PRISONERS IN THE SHACK
Frank Allen staggered to his knees, then to his feet, reaching out
to grasp at the branches which whisked past his face, scratching him
severely. Under him were also branches and twigs, put there in all
probability to stop the force of the fall as they dropped in.
Hearing the single shot, waiting a moment to see some sign of life in
the shack, Buster and Paul came on a run to the door, peered in, saw
nothing, and leaped inside to help Lanky and Frank.
As they rushed into the shack, going as far as the camouflage of leaves
and twigs, they were seized from behind and pushed forward. Each of
them, throwing out his arms to save himself felt a grip on his weapon,
and as the two boys went into the hole, barely missing the other two
who were already there, the guns were jerked from their grasps.
By this time Frank was on his feet, his own rifle up so that he could
use it, but there was no one in sight. The two boys who came hurtling
into the pit disturbed things for the moment, so that he could not
shoot, for he was determined to fire on those who had pushed him in.
Frank realized he had been caught in a trap.
“You boys all safe down there?” came a question from one of the men
above, a voice which Frank recognized at once as that of the tramp,
Snadder. “We’ve got your guns now, so there ain’t no use trying any
funny tricks.”
Lanky helped Buster to his feet, and the four boys were now standing
alongside each other, all looking up, the twigs and branches crackling
beneath them as they tried to move from one spot to another.
“Guess you boys won’t throw any more folks out of their bunks, will
you? How you feel? Comfortable?” called Snadder again.
Frank anxiously watched for the fellow to come within sight on the
floor of the cabin above, but he was too wary. The tramp knew the two
boys who had first gone down into the hole were in possession of their
weapons.
Looking up to the floor level, it was easily seen that the hole was no
less than ten feet deep, and, as their eyes became accustomed to the
darkness the boys saw that it was just large enough for four of them
comfortably.
“You are the fellows, then who took all our stuff at our camp, are
you?” asked Frank.
“You put us out of there, didn’t you?” parried Snadder. He was keeping
himself out of sight. Frank had his rifle ready for quick use, having
determined that if a leg or an arm showed up over their heads he would
injure the owner and gain a little advantage.
There was, however, he thought to himself, the danger that if he shot
at either of the tramps, they, in turn, would fire on the boys, perhaps
to kill, for they had two guns with them now, and the boys were at the
very great disadvantage of being huddled together in a close space.
On the other hand, thought Frank, would they not be afraid to shoot?
Not because of the result of the shooting. But would they not be
fearful of showing a part of their bodies, which they would have to do
in order to shoot?
“You took all our knives, forks, spoons, lamps, fishing tackle and
that stuff--what was the big idea, Snadder?” Frank went on with his
questions.
There was a chuckle from overhead.
“Couldn’t stay long in that place without all that stuff, could you?”
came back the reply from the leader of the two tramps.
“No, especially when you took our food, too. What are you going to
do with all that stuff? Any chance of buying it back?” Frank asked,
thinking he might start a trade with the fellows.
“I wouldn’t mind selling you the stuff,” said Snadder. “But orders is
orders, you know.”
That remark was exactly what Frank was waiting to hear--an intimation
that some one else had something to do with the looting of their cabin
while they were away.
“What became of Jeek--did he go over to his own camp after you left
ours?” Frank pursued his questions again.
“Yep. No use to come with us, you know,” Snadder was chuckling very
happily. He felt no fear of carrying on the conversation further, so
he continued: “Pretty nice plan we laid out, eh? Coming right along to
this shack and letting you trail us through the snow. And we didn’t
bother you one bit when you rushed in here to get us.”
All four of the boys huddled in a close space in the small hole, each
looking upward, two of them with their weapons ready for action,
and, while the talk went on, gaining additional information at every
sentence.
“You two fellows ought to be willing to let us out of here for a little
cash, and also let us have our stuff back,” Frank called up to them
after a few moments of silence.
“How much you got?” Blinky blurted out before he was stopped by
Snadder. This, too, gave them a lead--that Blinky would be willing to
listen to a cash offer from the boys, and, maybe, break ranks with the
others.
“Awful sorry, boys, that we can’t take any money right now,” Snadder
broke in, to interrupt Blinky. “You see, we’ll get your money in the
long run, anyhow. Jeek wants you to pay for his dog, and I wouldn’t be
surprised if the price ain’t gone up now.”
The young leader of the camping expedition had guessed the situation
perfectly. Jeek wanted money, and he had contrived this method of
extorting it from them. It was nothing less than extortion, obtaining
money from him under duress.
“What stuff did Jeek take with him?” Frank asked. “Of course, he must
have taken some of the stuff and given you fellows the rest of it.”
“You’re an inquisitive young fellow,” came back Snadder. “Why don’t you
think he’d trust that stuff with us?”
Nice parrying this was on the part of the tramp, who, as has been said,
was not possessed of a poorly working mind at all. He was not quite the
lowest form of hobo, but might have done better for himself if led into
other channels in the years past.
“My guess is that he took the food and the lamps,” said Frank, essaying
a little laugh in order to relieve any tension which might exist,
“and you fellows took the tableware. But he really should have let you
have the food, too, because you’ve got to have it over here to feed
yourselves and your prisoners.”
“Haw! Haw! Haw!” It was a big gruff laugh, but one of mirth that
Snadder let out, while Blinky also whined a little laugh as if he might
be afraid to let out the force of his lungs.
“Say, boys,” said Snadder when he ceased laughing, “that’s real funny.
Do you know, we ain’t going to feed any prisoners. That’s orders. We’ve
got enough for a snack for ourselves, excepting coffee, but we can get
along all right with snow to drink.”
Orders? Then, it had been planned that the boys might follow along
the trail. Of course, it was! Was it not as plain as day that no fire
was built in the cabin, that this particular one, specially prepared
for just such a trick as this, had been used, and that Jeek, in all
probability, knew where it was and its excellent fitness for trapping
people? Certain it was that the hole had not been dug for this
particular bit of work.
There was silence for a time, the boys standing in the hole, unable to
carry on a conversation because of the fear of being overheard, while
the two guards above probably sat on the floor by the door.
“Getting cold down there?” finally Snadder called out. “We’re going
out in front and build a fire for ourselves. Sorry we can’t have you
come along.”
The boys heard the two tramps go through the door, and felt the rush
of cold air when the door was left open. Until this time they had not
realized it was cold.
“Can’t we scale this wall and get out?” Frank whispered to his chums.
As quickly as the thought was expressed, two of the boys stooped
and threw Frank on their shoulders, thinking they might toss him to
the top of the hold before these men came back. The plan, instantly
crystallizing into action, was to have a rifle on them before they
could defend themselves.
It was too late. Just as Frank’s arm went up to reach for the ground,
a gun butt came down with a sharp crack across his hand, and with a
little cry of pain, Frank dropped again into the hole.
“Stay down there quietlike,” snapped Snadder. “Don’t try any funny
tricks. Blinky,” he called to his partner, “you build that fire and
I’ll watch these slippery kids.”
It had been a chance worth taking, and nothing was left but to figure
on some other way of getting out.
Night had evidently fallen, for no light came through the opening from
above, and after a short while the prisoners noticed the yellow light
of fire above their heads, indicating that Blinky had made good as a
builder of a campfire.
The two tramps changed watch all night, one warming while the other
watched. Down in the hole, partially protected from the down rush of
the wind, the boys huddled close together, keeping each other warm,
snatching bits of sleep as well as they could in their uncomfortable
positions.
Finally morning came, and a chill one it was. They saw the first faint
rays of light as the sun came over the tops of the mountains to light
up the valley in which this shack was located.
“Well, boys,” called Snadder, “wake yet? Have a good night’s rest?
We’re going to get a little breakfast ready now. It won’t amount to
much without coffee, but the boss will be along in a little while.”
“Is Jeek coming over to collect his money?” called Frank.
The tramp affirmed his previous statement. So, as they felt the pangs
of hunger and as their tongues rolled around their mouths in their
longing for water, the lads waited for the coming of the leader of this
gang.
It was not a long time to wait. They heard the welcoming calls of the
two tramps, one of them from the door and the other from somewhere
outside. Jeek, big and burly, they could hear exchanging gruff morning
greetings, and watched for him to come to the edge of the pit. But he
did not. Too wary, he stood back a distance.
“How you boys feel this morning?” he called. “Thought you could get
away with your rough stuff, eh? Can’t fool with Fordham Jeek, boys. But
I can’t blame you for your ignorance. You just didn’t know any better.”
The boys held their tongues. Frank wondered how soon something would be
said about the dog, but there was no more than a moment wanted by Jeek.
“You boys ready to pay for my dog?” he called. “Price is two hundred
and fifty, cash, and you get your stuff back, maybe.”
“What makes the price of the dog go up?” called Frank.
“All the traffic will bear, young fellow. You’re in a hole right now,
and when a fellow’s in a hole he usually has to pay. How about it? Is
it a bargain?”
Lanky nudged Frank and shook his head in the negative. But there was no
necessity for his doing that.
“No, I’m not going to pay for that dog. It doesn’t matter what you
do with us, you don’t get paid for the dog.” Frank stood his ground
firmly.
Jeek made no reply to the boys. Instead, they heard him giving
instructions to Snadder and Blinky. The instructions were for these two
to go back to the Jeek camp, get plenty to eat, and hurry back to this
place to hold guard a while longer. Then he gave his attention to the
boys in the hole.
“You kids might think you’re mighty wise, but you ain’t. If you had
been you wouldn’t have come here. So, that’s that. Now, I say you’re
going to pay for that dog or you’re going to stay here longer than you
want. And you needn’t get any fancy ideas in your head that you’re
going to escape, because you ain’t.”
The boys kept silence after Jeek had spoken, the others waiting for
their leader, Frank, to carry on any negotiations.
“And, what’s more,” Jeek went on after a moment of waiting, “you’re not
going to get nothing to eat nor nothing to drink until you’ve changed
your bull-headed minds. Just put that down in your little notebook!”