only one way to discover whether we are watched or not,” said the other, “and that is to try to get away. I’m going after that window.”
As Jule spoke he moved toward a window which seemed to open on the bayou, as a gleam of water could be seen through the cracks in the window-guard. The instant his hand touched a crumbling board a voice came out of the darkness.
“I wouldn’t do that, boys!”
That was all. Jule stopped at the uncanny interruption with a hand suspended in air, and Alex. quickly flashed his light in the direction from which the sound had come.
There was no one in sight. Rats or other creeping, crawling, things seemed to be working in the disreputable walls, for there was a continuous scratching noise, but there were no other sounds. Alex. shut off the light and sat down on the floor again.
“I guess it is no use!” he said. “We’ll have to surrender!”
“There will always be someone here to see that you don’t get away!” said the voice. “If you make any trouble, you won’t get anything to eat! Now, be good!”
“You can keep me as gentle as a lamb by feeding me right!” Alex. said, with a chuckle which was rather forced. “Why don’t you show up?”
“You’ll see me soon enough,” the voice went on. “In the meantime, don’t show that electric light again, and if you have any weapons lay them on the floor in this corner.”
“I haven’t any,” lied Alex. “I brought the light instead.”
As he spoke the boy nudged Jule, and he, understanding, slid his revolver along the floor in the direction of the voice. It struck against the wall with a metallic thud.
“That’s right!” the voice in the darkness said. “Now, you with the light, send it over here. I might want to use it!”
Alex. slid his torch along the floor. In its progress the button was pressed and a round illumination sprang up on the wall. Almost in the center of this they saw the white hair and beard of the old man who had invited them into the room above!
The boys sat for a long time in serious thought after that, well knowing that every word uttered would be heard by their guardian. Alex. was more than hopeful in his views of the situation.
“If these fellows were professionals,” he mused, “they wouldn’t take any chances on us not having more weapons and more lights. They would make sure by searching us! I don’t believe they ever took a prisoner before, or that they are very anxious about keeping us. I guess we just butted in where we’re not wanted, and they’ll let us go after a time. Anyway, they’re easy!”
Directly loud noises were heard in the old house, and the insecure walls shook under heavy burdens. It seemed to the listening lads that huge boxes and barrels were being transferred from one room to another.
There were excited voices, too, although no words could be understood. It seemed to the two prisoners that the old mansion was being deserted, and their impression was that the thieves were removing their plunder because their hiding-place had been intruded upon. In that case, they thought, they might soon be released.
After what seemed a whole day, food was pushed into the room, and the boys ate heartily of the fresh pork sausages, corn pones, and sweet potatoes given them.
“You’re all right on the feed!” Alex. called back in the direction of the corner where for an instant the old man had been seen.
There was no answer, but, somehow, the boys were convinced that there was some one there in the room with them. It does not always require the eyes, or the hands, or the ears, or the sense of smell, to show one that others are close by.
There is a tingling of the nerves which warns of the presence of hostile elements, and this it was which showed the prisoners that they were still under guard.
That was a long afternoon. For the most part there were no sounds in the old house; still, now and then, there came the jar of heavy burdens on the floors, and the sharp and angry voices of men, speaking in a tongue the boys did not understand.
When the cracks in the boards at the windows began to darken, they knew that night was falling. They thought of the comfortable cabin of the Rambler, and of the companionship of the other boys with spasms of anger and regret. As the darkness became more complete outside, they arose and walked up and down the floor of their little room.
“Say, Mister!” Alex. called out to their invisible guard, directly, “how many acts are there in this drama? When do the persecuted c-h-e-i-l-d-s return to their agonized and heart-broken parents?”
“I’m as weary of it as you are!” was the remarkable answer, still in that calm voice they had heard before.
“Then why don’t you cut it out?” asked Jule.
“There are men in the party who advise that,” was the significant answer. “They are at present discussing your fate. Many declare that it is not wise to permit you to leave the place! I’m sorry for you, but you had no right to snoop in here!”
“Next time,” Alex. replied, “you hoist a piracy flag, and we’ll keep away.”
“When will this strategy board you refer to make a report?” asked Jule.
“I may receive orders at any moment,” was the answer.
Silence followed. There were crunchings and chatterings, in the walls where rodents were busy making nests, but no sound of human action. In the long wait the boys heard a low, inquisitive sniff!
Alex. drew Jule’s head over to him and whispered in his ear:
“That’s Captain Joe, for a dollar and a half!”
“You’re on!” Jule responded. “I’ll be glad to lose the bet at that, too!”
“I guess I know that inquisitive snort!” Alex. went on. “Besides, I told you that the dog would find some way to get to us!”
“Aw, Clay sent him!” declared Jule. “He never found his way here alone.”
“The boys may be with him,” Alex. suggested, as the sound came again. “I hope he won’t make enough noise to disturb his nibs, over in the corner. Good old dog!”
After a time they heard the patter of the dog’s feet, and then the guard whistled softly, as if attempting to make friends with whatever animal was approaching.
“Come here, you foolish dog!” he said. “Why don’t you come in out of the dark?”
The pat-pat of the dog’s soft feet came nearer, and the guard spoke again:
“How the Old Harry did you get in here?” he demanded. “Whose dog are you, anyway?”
The dog growled and there came a flash of light. The guard, becoming afraid of this thing which had found its way into a room supposed to be secure from intrusion, and had switched on the electric.
The light revealed the two prisoners, grouped together in the middle of the room, the old man, standing with weapon extended and with staring eyes, Captain Joe all ready for a spring, an open window, and, lastly, the black face of Mose overlooking the scene with eyes which seemed too large for his head!
“Get him, Joe!” cried both boys in unison.
The light dropped as the dog leaped, and a revolver clattered to the floor. Alex. had hold of the dog in an instant, his other hand reaching for the rolling flashlight.
“Don’t eat him up, Joe!” the boy said, tearing the dog away from the fallen man. Captain Joe fell away with a sullen growl.
“The brute has bitten my arm!” the old man moaned.
“If you remain quiet,” Alex. said, “you won’t have any more wounds to complain of. We’ll just tie you up and get out! After we are gone some one will come and let you out. What sort of a place is this, anyway?”
The old man groaned and made no reply, so the boys secured him and crept out of the window into the darkness.
CHAPTER VII—SEARCHING FOR THE RAMBLER
Case found the walking fairly good and reached New Madrid shortly before noon, having started about 8 o’clock. He procured the supplies for which he had been sent and then sought the hotel and partook of an excellent dinner.
“Now,” he thought, “shall I walk back to the Rambler to-night, or shall I remain here and look over the town?”
The question was soon decided, for all there was of the town could be seen in a very short time. At 1 o’clock he started back to the motor boat. At 5 o’clock, just as the sun was setting, he came to the bayou where the Rambler had been anchored.
There was no boat there. The night was falling fast, and the bayou and the river were dimly seen through a slight mist. The boy stood on the bank of the bayou for a long time, studying the situation.
“There’s something wrong!” he decided. “The motors could never have been forced into motion with the parts missing! The boys would never attempt to drift down, for the river is still filled with drifting timbers and wrecks of houses and barns.
“And even if they should have decided to change locations, notwithstanding the peril of the undertaking, they would never have gone away without leaving some one here to notify me of the new position!”
Passing on up the bank of the bayou, searching for some sign in the darkness, Case finally came upon the rowboat which Alex. and Jule had left half concealed in a tangle of bushes in a little bay. Before him, then, lay the old house, dim in the night. He had heard the boys talk of visiting the place, and at once concluded that they were there.
He looked over the structure for lights, but saw none. Then he listened, catching in time the sounds which the two boys had noted. He crouched down in a patch of shrubbery and waited, listening for some indication of the presence of his chums.
Directly he heard a shrill scream of fright, then the bushes between his hiding-place and the house were shaken violently, and a small figure darted out, running at top speed and sending a scream into the night at every jump!
“If that isn’t Mose,” Case thought, “then there are two young negroes with most extraordinary calliope possibilities! He runs like the Old Scratch was after him, and has plenty of wind left to tell how scared he is!” he added.
The small figure came smashing through the shrubbery and finally landed in the thicket where Case had secreted himself. Here he stumbled over a trailing vine and fell forward on his face. Before he could regain his feet Case had him by the arm.
“Mose!” he said. “Keep quiet! You’ll have all the pirates in the state steering in this direction! What is the matter?”
“Fo’ de Lawd’s sake leave dis nigger go!” wailed Mose. “Dar’s ghostes in dat ol’ house, an’ dey’s got de boys!”
“Are the boys in there?” demanded Case, giving the frightened lad a gentle shake to bring him back to his senses. “Where is the Rambler?”
“Ah don’ know!” gasped the little negro. “Piruts don’ got de boat, an’ dem ghostes don’ ’pear fo’ dis nigger!”
“If you don’t brace up and tell me what’s going on,” Case declared, “I’ll throw you in the river. Where are the boys?”
Before Mose could reply Captain Joe came dashing through the bushes. He stopped by Case’s side and lay down, trembling with excitement.
“If the dog could talk he would tell me what’s going on,” Case said, reprovingly, to the negro. “Where have you two been?”
Mose, evidently encouraged by the presence of the dog, told haltingly of the attack on the Rambler that morning, of his being thrown overboard, with the dog, of his day of wandering, hungry and afraid, about the old place, and of Captain Joe following the tracks of the boys to the entrance to the house.
He said that he had lain in hiding, afraid to enter, and had kept the dog quiet until it began to get dark, when he had followed Captain Joe to a window from which the sound of voices had issued. The dog had leaped in, after he had pulled away the rotten board, he said, and there he had seen Alex. and Jule, enveloped in a ghostly light, with a white ghost struggling with the dog!
The story was told with many sidelong glances at the shadows which lay heavy on the landscape, for a moon was now struggling through drifting banks of clouds.
As the boy concluded his story, often delayed by his fright, another commotion came from the grounds nearer the old house. Lights flashed from the windows and pistol shots were heard. Getting one sniff of the acrid smell of powder, Mose leaped to his feet and bounded away again. Captain Joe lifted his nose, wrinkled it in derision, and rose to meet two figures which were pounding down the broken walk toward the bayou.
“Alex.! Jule!” called Case. “What’s doing?”
“Get a move on!” panted Alex. “Get to the boat! Where did that little coon go?”
“He must be somewhere near the Rocky Mountains by this time,” Case replied, falling into the fast pace set by the other boys.
Very soon there were sounds of running feet behind them, and the lads redoubled their efforts to reach the boat before any one else could get to it. Now and then a bullet cut the air close to their ears, but they were not struck.
When they came to the edge of the bayou, Mose had the boat out a rod from shore, and was doing his best to row it across with one oar. The boys did not wait for him to return to the bank, but plunged into the water and waded and swam out, Alex., the last one in, giving the craft a vigorous shove as he crawled over the stern.
Without loss of a minute’s time Alex. and Case took the oars and Jule seized the helm. They were soon proceeding down the bayou at a rapid rate of speed, but, fast as they were going, others were moving faster along the bank.
“Come back or we’ll fill you full of air holes!” shouted one of the pursuers.
The boys might have been forced to return to the shore only for the fact that at that moment the moon’s face was hidden by a mass of clouds. Taking advantage of this, and sitting as low in the boat as possible in order to avoid the bullets which were coming in their direction, the boys made for the mouth of the blind channel, and soon felt the push of the current of the Mississippi.
Before long the sounds of pursuit died out. The old mansion, which stood on the point of land between the river and the bayou, was now in darkness. When the moon came out again it stood silent and solitary in its neglected enclosure. It seemed to the lads that everything that had taken place there must be a dream!
“Now where?” Jule asked, as the boat passed a bend and the house was no longer in sight. “Do we know where we are going, any of us?”
“Where is the Rambler?” demanded Alex. “We ought to have reached it long ago.”
Then, briefly, Case repeated the story told by Mose of the capture of the motor boat. There was silence for a moment, for the boys recognized the seriousness of the situation.
There was little doubt in their minds that the Rambler would be wrecked. No boat could drift down that surging river, cluttered with driftwood as it was, without meeting with disaster. And Clay was on board, bound, and helpless in case the worst happened!
“So that is how Mose and Captain Joe happened to come to the rescue,” Alex. said. “The pirate threw them off the Rambler! Well, he did a good job when he did it, anyway! But how that coon did run when we made for the window he had opened!”
Mose, nestled in the bottom of the boat, stroking Captain Joe’s wet head, grinned and declared that the boys had looked like ghosts.
“It is a wonder the boy and the dog were not discovered in the grounds!” Jule remarked. “I don’t see how they came to keep out of sight!”
“I can tell you!” Case put in. “Mose was so afraid that the pirates would come and get him that he lay in the bushes with his face in the dead leaves! Is that right, Mose?” he asked.
Mose had to admit that he was “sho’ scared white,” and Captain Joe tried to explain, in perfectly good dog talk, that he wasn’t frightened a bit, but only lay by Mose to help keep his courage up!
“Well, boys,” Alex. said in a moment, “we’ve got to study out some plan to get to Clay. We can’t dodge the issue by talking of something else. What shall we do?”
“I’m for going on down the river,” Alex. continued. “The pirates can’t run the Rambler up stream, and so we must find her if we keep on going.”
“But she has nearly ten hours the start of us,” urged Jule.
“I don’t think they will go far, as it is risky drifting a boat down now. They will probably go far enough to get out of the zone of pursuit and then tie up, if the boat isn’t wrecked before that,” he added, gravely.
“That’s good judgment!” Case declared.
“We’re lucky if we don’t get wrecked ourselves,” Jule declared, swinging the boat about to avoid a mass of wreckage which lay before her. “When we come to the bend just ahead we’re likely to be pushed over to the other shore. See how the current sets that way? We’ll have to go some to beat it!”
The current was indeed swift and treacherous. It swept toward the east shore with almost resistless force, and the rowboat was like an eggshell in its grasp.
“Look out for the log ahead!” cried Jule, as the boat swirled around.
But there was more than one log ahead. It seemed that a whole drive of logs, or timbers, had been caught by the flood and whirled down stream. The boys backed water, and Jule did all he could to keep out of the mass, but the current was remorseless.
The boat struck a great timber and the force of the shock and the cracking sound which followed told of an injury to the craft. Mose stood up in the boat, for water was now coming in!
“This seems to be our good-luck night!” Case grumbled, in a sarcastic tone, as the boat lurched against a great log and came near tipping over.
“There’s a raft ahead, anyway!” shouted Jule. “We can ride down on that!”
“Until it takes a notion to dump us into the drink!” complained Case.
The boat filled fast, and Captain Joe mounted the prow and looked longingly toward the bobbing timber raft just ahead. From the raft he looked back to the boys.
“I reckon the dog has more sense than we have!” Alex. exclaimed. “We’ll have to take to the raft, all right, so here goes.”
“Wait for a bit of light!” urged Case. “The moon will be out in a second.”
In the darkness which followed the boys could feel the water rising in the boat. The current was pressing the craft down against the timber raft, and the creaking of the hull proclaimed a badly wrecked boat.
“Say,” Case called out, “one of you boys get out a light. We’ve got to make a jump right soon. This is some adventure! What?”
Jule reached for his electric, but Alex. caught his arm.
“There’s a light on the Missouri bank,” he said, “and it looks to me like the cabin windows of the Rambler were sending it out. Lay low in the dark and drift with the raft!”
CHAPTER VIII—FACES AT THE WINDOW
“Look here, Red,” the outlaw who had been called Sam said, addressing the giant, as the Rambler struck the half-submerged tree, “we’ve got up against something hard!”
“We never should have put out into the river!” retorted Red. “A few more bumps like that, and to the fishes we go! Get a pole out, and see if you can push away from that consarned tree. Then we’ll soon get to shore.”
Sam went into the cabin, where Clay sat, side by side with the bear cub, on a bunk.
“Where’s your river pole?” he demanded. “You must have something of the kind!”
“There’s one in hooks at the side of the cabin,” replied the boy. “If you’ll cut this cord I’ll help you get out of the current.”
Sam leered savagely at the boy for a moment, picked up the revolver which lay on the floor not far away, put it into a pocket, and then severed the cord.
“Mind you,” he said, as Clay sprang for the pole, “if you try any tricks on us we’ll chuck you to the fish!”
Without paying much attention to the threat, Clay grasped the pole and ran to the prow, which was now entangled in a wilderness of branches springing from the bole of the tree the boat had struck. The boy’s strength was insufficient, and Red came to his assistance. Both pried and pushed, but it seemed impossible to back the boat against the sweep of the current.
As if to make matters worse, a long timber lodged against the stern and added its weight to that of the motor boat and the running water. Sam stood looking on with a cynical smile on his hard face.
“You never can do it,” he finally declared. “We’ll have to let the boat drift down in company with the tree. Just our luck to strike such a snag!”
“If that limb wasn’t in the way,” Red asserted, “we could get the boat out. It binds on the side of the cabin.”
Clay hastened into the cabin and soon returned to the prow with an axe. Both men eyed him sharply as he came forward with the keen-edged implement.
“You know what I told you!” Sam shouted, stepping toward the boy.
“Let him alone!” commanded Red. “I reckon the kid knows what he is about!”
“Now,” Clay explained, addressing the big fellow, who seemed more inclined to be friendly than his companion, “if you’ll stand ready with the pole, I’ll get over on the trunk and cut that limb away. Then we can edge over to the shore.”
“Oh, yes!” sneered Sam. “We let you off on the tree, and you go on down and call out the police at the first landing. Not for your uncle!”
“Go on,” shouted Red, to Clay. “I’ll steady you with the pole, and when the limb is off you give it a poke and come on board. Will you do that?”
“Sure!” answered the boy. “I have no intention of going off and leaving the Rambler! Hand me the axe when I get down on the trunk, will you?”
Without waiting for any further conversation, which was difficult because of the roaring of the river, Clay crept over the gunwale and landed on the tree, which sank lower under his weight. Then he reached for the axe, which Red promptly passed to him.
“I wouldn’t get down on that tree for a thousand dollars!” cried Sam. “If he don’t time himself to a second, he’ll get knocked into a cocked hat by the boat when she swings loose! I’m not stuck on taking any such chances.”
“That is some kid!” Red exclaimed, admiringly, as Clay chopped away at the limb. “I wish we had him with us!”
“You want to look out for him!” Sam cautioned. “He may prove to be too much of a kid for both of us, but I’ve got him covered, so if he tries to——”
The limb dropped away after a few strokes with the axe, and the boat righted and swung against the trunk. The swaying of the trunk upon which Clay stood threw him into the water, but he clung to the tree and tried to work back to the boat. Sam lifted the pole to strike his unprotected head.
“May as well get rid of him now,” he declared, with an ugly oath.
Red struck the would-be murderer a savage blow in the face and reached down to assist the boy to the deck. For a moment it seemed that both of them must be drawn under the boat, but the big fellow’s strength won, and Clay was hauled, dripping and exhausted, up on deck. Sam eyed him malevolently and snarled.
“It will come some time!”
Red pushed the boy toward the cabin, the look on his face friendlier than ever.
“Go and get into dry clothes,” he said. “Never mind what Sam says! He means all right, only he don’t know how to express himself!”
The Rambler now swung off toward the shore, and Red and Sam were kept busy working wreckage out of her course. They snarled at each other as they worked, and Clay was in constant fear that Sam would play some treacherous trick on the big fellow in return for the blow he had received. The marks of the short encounter were still on his face.
Much to his relief, the Rambler was edged into calmer water next to the Missouri shore. He had no idea at that time, even, that he would lose the boat. He did not know what had become of his chums, but he believed that in some way they would be able to come to his rescue. They had never failed him.
The Rambler drifted down for some distance, leaking a little but not seriously, and was finally worked into a little bay where there was no current.
That was a long day for the boy. Several boats passed up and down on the river, and relief parties searching for flood victims were frequently seen, but Red always announced that they were in no trouble whatever when questioned.
Clay was not bound again, but was kept in the cabin, with the door closed. He could hear calls from passing boats, but did not dare make the situation known.
During the day the outlaws devoured what cooked food there was in the cabin and gave some to the boy. Once Sam lay down for a short nap. Red was not communicative, and refused to answer any questions as to his intentions regarding the Rambler.
A fine mist came down as the night shut in, but presently the moon came out, and the outlaws began discussing the advisability of proceeding on down the river.
“We can get to our landing,” Sam insisted. “Once there, we can get into the bayou back of the island, where no one will think of looking for us. We must get the boat out of sight,” he went on, “before reports of her capture spread along the river. Besides, the boys will be waiting for us at the shanty.”
“All right,” Red finally agreed. “I’m willing to take my chance on being smashed flat by a tree or floating barn.”
Clay listened to the talk with interest. Somehow he began to recognize the voice of the big fellow! Where had he heard it before? Then, like a flash, the memory came to him! The man had talked with him from the river at Cairo! There is where he had heard the voice!
At that time the big fellow had been pleading for the safety of a waif who had come on board the Rambler! Both the man and the waif had disappeared when the officers had come on board. Clay wondered where the boy was, and why this outlaw had taken an interest in him. The man appeared to be kind, though his appearance and his modes of life were against him. It was all a deep mystery to the boy.
However, the giant’s defense of himself, when Sam would have mistreated and, perhaps, murdered him, led Clay to believe that he was not wholly depraved. There might be some powerful motive for his adopting the life of a river outlaw.
The boy resolved, at the first opportunity, to question Red regarding the fate of the lad who had so suddenly disappeared from the boat that night. He now saw that the willingness of his companions and himself to aid the waif had led to good results, for it was this willingness which had undoubtedly caused the giant to stand between him and injury or even death. His little loaf of bread cast on the waters had returned to good purpose!
Sam seized the pole, as soon as Red agreed to his proposition to make their way down the river without delay, and began working the Rambler out into the current.
“Better wait until that mess of wreckage passes!” Red advised, as a crush of floating timbers made its appearance under the moonlight. “If we get into that bunch we’ll never get out again. It will go by in a few moments.”
Sam stood looking at the mass with a frown on his sullen face. He was anxious to be away for more reasons than one. The boat had undoubtedly been reported seized long before this, and every craft passing up or down would soon be looking for her. His idea was that the lads who had left the boat would soon return and report the disappearance.
He did not know, of course, that Case was at New Madrid, or on the way there, when they had attacked Clay, nor did he suspect that Alex. and Jule had fallen into the hands of a band of bandits in every way as desperate and unscrupulous as that to which he belonged.
But, aside from the question of safety, there was another matter he wished brought to a conclusion. He had been assaulted by Red, and was raging for revenge. Once in the company of his lawless fellows, his revenge might be gained!
“There is some one on that wreckage,” the watchful Sam finally declared. “I saw a movement there. Good thing we are not near enough to be asked for help.”
Red looked at the floating raft and shook his head.
“There is a boat lodged against the mess,” he said, “but there’s no one on board her, and there’s no one on the raft, either.”
The light of the moon was now shut out by a drive of clouds, and the two men waited for a clear sky again. When the raft was revealed they saw a white bulldog running up and down across the timbers!
“That’s the brute I pitched overboard up in the bayou!” cried Sam. “I wish I had knocked him on the head. Some of those boys are not far off.”
Red laughed at the idea of the boys being there, But Clay, listening with every faculty awake, had a different notion of the capabilities of his chums.
“If Captain Joe is there,” the boy mused, his heart bounding with hope, “the boys are not far off! Anyway, I’ll give them a chance to see the old boat once more!” he continued, reaching out and turning on the cabin lights.
Sam uttered a fierce oath as the lights flashed out on the rushing water, and made for the cabin, but Red caught him by the arm and faced him around.
“Look here!” he snarled, “if you go to making trouble for that boy I’ll send your worthless hulk bobbing down to the Gulf! The lights won’t hurt! We don’t have to answer any calls for help that may come. Now, edge her out into the current and leave the boy to me. There’s no sense in beating up the kid!”
With a word of warning to Clay, not unkindly spoken, Red switched off the cabin lights, and then went to assist Sam in getting the Rambler out into the stream. Clay heard them saying that the raft was, after all, empty of life except for the dog.
“The boat lodged against it seems to be broken,” Red said, and Clay’s heart went into his throat again. He feared that the boys had been caught in wreckage and drowned. The presence of the dog showed that they had been with the broken boat, he thought.
Then, while the two men worked frantically in front, Clay heard the window leading to the cabin from the stern deck cautiously pushed aside, and then the faces of Alex. and Case appeared at the opening!
CHAPTER IX—RED DECLINES TO TALK
In a moment the ray of moonlight slanting through the west window of the cabin was cut off by a floating cloud, and the faces of the two boys passed out of view. Their voices, however, came to Clay, enquiringly.
“Are you all right?” Alex. asked.
“Have you got any dry guns in there?” was Case’s question.
Clay answered both questions in a whispered affirmative and moved softly toward the window. It was necessary that some definite plan of action should be agreed upon, for the lads’ presence there might be discovered at any time.
“Is Jule there?” whispered Clay.
“We’re all in this neighborhood!” snickered Alex., “including Mose, Teddy and Captain Joe! We came down the river in a busted boat and on a poor raft! We should have passed the Rambler only for the flash of lights in the cabin. What next?”
“First,” Clay answered, “I’ll get the reserve weapons. One of the outlaws has my gun, but the others are in the lower drawer of the cupboard. I’ve been trying to get at them for a long time, but this is the first time, since I was set free of bonds, that the men have been too busy to notice me.”
Clay crawled to the cupboard and secured three revolvers, held as a reserve stock.
“Now,” he directed, “you boys get through the window while the ruffians are busy and the moon is out of business.”
As the boys wiggled their way through the small opening, Teddy began uttering growls of joy and welcome. He pranced about the cabin, too, in spite of all Clay could do to restrain him, tipping over chairs and rattling the dishes in a great pan on the floor, where the pirates had left them after their luncheon.
And then, as if to add to the perplexities of the situation, the clouds which veiled the moon drifted away, and a slant of light shone full on the little stern deck, and on the figures grouped there. Case and Jule pulled themselves through into the cabin, but Alex. was left crouching on the outside. Clay passed him a revolver, and started to close the window.
At that moment, attracted by the unusual commotion on the inside, Sam lurched to the door and looked through the glass panel. He saw Clay at the window, and caught sight of a figure outside and called out to Red, who was still busy at the prow, trying to keep the boat out of a mass of wreckage which was coming down faster than the boat was going for the reason that it was farther out in the current.
Almost before Red could turn around, before his brain could grasp the significance of Sam’s warning shout, Clay swung the door open and turned the switch which operated the prow light. In an instant the deck of the Rambler was as light as it had ever been at noon. The cabin was still in darkness, save for the light which came through the glass panel of the door.
The hands of both outlaws swung to their hips as the light flashed out, but did not bring forth the weapons carried there. Instead, they came up empty and were pushed out straight and held there. It was Clay who had given the order to keep hands out.
Clay advanced along the unsteady deck to Sam and held his gun within an inch of his crooked nose, at the same time calling to Case to come and relieve the outlaw of his weapons.
Sam’s looks would have committed murder, if savage eyes and revengeful frowns could have done so, when the weapons were taken from him. Glancing hastily at Red, Clay thought he saw an amused smile lurking in the giant’s eyes.
“Now, Sam,” Clay said, “we’ve got to repair the motors and get the Rambler out of this ruck, where the leak can be repaired, so we’ve got no time to waste guarding a skunk like you. You would have murdered me if Red hadn’t interfered, but I’m going to give you a chance for your life! Can you swim?”
“Fo’ de Lawd’s sake!” grunted Mose, appearing on the deck, wet and shivering from the river, “dat’s de ’dentical question he done ask me!”
Captain Joe, who had come on board from the raft with the negro, sniffed at the heels of the outlaw and seemed to ask permission of Clay to take a bite out of him. The cub pranced around the little waif as if he had found a friend from whom he had long been parted. Sam did not answer the question. He glared at the weapons, at the exposed fangs of the bulldog, and turned a scowling face to Red.
“These rascals seem to be friends of yours,” he said. “I don’t hear anything about your being given a chance to swim! Is this a frame-up?”
Red’s already flushed face darkened at the insulting question, and he would have struck Sam only that Case, whose gun was at his breast, motioned him to desist.
“There’ll come a time!” growled Sam. “Me an’ you will have a settlement right soon after we get shut of these imitation tramps. Understand that?”
“Yes, kiddo,” Red cut in, turning to Clay, “Sam can swim. He’s great on giving exhibition stunts in the water. He can do anything with water except drink it.”
“Glad to know it!” Clay replied, “for I want to see how far he can swim! Take a run-and-jump, you toy pirate, and get overboard.”
“Fo’ de Lawd’s sake, dat’s what he said to dis——”
Sam did not wait to hear the completion of the sentence, for Captain Joe, sensing, doubtless, that the outlaw was in bad with the party, advanced upon him. The pirate sprang for a floating timber, missed it, and went under. He came up in a second and struck out for the shore through a comparatively clear channel. The boys watched him until he crawled out on a mud bank and then turned to Red.
“Well?” asked that individual, a smile on his face. “What next?”
“First,” Clay said, “I want to thank you for saving me from that ruffian, and then I want you to sit down and wait until we get up the greatest dinner that ever was served on the Mississippi. I’m half starved, and I know that the boys are. Of course, if you want to land right now, we’ll put you ashore.”
“I reckon,” Red replied, with a slight tremble in his gruff voice, “that I can’t do better than to stick here for a time!”
“Well,” Clay went on, “the boys are wet and cold, as well as hungry, and so I’ll have to do the cooking. Will you come in the cabin and sit by me while I do it?”
“Will I? I’m lucky not to be out there on the shore with Sam!”
The two passed into the cabin, after the boys had put on dry clothes and warmed themselves at the coal stove, and Clay set about cooking a mammoth steak which had been bought at Cairo and kept in the tiny refrigerator. Then he boiled potatoes, and made light biscuit, and the coffee he produced was a hearty meal in itself! There were tinned beans, and sardines, and salmon, and many other things when the meal began, but when it was over the table was bare of everything in the provision line!
In the joy and comfort of being full-fed, Mose, Captain Joe, and Teddy rolled up in a common rug on the floor, in a corner where they would not be in the way, and went to sleep. Clay and Red went out on deck while the others washed the dishes.
“Are you thinking of sticking about this section all night?” asked the latter.
“Only for a short time,” Clay answered. “We’ll fix the motors, directly, and go on down the river. Why do you ask the question? Don’t you want to stay here?”
“I was thinking,” Red observed, quite coolly, “that, with the lights going, and the shore not far away, Sam might be thinking of taking a shot or two at the boys!”
“But he hasn’t any gun!” Clay exclaimed.
“Yes, he has,” Red returned. “He has a gun that wasn’t found on him. He keeps it in a watertight sack under his left arm. He’s used to taking to the water!”
“And you think he will hang about the bank, walking down from where he was put off, and try to pick us off?” asked Clay. “How far are we now from the mud bank he mounted?”
“Not more than a couple of miles,” was the reply. “We are in water that shows only a trace of current now, because there is a great headland just below, and the flood has packed the curve full. He probably has been able to keep up with the boat.”
“That isn’t going very fast!” laughed Clay, “for it has been at least two hours since he left the boat. The moon, which is in the first quarter, sets about eleven, and it is hiding itself in the trees already!”
“I wouldn’t advise sticking hereabouts,” insisted Red. “I can say no more!”
“All right!” Clay replied. “We’ll fix the motors and start on down. Here, Case,” he called out, “did you bring the repairs?”
“Surest thing you know!” was the answer, and in a short time Clay was at work on the motive power, which was not much out of repair and was soon fixed.
“You know, of course,” Clay said to Red, as the Rambler, under perfect control, started down stream at a pace which kept the driftwood from lunging against her stern, “that I recognize you as the man who talked with me out of the river at Cairo?”
“I never suspected it!” was the slow reply. “How do you know I’m the man?”
“Your voice!” was the reply. “It puzzled me at first, though.”
“I’ll have to trade voices with some river rascal!” grinned Red.
“You spoke, that night, about a boy who had come on board?” Clay said, tentatively.
“That was my business there,” Red replied, with a slight frown.
“Where did the boy go that night? We never saw him after the officers came on board. He must have swum to the Missouri shore.”
“He did,” was the hesitating reply. “He made it, too!”
“Why didn’t he remain with us?” asked Clay.
“He got scared! If I had kept away he might have done so.”
“Is he your son?” was the next question Clay asked.
Red looked the boy in the face steadily for a moment and then asked:
“You don’t want to harm the lad, do you?”
“I want to help him,” was the reply. “He looked so forlorn, and wet, and cold, and hungry, that I’ve thought of him a lot since. Where is he now?”
“Well,” Red said, in a perplexed tone, “that is what I can’t tell you.”
“Because you don’t know where he is?” demanded Clay.
“No; not that. I know where he is, but I can’t tell you.”
“Is the child implicated in any crime?” Clay asked, looking sharply into the man’s flushed face. “Is there any reason why he can’t go with us?”
“Why do you suggest crime in connection with the kid?” demanded Red, a frown on his face. “He may be associated with criminals, innocently, and yet be worthy of all your confidence and esteem!”
They talked a long time about the boy, about the events of the day, and about the future plans of the Rambler boys. The boat made good progress during the night while all save Clay and his strange companion slept. With the first flush of dawn Red asked to be put ashore, refusing to give any reason for wanting to leave the boat.
“You’ve used me mighty white,” he said at parting, “and there’ll come another day! Don’t you ever forget that, lads! There’ll come another day! And if you come across that waif again, just feed him, and warm him, and clothe him, and pass him on to wherever he wants to go. Thank you all!” and he was gone!
“What do you think of that for a mystery?” Clay asked as the man disappeared in a grove near the landing. “We shall hear from Red again.”
CHAPTER X—MORE RIVER OUTLAWS
“And I have a notion that we’ll run across that waif again,” Case said. “I imagine that he is somewhere down the river, and that Red will not be far away when we come to him. Somehow, we bunt into mysteries wherever we go!”
“I’ve got a hunch,” Alex. exclaimed, “that we are headed for news of that warehouse robbery at Rock Island! It seems to me too, that the boy had something to do, with it, or is mixed up in it in some way.”
“He looked pretty lean and shabby for a chap who had been interested in a diamond robbery!” Jule suggested. “Perhaps he’s not guilty—just suspected!”
The day was fine and the flood was running out. The river showed less wreckage than had been seen the day before, for the lowering water caused much of it to land on headlands and sandbars. During the forenoon the Rambler, which was still leaking a trifle, passed several river shanties and houseboats, tied up below half-submerged islands, where they were protected from wreckage.
These houseboats are common all along the Ohio, Cumberland, Tennessee and Mississippi rivers. Fishermen and indolent river characters live in them the year round. Some of the boats are of good size and well built and furnished, while others are merely shanties built on rafts of logs and other spoils taken from the waters.
Many of the boats carry whole families, and go sailing toward the Gulf with streamers of shirts and petticoats blowing from clotheslines. Others carry two or three men and numberless dogs. Those who reside on the boats live principally on fish, and on corn meal and pork purchased with the proceeds of fish sales.
Shortly after dinner the boys were asked to come on board a shanty boat navigated by two men and numerous dogs, so the Rambler was run alongside and Clay and Alex. went aboard, where they were warmly welcomed by two Chicago young men who were making the river trip in the way of a winter vacation. Their quarters were crude but comfortable. They had had a rough voyage because of the flood, but declared that they were going down to the Gulf if the raft held out.
Almost the first question Clay asked was about the Rock Island robbery.
“So you have been overhauled by the officers, too, have you?” laughed one of the young men, called Ben by his chum. “We had a bit of that, also, but the officers didn’t remain with us very long. It doesn’t take a week to search our craft!”
“Are you sure they were officers?” asked Clay.
“Oh, yes, they were officers, all right. They asked for a boy of about twelve, who, they declared, had been seen down the river, and who is believed to have been associated with the Rock Island robbers. They also asked for a man of six feet and over, with red hair.”
Clay looked at Alex. significantly and asked for any news they might have of the robbery—any details they might have learned.
“Oh, we got the story from a St. Louis newspaper we begged of a steamer captain,” was the reply. “It seems that the silks, furs, and diamonds stolen were stored in the warehouse one day and taken out by thieves that same night. A boy answering to the description of the one the officers asked for was seen about the premises during the afternoon, and at one time he was observed in the company of a giant of a man with red hair.
“It is the theory of the police that the thieves captured the boy and forced him to enter through a broken window and unfastened the door, à~la Oliver Twist. They believe that if he can be caught he will be able to identify the robbers if they are caught. The red-headed man was seen in the city, wandering about the streets, aimlessly, on the night of the crime. It is not believed that he was interested in the robbery personally. However, they want him because he seemed to take a great interest in the boy.”
“Have the officers found any of the stolen property?” asked Alex.
“Not that we know of,” was the reply. “The robbers got off handily, and it is believed they put the goods on board some river boat and sent them down toward New Orleans. Diamonds, silks and furs can be hidden in a small space.”
The boys visited with the strangers for an hour or more and then went on down the river, sailing a very little faster than the shanty boat, which depended entirely on the current, and which was obliged to tie up at intervals to avoid wreckage.
“I’ve got a notion,” Alex. said, as the boys left the shanty boat in the distance, “that the newspaper story is the right one. That boy never took part in that robbery of his own free will, though. I am sure of it! And the man? That was Red he described, eh?”
“It undoubtedly was,” Clay replied, thoughtfully.
“That’s your bosom friend!” Alex. grinned. “You let him escape!”
“What else could I do, under the circumstances?” demanded Clay. “The fellow saved my life! Sam would have murdered me only for him!”
“Well, if he’s on the level, what’s he doing with a man like Sam?” questioned Alex., still grinning.
“We shall have to leave that question to the future,” was the short reply.
“You believe that Red had a hand in the robbery at Rock Island?” persisted the boy.
“I don’t think anything about it! I’m waiting for additional information!”
“Well, we’ve got a long way to go yet,” Case cut in, “and we may meet with the red-headed man again. We may meet him in some jail yet, if our luck doesn’t change!”
“Speaking about jails,” Alex. questioned, “what do you make of the old jail of a house Jule and I were locked up in? What do you think they wanted to hold us for?”
“Probably to keep you from spying on what was going on there,” Clay suggested.
“But what was going on there?” asked Alex. “That is what we didn’t find out!”
“Whatever it was,” Jule observed, “the people interested in keeping it secret took long chances when they left us in the dark room with only an old man to guard us. And imagine them never knowing that Mose and the dog were in the grounds!”
At mention of Mose Alex. burst into a roar of laughter.
“I never saw a human face that showed real fear until I saw Mose looking in at the broken window!” he said, directly. “I have seen men and women show fright, but never anything like that! He thought he had come on a collection of ghosts! I presume he thought we, Jule and I, were dead and buried in the cellar, and that our spirits had come forth to haunt the murderers! And he streaked it away like a flash of light!”
“There’s probably nothing worse than the manufacture of moonshine whisky going on in the old house,” Case contributed. “Or the loot from the warehouse may have been stored there,” he added. “The boys heard heavy articles being moved, though they may have been scared stiff and mistook the footsteps of a mouse for the heavy noises!”
“I hope you’ll get in just such a predicament some day!” growled Jule. “It wasn’t any fun, sitting there in the dark! And I expected that crazy old man to shoot us any moment! I believe he was crazy! He acted as if he was!”
“That’s right!” exclaimed Case. “Keep on talking, and I won’t have to wash a dish all the way to the Gulf. I love to hear you get funny.”
“That will do for you!” cried Jule, gleefully. “I see you washing the supper dishes right now!”
“I’d like to go back and investigate that old house,” Alex. observed. “It would be great fun! I believe it stood there when the cave-dwellers lived along the Chickasaw bluffs, and that was before De Soto discovered the river and was buried in its depths.”
“I thought La Salle discovered the Mississippi,” Case said, with a wink at Clay.
“He made a stab at navigating it from the Illinois river down,” Alex. answered, seeing that Case was prodding him in the desire of receiving information. “But he gave the wrong course to the stream. The real Mississippi turns at St. Louis and runs off toward the Rocky Mountains.”
“Yes it does!” exclaimed Jule. “You’re in need of mental rest, young man.”
“Certainly it does,” Alex. insisted. “The longest stretch of water takes the river name, doesn’t it? Well, the Missouri is about three thousand miles long from the fountain-heads of the Gallatin, Madison and Red Rock lakes to the junction with the Mississippi, while from the junction to headwaters the Mississippi is only about twelve hundred miles long!”
“It does seem as if the longest river should carry the name,” said Case. “In that event, this would be the Missouri river!”
“Sure it would,” insisted Alex. “The river from the Red Rock lakes to the Gulf is the longest river in the world—eight hundred miles longer than the Amazon, though not so wide! Some day the name of the Missouri will become the Mississippi, or the Mississippi will be called the Missouri!”
The boys argued over the proposition for a long time, until it was time to get supper, and then Clay and Alex. began watching for ducks, with which the river swarms at times. While they secured three fair-sized birds, Alex. caught fish, and insisted on their being cooked with the ducks.
“I’ll never get enough to eat if I leave the menu to you boys,” he declared, “and Mose feels about it just as I do!” he added, pulling the little negro’s ear.
“Ah sure do feel empty!” answered Mose, rolling up his eyes.
The Mississippi is a tangle of channels and islands above Memphis, and the boys decided to tie up for the night on the down-stream side of one of the little “tow-heads” which are so frequently seen close to larger islands. These are formed by deposits of sand and vegetable matter, but they increase in size rapidly as soon as cotton-wood brush takes possession of the new ground, assisting materially in resisting the encroachments of the current.
The islands of the Mississippi are numerous and uncertain as to location. They have all been formed by the cutting of new channels across headlands. The river itself winds like a very crooked snake through the soft bottom lands of the south, and the water is forever finding new and shorter ways to reach the Gulf.
From the junction of the Ohio, there are one hundred and twenty-five numbered islands from Cairo to Bayou la Fourche, in Louisiana, and besides these there are nearly as many more which bear the names of the owners. Many of these islands are grown up with impenetrable thickets or show only deserted fields.
In proceeding down the great river the boys had kept on only sufficient power to gain steerway, as they were in no haste to reach the Gulf of Mexico, which was their final destination on that trip. They decided that day to travel nights no more.
After supper had been eaten the boys switched on all the lights and sat out on deck. There was a brilliant moon, but they preferred to let everybody in that vicinity know that they were there—hence the electric lights.
“If any one sneaks up on us now,” Alex. laughed, “he’ll have to get to us by the under-water route! And, even then, one of us would be apt to see him. Captain Joe is losing his record as a watch dog, but I guess Teddy can take his place.”
Captain Joe, as if he understood every word that had been said, and resented the insinuation, walked up to the prow and sat in a meditative mood, looking over the small “tow-head” which sheltered the boat from the current. He sat there motionless so long that Alex. finally called attention to him.
“Ah knows what he’s done seein’!” exclaimed Mose. “Dar’s a big fat coon watchin’ us from dat mess ob bushes. Ah done seen him long time ago!”
An inspection of the spot pointed out showed half a dozen evil-looking negroes watching the boat.
CHAPTER XI—FIRE-FACES ON THE ISLAND
“What are they squatting there watching the boat for?” queried Jule, as the prow light fell full on the group of negroes on the island. “They don’t look good to me!”
“If we keep away from them,” Case suggested, “and don’t try to stare them out of countenance, they’ll probably keep away from us. They do look fierce, though!”
While the boys discussed the matter the negroes moved away from the shore of the island, where they were under the boat lights, and secreted themselves behind a patch of willows which fringed the “tow-head,” for the place where they were was little else.
“I don’t believe they have any idea of letting us alone, if they can manage to get on board the Rambler,” Clay declared. “I have often read that lawless negroes and whites are alike alert for plunder during flood seasons, and it is floating goods those fellows are after, unless I am much mistaken. We’ll have to keep a sharp watch to-night.”
“Wouldn’t it be wiser to drive them away?” asked Alex., with one of his grins.
“We have no right to drive them away,” Case suggested. “We may get into trouble if we try it. I’ll watch half the night and not mind it at all.”
Alex. nudged Jule in the side and whispered in his ear for a moment.
“Jule and I will watch the first half,” he then said. “Perhaps they will go off home by midnight, and Case won’t have to watch at all.”
“Alex.,” Clay exclaimed, “you’ve got some mischief in your mind. Heretofore you’ve come out of your scrapes with whole bones, but sometime you’ll get into serious trouble if you don’t stop running out nights. I strongly advise you to let those levee negroes alone! You go to bed early, and I’ll watch the boat!”
“Who’s got mischief in the mind?” grinned Alex. “I guess I can stay up until midnight without gettin’ into trouble! You see if I don’t make the dandy watchman to-night! When it comes to keeping guard, I’m the candy boy!”
“You usually manage to get into trouble when you are left alone!” laughed Clay.
“If I can’t be good to-night,” grinned Alex., “I’ll be careful.”
Nothing more was seen of the negroes at that time, although the boys were satisfied that they were still on the island, as no boat had been seen to leave it.
After a time Clay, Case and Mose went to bed, leaving Alex., Jule, Captain Joe, and Teddy on deck. The dog seemed particularly wide awake, moving about as if he scented danger, while the cub sat looking toward the island with twitching nostrils.
“Seems as if the dog and the cub know there’s something coming off here to-night,” Jule remarked, as Captain Joe put his paw on the gunwale and sniffed the air. “Do you really think they have a way of discovering approaching peril which human beings have not? Captain Joe certainly looks as if he saw something unpleasant coming.”
“I often think dogs have an instinct which warns them of danger,” Alex. replied.
“Well,” Jule went on, “we’ll soon see what comes of the signals of danger he is now handing out to us! Whatever he sees or senses is on that island.”
The boys watched for a long time, but there came no sounds of life from the island.
“You’re like the dog,” Jule said to Alex., presently. “You are getting ready for a break of some sort! Suppose you loosen up and tell me what it is?”
“You remember that night on the Amazon, when we scared the life out of a couple of renegade Englishmen and a native Indian?” asked Alex.
“Sure I do!” was the reply. “That was the funniest ever!”
“Well,” Alex. explained, “I’m goin’ to try something like that on these negroes.”
“Better let ’em alone!” advised Jule. “They are wise to tricks!”
“Shucks!” Alex. laughed. “I’ll have them walking on their heads, and walking the water at that. I wish I had a boat, so I wouldn’t have to swim to the island!”
“We’ve lost a rowboat every trip!” Jule exclaimed. “I wonder why we didn’t pick the one we had off the raft and fix it up. It wasn’t badly smashed.”
“We may find it yet,” Alex. said, hopefully. “We have come down just a little faster than the current, and so it is probably behind us. When it comes down we’ll get it and make it as good as new.”
“Yes, when we get it!” laughed Jule. “There’s a thousand people along the island beaches and mainland levees watching for boats! Just like these negroes are watching for anything at all that seems worth picking out of the water!”
“It won’t do any harm to keep a lookout for it,” Alex. decided. “Now,” he added, turning out the lights and throwing off his coat, “do you want to go to the shore with me? If you will go I’ll show you a race that will beat anything you ever saw.”
“And leave the boat alone?” demanded Jule. “I should say not. I’ll remain here and see that your retreat is properly covered. You’ll want some one here to hold a gun on the negroes you seem determined to stir up.”
“Now don’t get a grouch on,” pleaded Alex. “I’m doing this purely in the interest of science! I want to see how far the emancipation proclamation has relieved the negroes of the south from the old-time superstitions of the race! Not to put too fine a point upon it, kid, I want to see what a good healthy ghost will do to a lot of river thieves! Do you get me?”
“Going to play ghost, are you,” laughed Jule. “Then I’ll be a ghost, too!”
Alex. listened at the cabin door for a moment, but heard no sounds indicating the lack of sleep on the inside. Then he crept in, fumbled around in the darkness until he found two old bathing suits and a square package which smelled of sulphur.
“Now,” he explained to Jule, as he came out, “we’ll put on these bathing suits, so as to have dry clothes ready when we return from the island! You take a part of the matches, for we may become separated in the thicket. We won’t do the Mephisto act until we get to the island, then rub the sulphur on thick—on your hands and face.”
“I guess I know how!” Jule remonstrated.
The boys placed their clothing in two piles on the deck and donned the bathing suits—much to the wonder of Captain Joe, who wrinkled his nose and looked suspiciously at the boys. His remarks on the subject of bathing in a swift river in the night time were not in favor of the experiment. However, he crouched down by Alex.’s feet and expressed himself as willing to share in the doubtful expedition.
“When we get into the willows,” Alex. explained, “I’ll let out a yell which will put Mose’s efforts in that direction away to the bad! Then you run at them on the right and I’ll close in on the left, and we’ll see a race that will put the Greek events out on a blind siding with fires banked. When you are ready, drop in and swim for the bunch of willows straight ahead. Swim slow and don’t make any noise.”
The boys left the dark deck of the Rambler and entered the water. There was little current where the boat lay, and they had no difficulty in making the willows pointed out by the promoter of the midnight excursion. The lights of Memphis made a faint haze in the sky to the south. The wash of the river drowned all individual noises. In the distance the caving of a bank sent down a heavy sound.
Believing that they had left the boat without awakening any of the sleepers and landed on the island without attracting the attention of the negroes, the boys crouched down in a thicket and listened.
The moon, which would set about midnight, was low down in the west, and gave a fitful light at rare intervals. There was a heavy mass of thunderheads in the sky, and few stars showed through. There were no indications of a light or fire on the island.
The boys, however, were much mistaken in their understanding of the situation. When they dropped off the deck of the Rambler, Clay poked his head out of the cabin and watched them as far as the darkness would permit. Then he returned to the cabin, put on a bathing suit and took a square box from the cupboard.
The box contained the reserve weapons and flashlights of the party and was waterproof. With this in his hand, and leaving Captain Joe on guard, with strict orders not to leave the deck, he entered the water and swam toward the shore, turning away from the bunch of willows where the two boys had landed.