Left alone in the thicket at the head of the cove, Case and Jule waited
for some time for the appearance of Captain Joe. While not actually
afraid of any attack upon themselves in that quiet place, they much
preferred leaving the bulldog on watch when they went to sleep.
“Captain Joe ought to be here before long,” Case observed searching the
thickets with his eyes in the hope of discerning the bulky form of the
dog. “It is a rare thing for him to go away alone, but when he has done
so in the past he soon returns.”
“I wish he’d come back right now,” Jule replied, “I’m so sleepy I
couldn’t eat a breakfast if we had one. Look here, Case,” he went on,
“why is it that we always have such infernal bad luck when we start out
on a river trip? Its been night-and-day trouble ever since we left
Pittsburgh.”
“Yes,” Case replied, “and it was night-and-day trouble on the Amazon,
and on the Columbia, and on the Colorado, and on the Mississippi, and on
the St. Lawrence. I’ll tell you what I think we ought to do,” he
continued with a grin, “we ought to take an aeroplane along so we could
mount up into the blue sky when things got mixed.”
“I wouldn’t mind being several miles up in the blue sky right now,” Jule
laughed, “if I could find a nice soft cloud to sleep on. They look like
feather beds, don’t they?” he asked, pointing to wandering clouds in the
sky some of them tipped with the early sunlight.
“They certainly do,” answered Case, “but I’m afraid you wouldn’t find
them very soft or very dry. In fact, you’d fall right through and
probably tumble into the river. Did it ever occur to you,” he went on,
“that a cloud is a great big bluff? It looks solid and handsome, and all
that, from the surface of the earth, but it’s nothing but a great big
fog.”
“I never lost much time considering clouds, Jule replied. “Suppose you
go out into the woods and see if you can’t find Captain Joe.”
“No use to look for him,” Case replied, “if he’s got the trail of a
rabbit, he’ll run from now until next week at two o’clock.”
“Then let’s go to sleep,” Jule proposed. “We can lie right down here in
the thicket, and if anyone should come poking around, they wouldn’t be
able to see us. We didn’t have any sleep last night at all, you know.”
“I don’t know what’s the matter with the bunch, anyway,” Case said,
rather crossly. “Clay goes off to get breakfast and doesn’t come back,
and Alex goes out to get fish and gets chased off by a coal tow, and
Captain Joe runs away and doesn’t return!”
“Alex ought to be here by this time,” Jule complained. “There’s plenty
to eat on board the _Rambler_, so if Clay doesn’t find any provisions we
won’t go hungry. Everything seems to be going wrong.”
“Moved and supported that we go to sleep,” Case replied. “The ayes have
it! Motion prevails! You just watch now and see me flop down here in the
bushes. I’m going to sleep a week!”
“All right!” Jule answered with a yawn. “When it comes to sleeping, you
haven’t got anything on me.”
“And when we wake up,” Case continued, “we’ll see the _Rambler_ riding
out there in the cove, with Alex cooking the catfish a la Indian, and
Clay exhibiting the eggs and milk he bought at some romantic farm
house.”
“Go to sleep and dream all that!” Jule snorted.
The boys lay down on the beds of leaves which they had prepared in the
undergrowth and were soon sound asleep. After all, they had nothing
serious to worry over, for they both believed that a situation something
like that forecast by Case would present itself when they awoke.
The sun rising over the river cast long lances of light into the thicket
where they lay. The cool breeze of the morning stirred the leaves about
them like a lullaby. The birds darted and sang in the sweet air. The
scene was as peaceful and pastoral as one might well imagine.
But only for a time. Directly the heavy tramp of horses was heard, the
rattling of rings and the champing of bits.
The riders, a score or more, advanced through the woods to the cove and
halted on the east shore. There they tied their horses to trees and
threw themselves upon the ground. They were sturdy men, clean-limbed,
alert, with fierce eyes and determined faces.
All unconscious of the presence of the riders, the boys slept on.
Presently a lean hound belonging to the company ran sniffing and
snarling around to the thicket where Case and Jule lay. There he sat up
such a baying as might have awakened the Seven Sleepers.
The two boys sleepily rubbed their eyes and looked about. It seemed to
them at first that Captain Joe had returned, but they soon saw the
difference between the lean hound and the white bulldog.
“What’s got into your dog, Peck?” one of the men asked.
“He’s found something in the bushes.”
“The consarned brute is always finding something in the bushes, when we
want to keep under cover!” snarled the other man.
“Look here, Hart,” Peck said sternly, “you let the dog alone. He’s done
us many a good turn in his time, and he’s likely to do more. I wasn’t
thinking about the dog at all,” Peck went on. “Just take a couple of
sniffs at the air and see if you can locate that wood fire.”
“There surely is a fire hereabouts!” Hart answered in a conciliating
tone. “Perhaps there are tramps here and the dog has come and caught
them. If so, we’ll send them about their business.”
The two men arose, passed around the cove and soon came to the thicket
where Case and Jule were struggling to their feet rubbing their eyes
sleepily as they did so.
“Hello here!” Hart exclaimed. “This seems to be quite a find.”
The two boys, now thoroughly awake, reached for their automatics as they
gained their feet. The men’s faces glared down upon them sinister and
suspicious.
They glanced eagerly about hoping to see the _Rambler_ riding in the
cove but, as the reader understands, the motor boat was not there. Clay
had not returned and the fire built for the purpose of cooking the fish
had burned down to embers.
“None of that, boys!” Peck threatened as Case and Jule reached their
hands back to their hip pockets. “You don’t have to draw any guns on
us.”
“If you try it,” Hart cut in angrily, “you’ll get a taste of good birch
rods. We have no time to fool with boys.”
By this time the men lounging on the bank of the cove were on their
feet, taking note of what was going on near the fire. Seeing their
companions talking with two boys who seemed to them to be tramps, they
dropped back to the ground again without interest.
A tall, rather pleasant looking man however soon left the group and
approached the place where the boys were standing.
“What seems to be the trouble, Peck,” he asked as he drew near.
“Well, Ball,” Peck answered, “we seem to have come upon two boy tramps.
They’re harmless enough, I guess.”
“Where are you going, boys?” Ball asked.
“Waiting for our chums to come back with the boat,” answered Case.
“So you’ve got a boat have you?” Hart exclaimed.
At the mention of a boat, Ball leaned forward and eyed the boys
critically, a suspicious gleam in his eyes.
“Where is the boat now?” he asked.
“Down the river,” was the reply.
“You see,” Jule went on, helping Case to answer the question, “one of
the boys went out to catch a fish and a coal tow chased him down. He’ll
be back directly. Ought to be here now.”
“What kind of a boat is it?” asked Ball.
“Motor boat,” replied Case.
Ball beckoned Peck and Hall a short distance away and the three stood
for some moments in earnest conversation.
“Oh, I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with the boys,” Peck was
heard to say. “No use to trouble them.”
“We can’t afford to take any chances,” Hart replied. “Just where did you
see that motor boat?” he went on turning to Peck.
“Some distance up the river,” was the reply. “I went out to a bar where
several coal barges had stranded to see if the pirates had had anything
to do with the trouble, and there I saw a motor boat.”
“Did you talk with the boys?” Peck asked.
“Yes,” Peck answered, “I talked with the boys, and they talked straight
enough, but I didn’t like their suspicious actions. They couldn’t give
any account of themselves, except that they were going down the river
just for the fun of the thing. Besides, I’m certain they heard the men
talking and the horses fussing on the bank. I saw them looking that way
several times. I’m rather afraid of them!”
“Did they ask you a lot of questions?” demanded Hart.
“Why,” was the reply, “I told them we were out after the river pirates,
and they seemed satisfied with that.”
“It seems to me,” Hart insisted, “that we ought not to turn these boys
loose. I just believe they’re spies sent here by our enemies. It can’t
do any harm to take charge of them for a little while, anyway.”
“Still, this motor boat,” Peck suggested, “is a mighty fine craft, and
these boys appear to me to belong to wealthy families. The boat will
soon be back here, if what the boys say is true, and then inquiries will
be made, and the first thing we know the District Attorney will have
every one of our names before the grand jury.”
“You may be right,” Hart said reluctantly, “and if I thought the boys
would go on about their business as soon as the boat returns, I’d be in
favor of letting them alone, but I don’t believe they will. They’ll just
sneak and pry around here until they get us into trouble.”
“Perhaps we’d better put the whole matter up to the others,” suggested
Ball, “then, whatever action is taken, we can’t be blamed.”
“Now see here, fellows,” Peck exclaimed, “there are quite a number of
reckless fellows in that company over there, and I’m afraid they
wouldn’t take into consideration the fact that they are dealing with
little boys. Now I’ll tell you what I propose.
“If you think best, I’ll take the boys up to the house and leave them
there with the old woman. Then we’ll scatter, and by the time the boys
get back with their friends, the country will be as peaceful as a stony
farm in Massachusetts.”
“That will be all right,” Hart agreed, “provided some of us remain here
and take charge of the other boys when they return.”
“Yes, I think that advisable,” Peck admitted. “Now, I’ll tell you what
you do, Ball, and perhaps you’d better go with him, Hart—you take these
boys over to my place and leave them there with instructions to the old
lady to keep them safe and sound until I get back. While you’re gone.
I’ll dismiss the company and stay on watch here.”
“That’s a good idea!” Ball declared. “We don’t mean any harm to these
boys, but we certainly must keep track of them until they get out of the
country. If their friends come back here and seem to be all right, we’ll
pack them all off in their own boat, and wish them good luck on their
trip down the river. We can’t be too careful, you know.”
The plan mapped out in this conversation was carried out. Case and Jule
were marched to the farm house where Clay had taken his breakfast and
locked up in a room guarded by the motherly old lady who had been so
kind to Clay. Dismayed but not disheartened at the sudden change of
fortune, the boys sat down on rude chairs in their not very secure
prison and regarded each other with humorous glances.
“And when we wake up,” Jule mocked, “well see the _Rambler_ riding in
the cove and Alex cooking a catfish a la Indian at the fire! If I
couldn’t get things any straighter than you can, Case, I’d certainly go
out of the prophet business! As a forecaster of future events, you’re
about as big a frost as the weather department of the United States
Government! What does all this mean, anyway?”
“You can search me,” Case answered a little sourly. “I don’ know whether
we’re under arrest, or whether we’ve been snatched up by a choice
collection of river pirates, or stored away for ransom by whitecaps.”
“The leading impression in my mind, if you want to know,” Jule
announced, “isn’t in my mind at all; it’s in my stomach!”
“You’re always hungry!” laughed Case.
“Hungry!” repeated Jule. “The word hunger doesn’t express it. I wonder
if the old lady will give us something to eat.”
“And indeed I will!” cried a feminine voice from the other side of the
door. “Sure I will, boys! Somehow it seems to be raining boys on this
’tarnal old farm this morning!”
“Let us out,” Clay suggested, “and we’ll help you get something to eat.
You’ll want water or wood to be brought, or something of that kind. We
won’t run away.”
“I reckon my old batter pail will be empty if any more hungry lads come
up from the river,” Mrs. Peck went on, opening the door.
“Did you have one hungry boy here this morning?” asked Case.
Mrs. Peck replied in the affirmative, and Case and Jule exchanged
significant glances. They understood very well who that hungry boy was,
and, in answer to questions asked of the friendly old woman, were soon
in possession of all the facts connected with Clay’s visit to the place
and return to the river.
And while the boys were eating a generous breakfast prepared by their
kind-hearted jailor, Alex, Clay and Uncle Zeke were discussing the
possibility of reaching the _Rambler_ by the cut-off across Horseshoe
bend.
While they talked and planned two pair of black, suspicious eyes were
gazing out at them from the undergrowth on the east side of the cove,
and the dog was sniffing suspiciously in that direction.