Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: "There he comes right now, Larry; and he's holding up
some game you like right well."]
Chums In Dixie
OR
_THE STRANGE CRUISE OF A MOTORBOAT_
_By_
ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE
Author of
"THE HOUSE BOAT BOYS," "THE YOUNG FUR-TAKERS," "CANOE MATES IN CANADA,"
Etc.
M. A. DONOHUE & CO.,
Chicago
COPYRIGHT 1912.
M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE VOYAGE BEGUN
II. A BOY OF THE SWAMPS
III. THE SQUATTERS OF THE CYPRESS TRACT
IV. DOWN THE SWIFT CURRENT
V. WHAT HAPPENED ON THE FIRST NIGHT
VI. "SAVING THE BACON"
VII. LARRY CATCHES THE FEVER
VIII. HELD FAST
IX. THE SECOND NIGHT OUT
X. WHEN THE SLEEPER AWOKE
XI. AN UNINVITED GUEST
XII. THE SHERIFF AND HIS "DAWGS"
XIII. IN THE CYPRESS COUNTRY
XIV. LARRY PICKS UP SOME MORE POINTERS
XV. A RIDE ON AN ALLIGATOR
XVI. UNDER THE TWISTED LIVE OAK
XVII. TALKING IT OVER
XVIII. THE COMING OF THE TERRIBLE McGEE
XIX. TAKEN PRISONER
XX. AMONG THE SHINGLE-MAKERS
XXI. A GLOOMY OUTLOOK
XXII. PHIL SHOOTS HIS BOLT--AND LOSES!
XXIII. THE WINGED MESSENGER
CHUMS IN DIXIE
OR
_The Strange Cruise of a Motor Boat_
By ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE
CHAPTER I
THE VOYAGE BEGUN
"Phil, oh! Phil, won't you please hurry up? I'll go to sleep pretty
soon, if we don't get a move on us."
"Just give me five minutes more, Larry, and I promise you we're going
to leave this place, and start on our cruise down to the big Gulf.
I've got a couple of nuts to put on again, and then you'll hear the
little motor begin to hum."
The last speaker was bending over the engine of a fair-sized motor
boat, which had a stationary roof, and adjustable curtains that in time
of need could be made to enclose the entire vessel.
This modern craft was tied up against the bank of one of those narrow
but swift streams that, having their source in southern Georgia or
Alabama, find their way to the Gulf of Mexico, after passing through
many miles of Florida cypress swamps that are next to unknown territory
to the outside world.
Phil Lancing was the son of a well-to-do Northern physician, who had
some time previously come into possession of a very large tract of
territory in Northern Florida. Considerable of this property was in
vast swamps; and here squatters had settled many years back, cutting
the trees at their pleasure, and making vast quantities of cypress
shingles, which were floated down the river to markets along the gulf.
The second occupant of the brave launch Aurora was a rather chubby
specimen of a half grown lad, with a rosy face, and laughing blue eyes.
Larry Densmore expected to become a lawyer some fine day, and in
evidence of his fitness for the business he was constantly asking
questions, and finding debatable points in such matters as naturally
came up.
Phil being an amateur naturalist, knew considerable about the woods and
their numerous denizens. Larry was an utter greenhorn, and apt many
times to display his gross ignorance concerning the habits of game; as
well as the thousand and one things a woodsman is supposed to be
acquainted with. But his good-nature was really without limit; and one
could hardly ever get provoked with Larry, even when he committed the
most stupendous of blunders.
Upon hearing these consoling words from his chum, Larry, who was
sitting well up in the bow of the boat, yawned and stretched himself.
The southern sun was inclined to be warm, and Larry had not slept very
well the two nights he had been aboard the motor boat. But then it was
nothing very singular to see the chubby lad yawning at any time of the
day.
"I'm real glad we've got all our supplies aboard," he said, aloud, just
to pass the time away, and to keep awake while Phil was fussing with
the engine preparatory to starting on their trip down-stream. "I'm
tired of this dead little village that they call a town. And tired of
hearing what an awful lot of trouble we're bound to buck up against
when we get two-thirds of the way down to the gulf. Wonder what they'd
say if they knew your dad owned most all of that property along this
crazy old creek they call a river. And that you even expect to stop
off to interview that terrible McGee they talk about! Oh, my! what was
that, now?"
Larry ceased to stretch himself. He even sat up, his eyes wide open
now, as if he had noticed something away out of the usual; and they
were fastened on the stern of the boat, where he had certainly seen
something slip over the gunwale, and vanish under a pile of blankets
that had been airing.
Phil raised his head. He did not even glance at his chum, but seemed
to be listening intently.
"Now what d'ye suppose all that shouting means?" he exclaimed. "Seems
to be coming this way too, and mighty fast at that. There, look,
Larry, don't you see them running through the woods? As sure as you
live they're coming this way! I wonder if it's a fox hunt, or what?"
"Mebbe--" began Larry; and then his comrade interrupted him before he
could say what was on his mind.
"They're heading right for us; and there's that big Colonel Brashears
at their head, the fellow who told us all those awful stories about the
shingle-makers of the swamps. Here they come, seven of 'em; and look,
Larry, as many as four have got ugly whips in their hands! Something's
up, I tell you."
Again did Larry open his mouth as though to say something; and for the
second time, after a swift glance toward the blankets, he closed it
again resolutely.
The seven men who were running speedily drew near. Most of them were
out of breath, and all looked very much excited. The leader, who was
quite a character in the Southern town, and a fierce appearing
individual, with a military swagger, which Phil believed to be wholly
assumed, immediately addressed himself to the two young Northerners on
the new-fangled motor boat, which had been the wonder of the
townspeople ever since it was dropped off the cars to be launched in
the so-called "river" at their doors.
"Seen anything of him acomin' this aways, sah?" he asked, in a high
pitched, raspy voice. "We done chased him through the woods, and he's
give us the slip. Thinkin' he mout have come in this direction, we
changed our course to put the question to yuh."
"What was it--a fox?" asked Phil, innocently enough.
"No, sah, it was not a fox, but a miserable whelp of a boy!" exclaimed
the indignant colonel, drawing his military figure up, and cracking his
whip with a vindictive report that sounded like the discharge of a
pistol.
"A boy?" ejaculated Phil, astonished at all this display of force under
such peculiar conditions.
"A boy!" echoed Larry, some of the color leaving his face, and a look
of genuine concern taking its place.
"A mighty sassy and desp'rit critter at that," the colonel went on.
"One of that McGee tribe from down-river way. He's been loafin' 'round
town some days, I'm told, an' we're lucky not to have our homes robbed
o' everything wuth while. My Bob met him on the street a while back;
an' jest like boys, they had words that led to blows. The miserable
beggar actually had the nerve to lick my Bob; foh yuh see I reckon he's
just like a wildcat in a fight. When I seen the black eye and bloody
nose he give my Bob I jest natchally ached to lay it on him; and
organizin' a posse o' my neighbors, who has reason to hate them McGees
like cold pizen, we started out to lay hands on the cub an' tan his
hide black an' blue."
"But he managed to escape after all, you say?" asked Phil, who had some
difficulty in keeping a grin of satisfaction from showing on his face;
for the idea of these seven stalwart men chasing one puny little chap
was pretty close to ridiculous in his eyes.
"He was too slick foh us, I reckons, sah," the colonel went on,
snapping off the heads of a few wild flowers with the lash of his
constantly moving whip. "We done lost sight of him in the woods, and
thought as how possibly you mout aseen him thisaways. And so we turned
aside to ask you that question, sah."
Phil shook his head in the negative.
"I give you my word, Colonel Brashears, I haven't seen the least sign
of any boy for the last five hours," he said, positively, and with
truth. "I've been busy making a few changes in my engine here; and we
expect to start down the river inside of five minutes or so."
"Thet's all right, sah," returned the other, with a slight bow. "And
such bein' the case me and my posse had better be turnin' our attention
in another quarter. We're gwine tuh find that little scamp yet, and
tickle his hide foh him. When he goes back tuh his kind below, they'll
understand that weuns up-river don't tolerate thieves and brawlers in
ouh town. Good day, sah, and we sure hope you-all may have a pleasant
voyage; but we done warn yuh tuh look sharp when yuh gets nigh the
stampin' place o' the terrible McGee!"
The posse turned away, and went trooping back into the open woods.
Larry had listened to all that was being said with his mouth half open,
and a look of real concern on his face. He saw with a thrill that once
the leader of the crowd seemed to pause, as if to dispute with his men
as to what their next best course might be.
"Oh, do hurry, Phil!" cried the watching lad, as he jumped up from his
seat, and going ashore, started to unfasten the cable that held the
motor boat to a tree.
"In a minute or two, Chum Larry!" sang out; the other. "What's your
haste? Upon my word, I never knew you to act like that before.
Generally you're the last one to want to rush things. See here, was it
the visit of those fellows that upset you, Larry?"
"Yes, yes," answered the other, with a voice that actually trembled
with anxiety; "that Colonel Brashears is such a fierce fire-eater, and
he cracked that awful whip just like he itched to lay it on the bare
back of that poor little chap. Let's get out of this before they can
come back. Why, they might even want to search our boat, you know!"
"Oh! I guess there's no danger of that," laughed Phil. "Anyway, you
can see that they've gone into the woods again."
"And headed down-stream; notice that, Phil," went on the stout boy,
nervously. "Say, I'm going to unfasten the rope now, and let her swing
off on the current. It will give us a start, you know, and make me
feel easier."
"All right, let her slip," answered the engineer; "I'm just about ready
to turn the engine, and get power on her. Come aboard, Larry. We're
off!"
Phil waved his hat, and gave a little cheer as the Aurora began to move
through the dark water of the stream, with her nose pointing due south.
The merry popping of her unmuffled exhaust told that the engine was
busily at work, even if turned on at part speed.
When he saw the shore slipping rapidly by Larry seemed to breathe
easier. Still, he kept his gaze fastened upon the woods, as though not
quite sure that the posse might not unexpectedly heave in sight again,
with a new demand.
For a short time there was silence aboard the rapidly speeding boat.
Phil busied himself with his engine, watching its performance with more
or less satisfaction; for his heart was set on mechanics, and he
anticipated great things of the motor he had put into his boat before
sending her south for this especial trip.
Larry on the other hand never once turned to look at the shore along
the larboard quarter; that which he knew sheltered the seven burly boy
hunters claimed all his attention.
"I wonder will they find the poor little chap?" Phil finally remarked;
showing that after all his thoughts were not wholly taken up with the
working of the engine at which he was gazing so proudly.
"Say, did you hear what he said about the swamp boy licking his Bob?"
demanded Larry, with sudden glee. "Don't you remember what we thought
of that big loafer; and how he seemed to lord it over all the other
boys of the town, when they came out in a bunch to see what our boat
looked like? I'm awful glad he got his, ain't you, Phil?"
"Sure I am," grinned the other. "Thought at one time I'd have to
tackle Bob on my own account, when he got so sassy; but I knew his dad
would make it rough for us, and I managed to hold in. Yes, he got only
what he deserved, I guess. And if I ever meet up with that swamp boy,
I declare I'd like to shake hands with him, and tell him he is all
right for doing what he did. It took some nerve to tackle Bob--just
like a little rooster going next door and licking the cock of the
barnyard."
"Would you really like to tell him that?" exclaimed Larry, as he
clutched the shoulder of his chum; and Phil, looking up was astonished
to see how his eyes danced.
"Give you my word I would," he declared, vehemently.
"Good!" ejaculated the other, with a nervous laugh; and springing over
to a spot nearer the stern of the boat he called out: "You might as
well come out now. The colonel and his crowd are far away, and we want
to see what you look like!"
Thereupon, to the immense amazement of Phil Lancing, the blankets began
to heave; and being speedily tossed aside, behold there came forth the
figure of a tattered, half-grown boy--a boy with a face as brown as
that of an Indian, and with a pair of defiant black eyes that flashed
fire as he looked straight at the owner of the motor boat.
And Phil realized that he was gazing upon the boy belonging to the
terrible McGee tribe from down-river, who had just licked the big
Brashears cub in his own home town!