Jack fought desperately, but as he was helpless, and in return for his struggles received only a rain of brutal blows, he deemed it wiser to remain quiet. Soon both he and the millionaire had their hands tied behind their backs and gags of dirty grass were thrust, none too gently, into their mouths.
“Now march, and behave yourselves or you’ll be shot,” snarled ‘Bully’ Broom, whose temper had not been improved by the blow Muldoon’s strong fist had given him.
As it would have been folly to have resisted, situated as they were, the two prisoners did as they were told. Jack wondered where they were being taken and why they had been attacked. Even his acute mind did not connect their captors with ‘Bully’ Broom and his gang. The boy thought they had fallen into the hands of one of those bands of free-booters, known to frequent parts of the bush, holding up helpless travelers.
He felt sorry for Mr. Jukes, though. The millionaire was stout and accustomed to his ease. After his tiring day this night march must have been cruel exertion to him. But if he lagged, the man of millions received a vicious jab in the back with the stock of a rifle.
Even in this trouble, Jack could not help reflecting on the strange turn of the wheel of fortune that had brought Jacob Jukes, man of millions, into the heart of a lonely jungle, a shirt-sleeved, perspiring prisoner, in the hands of a band of men of undoubtedly desperate character. He wondered, too, if the millionaire himself was not contrasting this cruel march through the forest with his magnificent town and country houses, his automobiles, his lavishly furnished offices and his elaborate entertainments. If he were doing so, Jack surmised that his thoughts must be bitter. In thinking thus, Jack contrived largely to keep his mind off his own misfortunes.
A journey of some hours, at the close of which Mr. Jukes began to give every outward sign of deep physical exhaustion, brought them to a clearing, once cultivated, but now neglected, overlooking the river. Here, on a bluff about fifty feet above the water, in years gone by, a trading company had maintained a post. It had been built in the days when the natives were troublesome in that section and it was a strong structure like a fort. It was almost overgrown with rank tropical vines, but evidently the way to it was not unknown to the men conducting Mr. Jukes and Jack.
Lanterns were lit and when the two captives had been ushered in both were made fast to the logs that formed the walls of the place. Jack glanced at Mr. Jukes. The millionaire was assuredly a pitiable-looking object. His fine white shirt was torn almost to ribbons by thorny vines encountered along the path, his carefully groomed appearance had given way to a general disreputableness that would have gained him recognition by any tramp as a member of the fraternity, his face was almost purple, from his enforced exertions and the gag in his mouth.
“Gracious, he looks as if he might have apoplexy at any minute,” thought Jack, who, although he was in as bad a plight, characteristically did not spend any sympathy on himself. Perhaps the members of the band that had captured them noticed what Jack had, and feared fatal consequences, for Mr. Jukes’ gag was soon removed and so was Jack’s.
When this had been done, and before Mr. Jukes could recover his breath enough to speak, the rascals withdrew to the other end of the building, which was like a long mess hall and may indeed have been used at some time as such.
“What does this outrage mean?” demanded Jack, as the black-bearded man strolled off last of all, after looking them over with a cynical smile.
“You would like to know, eh, Jack Ready?”
“So you know my name?” exclaimed Jack in some surprise.
“Yes, and that of your companions who will join you here before long. We hope to have the pleasure of your company for quite a long time.”
“You abominable ruffian,” cried Jack, overcome by indignation, “you will pay dearly for this some time,” but at the same time the boy did not believe that the rest had been caught napping and captured. They were a strong party and, led by Muldoon, he knew they would put up a stiff fight.
“I wish you had taken my warning, Mr. Jukes,” Jack could not help saying, as soon as they were left alone.
“You wish it no more fervently than I do, my boy,” was the despondent reply. “Wall Street and New York seem like a dream to me. Only this horror is real.”
“I would like to know what it all means,” said Jack. “These men can’t be just common robbers; they appear to have a regular hang-out here.”
“I can’t help thinking that I’ve seen some of these ruffians loitering about Bomobori,” said Mr. Jukes.
“That struck me, too. At any rate they must be the party Thurman wirelessed to me about as leaving just behind us. They’ve followed our trail pretty closely, too. We should have been more on our guard.”
Slowly the hours wore by till daylight began to show in the narrow windows of the old barracks. The positions of both prisoners were most uncomfortable. The strain on their arms from the tightly tied cords was almost unbearable.
“And to think I used to complain of discomfort if my chauffeur allowed my car to bump over a rut,” groaned Mr. Jukes, with a comical pathos that would have made Jack smile had they been in any other situation.
All the men had left the place, but they could hear the murmur of their voices outside. A smell of wood smoke drifted in and then the tantalising odors of frying bacon and the aroma of coffee combined to remind both prisoners that, in spite of their sufferings, they were both hungry and thirsty.
“I wonder if we are going to get any breakfast?” asked Jack, after a silence broken only by Mr. Jukes’ pathetic groans.
“I’d risk a month of dyspepsia for a plate of beans and bacon right now,” wailed the unhappy millionaire.
“Yes,” thought Jack. “There are decidedly situations where all the millions in the world wouldn’t do you much good, and this, apparently, is one of them.”
At last footsteps were heard approaching from the opposite end of the ramshackle building.
“Somebody at last,” cried Jack.
He had hardly spoken when ‘Bully’ Broom stood before them, followed by—Donald Judson.
Jack found it difficult to credit his eyesight as he gazed at the boy who formerly had made so much trouble for them and the gigantic ruffian who stood beside him.
“Judson! Is it possible?” he gasped. “What brought you here?”
“Are you a prisoner, too?” demanded Mr. Jukes.
“A prisoner?” laughed Judson. “Well, that’s a good one, I must say. Only fools walk into traps.”
“Well, what are you doing here then, boy?” demanded the millionaire, recollecting his former kindness to Donald. “You ask him, Ready. He’s a friend of yours.”
“He’s no friend of mine, Mr. Jukes,” denied Jack. “Can’t you see it all?”
“Why, the contemptible turn-coat is in with these rascals.”
“Impossible!”
“So, Judson,” went on Jack, “this is how you repay our kindness to you?”
“Your kindness,” sneered the boy. “I want none of it. I’m in with a good crowd now. Besides, I told you in Bomobori I didn’t want to go with your old expedition.”
“But you didn’t refuse the money I got you from Mr. Jukes,” said Jack.
“Oh, he’s made of money,” chuckled Donald, “and we mean to get some more of it.”
“You miserable young whelp,” panted the helpless millionaire, purple with rage, “if I had you in America——”
“And anyhow,” continued Judson, thoroughly enjoying this, “you are only getting what’s coming to you, Ready. In the States you tried to have me put in pris—er that is you wanted to tell lies about me.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t have you locked up, now,” said Jack bitterly. “I suppose you put this gang of scoundrels on our trail.”
“You can suppose anything you want,” was the rejoinder, but a bit of the old boastfulness crept into his tone, “and you’re going to pay up, too, before you get out of this. Have you had them searched, Captain Broom?”
“What——?” shouted the millionaire, almost beside himself at this sudden revelation of the black-bearded man’s identity, “are you ‘Bully’ Broom?”
“My name’s Broom all right,” was the surly reply, “but I want my proper handle, which is Captain.”
“What have you done with my brother, you infernal rascal?” stormed the millionaire.
“Now you ain’t going to get along any better by cutting up rough and losing your temper like that, pard’ner,” was the cool reminder. “You may be my guest for quite a time, so let’s you and me get along peaceable. Otherwise we’ll find a way to make you keep a civil tongue in your head.”
“Did you have them searched?” repeated Donald greedily. “If you did I want my share of it.”
“They were searched, Judson, but they only had a few dollars; not more than a hundred at most.”
“Bah!” growled Judson; “then they left some behind at old Baroni’s place. If we don’t capture the others, then——”
“Never mind that, now,” commanded Broom; “you tell ’em what I told you.”
“All right,” assented Judson, and then, turning to Jack, he said:
“Do you know why you were brought here, Mr. Fresh?”
“To be robbed, I suppose. I see no other explanation to it,” was Jack’s reply, with a steady look at Judson that made the other drop his eyes. “I always knew you were a bad lot, Judson, but I never thought you were as bad as this.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m as good as you,” stormed Judson, although he looked uneasy. Jack’s shot had told. “To be brief, we want to make money out of you.”
“In what way?”
“First of all, you must answer our questions.”
“That’s the way,” approved ‘Bully’ Broom, stroking his huge beard. “How much money did you bring with you from America?”
“Very little cash,” replied the millionaire, who had found it more prudent to control his temper, “most of the money is in the form of a letter of credit.”
“Where is that letter of credit?” demanded Judson, interfering.
“It is in Bomobori with the bankers,” was the reply, and Jack rejoiced to think that Mr. Jukes had managed to tell him that, as most of the money had been left behind at the hostelry with Captain Sparhawk, who had been appointed a sort of pay-master to the party.
“Well, now we’ll come down to brass tacks,” growled Broom, after an interval of thought. “How much is your liberty worth to you?”
“So that’s your game, is it, you rascally blackmailer?” sputtered the infuriated millionaire. “You won’t get a cent out of me.”
But ‘Bully’ Broom only smiled.
“Perhaps in a few days you’ll sing a different tune,” he said, and something, not in the words, but in the way they were uttered, sent a cold shiver down Jack’s spine.
“Well, what do you demand?” was the millionaire’s next question.
Donald Judson drew ‘Bully’ Broom aside and whispered to him. The other nodded.
“The least we will take is one hundred thousand dollars,” he said.
The millionaire grew purple.
“What?” he almost shouted.
“That is for the liberty of both,” said ‘Bully’ Broom coolly. “Fifty thousand for the boy and fifty thousand for you. If you don’t want to take the boy, you can pay up fifty thousand and we will keep him.”
“What would you do with him?”
“Well, the river is full of hungry alligators——” grinned the wretch.
“You scoundrel,” thundered Mr. Jukes, “do you suppose I’d leave him behind, anyway?” Jack cast him a grateful look. “But what have you done with my brother, you ruffian?”
“Ah! I was coming to that,” said the rascal with an insolent smile, “but you can also have him for the very insignificant sum that I have already mentioned as being the price for you and the boy.”
“You’re worth a whole lot more than that, Jukes,” put in Judson, with an equally insolent air. “You’re a regular old money-bags, you know.”
“You’ll never get my money,” raged the millionaire.
“We won’t, eh?”
“Never.”
“Hunger makes a lot of difference, Mr. Jukes,” smiled Broom.
“So you mean to starve us into submission, eh?” demanded Jack. “I don’t see how such rogues can exist. Judson, you are the worst young hound I ever heard of.”
In high rage the boy’s enemy stepped up to him and deliberately struck him a heavy blow in the face, which Jack was, of course, powerless to return.
“Yes, a cowardly trick like that is in perfect accordance with what I know of your nature,” said Jack with menacing quietness.
“You dare say that again,” screamed Donald, beside himself with anger, “just you dare and I’ll——” He ended with a shake of his fist.
“Oh, you can’t scare me, even if I am tied,” said Jack scornfully.
His perfect calmness added fuel to the fire of Judson’s rage.
“I’ll fix you,” he yelled, “I’ll——”
“Judson, be quiet,” ordered Broom, and the boy subsided. “Now,” went on the free-booter to Mr. Jukes, “your best plan, if you don’t want to lose a few pounds, will be to make out a check for that money. Of course, we’ll have to keep you here till it’s safely cashed, otherwise you might, and probably would, stop the check. But——”
“Don’t pay a cent, Mr. Jukes,” interrupted Jack.
Judson stepped suddenly forward and struck the helpless lad another stinging blow. It was such a hard one that Jack’s senses swam for a minute.
“Shame on you, you young villain,” cried Mr. Jukes. “He is helpless, otherwise you wouldn’t dare lay hands on him.”
“Who says so? I could lick him any day,” swaggered Judson imprudently.
“Have you people no sense of right and honesty in your compositions?” demanded Mr. Jukes.
But this appeal had no more effect on Broom than it would have had on adamant.
“We’re no worse than you millionaires, if all the papers say is true,” he retorted. “You rob in your way, we rob in ours. We’re not quite so refined about it, perhaps. That’s the only difference, Mr. Jukes.”
“You ruffian! Do you compare business,—legitimate business,—with your rascally trade?”
“My rascally trade, as you please to term it, is business,—legitimate business,—to me,” returned Broom.
“Are we to have any food?” demanded the millionaire abruptly.
“When you listen to reason, yes.”
“And your idea of reason is that I consent to pay that preposterous ransom?”
“Your insight does you credit, Mr. Jukes. Sign that check and you shall have all you want to eat within the poor limits of my larder, and reasonable liberty till it is cashed. After that you are free to go where you will.”
“Our friends will raise a hue and cry for us,” declared Jack. “They’ll find us and put you where you belong, behind the bars.”
Broom and young Judson turned away and left the hut by another door from the one by which they had entered.
“You think they will pay?” asked Broom, with some anxiety in his voice.
“I’m sure they will. Even a tight-wad old millionaire will pay up when it comes to a choice between that and starving.”
“Then you think they are sure to give in?”
“Without a doubt. Then it is only a question of waiting for the money and getting out.”
“I don’t mind that. But I didn’t like what they said about their friends following us here.”
“Why you said nobody knew the way here through the swamps but yourself along that path we came last night.”
“That’s true, but then there’s the river. However, it would be impossible to see the old fort from below and anyhow the cliff is fifty feet high and easily guarded.”
“Of course you are foolish to worry. However, perhaps if they don’t give in in a day or two we had better be moving along. That young Ready’s chum, Billy, has given me trouble before.”
“Well,” said Broom, “we’ll see how things come out. If they don’t want to perish in the swamps they’ll have to come by the river. From now on I’ll have that cliff guarded.”
“Yes, and if any rescue party comes they’ll get a big surprise,” was young Judson’s reply.
“I wish I’d gone along with them,” muttered Raynor to himself as he slipped on his socks and boots so as to be ready instantly in case of alarm. “I don’t like the look of this thing at all.”
For some minutes he sat there listening intently. But no sound came from outside.
“I guess I’ll just join them anyhow,” he resolved to himself, getting on his feet. “This waiting is too nerve-racking. I’ll——”
The boy halted where he stood. A loud shout from the jungle reached his ears.
“Something has happened!” cried the boy.
He reached for his pistol, and hastily buckling it on, he was about to rush out of the hostelry when a wild figure appeared.
“Help! There’s murther goin’ on. Help!”
It was Muldoon, fleeing before three of Broom’s followers. But as the pursuers came in sight of the hotel they halted. The next moment they were in active retreat.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” gasped Raynor.
“Those spalpeens out yonder. They’ve captured Misther Jukes and Jack Riddy.”
“We must rouse the others at once and go in pursuit,” decided Billy.
He hurried off to awaken Captain Sparhawk, while Muldoon aroused Salloo, who in turn, soon had his native followers astir. It did not take Captain Sparhawk much longer to get into his clothes when he heard Billy’s alarming news than it did for the natives, who were not embarrassed by garments, to adjust what few they did wear.
It was well they had hastened, for the rascally landlord of the place had, by this time, aroused all the half-castes in the place and as, headed by Captain Sparhawk, they set off into the jungle, there was a scattering firing of shots behind them. Nobody was hurt, however, and they hastened forward to the place where Muldoon told them the capture had taken place.
Salloo was consulted and he made a careful examination of the surroundings. It was considered quite safe to make this halt, as the tumult behind them had died out and was probably only incited by the hotel owner in order to get them out of the village.
“Must wait till light come,” decided Salloo at last, “no can make out trail in dark.”
It seemed a whole eternity till dawn, but at last it grew light and the Malay darted hither and thither in the vicinity. At last he announced to Captain Sparhawk that he thought he knew, from the direction the trail took, the place to which the prisoners had been conveyed.
“Me think they take um to old fort on river,” he declared.
“Then let us go there at once,” said Captain Sparhawk eagerly. “Is it far?”
“No velly far through jungle. But Salloo no know trail. Velly bad swamp in there and if no know trail get in tlubble plenty quick.”
“Then we can’t reach them,” said Billy with a groan.
“Salloo know other way,” was the reply, “we go round by ribber. Then climbee cliff, find fort at top.”
“Then let’s start at once,” said Captain Sparhawk. “I don’t want to lose a second of time.”
“No, begorry, those spalpeens may have taken them further on by the time we git there if we don’t put a good foot forward,” said Muldoon.
Salloo glanced up at the sky. A light, fleecy haze overspread it.
“Nuther reason we hully,” he said. “Salloo think big storm come to-mollow. Rain washee out the tlacks.”
They set off along a narrow track that Salloo said would bring them to the river, whose course they must follow to the deserted fort. The jungle contained every kind of tropical growth, and huge ferns as big as trees waved over the path. But the atmosphere was close and feverish, with a humid heat that was very tiring. At times they encountered vines which had grown across the trail and had to be cut. Some of these were thin and wiry and could cut like a knife; others were as thick as a man’s arm and bore brilliant, though poisonous-looking blossoms of every color.
“Bad traveling,” remarked Captain Sparhawk, “still I suppose we must expect that on a seldomly frequented trail.”
“Him get velly bad further on,” was all the comfort Salloo could offer, “but not velly far to ribber once we strike udder trail.”
Before long they came to the track he had referred to which branched off at right angles to the one along which they had been traveling.
Several miles were covered, however, when it became time to halt for lunch. They made a hasty meal of canned goods instead of stopping to light fires, as Salloo thought it would be inadvisable to advertise their whereabouts by smoke columns in case the “enemy” had scouts out. They had hardly resumed their wearisome journey when they were startled by hearing a cry from a distance. Salloo came to an instant halt.
“Keep out ob sight, all of you,” he said, “Salloo go see what makee noise.”
He glided off into the dense vegetation with the silent, undulatory movements of a snake.
“Begorry, I wonder what that critter was?” said Muldoon in a low voice.
“I don’t know. I only hope it wasn’t a band of natives who might prove unfriendly,” muttered Billy.
“Well, so far we have had more trouble with white men than with natives,” said Captain Sparhawk, a remark of which they all felt the truth.
“It might have been monkeys chattering,” suggested Raynor, after a pause, during which they all listened for some sign of Salloo.
“And spaking of the divil,” exclaimed Muldoon, “look, there’s a monkey looking at us now. See those two black oys back in the threes?”
He pointed with his forefinger and they all gazed in that direction. It was Billy who first discovered the nature of Muldoon’s monkey.
“That’s not a monkey. It’s a big snake! Look out for yourselves!” he yelled.
“A python!” cried Captain Sparhawk.
He started back and the others did the same. But Muldoon tripped over a bow and fell sprawling headlong. As he scrambled to his feet a serpent’s form appeared above him as it swung from a big tree. The next instant there was a cry of horror from them all.
The serpent had made a sudden lunge and a cry broke from Muldoon as, before he could make a move to help himself, he was enwrapped in the spiral folds of the great python.
Captain Sparhawk seized his revolver from his belt and leveled the weapon. But the next moment he lowered it. To have fired would have been to imperil Muldoon’s life, and there might still be a chance of saving him.
The monstrous reptile that had the unfortunate boatswain in its grip was large, even judged by the standards of the immense pythons of the New Guinea and Borneo forests. It must have been fully thirty-five feet long.
Billy could not endure the sight and put his hands in front of his eyes. When he removed them it was to behold a stirring sight.
From the jungle there had darted a lithe figure. It was Salloo. He had traced the source of the mysterious cries to a troop of monkeys. He was returning when Muldoon’s despairing cry broke on his ears.
The Malay, guessing that there was serious trouble, glided through the jungle at the best speed of which he was capable, making his way swiftly through thickets that a white man could not have passed at all. There is one weapon with which a Malay is always armed—his kriss, a razor-edged sword about two feet long, with a “wavy” outline. This kriss Salloo now drew from under his single garment.
One instant it flashed in the sunlight and the next, during which it was impossible to follow its movements, so swift were they, the python’s head was severed. But instantly, by a convulsive movement, its coils tightened and Muldoon emitted another pitiful cry. But, fortunately, the life of the snake had departed and soon its coils relaxed and its gaudily-colored body slipped in a heap to the ground.
They all sprang forward to Muldoon’s aid, for the man, powerful and rugged, was almost in a state of collapse as the result of his terrible experience. An examination by Captain Sparhawk soon showed that no bones had been broken, as they had at first feared, and after restoratives had been administered, and after a short rest, Muldoon announced that he was ready to march on again.
“That was a close shave, Muldoon,” remarked Raynor, as they pressed onward, after Muldoon had nearly wrung the hand off Salloo in expressing his thanks for the Malay’s courageous act, which had undoubtedly saved the boatswain’s life.
“Ouch! Don’t say a wurrud,” groaned the Irishman, “I thought I was a goner sure. Divil a bit more of snakes is it I want to see.”
That evening they reached the river, and leaving them camped, Salloo set off on a scouting expedition. It was a long time before he returned, but when he came in he brought good news. He had located the old fort and reported that the ruffians who had carried off Mr. Jukes and Jack were all there enjoying themselves round a big fire and apparently in no fear of an attack.
“Me see um white boy there, too,” he added. “Same boy hang round hotel at Bomobori all time.”
“Donald Judson!” exclaimed Billy. “How can that be possible? I can’t fit him into this at all.”
“Well, the question is, now that we have tracked the rascals, what’s the next move,” said Captain Sparhawk.
“Me think now good time attack,” counseled Salloo. “They no think anyone near. Give ’em heap big surprise.”
“Begorry, that’s well said, naygur,” approved Muldoon, “I’m aching to git a good crack at thim.”
After some consultation it was decided to make the attack at once. If they delayed they would have to wait till the next night in order to surprise Broom’s band and there was no telling what might happen during the twenty-four hours that would elapse.
Luckily, there was a moon, though it was somewhat obscured by the haze which Salloo had drawn attention to as presaging a storm. The party, piloted by Salloo, started off up the river, which was low, as the weather had been dry and there was plenty of room for them to pass between the bank and the water’s edge.
At last they arrived in sight of the cliff and Raynor’s heart gave a bound. At the top they could see the red glare of the camp fire, though they could not see any of the men.
“There’s one good thing, the ascent of the cliff will be easy,” said Billy, in a whisper, as he drew attention to the knotted and twisted vines that hung down it.
“Yes, we’ll need no scaling ladders,” rejoined Captain Sparhawk.
“No need for usum vines,” declared the Malay. “Salloo know a path to top.”
Telling them to remain where they were, the faithful fellow set off on another scouting expedition. His kriss glittered menacingly in the moonlight as he went on, trying to keep in the shadow of the cliff. Arrived at the path he knew of, he glided noiselessly up it, although it was a steep and tortuous one, and soon was at the top of the cliff. Through the gloom he made out a solitary figure sitting on a rock far removed from the campfire, about which the rest were gathered. The Malay guessed it was a sentry, although the fellow was not keeping a very careful watch and appeared to be half asleep.
“Me fixee you one minute,” grinned the Malay to himself.
He cast himself on his stomach in the long grass that grew on the cliff-top and began worming his way round the sentry so as to approach him from the rear. He scarcely made a sound as he moved with wonderful rapidity.
The sentry appeared to shake off his drowsiness suddenly and rose to his feet just as Salloo was within a few inches of him. But he left his rifle leaning against the rock on which he had been seated. Instantly Salloo leaped from the grass and the next instant the kriss was at the thunderstruck sentry’s throat.
“You no speak or me killee,” grated out the Malay, and one glance convinced the sentry that Salloo would carry out his threat.
Salloo stooped and picking up a small pebble cast it over the cliff. It fell almost at the feet of Captain Sparhawk and Billy, who were anxiously on the look-out for this signal, which had been prearranged.
“Forward,” ordered Captain Sparhawk, who was in the lead. Next came Billy, then Muldoon and last the natives, some of whom had spears, and others the peculiar blow-pipes used by the Papuans to shoot poisoned darts.
The advance was made in silence, and at the top of the cliff they found Salloo waiting for them. He was garmentless, having used his single cloak to tie up the sentry with. Grass stuffed in the man’s mouth had effectually gagged him.
“Good for you, Salloo,” said the captain approvingly, to which the native replied with a grin.
“Now we take him down below and find out some things from him,” said the Malay.
The helpless prisoner was bundled back down the trail and brought to the camp at the foot of the cliff. Here he was roped to a tree and the gag taken out of his mouth. But the sight of Salloo’s ever-ready kriss kept him from making any outcry.
Yes, he said, the old, fat man and the boy were all right. They had not been fed though, and wouldn’t be till a ransom was forthcoming.
This made the whites boil with indignation. Questioned as to how many were in the band, he said he did not know, and as he stuck to this it was thought best not to waste any more time questioning him.
After a consultation the gag was replaced, but the ropes were loosened so that with a little exertion the man could set himself free.
“If, for any reason, we couldn’t come back, and we left the ropes tight, he would perish,” said Captain Sparhawk, “and we want no human lives to our account.”
“Me leave him there starve to death plitty quick,” growled Salloo, with a scowl at the crestfallen prisoner.
At the foot of the cliff all was now dark and silent as the grave. The moon was obscured by a cloud and it was an ideal moment for the dash on the camp to begin.
“We go plenty slow or maybe take big tumble,” advised Salloo.
He was in advance but Billy was close at his heels. Cautiously they ascended, taking great care not to dislodge loose stones which might have been fatal to their plans. At last the stream was far below them and the summit of the cliff within reach.
It was at this moment that a torch flashed above them, glaring into their upturned faces.
“What’s all this, who are you?” a voice demanded.
“Silence if you value your life,” came from Captain Sparhawk.
“It’s Donald Judson!” exclaimed Billy.
“Billy Raynor,” cried the other in his turn. “How did you——?”
“Don’t utter another word,” ordered Captain Sparhawk. “Put your hands above your head, you young rascal.”
“Not much I won’t!” exclaimed Judson.
He flung his torch full in Billy’s face and then started at top speed for the camp fire, yelling the alarm at the top of his lungs.
For a minute Billy was in peril of losing his balance as the torch struck him. But Salloo caught and held him firmly. The torch dropped with a splash and hiss into the waters of the river below.
By this time Salloo scrambled to the cliff summit and made off after young Judson. Both reached the camp fire at about the same time. The others, following close on Salloo’s heels, saw Donald turn, catch sight of the glittering kriss, and then, with a yell of dismay, tumble headlong. He lay quite still and had apparently been stunned by the violence of the fall.
“Help! Help!” It was Jack’s voice from the fort and was instantly recognised by Billy.
But by this time the men about the fire, headed by ‘Bully’ Broom, were on their feet. There was no time for them to get their weapons, which had been left inside the fort so that they would not rust in the damp night air. The battle was a brief one, although some shots were fired, none of which, in the excitement, took effect.
Billy, by a clever ruse, brought the engagement to a speedy termination. In the midst of the fight he turned toward the cliff and then raising his voice as if summoning help, he shouted:
“This way, captain. Bring that company up here. Let the others guard the river.”
“Get out of here, boys,” roared Broom, completely taken in. “I’ll settle with you later on,” he cried, shaking his fist as he turned and followed the rout of his followers, who, imagining they were being pursued by great numbers, made off at top speed for the jungle, which soon swallowed them up.
“Thank Heaven that is over,” said Mr. Jukes, as he sat on an old bench in the fort after he and Jack had been released. “You may depend upon it that I shall not forget the part that Salloo and all of you played in our rescue.”
It was some two hours after the “battle,” if the rout of the rascals who had captured Mr. Jukes and Jack could be termed such. The kidnappers’ larder had been ransacked and a good meal enjoyed by all hands, especially, as may be imagined, by the two captives who had been without food for almost twenty-four hours.
Donald Judson, looking hang-dog and abject, was huddled on a bench in a corner of the room. He had been picked up after the fray, having shammed insensibility to avoid being injured, and was easily captured by the victors.
“You certainly came in the nick of time,” said Jack. “From what I could hear them saying, that scoundrel Broom was actually contemplating torturing us if that check was not signed by Mr. Jukes.”
The millionaire shuddered. His experiences had greatly affected him.
“That young ruffian over yonder,” he nodded his head toward Judson, “was the instigator of the idea to get money out of me, I believe,” he said. “He ought to be punished severely.”
“I didn’t,” whined Judson miserably, “I—I—that fellow Broom did it all.”
“What’s the use of your lying, Judson,” exclaimed Jack, “you met Broom at Bomobori. It’s as plain as day now, and furnished him with an account of as much of our plans as we had confided to you.”
“Well, maybe I did,” mumbled Judson sullenly, “but I didn’t put him up to getting money out of you.”
“Nonsense,” said Captain Sparhawk, “you are as bad as Broom is—worse, in fact, for you are a lad of decent upbringing.”
No more was said to Judson that night, and they retired to catch a few hours sleep, leaving the “carriers” under Salloo on guard. The Malay amused himself by making hideous faces at the unfortunate Donald and flourishing his kriss under his nose. By daylight the wretched prisoner was half dead from fear. Captain Sparhawk sternly warned Salloo not to tease him any more, at which the Malay appeared to be much surprised.
“Him enemy,” he said, “why no can do what like with him?”
Breakfast, of which Donald was given his share, was eaten in the fort, and after that meal the natives were sent down to the river to bring up all the supplies which had been left there. They reported that the prisoner Salloo had made had succeeded, as they intended he should, in loosening his bonds during the night and had vanished.
As soon as the boxes containing the wireless apparatus and the hand-generator arrived, Jack lost no time in setting them up and as soon as he raised the yacht sent a full account of Broom’s rascally conduct to her. The first officer at once left to notify the authorities and ask that a keen lookout be kept for Broom’s schooner.
“Broom will never guess that we have any means of communicating with Bomobori,” the boy explained, “and if he returns there, will bungle into a fine trap.”
“Begorry, I hope he does,” commented Muldoon, “shure that wireless is an illigant invintion entirely.”
“If Broom is captured, as many other criminals have been, by its aid, it will have proved its splendid usefulness once more,” declared Mr. Jukes. “Ready, you might flash another message saying that I will give $1,000 to anyone who captures ‘Bully’ Broom.”
After this had been done, the question arose of what to do with Donald Judson. They had no desire to have the young rascal as a traveling companion, but at the same time they did not see how they could very well turn him loose in the jungle in which he might starve to death. It was a problem that they were still discussing when Donald himself spoke up in the timid, fawning voice he affected when in trouble.
“See here,” he said, “if you won’t make trouble for me maybe I can help you out.”
“In what way?” sharply asked Mr. Jukes.
“Why I saw Broom put a map or something that looked like one in a cupboard in the room that door opens into,” said the boy, pointing to the end of the room. “I thought maybe it might have something to do with your brother, Mr. Jukes.”
“Come here at once and show me,” ordered the millionaire. “I don’t suppose it was anything of great importance,” he added.
“Perhaps not,” whimpered Donald, “but if it is will you let it count in my favor?”
“I shall consider that later,” said Mr. Jukes sternly, as they all followed the boy into the room he indicated. In one corner was a rough cupboard. Mr. Jukes opened this and took out a rolled-up paper. He spread it out on the table and they all pressed about him.
“It’s a map!” cried Billy.
“Yes, and of this part of the country, too,” cried Jack. “See, there’s that village, Taroo, where we stopped two nights ago.”
“And what’s this leading along the river from this place marked 'Fort’ on the map?” asked Mr. Judson, his eyes shining as his forefinger traced a red ink line that zig-zagged along till it left the river and struck inland to what appeared to be intended to show a range of mountains. “The Kini-Balu Mountains,” he read out.
“The Kini-Balu Mountains!” echoed Salloo, “me know them. Me bet your brother up there. One time ‘Bully’ Bloom he helpee Kini-Balu men fight big battle 'gainst Tariani tribe. Kini-Balus win and now heap like ‘Bully’ Bloom hide your brother up there.”
“It is possible,” mused the millionaire, “and—yes, by jove! Look here.”
Indicated on the map in red letters, at a spot in the heart of the Kini-Balu country, was a place marked “Cave.”
“Do you think it possible that that can be ‘Bully’ Broom’s hiding place for the other Mr. Jukes?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know, but it appears probable,” rejoined the millionaire.
“Me membel now sometime ‘Bully’ Bloom go way from Bomobori long time,” said Salloo, “nobody know where he go. That time when cruiser come look for him. Maybe he hide up there.”
“It seems worth trying at any rate,” said Mr. Jukes, in the manner of one who has reached a decision.
“It seems reasonable to suppose that if Broom had taken your brother and his men anywhere on the island it would have been to some such inaccessible spot as that,” said Captain Sparhawk.
“Well thin, what’s to privint us going up among the 'balloon’ men, or whativer they call thimsilves?” asked Muldoon.
“It may be attended by some danger,” said Mr. Jukes. “From what Salloo said the Kini-Balu men are a very war-like tribe. They might attack us. How about that, Salloo?”
The Malay’s reply was not one calculated to reassure them.
“Kini-Balu men head hunters,” he said, “Maybe they no hurt us. But maybe take our heads. Salloo no 'fraid, though.”
“Then, by golly, neither are we,” declared Muldoon.
After more discussion, it was decided to advance cautiously into the Kini-Balu country and then do some scouting to see how matters lay. If the natives were hostile, and if they were convinced that Mr. Jukes was really a captive among them, guarded by their warriors at ‘Bully’ Broom’s orders, then they would return to Bomobori without risking their lives and come back with a strong force. If everything appeared to be pacific, then they would seek out the place indicated on the map and settle the question of whether or no it was actually the place of the pearl hunter’s confinement.