AN UNEXPECTED DELIVERANCE.
“Yes, sir,” said Luke Redman, who seemed to grow more and more elated
the longer he thought of his new idea, “that’s the way I’ll bring you
down from thar. Now, will you give up the money? I promise that you can
go whar you please, an’ nobody shan’t bother you.”
“What’s the promise of a man like you worth?” I inquired. “I wouldn’t
trust you as far as I could throw a church-house.”
“Take your time, an’ think it over,” said Luke; “but b’ar one thing in
mind while you are about it, an’ that is, that I mean all I say.”
There was no doubt about that. Luke Redman was a desperate character,
and money would tempt him to any deed of atrocity.
We stepped back from the window and looked at one another in blank
amazement. I knew my face was pale, for the blood went rushing back upon
my heart, and set it to beating like a trip-hammer. Tom was as white as
a sheet, and that added to my terror. He had shown himself to be
possessed of a remarkable degree of courage, and I knew that when he
became frightened, there was good reason for it.
We were in a terrible predicament. If we remained in our prison, we
would certainly lose our lives, and if we surrendered ourselves into the
hands of our enemies, we would fare but little better, for they were
almost beside themselves with fury, and we could expect nothing but the
severest treatment. Seventy blows with a rawhide would be a light
punishment, compared with the vengeance they would wreak upon us.
“Well, Tom,” said I, “this is the end of your plan.”
“It looks like it,” he answered, “and of us too. We have our choice
between burning up and allowing ourselves to be pounded to death. This
is infinitely worse than running a race with the hounds. Which horn of
the dilemma shall we take, Joe?”
“Let’s stay where we are, and trust to luck,” I replied, desperately.
“Something may turn up in our favor. The logs in the house may prove too
green to burn, or the settlers may arrive before the fire gets fairly
started.”
“That’s a fact. We’ll risk it, anyhow.”
“Hear me up thar, don’t you?” shouted Luke Redman, who had grown tired
of waiting for an answer to his question. “What are you goin’ to do
about it?”
“Bring on your kindling-wood,” was Tom’s reply. “We’ll stay here.”
“Wal!” shouted Luke, who seemed utterly confounded at the decision we
had made. “Do you want to stay thar an’ be burned up?”
“Go and find the shavings, Barney,” shouted Tom. “Hunt up the matches,
Jake. Set the old thing a-going, and let’s have a bonfire. Hurrah for
the Fourth of July! You’ll find us the pluckiest cubs you ever tried to
smoke out.”
“I’ll see how much pluck you have got,” retorted Luke, “an’ if I don’t
make you sick of your bargain afore you are many minutes older, I’m a
Dutchman! I’ll bet you’ll be glad enough to come out o’ thar.”
Luke had no doubt imagined that we could be easily frightened into
compliance with his wishes, and, as a sailor would say, he was “taken
all aback” by our answer.
It was some time before he recovered himself; but rage got the better of
his astonishment at last, and, without saying a word, he beckoned to his
boys, and went into the house.
They were gone about ten minutes, and when they came out again, they
carried their blankets and a few other articles of value under their
arms, and the expression on their faces told us what they had done.
“The kindlin’ wood is found, an’ so be the matches,” said Luke Redman,
with a fiendish grin. “The bonfire will be goin’ directly, ’cause them
logs is dry, an’ will burn like tinder. Better come out o’ thar.”
Tom and I looked down at the cabin, and saw a thin wreath of smoke come
curling out. It increased in volume every moment, and was finally
followed by a sheet of flame. Then we heard a great roaring and
crackling below us, and the planks in the door began to feel hot to the
touch. The house was really on fire.
“You see that I am not foolin’ with you, I reckon,” said Luke. “You may
know that I am bound to have that money, if I am willing to burn my
house to get it. Do you guess you’ll have pluck enough to stand it?”
“Do you guess you have pluck enough to stand before the buckshot in
these guns?” asked Tom. “We have seen enough of you, and you had better
dig out. We’ll give you just a minute to clear the ground, and if
there’s one of you in sight at the end of that time, he’ll get hurt.
Hear me, don’t you?”
Tom cocked his gun as he said this, and rested the weapon on the
window-sill, the muzzle pointed down at Luke Redman’s breast.
That worthy stepped out of range very quickly, and gazed after his boys,
who, taking Tom at his word, whistled to the dogs, and made the best of
their way into the cane.
“You had better go, too, Luke,” said my companion. “Time’s almost up.”
He turned the muzzle toward the outlaw again, and the latter, beginning
to see very plainly he was in a dangerous neighborhood, followed after
the boys, and quickly disappeared from our view.
“I had an object in sending them away,” exclaimed Tom. “Don’t you see
that the smoke from the fire is settling toward the ground? When it gets
thick enough to conceal our movements, we’ll drop down from this window,
and take to our heels. I know it is a desperate plan, but we are not
going to stay here and be roasted.”
During all this time the fire had been gathering rapid headway, and now
great sheets of flame began to shoot toward the sky, and dense volumes
of smoke rolled past the window. It gradually filled our prison, too,
and before many minutes passed, we could see the flames shining through
the cracks in the door.
And this was not the worst of it. Luke Redman and his boys must have
suspected the plan we had determined upon, for as soon as the smoke
concealed the window, they came out of their hiding-places, and the
sound of their voices told us that they had stationed themselves at the
foot of the cliff, to cut off our escape.
Our situation was becoming really alarming. The smoke filled our prison
until we could scarcely breathe; the air was hot and almost stifling;
the perspiration rolled down our faces in streams; and thin tongues of
flame began to appear under the door.
It required the exercise of all the courage I possessed to stand there
inactive, but my companion had shown so much generalship that I knew it
was best to be governed by his movements.
At last even he could endure it no longer, for when the roof of the
cabin fell in with a crash, and the sparks arose in thick clouds, and
the door of our prison, which had been smoking for the last five
minutes, suddenly burst into a mass of flame, Tom began to bestir
himself.
“Our last hope is gone,” said he. “Here it is almost dark, and the
settlers have not yet arrived. We can’t stay here any longer,” he added,
as a portion of the door fell down, giving us a view of the roaring mass
of flames below. “Climb out of the window, Joe, and the instant you
touch the ground, run for your life. We can do no good now by sticking
together, and each one must look out for himself.”
At this moment a noise at the opposite end of the room attracted my
attention—a grating noise, as if a board was being pushed along the
wall. We both heard it, and our first thought was that Luke Redman was
attempting a flank movement on us through some entrance to our prison,
the existence of which we had never suspected. We knew that there was
some one near us, but the smoke was so thick we could not see who it
was.
“Keep perfectly quiet,” said Tom, in a suppressed whisper. “There’s a
chance for us yet. The minute he gets in here, we’ll make a rush for
that secret passage-way.”
“Merciful heavens!” exclaimed a familiar voice, in low and cautious
tones, as if fearful of being overheard, “he is not here.”
I stood like a boy petrified. It was certainly my brother who spoke; but
it seemed so impossible that he should be there, and that he should
enter our place of retreat in that unexpected manner, that for a moment
I was unwilling to believe the evidence of my ears.
“We’re too late,” said the voice. “What in the world is to be done now?”
“Mark!” I cried, so overjoyed that I could scarcely speak plainly.
There was no response in words; but I heard a step on the floor, and
some one came bounding through the smoke and clasped me in an
affectionate embrace.
It was really my brother Mark; and in order that you may understand by
what means he effected an entrance into our prison, and how he happened
to arrive just in time to be of service to us, I must interrupt the
thread of my story for a few minutes.
I have told you that after the battle at the camp on Black Bayou our
fellows frustrated the attempts of Luke Redman and his gang to capture
them, by throwing themselves on their horses. They had suffered severely
at the hands of the attacking party, for they had been resolved to
prevent the rescue of the outlaw, and to save the eight thousand
dollars, if within the bounds of possibility. As long as they saw the
least chance for success, they did not think of retreat. They stood
their ground bravely, fighting with reckless determination, and it was
only when they saw that the Swamp Dragoons were assisted by Pete and his
followers, that they lost heart and saved themselves by flight.
Sandy and Mark had been most unmercifully pummeled by the heavy switches
with which every one of the attacking party was armed, especially the
former. He held fast to Luke until the last moment, and even succeeded
in placing him upon a horse, but was obliged to abandon him at last in
order to save himself.
That they were not all captured was probably owing to the fact that my
brother carried his double-barrel in his hands. The sight of the weapon
restrained the ardor of the robber crew, who, after they had rescued
Luke Redman, allowed Mark and his companions to mount their horses and
ride off without making any very determined effort to seize them.
When our fellows had placed a safe distance between themselves and the
enemy, the foremost ones waited for those behind to come up, and then
they found for the first time that I was missing. That occasioned them
but little uneasiness, however; for, knowing that I had been standing
guard at the time the attack was made, they supposed that I had been
allowed an opportunity to escape, and that I had improved it. I would
certainly turn up all right before morning, and there was no need that
they should stop to look for me.
Their first hard work must be to alarm the settlers, and the sooner this
was done the more certainty there was of capturing Luke and recovering
the eight thousand dollars.
They kept their horses in a rapid gallop, and the five miles that lay
between them and the settlement were quickly accomplished. When they
reached the end of the lane that led from the swamp, Sandy turned toward
his own home, Duke and Herbert kept on to theirs, and Mark, leaping his
horse over the bars, dismounted at the porch and rushed into the house
to arouse father.
During the next hour and a half the country for two or three miles
around was in great commotion. Mounted messengers galloped in all
directions, stopping at every house to alarm the inmates, hunting horns
sounded, guns were fired, all the hounds in the settlement kept up
continuous baying, and now and then squads of armed men dashed along the
road and turned down the lane that led to the swamp.
Mark, who had thrown himself upon the kitchen floor in front of a
blazing fire, snored through it all, and about daylight awoke to find
that father had gone off with the rest of the settlers, without thinking
to awaken him.
“Now, this is a nice way to treat a fellow, isn’t it?” growled Mark,
greatly disappointed. “They will find and capture those villains, and
I’ll never have a hand in it at all. I think some one might have called
me.”
“Here is a warm breakfast waiting for you, and you will find a fresh
horse, saddled and bridled, standing at the door,” said mother. “There
are three inches of snow on the ground, and you will have no difficulty
in following the settlers’ trail.”
Mark, somewhat mollified by this, walked out on the porch to take a look
at the horse that had been provided for him.
As he came out the door, he discovered some one standing near the bars;
but the instant he caught sight of him, he sprang behind a thicket of
bushes as if anxious to escape observation.
Mark’s suspicions were aroused in an instant. He jumped off the porch,
and running around the bushes, found himself standing face to face with
Jim, the young wrestler.