IN THE CYPRESS COUNTRY
During the morning they talked often of the occurrence of the previous
night. Phil no longer felt any qualms of conscience, on account of
what he had done. And he really hoped Pete would get clear of the
posse. There had been something in the face of the negro that
impressed both boys with a sense of his honesty. He had been sent to
the convict camp simply because he was unlucky enough to be in a fight.
Had he been a common thief it might have looked different to Phil.
And while Tony McGee might not be able to grasp all the fine points in
the matter, he could understand that these two new friends of his had
warm, boyish hearts; and he often looked at them with growing affection
when neither Phil nor Larry believed he was at all concerned about
their affairs.
Then that old troubled expression would flit back again, to hold
dominion over Tony's face. That was when he tried to imagine what his
father's actions might be, after he learned that one of these lads was
really the son of Dr. Lancing, the rich land owner, against whom he had
so strong a grudge that he would have been sorely tempted to kill him,
did the millionaire but venture into the land of the squatter
shingle-makers.
They tied up again at noon, taking Tony's advice. Phil could plainly
see that the swamp boy, acting as pilot of the little expedition, was
trying to time their progress so as to hit a certain place toward
nightfall.
"What d'ye think of it?" asked Larry, when Tony having wandered off
with the gun to see if he could find some "partridges," the two could
exchange words without being overheard.
"About Tony, do you mean?" queried his companion, easily guessing what
was worrying Larry.
"Yes. He asked us not to leave here until about the middle of the
afternoon; and then he sprung that idea on us, of stepping out to see
if he could scare up any game. You don't imagine for a minute, do you,
Phil, that he means to betray us to his friends, and get us into
trouble?"
"Rats! You don't dream of believing that yourself, now. But I saw
just as you did, that he wanted to hold us here a certain time. And it
wouldn't surprise me one little bit if Tony failed to come back until a
couple of hours had gone," and while saying this Phil looked wise,
which fact struck his chum as particularly exasperating, seeing that he
was so consumed with curiosity.
"Then do take pity on me, and tell me right away what you think," said
Larry; "because I can see in your face that you've guessed something."
"Well, of course you've heard Tony try to convince me lots of times
that it would be foolish in our stopping off to see his father?" Phil
said to begin with.
"Yes, I have," replied Larry, promptly. "First of all he wanted us to
turn back. Then, when he saw that you just wouldn't, he asked why not
keep right on past his place."
"Just so," remarked Phil. "And I've got a notion right now that Tony
is holding us back so that we will just have to do some traveling after
dark tonight. Perhaps he'll find some excuse for it, by saying there
is no decent stopping place. And in that way the boy may hope to coax
us past the dangerous point where the squatters have their settlement."
"But you won't consent, Phil; I just know you too well to believe it,"
cried Larry.
"Well, not so you can see it," came the positive reply. "When I
embarked on this cruise I knew just what I was up against. I
understood that McGee was feeling bitter against my dad; but I believe
the message I'm carrying him will knock all his animosity to flinders.
And not even Tony must upset my plans."
The time crept on. An hour had passed since Tony went away. They had
heard several distant shots in quick succession, and Larry was filled
with hope that his craving for "quail on toast" might be finally made
an accomplished fact; though just where the latter article was to come
from might have puzzled any one, since their last scrap of bread had
long since vanished from mortal view.
Another hour seemed almost exhausted, and Larry began to grow uneasy.
"He's got your new gun along, Phil," he remarked.
"That's so," smiled the other, who did not seem one whit disturbed by
the non-appearance of the swamp boy; "but don't you believe that cuts
any figure in his keeping away. I've been studying Tony right along,
ever since we met him first; and I'd stake a heap on his fidelity. He
has come to care for us, too. I could see that by the way he watches
us, and the light in his eyes at times. But there he comes right now,
Larry; and he's holding up some game you like right well."
"It's quail all right, and a fine bunch of the little darlings, too!"
exclaimed the cook of the expedition, his face relaxing into a happy
grin; and all doubts immediately vanished from his mind.
Tony came slowly into camp. Phil noticed that there was a serious look
on his face, as though more than ever the swamp boy might be troubled
in his mind. Which fact gave Phil a rather startling idea.
Could it be possible that Tony had met with any of the squatters during
his little side hunt? And suppose this to have been the case, what had
happened between them? Of course they must know that Tony had gone
up-river with his little blind sister, so that his presence near the
home settlement would arouse both their curiosity and suspicions.
They must also notice the wonderful pump-gun he was carrying; and that
again would be likely to cause them to demand an explanation. Would
Tony tell all that had happened to him? And might the news be thus
carried ahead of their coming to the terrible McGee, that the son of
the rich man he hated so bitterly was even now in his power?
But Tony said nothing. He was far from being talkative at any time,
and just now he seemed to shut up as "tight as a clam," as Larry
expressed it aside to his chum.
They started down the now wide stream. Since the boys first commencing
this eventful voyage two days back, the river had received many
additions in the way of smaller creeks, so that it was now pouring
quite a volume of water along toward the gulf.
And it was easy to see from the nature of the frequent swamps bordering
the banks that they were drawing near the great cypress belt where the
shingle-makers held forth in all their glory, defying eviction on the
part of any owner of the territory.
It was about the latter part of the afternoon when Larry called
attention to a man on the shore. He was standing on a hamak, and held
an old gun in his hands, as though he might have been hunting up this
way, and his dugout not far off.
The fellow was far from prepossessing looking, to say the least. His
garments were of dingy homespun, and his beard gave him the appearance
of a tramp. But of course Phil realized that he must belong to the
settlement toward which they were gradually drawing closer with every
mile passed over. And if so surely Tony would know him.
He noticed that the man was staring at them as they glided past, with
the motor slowed down to its lowest ebb; as Tony had requested that
they only keep with the current. And turning toward the swamp boy he
saw him make some sort of sign to the man--it might be merely a wave of
recognition; and again there may have been a deeper significance
connected with it.
"You knew him, then, Tony?" asked Phil, trying to seem indifferent.
"Oh! yes, sure," replied the other, quickly. "That was Gabe Barker."
"Barker!" exclaimed Phil, "any relation to our friend the sheriff, now?"
"Yep, that's the funny part o' it," replied Tony, with a slight smile.
"Gabe an' the sheriff be full cousins. But all the same, Gabe he
helped to carry the pole when they ride t'other Barker out o' the
settlement. They has a feud you see, his fambly an' that o' the
sheriff."
"But Gabe is one of the McGee clan now, isn't he?" pursued Phil.
"He's be'n, nigh on seven year," Tony admitted. "Think he licked the
father o' the sheriff, and hed tuh cut stick an' run afore they got
'im."
"Why d'ye suppose he didn't call out to you?" asked Phil; who really
considered this the most sinister part of the entire proceeding; for
according to his way of thinking it would have been the natural thing
for a man to have done under such circumstances.
Tony allowed that queer little smirk to creep over his face again.
"Gabe he would like to much, on'y he couldn't," he said.
"Why, I didn't see anybody stopping him!" ejaculated Larry.
Tony made a movement toward his mouth, and then observed:
"Gabe he not say much now for five years. Used tuh curse more'n three
men. Then a tree he was cutting down fell wrong way. Gabe he caught
underneath. Bite tongue off and near die when McGee find him. So he
makes talk with hands since that time."
"Oh! what d'ye think of that, now?" cried the wondering Larry. "Pretty
tough on that long-legged Gabe, for a fact. No wonder then, he didn't
call out to you, and ask all those questions I could see on his face."
"Tony, do you suppose now that Gabe came up the swift river in his
dugout, which I noticed floating on the water near where he stood on
that rise?" asked Phil, with a reason for the query.
The swamp boy looked uneasily at him, but answered at once.
"No, current too strong. We come this far through swamp. I paddle so
when I take little sister up-river. That place whar Gabe stand hide
entrance to swamp."
"And how long do you suppose it would take Gabe, if he started right
away, to get back to the settlement?" Phil continued.
"After sundown, an' afore dark," the other answered. "River turn many
times, but through swamp it is easy to go straight away."
"Then unless we started up, and ran for it, Gabe could get there sooner
than our motor boat; is that a fact, Tony?"
"Yes," replied the swamp boy, with a sigh, "Gabe get there first,
anyhow!"