JOE WAYRING’S PLUCK.
Sometimes there is more in drawing lots than those who take part in it
imagine, and so it proved in this instance. If Ralph or Loren had
drawn the shortest stick, some things that I have yet to tell of never
would have happened.
“I’m elected,” said Tom, spitefully, “but I’ll stand by the agreement.
I have plenty of time to go down to camp and return before dark, so I
will wait and see what Wayring is going to do.”
“Do you want to go with him?” inquired Ralph.
“How can I when we are going home in the morning?”
“Then what difference does it make to you where Wayring goes?”
“I don’t know that it makes any difference. I simply wish to satisfy
my curiosity.”
It did not take many minutes to do that. After a little more
conversation with Mr. Swan Joe came toward the storehouse, in front of
whose open door Tom and his cousins were standing. There they met
Morris, the guide, who cautioned them against quarreling with their
compass in case they found themselves bewildered in the unbroken
wilderness through which they must pass in order to reach No-Man’s
Pond. When Joe and his chums came out of the store with their loaded
camp-baskets on their back, Morris also came out and accosted Tom.
“This is the first chance I have had to thank you young gentlemen for
your generosity,” said he. “Mr. Hanson has given me half the reward
you earned by restoring those guns and which you did not claim.”
“You are very welcome, I am sure,” answered Tom. “Were you with the
party that found Wayring’s canoe? If you had looked a little further
you might have found the guns, too. How about that money? Heard any
thing of it lately?”
“Not so very,” replied the guide. “All we know is, that Jake Coyle
cheated the robbers out of it very neatly, hid it somewhere, and then
took himself off. It is over on your side of the lake; we are sure of
that. You seem to be lucky, so why don’t you hunt it up and claim the
six hundred?”
“If you men who know every foot of the woods can’t find it, we
wouldn’t stand much of a show,” said Ralph. “Do you know where Wayring
and his cronies have started for? I see that they have left their
skiff behind and that Mr. Swan is taking care of it.”
“They’re bound to catch some legal trout before they go home, and are
going to No-Man’s Pond after them. That’s twelve miles from here, and
through the thickest woods any body ever heard of. They’ll catch fish,
but, as I told them, they will have a time getting there.”
Tom’s curiosity was satisfied now, and, as there was nothing more to
detain him at the lake, he was ready to undertake the disagreeable
duty to which he had been “elected.” The trip to and from the camp was
disagreeable only because Tom did not want to make it just then. He
would have preferred to stay and seek an introduction to some of the
pretty girls who had been registered at the hotel since his last
visit, and who were now in full possession of the lawn tennis court.
When Tom reached the grove in which he and his cousins had spent their
two weeks outing, an unpleasant surprise awaited him. He saw nothing
suspicious about the camp; indeed he did not look for it; but in less
than half a minute after he beached his canoe and disembarked he was
surrounded by Matt Coyle and his boys, who glared savagely at him and
brandished switches over his head.
“Well, sir, we’ve ketched one of ye,” said Matt, laying hold of Tom’s
collar. “Now will you own up or won’t you?”
With a quick jerk Tom freed himself from the squatter’s grasp and
turned and faced him. He was so bold and defiant that Matt quailed
before him.
“What have you to say to me?” demanded Tom, with flashing eyes. “Keep
your distance if you expect me to talk to you. I was in hopes I had
seen the last of you.”
“Well, you see you ain’t, don’t you?” answered the squatter, calling
all his courage to his aid. “You stole them two guns of me an’ them
six thousand dollars besides. We’ve come after ’em, an’ we’re goin’ to
have ’em, too.”
“I haven’t seen your guns or your money, either,” replied Tom. “Who
told you I had?”
“Nobody,” said Matt, who never could take time to think when he was
excited or angry. “We jest suspicion you.”
“Then go and ‘suspicion’ somebody else. You are wide of the mark. I
know you have lost the guns, for Swan found them when he found the
canoe. Morris told me a little while ago that Hanson had paid him part
of the reward. But I didn’t know about the money. Here’s Jake; Why
don’t you make him tell where it is? Every body knows that he hid it—”
“Yes; but it ain’t there now,” shouted Matt. “It’s been took outen the
place where he left it, an’ none of us don’t know nothin’ about it.”
What evil genius put it into Tom’s head to say, “I know where it is?”
“That’s what we suspicioned all along, an’ that’s what brung us here,”
exclaimed the squatter, shaking his switch at the boy, while Sam’s
face grew as white as a sheet. He recoiled a step or two and looked
anxiously at Tom.
“But I haven’t got it and never had,” continued the latter. “Do you
know where No-Man’s Pond is? Well, if you will go there, you will find
your old friend Wayring and his party; and they’ve got your money.”
“Why—why, how did they come by it?” stammered Matt.
“How do you suppose I know? They probably found it where Jake hid it.
I don’t know of any other way they could get it.”
“But they ain’t been here long enough to do much runnin’ around,” Matt
reminded him.
“They have been here three days, and that’s long enough for them to
cover a good many miles in that fast-going skiff of theirs.”
“But we’ve been right there at the cove all the time, an’ they
couldn’t have come snoopin’ around without us hearin’ them,” said
Matt, who hardly knew whether he stood on his head or his feet. “What
took ’em so far up the creek, an’ how did they know where the money
was hid?”
“I don’t know any thing about that. I simply tell you that I saw those
two valises in Joe Wayring’s camp-basket to-day, and that you will
never handle a dollar of it.”
“Why, they’re wusser’n thieves theirselves. Do you reckon they took it
to No-Man’s Pond with ’em?”
“They certainly did not leave it at the hotel,” replied Tom. “Perhaps
they don’t mean to go to No-Man’s Pond at all. They may be striking
for Irvington, for all I know, intending to claim the reward when they
give up the money.”
“They shan’t never get there,” yelled Matt, who believed every word of
this ridiculous story. “I wish we was on t’other side of the lake.”
“The only way you can get there is to go down to the outlet and ask
some of your friends living there to set you across,” replied Tom; and
as he spoke he stepped up to an evergreen, pressed the thick branches
down with both hands, and took from its place of concealment a roll of
blankets. From other trees he took more blankets, a lot of tin dishes,
and provisions enough to last a small party of moderate eaters a week
or more. Matt and his hungry family could, no doubt, have made way
with them in a single day. They watched the boy’s movements with the
keenest interest. They had ransacked every hole and corner of the
grove before Tom came, overturning logs and throwing leaves aside, but
their hour’s work had not been rewarded by so much as a can of beans.
They were as surprised as children are the first time they see a
magician take money out of a borrowed hat.
“That bangs me,” said Matt.
“I don’t suppose I should have found any of these things if you had
thought to look up instead of down,” replied Tom.
“I’d like mighty well to have the grub,” was the squatter’s answer.
“We don’t see nothin’ good to eat from one year’s end to another’s.”
To Matt’s great surprise and joy Tom said—
“You may have the grub. I can get more at the hotel. There is an old
blanket that you can have to wrap it up in. Now look here: Are you
going to follow Wayring to No-Man’s Pond?”
“You’re mighty right, I am,” said Matt, emphatically.
“I don’t know whether or not you will find him there,” Tom went on.
“But if you do don’t mention my name. Don’t let him even suspect that
you have seen me this vacation. Don’t refer to me in any way; do you
hear?”
“Do you reckon I’ve got a pair of ears?”
“I reckon you have; and I can see for myself that they are big enough
for two men. If I were in your place, I would dig out of this country
and never come back.”
“I’ve been thinkin’ of doin’ it,” said Matt.
“The whole region is in arms against you, and it is a mystery to me
how you have kept out of the clutches of the law as long as you have.
But if they don’t catch you before they will surely catch you when the
first snow comes. Mark that. They will track you down as they would a
mink.”
“Don’t I know that?” exclaimed Matt, growing red in the face with
anger. “When the snow comes we’ll have to stick clost to camp, for if
we go out we shall leave a trail that can be easy follered. But
what’ll we do when our grub is all gone?”
“That’s your lookout and not mine,” said Tom, shrugging his shoulders.
“Go off somewhere. Find a strange place where you are not known, and
then you can go and come without fear of being tracked down.”
So saying Tom tossed the blankets into his canoe, stepped in himself
and shoved away from the beach, leaving three astonished, alarmed, and
angry persons behind. If Sam Coyle had been alone there would have
been strange scenes enacted in the grove, for Sam was pretty near
frantic. Like his father, he believed the story that Tom Bigden had
cooked up on the spur of the moment, and from that time forward he was
one of Joe Wayring’s most implacable foes. As for Matt, he was utterly
bewildered—stunned. Once again he told himself that there was
something wrong somewhere. Cunning as he had showed himself to be in
outwitting the guides and officers of the law, he never parted with
Tom Bigden without feeling that the boy had got the better of him in
some way. Jake Coyle was the frightened one of the party. His father
had promised him a terrible beating, which, upon reflection, he had
decided to postpone until he could learn whether or not the six
thousand dollars were concealed in Tom Bigden’s camp. Would the
whipping be forthcoming now that the money had not been found? Having
had a good night’s sleep and something nourishing to eat, Jake was
stronger and more courageous than he had been the day before, and he
made up his mind that he wouldn’t be whipped at all. He had outrun his
clumsy father more than once, and was sure he could do it again. Matt
must have been thinking about this very thing, for he said, as he
spread the blanket upon the ground and began tossing the provisions
into it—
“If I done a pap’s dooty by you, Jakey, I’d larrup you good fashion to
pay you for hidin’ that there money where Joe Wayring an’ his friends
could find it; but I’ll let you off agin for a little while. We’ll put
as straight for No-Man’s Pond as we can go, an’ if I find that Joe’s
got the money I won’t do nothin’ to you; me an’ you will be friends
like we’ve always been. But if he ain’t got it, or if he’s hid it
where we can’t find it, then there’ll be such a row betwixt me an’ you
that the folks up to Injun Lake will think there’s a harrycane got
loose in the woods.”
Jake drew a long breath of relief, but Sam wanted to yell. The latter
was strongly opposed to going to No-Man’s Pond. His great desire was
to return to camp, separate himself from the rest of the family as
soon as he could, and look into the tree in which he had concealed the
money. Somehow he could not bring himself to believe that it had been
found and carried off.
“Say, pap, I wouldn’t go acrost the lake if I was you,” Sam ventured
to say. “So long’s we stay over yer we’re safe, ’cause the guides
can’t get to us without our bein’ knowin’ to it; but if we go to
trampin’ through woods that we are liable to get lost in they may jump
down on us afore we can wink twice.”
“No they won’t,” said Matt, confidently. “I’m too ole a coon to be
ketched that a-way. Leastwise I ain’t a-goin’ to let them six thousand
go without makin’ the best kind of a fight for ’em.”
“But somebody oughter go to camp an’ tell mam where we’re goin’,” Sam
insisted. “She’ll be scared if we don’t show up by the time it comes
dark. I’d jest as soon go as not, and I’ll jine you agin at the
outlet.”
“Sam, what’s the matter of you?” exclaimed Matt. “You always was sich
a coward you would go hungry before you would sneak out of nights an’
steal grub for us to eat; but you’ve got to stand up to the rack this
time, I bet you. I need your help; an’ if I see you makin’ the least
sign of holdin’ back I’ll give you the twin brother to the lickin’ I
promised Jake.”
That was what Sam was afraid of, and it was the only thing that kept
him from running off and making the best of his way to the tree in
which he had hidden the money. Until he had satisfied himself that it
was safe he could neither eat nor sleep.
Having tied the provisions up in as small a compass as possible, Matt
raised the bundle to his shoulder, picked up his rifle, and set out at
a rapid pace for the outlet, Jake and Sam following close behind. They
were ferried across by one of the vagabonds who had given the
superintendent of the hatchery so much trouble, and who expressed the
greatest surprise and pleasure at meeting them. But Matt was not
deceived by his friendly speech. He knew that the man would have made
a prisoner of him in a minute if he had possessed the power.
“I never thought to set eyes on you again,” was the way in which he
welcomed Matt and his boys. “You’ve kept yourselves tol’able close
since Swan burned your camp, ain’t you? An’ they do say that Jakey has
made six thousand dollars clean cash outen that Irvin’ton bank
robbery. Course I’ll set you acrost. Goin’ to change your quarters, be
you? Where do you reckon you’ll bring up?”
“New London,” replied Matt, readily. “From there we’ll take a boat to
some place on the Sound where they want wood-choppers, an’ then we’ll
settle down an’ go to work.”
“But the ole woman ain’t with you.”
“She’s goin’ cross lots, ’cause she didn’t think she could stand the
long tramp that me and the boys are goin’ to take. Yes; we’re goin’ to
hide ourselves durin’ the winter, an’ when spring comes mebbe we’ll
come too. They’ll forget all about us by that time.”
“Well, I hope the constables won’t foller you through the woods.”
“It wouldn’t be healthy for any body to do that,” replied Matt,
looking sharply at the man with his little black eyes. “A feller who
can hit a squirrel’s head at every shot can throw a bullet middlin’
clost to a mark the bigness of a constable.”
This was a threat, and the man who ferried them across the outlet took
it as such. As he was too timid as well as too indolent to take any
steps that would lead to the squatter’s apprehension, he contented
himself by going back to his cabin, smoking a pipe, and wishing he had
the reward that had been put upon Matt’s head.
The pursuers had lost a good deal of time in going from Tom Bigden’s
camp to the outlet, but they made up for it by the fast traveling they
did after they were set across. If Matt had not missed his way, he
might have come up with Joe that night. As it was, he and his boys
went into camp about three miles from the spring-hole. During their
journey they came near showing themselves to a couple of individuals
who passed through the woods a hundred yards in advance, heading
toward Indian Lake; but Matt, always on the watch, dropped in time to
avoid discovery, and the boys touched the ground almost as soon as he
did.
“Who be they?” whispered the squatter, peering through the bushes in
the vain effort to obtain a view of the strangers’ faces.
“They’re them two fellers that always runs with Joe Wayring,” answered
Jake.
“Sure?” asked Matt.
“Sure’s I can be without seein’ ’em closter.”
“That’s who they be, pap,” said Sam. “I know, ’cause they’ve got the
same kind of clothes and the same kind of hats on ’em.”
Sam and Jake were deceived by the hunting suits worn by the strangers.
The latter were a couple of sportsmen who had made a short excursion
into the woods without a guide, and were now on their way to their
hotel. Matt took a minute or two in which to think over the situation.
“Look sharp,” said he, in an excited whisper, “an’ see if they have
got camp-baskets onto their backs or grip-sacks in their hands. If
they have, we’ll bounce ’em quicker.”
“They ain’t got nary thing in their hands but jest fish-poles,”
answered Sam. “I can see ’em plain. The things they’ve got on their
backs is knapsacks.”
“Then they must have left Joe Wayring an’ the money alone at the
spring-hole,” chuckled Matt. “They can’t go to Injun Lake an’ turn
around and come back before the middle of forenoon to-morrer, an’ by
the time they see No-Man’s Pond again we’ll be through with our
business. I tell you things is beginnin’ to run my way onct more.
Ain’t you sorry you come, Sammy? We shall find Joe alone at the pond,
and it’ll be the easiest thing in the world to make him trot out that
money or tell where he’s hid it.”
“But supposin’ he won’t do it?” said Jake. “What’ll you do to him,
pap?”
“We’ll tie him to a tree an’ thrash him so’t he won’t never get over
it,” said the squatter, through his teeth. “That boy has put me to a
sight of trouble ever sense I first heard of him, an’ now I’m goin’ to
take my satisfaction outen him. We’ll make him ax our parding an’
acknowledge that we’re just as good as he is, even if we ain’t got no
good clothes to wear.”
“An’ when you get through I’ll take a hand, an’ pay him for the whack
he give me in the face with your paddle,” chimed in Jake.
“An’ I’ll pay him for—for—bein’ so mean to all of us,” said Sam.
He came near betraying himself that time. What he was about to say was
that he would pay Joe Wayring for stealing the money.
“You can do jest what you please with him, an’ I won’t say a word agin
it,” answered the squatter. “The way them rich folks has always run
over us ain’t to be put up with no longer.”
Pursuers and pursued slept soundly within three miles of one another
that night, but the morning’s sun found them all astir. While Joe and
his companions were working like beavers on their bark shanty, Matt
Coyle was wasting his time in searching for the portage that led from
Indian Lake to No-Man’s Pond. He passed the best part of the day in
recovering his bearings, and the afternoon was far spent when Jake
laid his hand on his arm and pointed silently through the bushes ahead
of him. Matt looked, and saw the smoke of a camp-fire curling up
toward the tree-tops. He listened, but no sound came to his ears to
indicate that the camp was occupied. Arthur and Roy had gone in the
canvas canoe to explore the spring-hole and Joe was resting after his
work, thinking the while of almost every thing and every body except
Matt Coyle.
“I don’t reckon he’s there, pap,” said Jake in a cautious whisper.
“He’s there or thereabouts,” was Matt’s reply. “Mebbe he’s went out on
the pond to ketch some trout for his supper. If he has, we’ll be in
time to help him eat ’em, won’t we? Jakey, you crawl up, careful like,
an’ take a peep at things. Me an’ Sam’ll stay here till you come
back.”
Matt never went into danger himself if he could help it, but always
sent Jake; and the boy had become so accustomed to it that he obeyed
this order without the least hesitation. He crept away on his hands
and knees, and at the end of a quarter of an hour returned with a most
gratifying report.
“Joe’s there, an’ he’s all alone,” whispered Jake. “He’s layin’ under
a tree an’ acts like he’s asleep.”
“So much the better for us,” replied Matt, gleefully rubbing his hands
together. “That money is our’n. Now, Jakey, you go that-a-way; Sam,
you go this way; an’ I’ll keep in the middle. In that way we shall
have him surrounded an’ he can’t give us the slip. When you hear me
whistle like a quail, jump up an’ grab him.”
“But, pap, he’s got a gun,” said Jake, apprehensively. “I seen it
layin’ on the ground clost to him.”
“What of it?” Matt demanded, in angry tones. “That’s the very reason I
want you to grab him; so’s he won’t have time to use his gun. Now,
then, here we go, quiet like, an’ still.”
The three moved off so silently that Joe Wayring would not have heard
them if he had been awake and listening for their approach. They came
up on each side of the camp, cutting off every avenue of escape, and
at the signal agreed upon made a simultaneous rush. Before Joe could
open his eyes he was powerless, for Matt Coyle had seized both his
hands, crossed them upon his breast, and pinned them there with a
vise-like grasp.
“It’s come our turn to boss things,” said the squatter, returning
Joe’s astonished look with an angry scowl. “We’ll learn you to drive
us outen Mount Airy an’ tear our house down jest’ cause we’re poor
folks an’ ain’t got no good clothes to wear. Jakey, you an’ Sam look
around an’ find a rope or something to tie him with.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Joe, when he found his tongue.
“That depends on yourself,” answered Matt. “You can get off without a
scratch if you will do jest what I tell you; but if you don’t it will
be wuss for you. Where is it?”
“Where’s what?” said Joe, innocently.
“Now jest listen at the blockhead!” exclaimed Matt. “You don’t know
what I mean, don’t you? I mean the money you stole from us. The money,
you varmint.” And whenever he said “money” he jammed Joe’s hands down
upon his breast with terrific force. “The money, I say. Where is it?”
“All the money I have is in my pocket,” replied Joe. “If you want it,
I can’t hinder you from taking it.” He spoke with difficulty, for
Matt’s furious lunges had nearly knocked the breath out of his body.
“Whoop!” yelled the squatter. “Listen at you! I don’t want the money
that’s into your pocket. I want what was stole from the bank. It
b’longs to me, an’ I’m goin’ to have it. Where is it, I tell you.”
“I don’t know the first thing about it. I never saw it.”
“Mebbe you’ll think different before we get through with you,” said
Matt; “found the rope, have you, Jakey? All right. Stand by to tie his
hands when I tell you; an’, Sam, you pull off his blue shirt. We won’t
fool with him no longer.”
So saying the squatter arose to his feet, pulling Joe up with him. In
a few minutes more the boy was standing with his face to a tree, and
his hands and feet were fastened to it. But the work was not
accomplished without a terrific struggle, I assure you. Joe Wayring
fought desperately, and during the _melee_ Jake was floored by a neat
left-hander in the jaw, and Sam received a kick that doubled him up in
short order. Of course this vigorous treatment added to their fury,
but Matt was disposed to be hilarious over it.
“Well, then, what made you hide the money where he could find it, if
you didn’t want to get a whack from his fist?” said he. “If you had
brung it straight to me, like you oughter done, Joe never would a hit
you.”
“That makes another thing that I’ve got to pay him for,” groaned Jake.
“Hurry up an’ get through with him, pap, ’cause I want to get at him.”
“Then go an’ cut some good tough hickories, both of you. They’ll be
back in a few minutes,” said Matt, as the boys took their knives from
their pockets and disappeared from view, “an’ before they come, you
had better make up your mind to tell me what you have done with that
money. I’ve got all the proof I want that it was seed in your
camp-basket yesterday.”
“Who told you so?” inquired Joe.
“I ain’t namin’ no names,” replied Matt; and then, for the first time,
it occurred to him that if the valises were in Joe’s camp-basket
yesterday they might be there yet, and he at once proceeded to satisfy
himself on that point. The contents of all the baskets were quickly
thrown out upon the ground, but the valises were not brought to light.
“I done that jest ’cause I happened to think of it, an’ not ’cause I
expected to find the money,” Matt exclaimed. “I knowed you would hide
it as soon as you got here. The boys is comin’. They’d like amazin’
well to larrup you on your bare back, an’ they will do it too; we’ll
all do it, if you don’t quit bein’ so pig-headed an’ tell us right
where we can go an’ find that money. Speak quick. Will you do it?”
“I tell you I don’t know any thing about it,” replied Joe, “and you
can’t make me say any thing else. If any body told you a different
story, which I don’t believe, he fooled you. That’s all I’ve got to
say.”
Just then Jake and Sam came out of the bushes with their hands full of
switches.