STRANDED
“Say, he can travel some!” exclaimed Dick, looking back over his
shoulders when they had gone some distance. The hermit was still
crashing through the underbrush after them.
“He sure can!” agreed Tom. “I would hardly believe that a man as old as
he seems to be could be so spry on his feet.”
“He’s probably lived in the woods all his life,” explained Jack, as he
limped along, “and he’s like an Indian. Are we getting away from him?”
“Well, we’re holding our own,” said Tom, as he looked back. “My! but
he’s a savage-looking chap, though.”
On hurried the boys, anxious only, for the time being, to get to their
boat and leave the angry hermit far behind.
“Wait ’till I catch you! Wait ’till I get hold of you!” the old man
cried. “Young rapscallions! trying to do me out of the treasure I have
looked for so long. Wait ’till I get you!”
“I hope he never does,” murmured Dick.
“That’s right,” agreed Bert.
They had come, now, to the path leading along the edge of the river,
and it was easier traveling for them. So, also, it was for the hermit,
and he made better speed too.
“We can’t seem to shake him off!” complained Jack.
“How about a trick?” asked Bert. “Can’t we make a spurt, get ahead of
him, and then hide at one side of the path until he gets past?”
“I don’t believe so,” replied Tom. “He knows this path and these woods
like a book, and he’d spy out our hiding place in a minute. Besides, if
we did give him the slip, he might go on until he came to our boat, and
then it would be all day with us.”
“How do you mean?” asked Dick.
“Why he’d set it adrift, or do some damage to it so we couldn’t run it.
No, the only thing to do is to keep on until we outdistance him, and
then jump into the boat and make a quick getaway.”
“I guess that’s right,” sighed Jack. “I’ll try to put on a little more
speed, but my leg hurts like the mischief for some reason or other. I
thought it was better, but I must have given it a wrench.”
“Take it as easy as you can,” advised Tom, but Jack did not spare
himself, and limped on. Slipping, sometimes sliding, and often
stumbling, the four chums hurried along the path, with the relentless
hermit coming after them.
“I suppose this ends our chances of finding the treasure in the old
mill,” said Bert, when they had covered nearly the remaining distance
to the boat.
“I don’t see why,” spoke Tom.
“We won’t dare risk going there again. He’d be sure to be on the watch
for us.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied our hero. “He can’t always stay in the
mill, and we may strike a time when he goes away, as we did to-day. I’m
not going to give up so soon. I want to see what that treasure looks
like, if it’s there. I’m going to chance it again very soon, even if
you fellows don’t.”
“Oh, we’ll be with you, of course,” declared Bert.
“Sure,” assented Jack, and Dick nodded to show that he, too, would not
desert.
A turn in the path now hid the old hermit from sight, but they could
still hear him coming on, muttering threats and calling them names for
interfering in his search for the hidden wealth.
“It seems to me he’s farther back,” spoke Tom, listening with a
critical ear to the progress of the man behind them.
“It does seem so,” agreed Jack. “I hope so, for I’m about all in.”
They slackened their speed, and all listened intently. It was so, they
could scarcely hear the approach of old Wallace now.
“He’s giving up!” exclaimed Dick.
“Don’t be too sure,” Tom advised them. “He may be playing a trick on
us. Creeping up on us without making much noise.”
“Or taking a short cut, as Skeel and those two fellows did that day,”
added Bert.
“Come on!” urged Jack. “We don’t want to be caught napping. Hurry,
fellows!”
“Oh, I think we can afford to take it a bit easy,” said Tom, who felt
sorry for his roommate. There was a look of pain on Jack’s face, and it
was evident that the strain was telling on him. Still he was game.
“Do you think it’s safe?” asked Bert.
“We’ll take a chance,” decided Tom. “We’re off his property now, and he
can’t touch us. We can defy him, and all he can do is to call names.
They won’t hurt us.”
“He can shoot!” exclaimed Dick, remembering the gun.
“I don’t believe he’d dare,” was Tom’s opinion. “Anyhow, our boat’s
just around that bend, and we can soon reach it. Slow up, fellows,” he
added.
They did, when it was evident, from careful listening, that the hermit
had either given up the pursuit, or was coming on so slowly that they
could easily distance him by a spurt. And, as Tom had said, they had
left their boat around the next bend of the river bank.
“Whew!” exclaimed Bert, wiping his face with his handkerchief, “that
was warm work while it lasted.”
“And we didn’t really find out anything,” added Jack.
“No, but we will!” exclaimed Tom, with conviction. “I’m not going to
give up so easily.”
“Hurray!” cheered Jack. “Never say die! Don’t give up the ship! Bravo,
Tom!”
“And we’re all with you,” added Dick, who had never before participated
in such exciting adventures.
They had slowed down to a walk now, and Jack felt the relief to his
injured leg, which was not so nearly healed as he had hoped. There were
no further sounds of pursuit, and they all breathed easier, even though
they realized that the hermit would have no right to attack them, as
they were on neutral ground.
“I wish we hadn’t eaten all our lunch!” sighed Dick, as they neared the
place where they had tied their boat.
“I guess there is some left, in one of the lockers,” spoke Tom. “I
brought along a little extra supply, for I thought we might be hungry
on the way back.”
“Bless you for that my son,” exclaimed Jack, half tragically. “I, too,
would fain pick a morsel.”
“It’ll be a mighty small morsel,” laughed Tom, “for I didn’t pack much.”
“Anyhow we can sit in the boat and rest,” said Bert. “I’m fagged out.”
“I guess we all are,” declared Tom.
He was in the lead, and, as he neared the clump of bushes on the bank,
that hid his boat from view, he quickened his pace. The others pressed
on after him, and, a moment later they heard a surprised exclamation
from Tom.
“What’s the matter?” called Jack. “Did you hurt yourself, old man?”
“No, but look here, fellows, our boat is gone!”
“Gone!”
“The boat gone!”
“Isn’t she there?”
In turn Jack, Dick and Bert gave voice to these words.
“It’s clean gone!” gasped Tom.
The three chums pressed close to his side and all four gazed at the
spot where the _Tag_ had been tied. She was not there, and a glance
down the stream did not disclose her.
“Gone!” exclaimed Jack. “It can’t be possible.”
“But it _is_ possible!” exclaimed Tom. “Can’t you see that she isn’t
here?”
“Maybe this isn’t the place where you tied her,” suggested Dick.
“Certainly it is. This is the very old stump that I wound the rope
about.”
“Maybe it came untied and the boat drifted away,” was Jack’s
contribution.
“The kind of a knot I made doesn’t come loose,” declared Tom, and his
chums knew he was seaman enough to make this a certainty.
“Then someone has taken her!” declared Bert. “Someone has stolen your
boat, Tom. We’re stranded!”