THE PLOT SUCCEEDS.
Tom's map having been duly examined and approved, and Bob's letter read
and commented upon, the latter folded them both up together and placed
them in an envelope, which he sealed with a vigorous blow of his fist.
"I suppose it ought to have a stamp on it, in order to make it look
ship-shape," said he, "but I haven't got two cents to waste in addition
to the time and exhausting mental effort I have spent upon the
production of this interesting and important communication. I ought to
put a hint of its contents upon the envelope, I should think."
"By all means," answered Tom. "Print anything that occurs to you,
so long as it will excite his curiosity and impel him to a further
examination. How does this strike you: 'Notis to the lucky person
in to whose han's this dockyment may hapen to fall.' That sounds all
right, doesn't it? Well, put it down, and then add something about the
'hant' that watches over the cave."
For a few minutes Bob's pen moved rapidly, and at last he drew a long
breath of relief and slammed the blotting-paper over what he had
written.
"It's done, I'm glad to say, and the next time we find it necessary
to communicate with Mr. Morgan, or with any other gentleman who has
not gone deep enough into the arcana of letters to be able to read
good, honest writing, we'll hire a cheap boy to do the printing for
us. Now, what shall we take besides our lunch? I don't want to carry
my breech-loader up to the top of the mountains for nothing. I know
it weighs only seven and a quarter pounds, but I'll think it weighs a
hundred before I get back."
"If you will sling your pocket-rifle case over your shoulder, I'll take
my little tackle-box, and then we shall be fully equipped," replied
Tom. "We'll be sure to get a young squirrel or two while we are going
by the corn-field, and I know a stream in which there are still a few
trout to be found."
Acting upon his friend's advice, Bob put the letter into his pocket,
and picked up the neat leather case in which his little rifle reposed,
while Tom seized his tackle-box and led the way to the kitchen.
A few minutes later they left the house, with a substantial lunch
stowed away in a fish-basket which Tom carried under his arm, and bent
their steps toward Silas Morgan's wood-pile, where they arrived after
an hour's fatiguing walk up the mountain.
The first thing in order was a reconnaissance in force, followed by a
careful inspection of the ground, both of which satisfied them that
they had reached the spot in ample time to carry out all the details of
their scheme. The wheel-marks in the ground were not fresh, and neither
were the footprints, and this proved that the ferryman had not yet been
up after his daily load of wood.
"He is later than usual," said Bob. "I hope nothing has happened to
keep him away, for I wouldn't miss being around when he gets the
letter for anything. It will be as good as a circus."
"There he comes now!" exclaimed Tom, as a series of dismal wails arose
from the valley below. "Don't you hear the creaking of his wagon? Shove
the letter into the end of this stick, and then we'll dig out for the
place where we ate lunch yesterday. We can hear and see everything from
there."
Bob hastily complied with his friend's suggestion, inserting the letter
into a crack in a protruding stick in so conspicuous a position that
Silas would be sure to see it, if he made any use whatever of his eyes,
and then the two boys betook themselves to their hiding-place behind
the evergreens.
In due time the ferryman came in sight. He was clinging with both hands
to the hind end of the wagon, and if he had let go his hold he would,
beyond a doubt, have rolled clear back to the bottom of the hill, not
being possessed of sufficient life and energy to stop himself.
Whenever the horse halted for a short rest, which he did as often
as the idea occurred to him, Silas raised no objections, but leaned
heavily upon the wood-rack and rested, too, talking earnestly to
himself all the while.
He was so long in reaching the wood-pile that the boys became very
impatient; but when he got there and found the letter, the fright and
excitement he exhibited, and the extraordinary contortions he went
through, amply repaid them for their long waiting.
Bob's prediction, that "it would be as good as a circus," was
abundantly verified. They observed every move he made, and heard
every word he said. They were especially delighted to see him climb
the wood-pile, and reach over and take possession of the letter; and
when he snatched up the knotted reins and fell upon the horse with
his hickory, because the animal would not move in obedience to his
whispered commands, Bob caught Tom around the neck with both arms, and
the two rolled on the ground convulsed with merriment.
When they recovered themselves sufficiently to get up and look through
the evergreens again, they saw Silas disappearing around the first
turn in the road; but he was in sight long enough for them to take note
of the fact that he was stepping out at a much livelier rate than they
had seen him accomplish for many a day. When the trees hid him from
view, Tom and Bob sat down on the ground and looked at each other.
"Well," said the former, wiping the tears from his eyes, "so far so
good. Now, what comes next?"
"Nothing more of this sort to-day; at least I hope not," answered Bob.
"I couldn't stand another such a laughing spell right away, unless I
could give full vent to my feelings. I thought I should split when I
heard Silas say that he didn't know whether or not he could get his
consent to touch that letter."
Silas being safely out of hearing by this time, there was no longer any
reason why Bob should restrain his risibilities, and he gave way to a
hearty peal of laughter, in which Tom joined with much gusto.
"It was when he went through his antics on top of the wood-pile that I
came the nearest losing control of myself," said the latter, as soon
as he could speak. "I didn't suppose that there was so much ignorance
and superstition in this whole country as that man has given us proof
of this day."
And neither did Tom imagine that while he and Bob were writing that
letter, "just for the fun of the thing," they were setting in motion a
series of events which were destined to create the greatest excitement
far and near, and to come within a hair's-breadth of ending in
something very like a tragedy.
It was a long time before the boys had their laugh out. Tom, who was an
incomparable mimic, went through the whole performance again, for his
own delectation as well as for Bob's benefit, reaching for invisible
letters, and climbing imaginary wood-piles, and so perfectly did he
imitate the ferryman's actions, and even the tones of his voice, that
Bob at last jumped to his feet, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and
hastened away, declaring that he could not stand it any longer.
The first thing the two friends did, after they became sobered down
so that they could do anything, was to retrace their steps to the
corn-field, where they hoped to secure an acceptable addition to the
lunch that was in Tom's creel.
Nor were they disappointed; the game they sought was out in full
force; Bob's diminutive rifle spoke twice in quick succession, and two
young squirrels, after being neatly dressed and wrapped in buttered
tissue-paper, were placed in the basket with the lunch.
Then the boys went in quest of the trout stream of which Tom had
spoken. When Bob got down to it, and saw what a place it was in, he did
not wonder that there were still a few fish to be found in it. On the
contrary, he wondered if there had ever been any taken out of it. He
had never seen an angler, no matter how enthusiastic and long-winded he
might be, who would willingly stumble through five miles of trackless
woods, climb over as many miles of tangled wind-fall, and scramble
down the almost perpendicular side of that deep gorge, for the sake of
catching a few trout, and he did not hesitate to tell Tom so.
"Wait till you see the beauty I am going to snatch out from under that
log in less than a minute after I drop in my hook," said the latter,
who carried his open knife in his hand, and was looking about among the
bushes for a pole to take the place of the split bamboo he had left at
home. "But you needn't grumble, young man. You may see the day when
you will be willing to tramp farther than this to have the pleasure of
depositing a single trout in your creel."
"When things get as bad as that I won't go trout-fishing," said Bob,
in reply. "I'll take it out on black bass in the lake. Besides, these
trout are not at all high-toned. They don't know enough to take a fly,
and there's no fun in fishing with any other bait."
"We're not looking for fun now; we're after our dinner," answered
Tom, who, having found a pole to suit him, was kicking the bark off
a decayed log in search of a grub to put on his hook. "Would it
inconvenience you to stir around and get a fire going? You might as
well have your scales ready, too; there's a trout under that log that
weighs about-- There he is!"
Sure enough, there he was.
While Tom was speaking he dropped his hook into the water, and before
the white grub on it had sunk out of sight, it was seized by a monster
trout, which turned and started for the bottom with it, only to find
himself yanked unceremoniously out of his native element, and by a
dexterous movement of his captor's wrist, landed at Bob's feet on the
opposite bank.
"I haven't elbow-room for any display of science in handling fish,"
said Tom, as his companion unhooked the prize and quieted his struggles
by a blow on the head with the handle of his heavy knife. "Main
strength and awkwardness are what do the business in these tangled
thickets. What do the scales say in regard to his weight?"
"A pound and nine ounces," replied Bob. "Now suppose you hand over that
pole and see if I can catch one to match him."
Tom, who was quite willing to comply, jumped across the brook and set
to work to kindle a fire and get the dinner going, while Bob took the
rod and threaded his way through the thick bushes toward another
promising hole which his friend told him of, farther up the stream.
He was not gone more than twenty minutes, and when he came back he
brought with him three trout, one of which was larger and heavier than
Tom's.
Bob could easily have taken more but did not do it, because he knew
that he and Tom could not dispose of them. He knew, too, that they
would be a drug in the home market, Uncle Hallet having often declared
that he had eaten so many trout since Bob came to his house that it was
all he could do to keep from jumping into every puddle of water he saw.
The boys were adepts at forest cookery, and hungry enough to do full
justice to their dinner.
When the meal was over, the only dish they had to wash was the small
tin basin in which their tea was made, the squirrels and trout having
been broiled over the coals on three-pronged sticks cut from the
neighboring bushes.
After an hour's rest they put out the fire by drenching it with water,
which they dipped from the brook with their drinking-cups.
Bob often paused in his work to look up at the high bank above, which
was so steep that the top seemed to hang over the bed of the stream,
and finally he declared that it would take so much of his breath and
strength to get up there that he wouldn't have any left to carry him
over the five miles of wind-fall that lay between the gorge and Silas
Morgan's wood-pile.
"Well, then, we'll follow the brook," said Tom. "It will take us to
the lake, if we stick to it long enough, or we can turn out of the
gorge when we reach the place where our robber's cave is supposed to be
located. What kind of traveling we shall find I don't know, for I have
never been down this gulf; but I do know that we shall have farther to
walk than if we go back the way we came."
Bob at once declared his preference for the "water route," reminding
his companion that the longest way around is often the shortest way
home.
He felt relieved after that, for he dreaded the almost impassable
wind-fall over which his tireless friend had led him a few hours
before; but whether or not it was worse than some things that happened
as the result of his decision, and which he was destined to encounter
before the winter was over remains to be seen.