One who has never been in the woods at night and heard such a strange,
awesome, blood-chilling sound cannot understand the shuddery feeling
that creeps over the flesh of the listener.
In his veins Crauthers seemed to feel his blood turning to ice-water.
His heart stood still when the second cry came, then leaped and pounded
so violently that there was a pain in his breast.
"There's one of your wild animals, Mark!" said Stark, who was not a
little nervous himself, although he wished to hide the fact.
"For the Lord's sake keep still!" breathed Crauthers, his dark teeth
knocking together tremulously as he uttered the words. "What can it be?"
"Here's your chance to hunt a wild animal," said Hogan. "Go out and
tackle it."
"Why, you know I haven't a weapon!"
"Bunol will lend you his knife."
"No," said the Spaniard. "The knife I have not."
"Haven't even a knife?" gasped Crauthers. "I've got a revolver, but I
didn't bring it. Great Scott! not one of us is armed! What if we are
attacked?"
"Clubs, fellows!" said Hogan, as he began to pull over the little pile
of wood.
"Out with the fire!" sibilated Crauthers, "That's what has attracted the
thing."
Stark grasped him.
"Let the fire burn," he said. "Haven't you read how it will hold real
wolves at bay?"
"That's no wolf!" said Hogan. "It may be a wildcat, but there are no
wolves in these parts."
By this time the boys had each secured a club. The wind had lulled, and
silence lay on the woods. Once more the cry came to their ears, and this
time it was even nearer. But now there seemed something strangely human
about it.
"Listen!" urged Bunol.
He placed his fingers to his lips and blew the signal of the Wolf Gang,
a peculiar whistle that cut shrilly through the night.
"You fool!" snarled Crauthers. "Do you----"
Then he stopped, for the signal was answered in a similar manner. Again
the wondering boys looked at one another.
"Our signal!" they said.
"I thought I knew who yelled to us," said Bunol, in satisfaction.
"There is only one fellow at Fardale who knows our signal," said Stark.
"That's Arlington!" declared Hogan.
"He comes," declared Bunol.
"What? Chet Arlington coming here? Why----"
"Somehow he think we may be here, and he comes," said the Spaniard.
Immediately Stark's suspicions were reawakened.
"It's a put up job!" he declared. "He sent you here, Bunol, to listen to
our plans, and now he is coming. Confound your treacherous skin, if
you----"
"Hold on!" spoke the Spanish lad, in a low tone. "Better go slow. I have
nothing to do with him. I hate him. I prove it to you."
"Prove it now!" urged Crauthers. "This is your chance!"
"How?"
"Go out there and lay for him in the darkness. When he comes along, soak
him! That's the way to do it! I dare you to do it--I dare you!"
"I'll do it!" declared Miguel, at once, "Put out fire so he will not
see. Quick!"
Crauthers dashed aside the brands with his foot and began to stamp them
out.
"Hold on!" urged Stark. "I don't know about this business. Better be
careful, or we'll all get into----"
"He can't prove a thing. If he's alone, we are four to his one. If he is
bringing any one here, it's right to meet him and give it to him. Go on,
Bunol."
Crauthers ground the dying embers beneath his feet, and the interior of
the Den was plunged into darkness, save for the faint glow of a few
coals.
"You wait!" whispered Bunol, as he crouched to creep forth. "You see now
how much friend I am to him! I prove it to you! I get even with him!"
He still retained the club he had caught up from the pile of wood.
Stark was apprehensive, but Crauthers was shaking with eagerness, being
seized by an intense longing to join in the attack on Arlington.
As they waited, the approaching person whistled again.
"He's crossing the tree-bridge!" palpitated Crauthers. "Bunol will be
sure to be waiting for him when he reaches the ground on this side. Keep
quiet!"
They did not have to wait long. Soon they heard the sound of a sudden
struggle, a muffled, broken cry, and a heavy fall. Their hearts beat
painfully after a period of shocked stillness, and it was not without
difficulty that they breathed.
The night wind passed over the woods like a sigh.
Hogan started to say something in a whisper, but he was checked, and
they waited yet a little longer. Then the voice of Miguel Bunol, soft
and steady, called to them.
"Come out and see how I keep my word," it said. "I prove to you I do not
lie."
Still they hesitated.
"What do you suppose the fool has done?" muttered Stark apprehensively.
"I hope it's nothing serious."
He was the first of the remaining trio to creep forth from the Den. The
others followed him, and they found Bunol waiting in the path.
"Come," he said, and they silently followed him to a little distance,
pausing near the foot of the nearer tree that completed the bridge over
the jungle.
"Here he is," said the Spaniard.
"Where?" asked Stark.
"At your feet." But they could see nothing.
Stark struck a match, sheltering it with his hollowed hands, as he cast
the light downward. Hogan breathed forth an exclamation that betrayed
the agitated state of his nerves.
For the flickering light fell on the pale face of Chester Arlington, who
lay stretched on his back where he had fallen when struck down by the
club in the hands of Miguel Bunol. Arlington's eyes were closed, and
near his left temple something red trickled down from his hair.
"Good heavens!" gasped Hogan, as he dropped on his knees. "Why, this is
carrying the thing too far! I'm afraid he's badly hurt!"
Crauthers said nothing, for in his heart there was a mingled sensation
of satisfaction and fear.
"What in blazes have you done, Bunol?" demanded Stark, who was likewise
alarmed.
"I soak him!" said the Spaniard. "That was what you say for me to do. I
do it!"
The match fell from Stark's fingers. In darkness they stood huddled
about that silent form stretched on the ground. Fear had gripped their
hearts. They longed to turn and hurry from the spot, but curiosity held
them yet a little longer.
Stark struck another match and bent over Arlington. He thrust a hand
inside Chester's coat and felt for his heart. In his excitement he was
quite unaware that he was feeling on the wrong side.
"My God!" he said huskily. "You have killed him, Bunol! His heart does
not even flutter!"
"He should know better than to fool with Miguel Bunol," said the
Spaniard.
By the gleam of the expiring match they glanced at Miguel's face and saw
there no look of regret. The Spaniard was utterly pitiless, and remorse
had not touched him. A little while before he had seemed the devoted
friend of Chester Arlington, but his friendship had turned to the
bitterest hatred, and his hatred had led to this terrible deed that
might be--murder!
"Let's get out of here!" whispered Crauthers, "We didn't do it! We had
nothing to do with it! We know nothing about it!"
Stark wanted them to stay a little longer, but panic seemed to clutch
them. Crauthers went staggering up the tree trunk, with Hogan following
close behind. They did not pause when Stark called to them.
"We better go, too," said Bunol.
"You go to the devil!" burst from Stark, suddenly overcome by repulsion
caused by the treachery of the fellow. But he did not care to be left
there with the Spaniard and the fellow he had slain, so he hastened to
cross over the trees and rush after his companions.
Like a cat, Bunol followed, and in the desolate woods was left the
unfortunate lad who had been struck down by his erstwhile comrade.
The wind moaned through the trees with a dreary sound, dying away like a
sigh. The woods were still. The trees and the thickets seemed to listen
and wait for some sign of life in that motionless figure.
Stark called to Hogan and Crauthers as he stumbled along the path. He
uttered exclamations of annoyance, pain, and anger when branches whipped
him stingingly across the face. Three or four times he stumbled and
fell, but he was up again and hurrying on in a twinkling.
"Where are those fools?" he grated. "What do they mean by running away
and leaving me like this!"
He paused a moment to listen, and then he gave a great start, for right
beside him a voice spoke:
"They run like cowards."
"Bunol!" exclaimed Stark, far from pleased. "What in blazes do you mean
by following me so closely? I didn't hear you behind me."
"You all run off," said the Spanish lad. "Why you think I should stay?"
"You did the trick! You should have remained to make sure he was dead or
alive, one or the other."
"Bah!" said the other. "If he is dead, it do no good to stay. If he is
'live, he come out of it after while, and I care not to be round. He no
see who hit him. If he is 'live, I no want him to have some proof."
"You were a fool to strike so hard with that club!"
"When I hate, I hate hard. When I strike, I strike hard."
"But you were a fool! Think of it! You killed him!"
"Perhaps so, perhaps not."
"I know; I felt for his heart."
Stark was in a terrible state of mind, for murder was a thing to shake
his nerves, even though it had not been meditated upon in advance. His
brain seemed confused, and he could not decide on the proper course to
pursue. The horror of the tragedy in the woods was on him, and he could
not shake it off.
Bunol managed to hold himself well in hand, and his nerve seemed
wonderful, making him more repellent to Stark.
"You killed him!" repeated Fred. "You may be hanged for it!"
"Why? Nobody need know."
"Such things are bound to come out. Besides, why should we put ourselves
in a bad box by shielding you? You--you alone are to blame!"
"Ha!" cried Bunol derisively. "You say that? You? Why, you sent me to
soak him! You dare to blow on me? Ha! You be in bad scrape, too!"
Stark drew off from the fellow. The shadow of the gloomy woods was close
at hand, and he turned from it. Several times he looked back, fearing to
see a ghostly figure in pursuit.
Bunol clung close to him. They had not proceeded far before two other
forms rose from behind an old stone wall. Stark halted, his heart giving
a leap, but one of the two called, and he recognized the voice of Hogan.
Hogan and Crauthers were shivering. The cold night wind seemed to cut
them to the bone. Their teeth chattered, and Crauthers seemed almost on
the verge of collapse.
"Fellows," said Stark, "we were fools to run away like that. We should
have stayed. Perhaps Arlington was not dead. He may lay there and die in
the woods."
"I wouldn't go back there for a thousand dollars!" said Crauthers.
Hogan longed to go back, but he lacked the nerve.
They all turned on Bunol, whom they reviled for his act.
"Yah!" snarled the Spaniard. "You squeal! You just as bad! You send me
to do it."
"Get away from us!" said Hogan. "We want nothing more to do with you!"
"Perhaps you blow on me?"
They made no answer, seeking to hurry from him, but he followed them up.
"You blow, I swear I kill you!" he cried. "I swear to do it, and I keep
my word! You see! you see!"
They had been ascending a hill. Now they turned on him, and, as they did
so, a cry of surprise came from the lips of Hogan.
"Good Lord, boys!" he exclaimed; "just look there!"
They saw him fling his arm out in a gesture toward the distant strip of
woods. They looked, and what they saw was startling in the extreme. In
the midst of the woods there was a reddish glare which rose and glowed
and grew stronger every minute.
"The woods are afire!" gasped Crauthers.
"Sure thing!" came from the lips of Stark.
"Why, how----"
"It started from our fire in the Den! When the brands were
scattered--that's what did it!"
"Boys," said Stark chokingly, "Arlington is there in the burning woods!
If we had brought him out! Perhaps we can do it now! Come,
fellows--come, let's go back!"
They caught hold of him.
"Too late!" said Crauthers. "See how the fire is spreading! The wind is
driving it. The whole strip of woods will be a mass of roaring flame in
a few minutes!"
Miguel Bunol stood by, no words falling from his lips. In his heart
there was a feeling of relief caused by sight of the rising fire.
"If the Spaniard had stayed away----" began Crauthers.
Bunol whirled on him.
"You first to propose I soak him!" he sneered. "Now you lose nerve! Now
you are coward! But fire will wipe all out. It burn so nobody ever prove
he was struck. He was caught in fire and couldn't get out. That is it."
Bunol was too much for them. Bad though they had been, the nerve of the
Spanish lad after such a dark deed made him repulsive to them all.
"We had better get back to the academy in a hurry," said Stark. "We
don't want to be out when the excitement over this fire starts. Let's
hustle, fellows."
So they ran over the hill and on toward the academy. Behind them the
fire rose and waved gleaming pennants to the clouds, which reflected the
red glow. The wind moaned through the night and sent the flames leaping
from tree to tree.
"We are all murderers!" whispered Crauthers, thinking of the boy left
lifeless in the burning woods.