AN INSOLENT DEMAND
A dangerous glitter in the man's eyes showed that Clay's question was
not at all to his liking.
"How them canoes got here is none of your business," he answered
emphatically, "and I don't want no argument about it. Step lively now in
the direction of that mill."
The mask was off, and the boys realized that they were prisoners. Their
captor's sullen features and the gun that he bore on his shoulder
forbade any attempt at escape.
With sinking hearts they trudged along the shore a few feet in advance
of the ruffian. They had no doubt that their companions were confined in
the mill, and it was some consolation to know they were going to join
them. Why they had been captured at all, and what object was to be
gained by it was a mystery too deep for comprehension.
From time to time the tramp uttered a brief order, and in this way he
drove the boys before him, across the sluiceway, and then over the
rickety floor of the mill to the lower corner. He unbolted the closet
door and shoved them roughly in.
It was not by any means a joyful reunion for the Jolly Rovers, but they
were very glad to be together again nevertheless. A crevice in the door
admitted some light to the closet, and at the same time afforded a view
of Mr. Moxley, who was then sitting on the sawdust heap, examining the
contents of his grain bag.
He drew out two dead chickens, half a dozen ears of corn, and a quantity
of apples and pears--a sure proof that he had secretly been plundering
some farmer. He began to munch one of the apples, and the boys took
advantage of the opportunity to narrate their adventures in low,
whispered tones.
When all had been told the mystery was no nearer solution than
before--in fact it was even more complex.
"I can't imagine why this fellow has gone to such trouble and risk to
capture us all," said Ned. "I hardly think he will do any harm. We must
wait patiently and see what happens."
"I can't understand that warning Nugget and I received," added Clay. "I
hope the man will keep his word and help us out of this scrape."
"I wouldn't count on that," replied Ned; "and yet there may be more in
it than we suppose."
"Hush!" whispered Randy with his eyes to the crevice. "Here comes the
tramp."
Moxley rose and approached the closet. He partially opened the door, and
then walked back a few paces behind one of the logs.
"Now step out, you chaps," he commanded sternly. "I have a little
business to attend to, and I want it done quietly."
The boys tremblingly obeyed, and when they were grouped before the door
the ruffian added, "Now go through your pockets and lay everything you
have on this log. See that you don't keep anything back."
It was hard to submit to this audacious robbery, but there was no
alternative. Moxley had the gun in his hands.
The boys deposited all they had about them on the log--watches, money,
keys, fishing tackle, and handkerchiefs. The fellow made them turn every
pocket inside out, and when he was satisfied that all were empty he
appropriated the money, watches, and keys. The other articles he
contemptuously rejected, and allowed the boys to take them back.
Then he drove his prisoners into the closet and bolted the door--much to
their surprise and consternation, for they had confidently expected to
be turned loose.
"No racket now," he growled. "I ain't going so far away but what I kin
hear you. It won't do to yell or kick, for the door is too strong to
break, and there ain't another living creature within a mile."
He tramped heavily across the floor and left the mill.
The loss of their valuables had made the boys so angry and indignant
that they were little inclined to regard the warning. They soon came to
the conclusion, however, that escape was really impossible.
The door was stoutly built, and rendered still stronger by heavy cross
bars. The hinges and the bolts were massive. The combined efforts of all
four failed to make any impression, and they soon abandoned the attempt.
"Great Cæsar! I see it all now," exclaimed Ned suddenly. "That
scoundrel is going to carry off our canoes, and leave us to get out the
best way we can!"
No one doubted that Ned was right. The boys stared at each other in
speechless consternation.
It was bad enough to lose their watches and money, but now they were
about to be deprived of everything--clothes, canoes, and tent. It meant
the sudden termination of the cruise, and an ignominious return home.
"Let's pound and kick with all our might," suggested Clay. "The door
can't hold out forever."
Before any one could reply a heavy tread was heard, and looking through
the crevice Ned made the startling announcement that the ruffian had
returned.
The boys hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry at this piece of news.
They feared a greater misfortune than the loss of all their property.
Crowding close to the crevice--which extended upward the length of the
door--they peered eagerly into the room. Moxley had not returned empty
handed. He had employed his brief absence in rifling the canoes, and was
laden with their entire contents, excepting the dishes and the fishing
rods.
He deposited his burden on the sawdust and sat down beside it. Very
slowly and attentively he ransacked the bags of clothes, the packets of
provisions, and the little japanned tin boxes in which the boys kept
paper and envelopes, stamps, fishing tackle, and various other articles.
Then he took the empty grain sack and stuffed it with the clothes, and a
large portion of the provisions. He appropriated all the stamps he could
find, and pushed the tin boxes aside.
Having completed his arrangements he walked over to the closet and
opened the door. Then he sat down on a log facing the boys with his gun
across his knee.
"I think I have you chaps pretty tight," he said, wrinkling his face
into an ugly smile. "I have a very particular engagement about twenty
miles from here, and it was my first intention to start away this
morning. But seein' as the rain is still coming down I have changed my
mind and will give you the pleasure of my company fur a few hours
longer.
"The fact is I've taken quite a fancy to you chaps--quite a decided
fancy. There's one young gentleman in your party I'm 'specially anxious
to see. I've had a cherished memento of him fur the last ten days, and
it's quite a load on my mind because I haven't given him anything in
return. It keeps me from sleepin' sound at nights."
Here Mr. Moxley threw out his right leg, and turned the trousers up a
few inches, revealing half a dozen red scars on his ankle.
"That's the memento I speak of," he said. "It's a purty one, isn't it?"
There was a breathless pause. The boys turned pale before the ferocious
glance of the scoundrel. The mystery was clear as daylight now.
Their captor was none other than Bug Batters's desperate companion. From
sheer love of revenge he must have been tracking the Jolly Rovers ever
since that momentous night nearly two weeks previous.
Moxley gloated over the consternation and the dread that were depicted
on the faces of his prisoners. He did not speak for a moment, but gazed
at the boys with a cruel smile that was more terrible than a
manifestation of anger.
"Well," he said finally, "I reckon you know who I am by this time. I'll
give you just five minutes to point out the lad who peppered me with
salt. If you're sensible chaps you'll do it without hesitation. If you
try to make a fool out of me I'll serve you all the same way I intend to
serve him. I'm a fair minded man, and don't want to punish the innocent
with the guilty if I kin help it."
The boys looked at one another without speaking. If Randy was a shade
paler than the others it escaped the notice of Mr. Moxley, although he
was scanning all the faces intently, with a view to picking out the
guilty one by his own powers of perception.
"The allotted time is slipping away," he said grimly. "The right party
had better speak up quick. Oh! you needn't look out of the windows. No
one comes near this place in the summer, and there ain't a house within
three quarters of a mile. I've got you right in my power, and there
ain't no hope of escape."
"I hardly think you will get the information you want," said Ned in a
firm but husky voice. "I for one shan't tell you, and I advise my
friends to do the same. It's not likely we would put one of our
companions in your power after the threats you have made. If you wish to
avoid trouble in the future you will be satisfied with robbing us, and
will let us go without any worse treatment. As for the shooting--no one
was to blame but yourself. You had no business to attack our camp that
night."