AMONG THE SHINGLE-MAKERS
At first Phil thought the giant was about to strike him a frightful
blow; for the hand that was free from holding the lantern doubled up
fiercely. Tony, indeed, uttered a pitiful little cry that was almost a
sob; and throwing himself forward clung to the arm of his terrible
father. But he was immediately flung roughly aside as though he were
but vermin.
"So, yuh be his boy, ther man as is a-gwine tuh cla'r weuns off his
land if hit takes all ther sojers in Floridy tuh do hit?" gritted McGee
between his strong white teeth.
Then his mood seemed to change like magic, for he laughed hoarsely, and
looked around at the rough spirits by whom they were hemmed in.
"Wot yuh think o' thet, men, this hyah leetle critter is the son o' ole
Doc. Lancing, ther man we's gwine tuh tar an' feather jest as soon as
he dars show his hide down thisaways. He jest kim hyah as trustin' as
a dove, thinkin' weuns'd never dar lift a hand ag'in 'im, case the
sojers they'd foller arter him. Wot we'll jest do tuh this kid ain't
wuth mentionin', air hit, men?"
Then arose loud and tumultuous shouts, that made poor Larry crumple up
as if he wanted to hide in a thimble. He looked around at the dark and
angry faces to the right and to the left; and again wished he had
thought twice before embarking on this wild scheme of Phil's.
"Shut up!" roared McGee; and the tumult was hushed as if by magic.
The leader looked about him, his strong face working with mingled
passion and pleasure. Phil was somehow reminded of a story, heard in
the long ago, a parable about the lord of the vineyard, who sent his
son to treat with those in possession; and what those unruly spirits
did to the young man was so vividly impressed on his mind right now,
that it gave him a very uncomfortable feeling. History might repeat
itself. And he was the son of the rich man who owned the property!
"Listen tuh me, men," called out McGee, when every eye was glued on his
face. "We'll take these critters back tuh hum with us. Ben, let Marty
hev yuh gun. I 'p'int him tuh stay by the boat, and guard thuh same.
An' remember, all o' yuh, if so much as a single thing is stolen,
yuh'll give an account tuh McGee! understan'?"
Evidently they did, for a number of faces assumed a look of
disappointment, as though hopes had been entertained that they were to
loot the motor boat, just as though they were pirates of the Spanish
Main.
"Git ashore, you!" said the giant, as he motioned with his hand after
the manner of one who was accustomed to being obeyed.
Phil did not even attempt to pick up his gun. He knew that weapon
would be of no use to him in his present trouble. Something far
stronger than a repeating shotgun was needed to extricate him from the
difficulty into which his venturesome spirit had carried him.
Still, he was far from being discouraged. He had not yet shot his
bolt. When this leader of the shingle-makers learned about the
magnificent offer which his father had made, surely he could never hold
the same feelings of bitter resentment and hatred toward the new owner
of all those miles of cypress swamps, with their millions upon millions
of feet of valuable timber waiting to be marketed.
"Come on, Larry, we're going to see the village of the McGees sooner
than we expected," and as he stepped from the boat to the shore, Phil
took care to link his arm with that of his chum, being desirous of
cheering the other up as well as possible.
"And do we have to walk two miles over all that ricketty kind of land?"
groaned poor fat Larry, perspiring at the very thought of the labor.
So they left the motor boat, and Phil could not help wondering whether
they were fated to ever set eyes on it again. Perhaps the men might
disregard the orders of their chief, and loot the craft of everything
movable, even disabling the steady going motor, so that it would be as
so much waste junk afterwards.
Tony must have divined his thoughts, for he took occasion to run
alongside, and mutter in Phil's ear:
"Don't yuh bother 'bout the boat; she won't be teched arter what he
sed. Ther man don't live thet dar's go ag'in McGee's order. Hit's all
right, Phil, all right!"
They quickly reached the spot where the big signal fire had burned long
enough to bring the crowd all the way from the distant village. It was
still blazing up now and then, so that the near vicinity was far from
gloomy; but the work of the fire had been finished.
McGee led the way straight to where the long hollowed-out log boat
rested, the prow drawn up on the shelving shore.
"Git in!" he said, in his deep voice that was like the rumble of
distant thunder.
"Bully! we're going to paddle down by water! Ain't I glad though!"
exclaimed the relieved Larry, as he only too gladly clambered over the
edge, and found a seat amidships of the dugout canoe.
"Yuh git in too, Tony," said McGee, gloomily, as he motioned to his boy.
Evidently he was still in a towering rage but at the same time there
were so many things he could not understand in connection with the
coming of this Lancing boy, and Tony's being in his company, that he
was holding himself back with a great effort.
McGee himself sat in the stern of the boat, paddle in hand. As they
expected to drift with the current, always swift in these deep Florida
streams, there was no need of additional motive power; though Tony had
also picked up another paddle, as if he meant to assist.
So they started away. Looking back Larry could for some time see the
lanterns gleaming aboard the snug motor boat, and how his heart went
out to the cozy little craft. If only he and Phil were again aboard,
and many miles below this settlement of the lawless shingle-makers, how
delighted he would be. He even gave a deep sigh that was akin to a
groan when a turn of the river blotted out the glow of those twin
lights, and darkness profound surrounded them.
There was only the mysterious gurgling of the black water, or the
measured dip of the paddle, with its consequent dripping of unseen
drops, to tell that they were speeding swiftly along; though if he
looked shoreward Larry could see the bordering trees passing in solemn
review, and in this fashion might realize just how fast they were
progressing.
No one said a word during the little voyage. Phil was busy with his
own thoughts, and arranging his programme for the expected interview
with McGee, when he meant to spring his surprise on the gruff giant.
Larry on his part had apparently lost all inclination to speak; which
was something quite out of the common with him, since he liked to hear
himself talk, and believed that a budding lawyer should always find
something to say.
Tony was dumb with a nameless fear. He knew the violent rage into
which this father of his could fly, and he dreaded lest while in such a
state McGee do that which he might always regret. And the giant in
turn was puzzling his brain with the intricacies of the problem by
which he was faced.
Larry felt a hand twitch his arm.
"Look ahead," said the voice of his chum in his ear; and upon raising
his head, and casting his eyes beyond the prow of the long dugout, he
discovered lights.
"The village!" he exclaimed; but it would be hard to discover anything
like pleasure in the quavering voice with which he said this.
"Thet's it!" observed Tony, listlessly.
McGee made no remark, but continued to ply the paddle. Presently the
boat was headed in toward the shore. Phil saw that it would have been
next to impossible for the Aurora to have passed by here without being
discovered; unless they had picked out an hour between midnight and
dawn, when all the settlement might be asleep.
As the boat ran up on a shelving beach, Tony was the first one to jump
out. In rapid succession Phil, Larry, and finally McGee himself, stood
on the shore.
Their coming had been already noted. Several yellow mongrel dogs came
bounding toward them, barking loudly; but at one word in the heavy
voice of McGee it was astonishing to see how quickly they cowed down,
and with tails between their legs, skulked away.
"Why, even the dogs fear him like the devil does holy water!" whispered
Larry, in the ear of his chum.
"He's a wonder, that's what!" muttered Phil; for despite the apparent
violent nature of the big man, there was something attractive about
McGee; and Phil really believed that once he gained the good will of
the other, the squatter head of the clan would prove to be a different
sort of a man from what rumor pictured him.
After the dogs came a swarm of dirty children of all ages. Many were
in rags, all of them barefooted, and the girls had unkempt hair that
made them look all the wilder.
Evidently when the light had been seen, and the men went forth in
obedience to the signal, the balance of the inhabitants of the village
had been aroused, and remained up ever since, waiting to see what would
be the result.
Somehow Phil felt deeply stirred at seeing how poverty stricken the
women and children were. Money must be a scarce thing among them these
days. Perhaps it was the fault of the men, who would work only when
the humor seized them; or again it might be that they got such a small
price for their shingles by the time they reached market that it was
only with difficulty they kept the wolf from the door.
And yet these wretched people cared for their homes here in the midst
of the great swamps; yes, so much so that they were ready to fight for
them, wretched hovels that they seemed to be in Phil Lancing's eyes.
Wondering looks were cast upon the two boys as they followed McGee up
the bank, and into the midst of the village. Perhaps they might even
have been a target for more or less abuse only that McGee was along.
When some of the boys began to call out, and thrust their hands toward
Larry, as if threatening to pinch him, because he was so very plump,
the giant only needed to turn and glare at the offenders to make them
slink away, thoroughly cowed.
Several old men seemed to be the only ones about the place, all of the
others having hastened to obey the signal when McGee led off.
"And all this can be changed, if only he will accept the generous offer
I am bearing him," said Phil to himself, as he looked around at the
evidences of squalor and poverty. "Inside of six months this place
could have a thrifty look; the women would own decent dresses, the
children shoes for their feet if they wanted them; yes, and even a
schoolhouse would stand right in the middle of the village, with a
teacher ready to show these poor things how to read and write, if
nothing more. Oh! don't I hope he acts sensible, and accepts! But I'm
more afraid than I'd like Larry to know. I can see a lurking look in
McGee's eyes that frightens me, even while I'm smiling so bravely."
He had just finished saying this to himself when he saw Tony leading a
woman toward them. There was something akin to pride in the action of
the swamp boy.
"It's his mother, Larry," said Phil, instantly; "don't you remember
that he told us long ago she used to teach school down in Pensacola, or
somewhere else?"
"Well, you'd hardly believe it now," muttered Larry; for the woman was
very much like the others of the squatter village, in that her dress
was homely.
But Phil noticed that her hair was neatly arranged; and despite her
coarse attire there was a certain air of refinement about her.
Tony had evidently managed to give her an inkling, not only as to the
identity of his new friends, but how they had been so good to him. She
was smiling as she advanced, even though Phil could also see a shadow
of anxiety on her face.
"She ought to know the McGee, if anybody does," he thought. "And she
is afraid he'll be mean toward us, and think only of striking a blow at
the man he has come to hate without any real cause."
It was not a pleasant thought, and Phil tried hard to get it out of his
mind by advancing to meet Tony and his mother. McGee, as if convinced
that escape was utterly impossible, did not seem to pay much attention
to his prisoners, once he had brought them safely to the village. He
was talking to the two old men, and probably telling them just who Phil
was, for they could be seen scowling as they glanced toward the boy.
"This is him, mother," said Tony, pointing to Phil, whose hand he
hastened to grip.
Phil saw the eyes of the wife of McGee survey him closely. Perhaps she
had half expected to see some sort of wild animal; for surely such a
stern, cold-blooded tyrant as Doctor Lancing had been pictured to these
ignorant people of the swamp lands he owned, could only have a son of
like character. But if so her disappointment was complete.
"I am glad to meet you, Philip," she said, in a soft, Southern voice,
and with all the refining influences about it that years among these
strange people could not banish. "My son Tony tells me you have been
very kind to him. I only wish I could say I was glad you have come;
but my husband has conceived a most dreadful feeling toward your
father; and I am afraid it will fall heavily upon you. All that I may
do to soften his anger you can count on; but I fear it will not be of
much avail, when once his temper is aroused."
Phil pressed her hand with great pleasure. He saw that despite her
constant association with such demoralizing influences, Mrs. McGee was
still a true Southern gentlewoman. And as a morsel of yeast may leaven
the entire lump of dough, so her presence here in the midst of such
unruly elements might yet prove their salvation.
"Oh! I'm not afraid, ma'am, I promise you," he replied, laughing as he
spoke; although he really did not feel one-half so merry as he made
out; for he could see the baleful eyes of the watching McGee fastened
upon them at that minute, as he stood not far away. "I came here on
purpose to meet McGee. I carry a letter from my father, in which he
asks the assistance of every man in this place to build up a lumber
business here on the river, and market the stuff at top-notch prices.
It would mean money right along for every worker; it would mean that
each family might have a patch of land all their own, as big as they
could work for a garden; and it would mean that from this time on the
women of this place would be able to have the things they should. I am
telling you this, ma'am, so you can carry it to the other women;
because, perhaps in the end, we may have to depend on their influence
to swing the men around. And that is the message my father sends. He
wants to be the friend of you all; and he's coming down here himself to
prove that his letter stands for the truth!"
And as the poor woman saw the brightness of the picture he painted
tears came unbidden into her eyes, and she turned hastily away to hide
her emotion.