HUE AND CRY
"Old fellow!" burst out Silver, clutching Jack by the arm; "you look as
if you'd seen a ghost! What in the world's all this rot? You don't mean
to say--"
"Mean to say!" cried Jack, suddenly coming to life. "Look here,
Silver--I'll tell you the truth. This letter's from a couple of
low-down crooks who've got hold of Billy some way or other, and if we
don't look out he'll be--"
"You mean he's been kidnapped?"
"Kidnapped--yes. Come along to our study, old chap, and we'll see what
we can think out. I tell you, it's an ugly hole, and I'm a good bit
scared!"
Silver followed Jack to Study No. 9, where Fane and Patch were already
ensconced. The ominous note from Lazare was passed around, and the four
sat down together to consider what would be their course of action.
Silver, of course, wanted to know a great many things all at once, but
he got, at least, an inkling of the ill-fated Black Star and what had
already happened during that memorable term.
"Well, comrades," said Patch, "we've just got to do something! I've
been thinking. First of all, we go to the Head, and make a confession
of everything we know. Then, we'll have to get Doctor Daw arrested--he
thinks we haven't got anything against him, but we know enough to get
him hooked for conspiracy! That should put him out of the road. Then--"
He paused and considered.
Jack remembered something. "Oh, I've got another stunt that may be of
use! You know that cave on Dog-face? I've always thought that that's
where Humbolt was hiding--and probably Lazare as well. Now, if that's
so, then we ought to find Billy there."
"Good for you, Jack!" cried Patch. "It should be worth trying, at any
rate. We could sneak over and hold the beggars up--nab them. That would
just settle things handsomely, but I don't know whether we'd be able--"
"Wouldn't we?" demanded Fane, fiercely. "If Billy's there, on Dog-face,
I don't see any reason why we shouldn't row over and get him back!"
"Humbolt's got a gun, and he might use it."
"No matter. There's Billy's pistol here, and we'd have everything
in our favour. We could creep in on the beggars late at night, when
they're asleep--!"
"Well, if boldness counts for anything, the scheme ought to be a good
one. But--"
"Another thing is, if we don't do that, what on earth are we going to
do? If Jack calmly hands over the Star, we've no guarantee that Billy's
going to be let go free again! With giddy criminals like Lazare and
that other fellow, goodness knows what might happen. Why, they might
even shut Billy's mouth by--well, throwing him into the bay--anything.
"If we try to nab the chap when he meets Jack, he'd probably smell a
rat, and do what he says! Or put a bullet into Jack--I wouldn't trust
the beggars a foot, and that's a fact! The only way is to hop into them
when they're not looking; and the trip to Dog-face looks good to me."
Patch considered, rubbing his chin with his forefinger. He took off his
spectacles and polished them.
Then, "It's a risk," he said. "But, now you put it that way, I reckon
we can't do anything else! If we collar Billy and get away with him,
then the other fellows could wait till afterwards, see? The police
could be put on their track, and, depend upon it, they'd be grabbed
sooner or later. But once we've got Billy safe, we can tell them to go
and eat coke!"
"Of course we could; we'd have the whip hand over them. My opinion
is--make the trip to Dog-face now--or very soon--and tell the Head
nothing about it."
"Why not?"
"Well, simply because, if we tell the Head, he won't let us go."
Patch seemed to ponder this statement for a minute. "Yes," he said
at last, "that's true enough. The Head would forbid it, and get some
blundering bobby to take the job on. Look here--who will go?"
"The lot of us," said Jack decisively. "I suppose Silver's on, aren't
you?"
"Sure thing," said Silver quietly. "We can get a skiff out of the
sheds. I have the key--and sneak out along the edge of the bay. It
wouldn't do if we were to strike out boldly for Dog-face! We'd be
spotted pretty quickly. But what are our plans?"
"We'll see, comrade. First of all, we'll have to reconnoitre. Then
we'll make sure of our attack. I've got an idea--we won't go until
about two o'clock in the morning. If they've got a watch out at that
time, then all I can say is, they're pretty cautious!"
And so, finally, it was arranged. The conspirators went to bed early
that night--and they awoke early the next morning. At five minutes past
one, to be precise, the little band of four cautiously left the school
grounds and presently came to the river, where they launched a skiff
on the softly-lapping water.
It was an adventure that was as wine to the spirit of Jack Symonds and
his pals. They were strung to a high pitch of keenness, by the thought
of Billy Faraday and what was happening to him; and if there was a
trace of nervousness, the darkness of the night and the danger of the
venture might have excused it.
Out they rowed into the bay, hugging the shore closely, as they turned
in the direction of Dog-face. The skiff crept along almost without
sound; there was the ruffle of parted waters, and the subdued grumbling
of the oars in the row-locks. Despite this, they made progress; and
soon the black bulk of Dog-face lay blotted against the stars.
"Softly now," said Jack Symonds. "Quit rowing--we'll drift there. The
tide is just right, fortunately. Easy."
In breathless silence the skiff drifted down on Dog-face. There was
much starlight, and there was no knowing whether they were being
observed or not. At any moment there might ring out a challenge, or
perhaps they might be fired upon, and no questions asked. It was a
nerve-testing time.
Finally, the keel grated on shingle; the slight sound was swallowed up
in the wash of tiny waves on Dog-face. Patch leapt out, and after a
minute or so of whispering it was decided to leave Silver in the boat,
ready to push her out and pull for the College. The boat was backed
into the beach again so that her stern rested lightly on the shingle;
Silver, paddling softly, kept her nose pointed away from the shore.
Then, the three others stole quietly away. Nothing was left to chance;
they took ten minutes to approach the entrance to the cave, using the
utmost caution, striving to make only the most infinitesimal sounds.
At the mouth they listened for a long, long time; but they could hear
nothing.
"We'll just have to chance it," Patch whispered in Jack's ear. "We'll
have to go right in. You've got the pistol--let me take the torch and
go first. You be ready to let fly if anything happens." Fane gripping a
cricket-stump in the manner of a club, brought up the rear.
It needed a fine nerve to enter that noisome cave, at dead of night,
and not knowing what dangers attended the act. But the three pals did
not hesitate at all. They slipped inside; all was perfectly quiet.
It suddenly occurred to Patch that perhaps they had been wrong from
the outset--perhaps their whole supposition was at fault. That would
account for the silence--there was nobody here.
"Soon settle that," he murmured. "Ready, Jack?"
"You bet." Jack's voice came back in an unfaltering whisper. He gripped
the revolver tightly; he could not deny that it lent him confidence.
Patch pressed over the switch of the electric torch, and swept the cave
with light. The place was bare of any occupant. Only, in one corner,
what looked like a bundle of rags lay humped up; and Patch tiptoed
across.
"Billy!" he said softly. And it was indeed Billy himself. They shook
him by the shoulder, heartily glad that he was alive and soon to be at
liberty.
He opened his eyes, and stared for a moment without comprehension.
Then, "You chaps!" he said. "This is great! I never thought--here, cut
off these things."
They snicked the cords that bound, and he stood up, rubbing his cramped
limbs, and shaking them all by the hand.
"Jingo, but you're dinkum pals," he said. "I thought they had us
beaten, but--"
"Who is it?" asked Patch. "Lazare and Humbolt?"
Billy nodded. "Yes, the brutes! They tried torturing me, and they got
the information they wanted--I said that Jack had the Star. I had
to--they made me."
Billy smiled a wry sort of smile. "They've got a little motor-launch,
too, and I suppose they thought I was safe enough here. But they may
be back at any moment. We'd better clear."
"True for you," said Jack; and the four of them got out of the cave
into the faint starlight. "Phew! I can't say that the merry old cave is
exactly--"
There was a sudden blaze of light, and he stopped short.
"You will put your hands up, and drop that gun," said a strange voice.
"Look sharp!"
Under the menace of a heavy revolver Jack had to drop his own weapon.
He almost groaned with despair. Just at the moment of their triumph,
Humbolt had returned, and, what was worse, he had already got the upper
hand.
Helpless, the little quartette of schoolboys faced the grinning Tiger,
who was clearly enjoying his victory to the full.
"Thought you were clever, eh?" asked Tiger, in a sneering voice.
"You're a lot of fools, that's all, and you've put your foot in it this
time, let me tell you." He turned to Billy. "Well, my young spark, is
the chap that hid the Star among this lot?"
"He is," returned Jack quietly. "Look here, my good fellow, we're sick
and tired of hanging on to the rotten old Star. You've got us beaten
now, haven't you? If I promise to bring the Star right back with me,
you won't harm me or my friends here?"
"No," said Tiger, shortly. "Provided you stick to your part of the
bargain."
Jack was very much at his ease by now, but he was thinking with
lightning rapidity, and trying to remember something that the old
gentleman had told him on the night of the boxing in Windsor about this
very Humbolt. Ah, he had it!
"Yes," he pursued, shivering, "this place gives me the creeps, and I
wish we'd never had anything to do with the Star. Why, we nearly got
bitten by a snake coming up here--"
"What!" said Humbolt, sharply.
"Yes, a great big black snake, and it ran into that crack you're
standing on now. A whopper, it was--"
Jack had staked everything on that throw. He had remembered in time
what he had been told about "Jim Camp's peculiar horror of snakes," and
desperately he brought the subject into the conversation.
It was amazingly successful. At the first mention of snakes, Humbolt
had looked distinctly uneasy. But when Jack added that the reptile had
sought refuge in the ground at his feet, the outwitted man could not
resist a long, searching glance at the fissure referred to.
It was his undoing. Jack Symonds was ready; and, like some splendid
machine, touched off in an instant, he sprang through the air and
crashed heavily upon Humbolt.
Taken by surprise, Tiger's grip upon his weapon naturally relaxed, and
the impact sent it flying a dozen feet away. But he was too strong,
too solid, to go to the earth. He stood and wrestled furiously. Jack
grabbed the man's arms and tried to prevent him from getting in a blow,
for he had seen the effect of Humbolt's hitting, and had no desire to
be hit himself.
The man was very strong, a very pocket Hercules. And Jack, athletic as
he was, felt himself gradually being overmastered. The thick, short
arms struggled in his hold; one got free, and Jack felt it drawn back,
and waited, heart in mouth, for the sickening thump--but it never came.
Instead, Humbolt staggered, gave a groan, and Jack saw that he was
falling. Hastily he glanced up and saw Fane surveying his cricket-stump
ruefully.
"I'm sorry I hit from behind," the latter said, "but the beggar was out
to spifflicate you. I banged him on the head."
"Good man--don't apologize," said Jack, with immense cheerfulness.
"Come on--cut!"
Even as Jack jumped away, Humbolt, dazed as he was, made a blind grab
at his legs. The man's tenacity was admirable; he was possessed of the
instincts of a bulldog-ant. And, seeing his late captives, escaping,
he roared out at the full pitch of his lungs.
"Lazare! Quick! Help! Lazare!"
So Lazare was somewhere handy, then! Or was it only a bluff? Bluff or
not, they raced madly for the skiff, calling out to Silver as they ran;
and after a brief, rocky journey, came upon the shingle-beach and the
boat.
Everything worked with silken smoothness. The four boys packed into the
boat, taking an oar each, while Patch made ready to steer.
"Six good ones," said Silver; and Jack, with the best oar in Deepwater
College beside him, was strangely thrilled. He put lots of weight and
pull into those six strokes, and the skiff shot out from under the
black shadow of Dog-face across the smooth, tinkling water. A breath of
sea-breeze fanned their faces.
"We've done them!" said Jack, delightedly. "After all--and I thought
we'd regularly slipped when Humbolt caught us!"
"Don't be so sure," said Patch. "Listen."
"What?"
The next moment his question was answered. There came the muffled
pop-pop-popping of a motor-boat exhaust, and a white speck suddenly
shot into view, around one of the capes of Dog-face Island!