"One, two, three, four!"
Frank was counting the shadowy figures that came flitting closer,
stooping over as they advanced, some carrying cudgels, and others
different kinds of weapons as if they expected trouble presently.
"Five, six--what, seven, yes, and eight! Where did they pick up the
other two members of the crowd?" he was saying to himself as he gazed
from his snug retreat.
Then he noticed that a couple were armed with guns. This gave him a clue
which he easily followed to a logical conclusion. On the western shore
of the lake Pet and his disgruntled followers must have run across a
couple of their cronies, who were apparently out hunting, though the law
allowed of no shooting of game at this time of year.
These fellows may even have been acting with the sheriff, who had
offered a certain reward for the apprehension of the hobo thieves. Upon
exchanging stories it may have been decided to return to the island in a
bunch, and make a bold attempt to round up the tramps, who were believed
to be without any guns. That reward would look big in the eyes of these
fellows.
No doubt the presence of the old cabin was known to these boys, and they
had guessed that their quarry might be found hiding there in the heart
of the jungle.
Frank laughed to himself at this new complication. It began to look as
if Waddy and his pal would soon be between a lot of fires that must
scorch them, whichever way they turned.
He put a hand cautiously on Bluff. That individual was so impulsive
there could be no telling just how he might act, and this touch would
serve to calm him down.
The flitting figures had now all passed the hiding boys, avoiding the
dense thicket in which they were crouching, as there were easier
passages around. Looking out, Frank could see them moving around the
cabin, as if trying to ascertain some weak place where an entrance could
be effected.
"Huh!" grunted Bluff, a little incautiously it seemed, "they're going to
do what I wanted to try--make an entrance. Some of them have gone to
pick up that log, and others are peeking in at the window, where the hay
sticks out. If it was bigger they'd just like to crawl through. And we
sit here like a set of babies. Huh!"
"Hold up, now, and consider. What's to hinder our letting them do the
work, and then when they go to reap the results we can just step up and
take the plum away," cautioned his comrade.
"I see. Like the monkey that got the cat to pull his hot chestnuts out
of the fire, eh? Talk about Jerry being a lawyer, he ain't in the same
class with you, Frank."
"Watch!" was all the other replied to this shower of bouquets.
"Something's going to happen to them fellers around there before they
know it," remarked Tom Somers, grimly, though, of course, he followed
the example of the others and kept his voice down to the lowest possible
notch.
"What makes you say that?" asked Bluff, always eager for information.
"I seen something poking up along the roof. I reckon one of them hoboes
is going to come out up thar, and drop something down on Pet and the
fellers. Gee! but don't I hope he slams it in hard. It'd make my cuts
sting a heap less if I see them guys have to take to the tall timber."
Tom was feeling vindictive, and really, after having seen his bruises,
and remembering how shabbily he had been treated by his pards, Frank
could hardly blame him for such a desire. Tom was only human, after all.
Still, what he had said aroused the curiosity of both Frank and Bluff.
They riveted their attention upon the roof of the cabin. As stated
before, this being badly dilapidated, the hoboes had spent some time
patching the same the best they knew how.
It was even now in a shaky condition, and apt to give way if any daring
soul ventured to put his weight upon it.
At least Tom was right, for they quickly discovered that a certain
portion of this roof was actually moving, and even as they looked what
seemed to be a human arm was thrust through. Some one was evidently
making an opening, removing the pieces one by one at a place where they
had been fastened across a former hole.
Frank felt that there was something more about this than appeared on the
surface. He also noted that the fellows on the ground had by now become
aware that they were apparently about to be menaced from above; for he
saw them crouching down under the spot from whence the pieces were
falling, their eyes turned upward.
Then a head was finally thrust up through the opening. Bluff gasped
again. It seemed as though he were bound to get shock after shock.
"Get next to that, will you?" he whispered in Frank's ear, as he
clutched his sleeve and jerked hard; "why, it's our chum Jerry! Oh!
ain't he the candy kid, though?"
"Hush!" said the other, giving him a push, to keep him from rising in
his excitement.
"Well, I take off my lid to him, anyway," whimpered Bluff, unable to
give proper expression to his feelings.
The boy whose actions they were watching seemed to have made up his mind
that he must get out of that cabin some way or other. He had been halted
in his tunneling operations, and perhaps there was some reason why he
might not resume them, or try and open the door; but Jerry evidently
could not be held in restraint.
It was possible that his captors were dozing, and, taking advantage of
the opportunity, he was about to quit their company by means of the hole
he had made in the roof.
Now his body had appeared. He was testing the rotten timbers first to
make positive that they would hold him.
Bluff hardly breathed as he stared as well as he could, for it was half
dark here, even in the daytime. He knew that a mutual surprise awaited
all the persons taking part in that little drama, when Jerry reached the
edge and looked over. Those crouching below expected to see one of the
tattered hoboes, while possibly Jerry hoped he might find his chums
awaiting him.
"It's coming!" Frank heard him say, as he fumbled around for something;
but he was so much interested himself that he did not give Bluff a
second thought.
Then the creeping boy on the low roof of the cabin reached the edge.
They saw him stretch his neck so that his head projected over; and there
he remained, as if frozen stiff by the strange sight that greeted him.
It was not so gloomy there alongside the shack but that his keen eyes
could see, under the heavy growth of rank trees, the many faces
up-turned toward him. At the same time, Pet and his mates made the
astounding discovery that it was Jerry Wallington, after all, who had
been about to descend in this peculiar way.
Too late, Frank realized what was coming. He heard the old familiar
"click" close to his ear, and a thrill of alarm shot through his frame;
but ere he could even wink, much less make the slightest movement, the
thing was done.
Bluff had fired another cartridge connected with that camera of Will's.
Recognizing the proper elements for a powerful flashlight picture in the
remarkable combination before him, he had proceeded to carry out Will's
instructions, regardless of consequences.
Some of the clustering boys seemed ready to scamper off, but the voice
of Pet recalled them to a sense of their duty. Besides, the prospect of
becoming lost in those gloomy woods was not very flattering, and they
huddled together.
"Hey, don't yuh let that skeer yuh, fellers. It's on'y some of that
crazy Will Milton's photergraphy business. Stick to it, and get that
reward. Don't a single one of yuh dar' to run!" was what he shouted.
The situation was rather embarrassing for Jerry. He seemed to be between
two fires as it were. If he came down, these angry boys stood ready to
attack him; while to stay where he was meant that the hoboes would be
able to reach him.
Frank began to wonder whether the time had not come for them to enter
the game and stand by their chum. He had even arisen to his feet to make
a forward movement when he saw that as usual, Jerry had his wits about
him.
The boy on the quivering roof of the old shack was edging his way along.
He appeared to be aiming for a certain spot where a big tree swept its
branches down so as to brush the roof.
It offered a refuge for any one who could neither come down nor remain
where he was, and Jerry knew he could make it. Now he reached the
nearest limb, and like a monkey scrambled upward. The one who caught him
after that would have to be nimble indeed.
"Hurrah!" shouted Bluff, unable to restrain his admiration for the
presence of mind on the part of his chum.
Perhaps, given time, and the Peters crowd might have attempted some
further hostile move, looking to the capture of the boy who had just
gained his freedom from a prison. Frank was grimly making up his mind
that, no matter what happened, he did not mean to stand idly by and see
Jerry fall into the hands of these fellows.
"Say, are you going to rush 'em?" demanded Bluff, fairly wild to make a
charge.
"Not unless they start after Jerry. Just now they seem to be bent on
capturing our friends, the hoboes, and we can afford to let them fight
it out until both sides are exhausted, when our time will come. There
they go at the door with the log as a battering ram! Whoop! what do you
think of that?"
Frank's last exclamation was caused by a sudden movement on the part of
the besieged; for the door had suddenly opened, and a pan of hot water
was thrown out on the huddled holders of the log.