A PLOT FOILED
“Wait until I speak to them,” replied Mr. Snodgrass, preparing to
descend to the lower deck. “I must not lose a chance to get that
butterfly.”
He was soon in conversation with the colored men, who explained they
had heard of the scientist’s object from one of their number who had
come from the village where the travelers had last stopped, and where
the professor had talked of the butterfly.
“I hope he doesn’t allow himself to be persuaded to accompany those
men,” said Mr. Seabury to the three boys. “I believe they would kill
him for what valuables he carried, once they got him off in the swamp.”
“Are they as bad as that?” asked Ned.
“They are worse than the Seminole Indians,” declared Mr. Seabury. “I
would sooner trust one of the latter than a negro of the everglades.”
“I hope the professor doesn’t go,” remarked Rose. “I like him so much.
He’s just like a very old friend of mine who was a teacher in the
college I attended.”
“Mr. Snodgrass is his own master,” said Mr. Seabury. “We can only
advise him.”
At that moment the scientist came back on the upper deck.
“I’m on the right track,” he declared, his eyes shining with
excitement. “Those colored men know just where the butterfly has its
haunts. I’m going with them. It is only a day’s journey.”
“We’ll go along in the motor boat as far as possible,” said Jerry.
“No, no!” objected Mr. Snodgrass. “We have to go into the swamp where
only a canoe can be used. Besides, the puffing of the boat’s engine
might frighten the butterfly. I must go alone with these men. They are
honest I’m sure. They will make a camp for the night and they say they
have food enough for me also.”
“Of course you know your own business,” said Mr. Seabury, “but I
wouldn’t trust them, professor.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will not harm me,” the scientist replied. “Besides,
I have nothing they could steal. I have promised to pay them well if
they bring me to the place where I can get my prize butterfly.”
“Where is the place?” asked Jerry.
“It lies to the east of the lake we discovered,” replied the scientist.
“I must start at once. Those butterflies are scarce and I can’t afford
to take any chances on losing one.”
In spite of the dangers that Mr. Seabury and his daughters hinted at,
and the objections the boys raised, the professor was determined to
accompany the colored men. Mr. Seabury went below and took a look at
the negroes. He had to admit that they were good-natured appearing
enough, with broad grins on their shining, black faces and a manner
which seemed to preclude any desire to do any one an injury.
“Since you have to start from Butterfly Lake why not go with us as
far as there in the motor boat,” proposed Ned. “The men can follow in
their canoe, or we’ll tow them. Then we can make a permanent camp, and
you’ll know where to head for when you get ready to come back with your
butterfly.”
This seemed a good idea to the professor and he agreed to it. The
colored men made no objection, but, on the other hand, seemed to favor
the proposition, which made Mr. Seabury all the more suspicious.
“I believe those negroes are up to some trick,” he said to his
daughters as their visitors prepared to leave. “I can’t say what it is,
but I’m very suspicious. I don’t believe those black men know anything
about the butterfly.”
“What can we do, father?” asked Rose.
“Nothing, I’m afraid. Yet I’ll be on the watch. The _Wanderer_ is not
a fast boat, but I think I’ll keep it near the entrance to Butterfly
Lake for a few days. I may be able to render some assistance to the
professor.”
When good-byes had been said, and assurances given on the part of
Mr. Snodgrass and the boys that they would see their friends of the
houseboat again, the _Dartaway_, towing the canoe with the three
negroes, was headed for the stream of water that connected the two
lakes.
A good place for a camp was found near a small stream that flowed
through the everglades, and up which watercourse the negroes said they
proposed taking the professor in the canoe to search for the butterfly.
“We’ll be waiting here for you,” remarked Jerry, as the scientist got
his butterfly-catching accessories together.
“No telling when I’ll be back,” answered Uriah Snodgrass. “I’m going to
get that prize insect, and it may take longer than these men think.”
“Oh, yo’ll git yo’ butterfly,” said one of the negroes with a broad
grin. “We knows whar dere’s lots ob ’em.”
“Hadn’t you better wait until morning?” suggested Ned. “It’s well along
in the afternoon now, and you can make an early start to-morrow.”
But the professor would hear of no delay. He had often spent many hours
in the open while searching for curiosities of nature, and a night in
the everglades did not alarm him. The negroes said they would find
some sort of shelter, and, having packed up some food, the scientist
announced he was ready.
With mingled feelings the boys watched their friend go off in the canoe
with the colored men. They were disturbed by a vague uneasiness, but
none of them could tell what it was.
“Well,” remarked Ned, when a turn of the sluggish swamp stream hid the
canoe from sight, “we’ve no time to lose. We must make camp before it
gets dark.”
Willing hands made light work of setting up the tent and moving into
it blankets and bed clothing for the night. The _Dartaway_ was moored
in a little cove, and after supper Bob and Ned took their guns and set
out for a shot at some loons, of which there were many about the lake.
Jerry carried his rifle, hoping to get a chance at an alligator.
The boys followed the edge of the lake, keeping watch for anything in
the way of game. They saw several loons, but the queer, big birds were
so far away that a shot was impossible. As Bob walked along, a little
in advance, he came to a sudden stop behind a clump of bushes.
“Easy!” he exclaimed in a whisper. “I see one!”
He took careful aim and pulled the trigger. When the smoke had cleared
away the three chums looked eagerly over the water where, a second
before, a big bird had been seen.
“You’ve blown him to pieces!” exclaimed Ned.
“Missed him altogether,” said Jerry with a smile. “Loons, you know,
dive at the flash of the gun, and they’re under water before the shot
gets anywhere near them.”
An instant later the big bird bobbed up from the water, some distance
away from the spot where Bob had fired at it.
“There he is!” cried Ned.
He took a quick shot, but it seemed to be only fun for the bird, that
instantly dived under the water again.
“Why don’t you play fair!” exclaimed Bob in disgust. “I never saw such
a bird.”
“That’s the only protection it’s got against guns,” said Jerry. “You
can’t blame it. You’d do the same. Besides, what good are they after
you shoot ’em? You can’t eat ’em.”
“Sour grapes!” remarked Ned with a laugh. “But I guess you’re right,
Jerry. We can’t hit ’em, at any rate.”
They walked on for some distance farther and then, as it was getting
dusk, returned to camp.
“I don’t believe I’ll have to have any one sing me to sleep to-night,”
said Bob as he prepared for bed. “I’m dead tired. How about you, Ned?”
“I guess I can get along without a dose of soothing syrup.”
“I was thinking we’d better stand watch,” remarked Jerry.
“Why?” asked Ned.
“To tell you the truth I don’t like the idea of those colored men being
in this neighborhood. Where there are three I think there are sure to
be more. Of course they may be harmless enough, but I have an idea they
are desperate men, and our camp and boat offers quite a temptation to
them.”
“Oh, I don’t believe they’ll bother us,” said Bob. “Let’s get what
sleep we can. Leave a lantern where we can light it in a hurry if we
hear any suspicious noises.”
Ned sided with Bob, and Jerry, somewhat against his will, gave in to
them. However, he determined to stay awake as long as he could. He also
arranged some fishing lines about the camp so that if any intruders
came in they would trip on them and bring down a collection of pots and
pans which he arranged to fall at the slightest disturbance.
“That will do for a burglar alarm,” he said.
Jerry’s intention of remaining awake was well meant, but nature
asserted herself and he was soon slumbering as soundly as his chums.
It was well that Jerry had set his burglar alarm, or, otherwise the
sleep-locked eyes of the boys never would have detected the stealthy
approach of several dark figures that stole around the camp about
midnight. They were figures that crept closer and closer with silent
footsteps, figures that whispered now and then among themselves, and,
had any one been listening, they would have easily recognized the
whispers as those of negro voices.
But the fish lines did not sleep. They did their duty and, when one of
the men caught his foot in a cord, and brought down, with a resounding
clatter and crash, a pile of tins, the three boys awoke with a start.
“Quick! The guns!” cried Jerry.
He struck a match and lighted a lantern which was ready at hand, no
lights having been left burning because they attracted mosquitoes and
other insects.
Bob and Ned grabbed their rifles. An instant later the gleam of a
lantern shone out, and disclosed several negroes about the _Dartaway_.
Some were in the craft and others appeared to be shoving her off the
bank on which her keel rested.
“They’re stealing our boat!” yelled Bob.
An instant later he fired, purposely aiming over the heads of the
intruders. Ned followed his example. There was a yell of terror from
the black men and, with one accord they seemed to disappear from sight.
Jerry ran out with the lantern.
“I think we foiled their plot,” he remarked, as he saw that the boat
was still in place, though on the point of floating away.