THE ESCAPE.
Dick heard a cry and caught a glimpse of the figure which dropped back
behind the bushes. Shouting to his companions, he whirled to the
roadside and knelt over Lynch, whom he found stretched unconscious upon
the ground.
When Mike revived he found them working over him, and the boy he had so
bitterly hated, the boy he had fancied dead, was one of them.
“Take him away! take him away!” cried Lynch, struggling weakly and
staring at Dick with unutterable horror. “He’s dead! Don’t let him touch
me!”
“He means you, partner,” said Buckhart. “I sure reckon he’s some
disturbed to see you alive and kicking.”
“He’s dead!” groaned Mike. “I killed him, but I didn’t mean to do it. I
wanted to run him down and let him swim for it. That’s all. I didn’t
think he would drown, but I killed him, and I’m a murderer! There, I’ve
confessed it now! You all hear me—I’ve confessed it! I killed him! Hang
me! I suppose they will. Don’t let him look at me like that. Take him
away—please take him away! Don’t look at me, Merriwell! I can’t bear
those eyes. I felt you following at my heels last night. I saw you when
you appeared to us at Fred’s. Even after I locked myself in my own room
I knew you were near. I couldn’t stand it long. It was too much for me.
You’ve forced me to confess at last. You’ve made me put my neck in a
noose. Now you should be satisfied.”
In vain they had tried to check his panting flow of words, but now Dick
managed to make his voice heard, speaking quietly and soothingly.
“I’m no ghost, Lynch. I’m here in the flesh. You didn’t drown me. I’m
glad to know that you didn’t really try to drown me. I couldn’t think
that of you, revengeful as I know you to be. Look here, touch my hand
and satisfy yourself that I’m living.”
But when he held out his hand to Lynch the fellow writhed and squirmed
and rolled away, shrieking with fear until his lips were covered with
froth.
“Great horn spoon!” muttered the Texan. “That gent is pretty near daffy,
partner. Never expected to see him go to pieces like that.”
“Keep him away from me!” shrieked Mike. “Don’t let him touch me! Let me
go! Help me to my feet!”
It was with the utmost difficulty that they prevented him from rising
and taking flight. Indeed he did get upon his feet and stagger out to
the road, fighting them all off as they sought to assist him.
A farm wagon, bound for town, came along, drawn by two scraggy horses.
On the seat sat a bewhiskered old fellow who regarded the boys with no
small curiosity.
“Hey!” he called, pulling up the horses. “What’s the matter with that
fellow, anyhaow? Goshfry mighty, he acts as if he was purty nigh crazy!
Guess he must have been hittin’ up somebody’s hard cider, hey?
Jerusalem! but they do git an awful jag when they fill up on cider. I
know haow it is, for I’ve been there myself. The gosh-derned stuff makes
ye act like all thutteration. What’s he sayin’ a-yappin’ about spooks
and dead folks and things like that? By gum! I guess you fellers better
take keer of him. Be you his friends? Waal, you better git him to a
doctor jest as soon as you ken. Put him in my waggin? ’Course you ken.
Jest ketch right holt and h’ist him aboard. Couple of ye better come
along with him to keep him quiet. I’ll only charge ye twenty-five cents
apiece to take you clean into the city, and that’s cheap enough, by
gum!”
So Lynch was tossed aboard the old farm wagon, and two of the boys
clambered in after him. Not until the strip of woods was left far behind
did Mike quiet down and become amenable to reason. Even then when they
attempted to explain he grew violent and shriekingly forbade them to
mention Merriwell’s name.
Brad Buckhart remained with Dick and the others who decided to complete
the morning run ere retracing their steps.
“Partner,” said the Texan, as they were again jogging along the road, “I
sure reckon you have accomplished your object with that gent. He’s just
about as near bughouse as any galoot I ever saw.”
“Yes,” agreed Dick, “I think he has been properly punished. I’m willing
to let up on him now, and I hope he comes out without going clean
daffy.”
* * * * *
A moment before the sharp prow of the steam launch struck Buckhart’s
_Sallie_, Dick realized the collision could not be averted, rose to his
feet, and made a headlong dive into the water. His action was not seen
by Buckhart, whose eyes were fastened on the launch.
Understanding the danger of being hit by the whirling propeller of the
launch, Merriwell dove as deep as possible. With powerful strokes he
swam some distance beneath the water. When compelled to rise to the
surface, he turned his head and found that the launch had passed over
him and was some distance away.
He wondered what had become of Brad and looked around in vain for some
sign of his companion. Near at hand swung a vessel at anchor. Toward
this Dick swam, reaching its side and seizing a hawser which dangled to
the water’s edge.
As he clung there in the deep shadow of the vessel he discovered that
the launch had slackened its speed and was swinging round on its course.
Across the intervening water came the sound of excited voices. Brad
Buckhart was hotly denouncing the fellows who had cut down the rowboat.
A great wave of relief swept over Dick, for he knew now that in some
manner the Texan had escaped and was on board the launch.
Dick’s first inclination was to raise a shout and announce that he also
was safe and unharmed. This was suppressed almost instantly by a desire
to wait and see what would happen, and so, clinging to the hawser there
in the dark shadow of the vessel with only his head above the surface of
the water, the boy watched and listened.
Like Brad, Merriwell believed the rowboat had been cut down by
deliberate intent. On discovering that Lynch and Ditson were aboard the
launch, this belief became a fixed certainty in Dick’s mind.
The launch slid slowly past, with Buckhart vainly straining his eyes for
some glimpse of his chum.
“It’s awfully tough on Brad,” thought Dick; “but I’m more than willing
those other fellows should think I’ve been drowned. If they have a
conscience, it ought to prick them a little.”
Pulling at the hawser, he found that it was secure, and when the launch
had passed he lost little time in lifting himself up by the rope, hand
over hand, and, rolling over the rail of the vessel, dropped to the
deck.
From the vessel Dick watched the launch as the afterglow of sunset died
in the west, and night spread its sable wings above the world. He saw
other boats join in the search, but still he declined to make known the
fact that he had escaped.
A huge colored man, stretching his arms, and yawning, appeared on deck
from below.
“Mah golly!” he muttered. “Ah must hab slept like a log. Why, it’s gone
got dark areddy, and Ah ain’t lit dem lights. If de cap’n evah foun’ dat
out, Ah’d ketch it. Ah guess Ah’ll hurry up about gittin’ dem lights
lit. Yes, sah!”
“That’s right, Sambo,” said Dick, in a low tone, as he stepped out and
confronted the negro. “You better get onto your job.”
“Fo’ laws sake!” gasped the colored man, starting back. “Where yo’ come
from, maan? How’d yo’ git on dis yere vessel? What yo’ doin’ on dis yere
vessel? By golly! Ah guess yo’ one ob dem pirate thieves dat goes round
stealin’ from vessels, ain’t yer? Now, yo’ keep yo’ distance. Don’ come
near dis nigger, fo’ Ah’ll crack your skull jes’ as sure’s yo’ do. Ah’s
a baad maan, Ah is. Mah name is Thomas Jefferson Jackson Jones, and Ah’s
dangerous when Ah gits mah mad up. If Ah eber hits yo’ wif one of dese
mauls ob mine, dat will be yo’ funeral, maan. Yo’ll ride along wif de
flowers in de front carriage, and yo’ won’t hear none of de music. Yes,
sir; yes, sir! Ah’s dangerous!”
“You look it,” laughed Dick, for through the darkness he could see the
darky’s eyes rolling with terror, and it seemed that the fellow’s
shaking knees would melt beneath him. “Don’t let my accidental presence
on board the vessel disturb you.”
“Oh, Ah’s not disturbed in the slightes’ declivity,” hastily retorted
Thomas Jefferson Jackson Jones. “Ah’s puffeckly caam and placated, Ah
is. Ah’s a maan dat nebber takes no chances. Always carries a razzor in
mah pocket for ’mergencies. Yes, sah!”
“Well, let your razor stay in your pocket,” said Dick. “You won’t have
to use it. Be kind enough to do me a favor—don’t speak quite so loud.
I’ll explain how you came to find me here.”
The darky listened with an air of doubt to Dick’s words, but the boy
called his attention to the fact that the launch and a number of small
boats were moving about near the spot where the collision had occurred.
“They’re still searching for me,” said Merriwell. “For certain reasons I
don’t want them to know I escaped. I want them to think I was drowned.
Now, Sambo, I’m going to make you a proposition.”
“Ah beliebe Ah ’stinctly tol’ you mah name is Thomas Jefferson Jackson
Jones. Yo’ll kindly deflane from callin’ me Sambo, sah.”
“All right, Thomas,” laughed Dick. “I see you’re very sensitive. I have
no desire to hurt your tender feelings. Instead of that, I feel very
friendly toward you. After you have lighted those lamps you can make
five dollars by taking a boat and setting me ashore.”
“Ah ain’t s’posed to leabe dis vessel, sah,” said the colored man, “but
if Ah saw a five-dollar bill a-comin’ mah way, Ah might be injewsed to
leave it fo’ a short time.”
The boy brought out some money, and finally succeeded in peeling a
dripping five-dollar bill from the small roll.
“It’s the real stuff, Thomas,” he said. “If you give me your word that
you’ll set me ashore, and say nothing about it, the money is yours.”
“Mah word is jes’ as good as mah bond,” chuckled the negro, “and dey
ain’t either one wuth a tinker’s rap. Yah! yah! yah! But when Ah see a
five-dollar William comin’ mah way, Ah’s ready fo’ almos’ anything. Yo’
hol’ up, maan, till Ah gets dem lamps lighted. Ah’ll be wif yer in jes’
about two seconds.”
Made secure by a painter, a boat lay floating under the stern of the
vessel. When the colored man had set the lamp he returned and drew this
boat up on the port side of the vessel and dropped into it along with
Merriwell. It was now dark, so Dick was not recognized by any of the
searchers, and therefore his plan of deception was carried through
successfully.