THE SHERIFF AND HIS "DAWGS"
"Do you see that package, Pete?" asked Phil, after he had talked with
Larry for a few minutes, and pointing at a bundle the latter had made
up.
"Yas, sah, I does."
"Well, I'm not going to tell you to take it; but after you're gone, I
expect to find it missing. Do you think you understand?" asked the
boy, grinning.
Pete looked puzzled, and scratched his woolly head.
"Yuh 'pears tuh not want me tuh take hit; and den ag'in yuh 'spects me
to kerry hit off when I'se gwine away! Yas, sah, I sees what yuh
means," he answered; though the blank look on his dusky face belied his
assurance.
"You see," Phil continued, soberly; "if the sheriff should happen to
come along we would tell him somebody had taken a package of food from
the boat during the night. Understand? His dogs would be apt to pick
up your trail here, anyhow; and that might be a give-away."
"Oh! yas, sah, I gits on now," said the late prisoner eagerly. "An' it
sure is a good thing foh me as how I runs acrost yuh gemmons dis same
night. On'y foh dat I done drap in de swamps. I takes de grub, but I
don't let you-uns knows hit."
"And when you start off, circle around and make for the south," Phil
went on. "Perhaps, now, you may have heard of the McGees, who make
shingles down below? Well, this boy is Tony McGee. If you're lucky
enough to get to their settlement, which is on the river, he'll help
you further. Here's a little money for you, Pete. I'm giving it to
you just because you say you're going to turn over a new leaf if you
get safe to Mobile. And perhaps some time I'll look you up, or write
to your brother; because we're interested in that family of yours.
What's his name, Pete?"
"Oscar Smith, in keer ob Mistah Underhill, sah. An' I suah is mighty
much 'bliged tuh yuh foh dis. I's gwine tuh do what yuh tells me;
dough I war a tryin' tuh git away by keepin' tuh de west."
"Well, you'll have a better chance by going down river, and I'll tell
you why, Pete;" after which Phil explained how the sheriff of this
county in Northern Florida had reason to shun the neighborhood where
the fierce McGees held forth.
"If I knowed dat afore, massa," said the negro, earnestly, "I done be
down dar by now, an' alarfin' fit to die at dat sheriff. But I make a
circle 'round right now, an' git a start. I done feels dat much better
sense I gets a squar' meal dat I kin keep a movin' 'long all right
smart de rest ob de night."
"Then perhaps you had better be getting along now, Pete," said Phil.
"You see, we can't tell but what the posse might happen on us any time;
and the further you're away when that comes to pass, the better. Shake
hands with me, Pete. And don't forget that we believe you when you say
you're meaning to walk a straight line after this."
The astonished fugitive had tears running down his thin cheeks when he
felt the warm hearty clasp of Phil Lancing's hand. Nor was Larry going
to be left out.
"Shake with me too, Pete," he said, thrusting his chubby hand out. "I
haven't said much, but to everything my chum remarked I'm on. And I
cooked that grub, Pete. Good luck to you! I hope you've had your
lesson, and it's never again for yours."
"Now we'll turn our backs, while you disappear, Pete; so none of us can
see you go," said Phil, suiting the action to his words.
"God bress youse, honey, bofe ob youse!" the man muttered, brokenly.
They heard a movement, a shuffling sound; then presently all became
silent once more, and laughingly the boys turned around.
"It's gone!" declared Larry, pretending to be greatly surprised. "Some
miserable thief has come, and swiped a lot of our grub! Just think of
the colossal nerve of the thing, would you, Phil?"
"Let's go to sleep again," was the only remark of the other, as he
started to fasten down the bottom of the curtains.
"But suppose the sheriff drops in on us?" remarked Larry, who looked
forward to such a possibility with a little of dread.
"Let him come," chuckled Phil. "You can tell him how we had a package
of food taken. He'll understand then what his dogs have found, when
they strike the scent of Pete. But I expect that the fellow will find
plenty of ways for killing his trail between now and morning. He's got
a new lease of life, Pete has; and mark my words, no sheriff's posse is
ever going to overhaul him from this on."
So saying Phil began to make himself comfortable again. Larry
proceeded to fix his own bed afresh; and when he pronounced himself
ready his chum put out the lantern.
In all, not more than half an hour had elapsed since Phil felt that
first touch from the swamp boy; and yet how much had happened in that
short time. The Northern voyagers had passed through a new and novel
experience; and there was Black Pete hastening through the woods, and
through the swamps bound south, with hope once more filling his
troubled breast.
There was no further alarm during the remainder of that night, and the
boys were getting breakfast when Tony uttered an exclamation.
"Look! they are comin' down below! That is Barker at the head!" he
muttered.
"Drop down in the bottom of the boat, Tony," Phil hastened to say; for
it had all been arranged beforehand what their programme might be.
Larry jumped ashore to unfasten the cable, while his chum hastened to
pay attention to his motor, so as to get the power on without delay.
Some distance away they could see a party of men advancing. In front
trailed a pair of tawny hounds, straining at their leashes, and
evidently following some sort of trail.
A distant shout announced that these parties had discovered the boat;
but the boys at first paid no attention to the hail. It was only after
they had started from their late landing place that they pretended to
have discovered the coming file of men; and Phil answered their shouts
with a wave of his hat.
The sheriff was a typical Southerner. He wore a broad-brimmed hat; and
had on a long coat; which, being open in front disclosed the heavy
revolver which he carried next his hip.
Each one of his three companions had a gun of some sort. Possibly they
were the guards from the turpentine camp, searching for the fugitive
convict. Taken all in all the quartette of men presented a very fierce
appearance; and Phil felt relieved to know that poor Pete was not fated
to fall into their clutches. The fugitive had given them a heap of
trouble, and in case of capture could expect little mercy.
The sheriff stepped to the edge of the bank, and made motions as though
he wished the voyagers to come in; but Phil had no intention of doing
so. He really feared that the law officer might be tempted to carry
Tony off, just to get even with his father, the terrible McGee, whom he
did not dare face again.
Phil did reverse the engine, however, so that the Aurora might drift
slowly past the spot where the sheriff was standing. Plainly the other
desired to have a few words with those aboard.
"Hello! gents!" called the officer, with his hands forming a megaphone,
so that his voice might carry the more readily. "I'm the sheriff of
this heah county; and this is my posse. We's huntin' a desprit convict
that got loose from the camp a week back, by name Pete Smith. He's
been headin' up thisaway, as the dogs allow; and p'raps now yuh might
a-seen somethin' of him."
Phil pretended to look at Larry as though surprised.
"I bet you it must have been him, Larry!" he said, in a voice loud
enough to be heard on shore; and then turning to the sheriff he went
on: "Some sort of critter sneaked into our boat last night, sir, and
made way with a lot of our grub. Guess it must have been the runaway
you mention."
"And my goodness! did you hear him say it was a desperate convict,
Phil?" cried the innocent Larry, showing all the signs of alarm. "Why,
he might have murdered us while we slept! Oh! what a narrow escape!"
They were now opposite the sheriff, and still drifting with the
current, though held back by the turning of the screw.
"Say, what's that about a thief gettin' away with some of your grub?"
called out the officer, excitedly. "Whar was you campin' at the time?
Didn't we see you tied up tuh the bank yonder, whar that palmetto bends
down like? Tell me that, younkers! It's a heap important, yuh see,
that my dawgs pick up the scent fresh, though I spect they's on to it
right now."
"Yes, we spent last night there, Mr. Sheriff, right where you see that
palmetto. Hope you have all the luck you deserve!" Phil sent back over
the widening water.
"You'd better look sharp below aways. They's a hard crowd down in that
region, the McGee clan o' law breakers and squatters. They'll clean
yuh out, if yuh stop off nigh 'em. That's a warnin', younkers. If so
be yuh meet old McGee, tell him Bud Barker ain't forgot, an' in time
he's acomin' back!"
Tony could hardly keep from rising up, and shaking his fist after the
enemy of his father, when these threatening words floated to his ears.
But Phil pulled him down before his presence was discovered by the
sheriff.
The last they saw of Barker he was pushing after his dogs, pellmell,
doubtless in the belief that he would get on the track of Pete again
when they arrived at the palmetto tree.
"Do you really suppose that what he says is true, and Pete's a regular
pirate?" asked Larry, in a troubled voice.
"Well, not any so you could notice," laughed Phil. "In fact, after
seeing the make-up of the fierce fire-eating sheriff, I'm more than
ever glad I gave poor old Pete the glad hand, and helped him on his
way. Perhaps he may not have such a raft of piccaninnies as he said,
but anyhow I'm pretty sure he deserved to be given one more chance to
make good."
"Oh! I'm so glad to hear you say that, Phil," cried Larry. "I was
afraid that we had made a bad break. But, my! wasn't Mr. Barker a
fierce looking gent, though?"