A NEST OF PIRATES
To those who have read the books of this series already published the
boys of the _Rambler_ will need no introduction. Their adventures on the
Amazon, the Columbia, the Colorado, the Mississippi, the St Lawrence,
the Ohio, and the Yukon will be readily recalled to mind.
Coming originally from the south branch of the Chicago river, they had
accumulated handsome fortunes during their journeys in quest of
adventure, but they still saw the world through boys' eyes, and were not
satisfied to settle down to a humdrum life.
The _Rambler_, as will doubtless be remembered, was a very speedy boat,
fitted up with electric lights and all modern conveniences. She carried
an armor of chilled steel underneath as pretty a coat of paint as was
ever sent out of the port of Chicago.
This trip down the Rio Grande had long been planned, and now that it was
actually begun the lads were jubilant. They had been warned time and
again against the uprisings for which Mexico is noted, but, boy-like,
they had disregarded them.
The _Rambler_ had been shipped to Wason on the Denver & Rio Grande, and
the journey was on! This town lies some distance east from Silverton,
and is surrounded on the north, west and south by the mountains which
form a part of the great continental divide.
As Alex and Case stood now, on the bank of the Rio Grande, their hearts
were very heavy.
"If we only knew that Clay and Jule were safe," Alex finally said, "we
could endure the loss of the _Rambler_. Where do you think they have
gone. Mister Teddy Bear, Junior?" he added whimsically, addressing the
cub. "I'll bet you'd tell me if you could!"
But the cub nestled closer to the neck of the boy and not being in a
conversational mood said nothing at all!
"We may as well return to where the injured boy was left," Case
suggested in a moment. "The boys will know where to find us, at least,
if we go there, which is more than can be said of any other locality.
Just our rotten luck to have Captain Joe find that boy when we haven't
got a thing to give him that might add to his comfort!"
"Kick!" laughed Alex. "You'd kick on a mouthful of pie! Say, how would a
piece of apple pie go right about now? I'm hungry enough to eat one of
those pirates, boots and all!"
"You are likely to be a great deal hungrier before you come upon
anything to eat in this rotten hole!" grumbled Case, setting off for the
designated spot at a fast walk.
Alex, however, remained behind, in the hope of catching a glimpse of the
lights of the _Rambler_. It was very dark outside the small circle of
light thrown out by the searchlight, and the wind was blowing great
guns. It was as wild a night as ever blew over the Colorado hills.
As if to heighten the discomfort of the time, a cold rain began to fall
in great gusts, sweeping everything movable before it. Alex was soon wet
to the skin.
"How's this for a storm, Mister Teddy Bear, Junior? said the boy,
addressing the cub. "There's one thing been overlooked, though," he
added, "and that's a little thunder and lightning. There certainly ought
to be a batch of thunder and lightning with a peach of a storm like
this, don't you think, Teddy?"
But Teddy did not have an opportunity to express his thoughts on the
subject, if he had any, for just at that instant there came a blinding
flash of lightning, followed immediately by a peal of thunder which
seemed to shake the solid earth.
"Whew, but that was a corker!" cried the boy. "Wonder if I'm all here?"
But Alex had no time to consider this last conundrum, for just at that
minute the lights of the _Rambler_ made their appearance, coming up the
stream. Alex had no means of knowing, of course, whether she was manned
by friend or foe, so he switched off his electric and stood on the bank
waiting in the wind and rain.
Directly the motor boat came to a halt at the side of a little rocky
projection which extended into the stream for some distance, and the boy
was no longer in doubt as to the character of the crew.
A frowsy head appeared above the rail of the boat and a hoarse voice
demanded:
"Who's there?"
It was clear that the _Rambler_ was in the possession of the pirates!
Alex stood mute, awaiting developments.
Presently the low murmur of voices was heard, seeming to come from the
shore, and Alex listened eagerly, but could not distinguish the voices.
At times he was almost certain that the speakers were Clay and Jule, but
the wind carried their voices downstream, and he could not be certain.
He listened intently, listening at the same time, too, for the sound of
advancing footsteps.
But the rush of the wind, the downpour of the rain effectually drowned
all other sounds save at rare intervals. The frowsy head, evidently
gaining courage, now spoke again.
"Whoever you are, come aboard!" the voice said.
There came a lull in the storm, and Alex was positive that the voices he
heard were those of Clay and Jule; still he could not afford to make a
mistake. So he waited.
The man on the deck of the _Rambler_ either left his position or got out
of sight behind the railing, for he was no longer to be seen. For a time
all was still, then a voice which appeared to come from the _Rambler_
rang out, causing Alex to almost drop the baby bear in his excitement.
He knew that voice!
During the long winter evenings in Chicago Jule had made a study of
ventriloquism, and had become such an adept that his voice could be
heard for a long distance. Although standing within ten feet of Alex,
the voice apparently came from the _Rambler_'s deck.
"What are you doing on my boat?" the voice demanded.
There was a great bustle aboard the motor boat, as if search was being
made for the speaker, followed by a fluttering of wings and a hoarse,
croaking voice:
"What's coming off here?" were the words spoken.
"That's Tommy!" said a voice at Alex's side, and Clay made his
appearance in the faint light thrown from the cabin windows.
"Where have you been?" demanded Alex, speaking in a voice loud enough to
be heard above the rush of the storm. "Thought sure you had been carried
off by the robbers."
"The pirates already had possession of the boat when I reached the
shore," Jule explained, "and when Clay came we both followed on down the
river in the hope that something would happen to again put us in
possession. Say! Just listen to Tommy's conversation! He thinks he is
the whole works! He has a horror of being awakened suddenly."
"Tommy" was a great red and green parrot, who had evidently been sound
asleep during the short trip down the river. He was making up for lost
time now, however, making the boat ring with his screams.
Presently a man's form shot out of the cabin as if fired out of a gun,
with the parrot astride of his shoulders! The red and green feathers of
the bird shone and glistened under the electric light, the long tail
trailed out behind like the tail of a comet, while the topknot was very
much in evidence, standing up straight and rigid.
The man thus attacked gave utterance to a string of oaths and
billingsgate which would have made a fishwife green with envy.
"The bloomin' bird is clawin' me eyes out!" he shouted, doing his best
to dislodge the bird. "Take 'im off, someone!"
By this time two other men were on deck, struggling with Tommy, who did
not seem at all inclined to release the excellent hold which he secured
in the hair of the robber. At last, however, he was dislodged, and
secreted himself behind a chest of drawers in the cabin.
"I'll 'ave 'is bloody life!" shouted the fellow, starting away in
pursuit, but a chum blocked his entrance to the cabin.
"Have it out with the bird some other time," he advised, with a broad
smile. "Just now we have other fish to fry. We came back to get a kid
what can operate this boat. There's something wrong with the motors. We
got it up the river as far as this, and that's about all, consarn the
luck!"
"Try him again with your Peter Pratt," advised Clay, having reference to
the boy's trick of throwing his voice. Whenever this faculty was
referred to by any of the lads it was invariably known as "Peter Pratt."
"Let's see what Peter Pratt can do for us in the way of getting
possession of the _Rambler_."
Jule threw his voice across the rushing, water again, but no attention
whatever was paid to it.
"That's strange!" said Alex.
"They evidently believe it to be the parrot!" said Jule.
"Of course you are right," admitted Clay. "It is a wonder we didn't
think of that before."
The robbers now appeared to be holding a consultation as to the best
means of getting one of the boys on board the _Rambler_. The boys could
not catch a word, although the _Rambler_ lay only a few feet from the
shore.
The thunder and lightning were now almost continuous, and the robbers
sought shelter in the cabin.
"Now's our opportunity," exclaimed Jule.
"I must be pretty dense," said Clay. "If there's a chance here I must
have overlooked it."
"What's the matter with the stern deck?" ventured Jule. "I've known kids
to get on board boats in that way before now!"
"Not in the face of a current like that!" replied Clay. "A boy couldn't
swim in that millrace any more than he could fly!"
"You just wait a second and I'll show you!" replied Jule. "Anybody got a
rope or a strong cord?"
"Alex has," responded Clay. "I saw him put one into his pocket! Produce
it, Alex!" he added, all excitement at the prospect of getting the best
of the pirates.
"Who's going to make the attempt?" Jule asked.
Alex deposited the baby bear in Clay's arms.
"Here," he said, "you take charge of Teddy, Jr., and I'll do the trick
myself. You fellows couldn't make the riffle in a thousand years! This
is a man's job!"
As Alex had kept the cub in a measure protected from the storm by his
coat, and as the cub had remained perfectly quiet during this
conversation, Clay was greatly surprised at being presented with a baby
bear. He made a quick examination of his charge and then burst into a
hearty laugh. Alex proceeded to unwind his fish line as if the
presentation of a cub was the most natural thing in the world.
Jule stepped to Clay's side and gravely shook hands with the bear after
locating him in the darkness.
"Where did you get the cub?" he asked.
"Oh, I presume he picked it off a bush!" Clay cut in. "Alex has an
affinity for bears."
"He's making too much noise," Jule asserted, as the cub set up a wail
which might have been heard on the _Rambler_. "Better let me take that
line, Alex, while you teach your baby manners."
"Mind the nerve of him! Talking about a man's job!" laughed Clay. "If I
had his good opinion of himself, I'd walk on the water out to the
_Rambler_." "Yes, you would!" commented Alex, throwing off his outer
garments preparatory to entering the river. "If you don't take good care
of that cub, I'll set him on you when you come aboard."
The boys now carried the fish line up the stream a short distance and
Alex entered the water. In order to gain the stem deck it would be
necessary to follow the motions of the swimmer until the stem was
reached and then release the line, trusting to the dexterity of the boy
in the water to make connection with the hull of the boat.
"Now, boys!" cried Alex, and the next he was feeling the draw of the
current.
The moment the lad was in the water the bulldog sprang in after him.
Jule tried in vain to coax him to return to the shore, but Captain Joe
was obstinate and paid no attention to the entreaties and threats of the
boy. The dog soon was abreast of the boy, swimming with his head well
down in the water.
In the meantime Jule was having about all he could do following Alex
with his eyes, for the light from the cabin windows was uncertain and
the great prow light had been extinguished.
"It's a wonder that Tommy keeps so quiet," said Clay, holding to the
bear cub with one hand and pulling at the line with the other. "He is
usually very much in evidence if awakened in the night."
"Here's hoping he has the good sense to remain quiet until Alex is on
board," added Jule. "The parrot may have been killed, for all we know!
If he has, there'll be doings when we get aboard!"
By this time the lights of the cabin were about opposite, and the boys
on shore slackened their pace in order to give Alex an opportunity to
gain the stem deck, which was, of course, downstream.
They saw very dimly indeed, for the rain was now falling in great
sheets, obscuring the light from the cabin windows, and making the stem
deck very slippery.
"Can you see where he is?" asked Clay.
"I can see that the line has slackened, and that is about all," replied
the boy. "I wonder where Captain Joe is?" Jule added, tossing the fish
line to one side. "He ought to be getting into action pretty soon. There
he is now!"
The voice of the dog came faintly through the storm, and the screaming
of the parrot added to the din.
"I'd give a hundred dollars to know exactly how things stand!" shouted
Clay, dancing up and down in the excitement of the moment.
"That was a fool venture of Alex's," was Jule's comment.