CHAPTER XXIV.

THE OASIS IN THE QUAKING BOG.

Before they made any sort of a start upon what would probably be the

last leg of their hunt, Thad believed it would be only a wise move if he

and the sheriff had a little consultation with the man who was guiding

them to where he believed the lair of the fugitive thief lay.

Thad had always found that a good understanding in the start was more

than half the battle. It often prevented serious complications from

arising, and mistakes being committed that were apt to prove fatal to

success.

Accordingly he spoke to Alligator Smith along that line.

“A little hold-up right here and now won’t interfere with our hopes of

success, will it, Tom Smith?” was the way he put it.

“Reckon as how it ain’t calkerlated tuh do theh same, suh,” came the

reply; for the alligator-skin collector had learned to have considerable

respect for this thoughtful and resourceful lad who was serving as

scout-master in the absence of Doctor Philander Hobbs, the real head of

the troop.

“Wait a little bit then, till I get the sheriff alongside,” added Thad.

“I think we ought to have an understanding, so there’ll be no need of

much whispering later on, when it might upset our calculations to

indulge that way.”

“Seems like yuh mout be k’rect thar, son,” admitted the other, readily,

and possibly wondering how it was that this boy seemed to think of

everything.

The sheriff quickly joined them when he saw that something was in the

wind. He too had been more or less impressed by the quiet sense of

ability shown by this Northern lad, who while serving as a leader among

his fellows did not attempt any of the swagger that many lads could not

help displaying.

“Before we start off again, Mr. Sheriff, we ought to find out a little

more of this business, it seems to me,” Thad began; “and especially

about the lay of the land; what sort of a shack this is; and how we’d

better creep up on the same so as to take the man by surprise, and at

the same time not give him any chance to endanger the life of the little

girl; because if he’s the sort of rascal they say, he might be small

enough to hold her up as a sort of shield from our guns, and threaten

all sorts of terrible things unless we went away and left him alone.”

“I’ve known that same to be done, suh,” agreed the official, nodding his

head as though he agreed with what Thad said. “And let me say that I

understand jest how ye must feel ’bout it. We’ve butted in to this game,

an’ it’s on’y right an’ proper as how we ought to try an’ suit our

purposes to yourn. So, whatever ye reckon on as agreeable, suh, ye’ll

find us atryin’ to meet up with ye.”

Thad gave him a grateful look; for, truth to tell it was the fear lest

some unexpected and unprepared-for peril threaten the girl before they

could capture the desperate man, that had been worrying him.

He knew that doubtless among the members of this hastily summoned

sheriff’s posse there must be a number of hotheads, men or boys who were

so bent on accomplishing something that would serve the ends of justice

that, given half a chance and they would spring forward, risking their

lives recklessly in the hope of being selected by fate as the one to

pull the rascal down.

Many a brilliant plan, Thad knew, had been spoiled by just such well

meaning but thoughtless individuals. And he was trying to figure it out

how the chances for having such a blunder occur might be greatly

reduced, if not cut out altogether.

In fact, he had it in his mind that since the posse now virtually

controlled the avenue of escape from the island, it might be well for

the guide and himself, say, to leave the others near by, and creeping

along, try to find out what Jasper might be doing.

And deep down in his heart Thad possibly was hoping that if this were

undertaken a glorious chance might arise whereby he could manage to get

in communication with the girl, and even stand by to protect her while

Tom Smith went for the rest; or else even coax her to flee with him.

The very thought gave Thad a thrill of strange delight; now that the

crisis was so very near, and he must soon learn the truth, he had great

difficulty in repressing his eagerness, and displaying his customary

caution, when his heart was urging him to more hasty action.

“Why,” said the swamp hunter, as he screwed up his forehead in a way he

had of doing when trying to “cudgel his brains,” as the saying is,

“’bout all I remembers o’ thet shack she war on’y made up outen slabs

an’ ther like; an’ seems tuh me like theh w’ar an tear o’ years’d like

as not make it look sick. But then, mebbe as how this heah Jasper he

done tote some more stuff acrost, an’ patched theh cabin up so hit’d

shed water like.”

“Does it lie among the trees?” asked Thad

“It sure does, suh,” replied the other.

“How long would it take us to get there from here?” the boy went on to

inquire.

“If so be we started tuh walk reg’lar-like, we’d be thar in three

minutes I done reckon,” answered Tom Smith.

“So close as that,” muttered the sheriff; “I hope then, none of my posse

happens to let out a bark or a sneeze; seems like that’d be heard if a

feller happened to be awake an’ listenin’ like.”

On his part Thad was more concerned about Bumpus than any of the others;

because in the past on more occasions than one the fat scout had, as

Giraffe expressed it, “knocked the fat into the fire,” by some

unexpected act. Which explained in part why the scout-master was wild to

accomplish something looking to the rescue of the little girl before any

such accident could occur.

Why, it had come to such a pass among the scouts that if a fellow wanted

to be very particular about some group picture he hoped to snap off, he

kept his eye severely on Bumpus all the while; for if he could make sure

that the clumsy member of the patrol were all right, he had little fear

about the rest. Bumpus had ruined many a picture by some stumble, or

upheaval that was not gratifying to the artist.

“I’m going to ask a favor of you, Mr. Sheriff,” said Thad, suddenly, as

he leaned forward, the better to speak in the other’s ear.

“Then spit her out, son,” replied the officer, though he looked rather

surprised, and somewhat disappointed, just as if he suspected along what

lines this request on the part of the scout might lie; “as I said

before, this heah is more your game than it is ourn, an’ I’m willin’ to

let ye have the right o’ way.”

“Would you care very much if Tom Smith and myself crept on ahead, to see

how the ground lay?” asked Thad, determined to take advantage of the

sheriff’s kindness while the other was in a mood to accommodate him.

The officer glanced toward the guide.

“Would you think that to be a good play, Tom?” he asked; “’case if ye

do, I ain’t got a wo’d to say agin the same. This youngster beats my

time, an’ I’m right glad I run up ag’inst him. Neveh did have much use

fo’ Yankees sense they run off my ole man’s slaves yeahs an’ yeahs ago,

leavin’ the fambly po’ as church mice; but if they raise his breed up

thar, I’ve got to change my ideas, that’s all. How about that move, Tom

Smith: be ye of theh same mind as him.”

Now, possibly the guide had not up to then even considered such a move;

but he was quick to see the wisdom of it, since Thad had brought the

matter up. He was also too shrewd an old chap to disclose his ignorance;

and accordingly he made out that he had himself been considering such

benefits as might come to them from a spying expedition, but through a

sense of modesty had refrained from mentioning it thus far.

“Wanted tuh say sumpin like thet myself, Shurff, but didn’t know jest

how yuh mout take hit,” he observed, complacently; “but sense Thad, he

opens the ijee, sot me down as favorin’ theh same.”

“Oh! all right then, just as you figger, son,” the sheriff went on to

say, turning once more to the young scout-master; “but take us along as

fur as ye dar, Smith; and fix it with me so as how if ye need help

suddent-like we’ll know it’s time to git busy.”

Thad felt almost like shaking the hand of the sheriff again and again,

he was so delighted with the readiness with which the other had fallen

in with his scheme.

Under similar conditions there were many pigheaded officials, so

inflated with a sense of their own importance, that nothing could have

induced them to yield one atom of their authority in a case like this.

They would have insisted on taking the lead, and running things as they

pleased, no matter if failure resulted through their recklessness.

“We’ll give a loud whistle if we get in any trouble, and want you to

rush up with the whole posse,” he said, quickly, fearing that unless he

clinched the bargain immediately the sheriff might repent himself of

having made it.

“No need of tellin’ ye to be keerful, son,” continued the other, as Thad

and the old swamp guide prepared to leave the party; “because I reckons

as how ye jest couldn’t be anything else if ye tried. Yes, this heah

scout business hes cotchcd my fancy right smart, an’ I ’spect to look

into the same later on. Good luck, Thad, and heah’s wishin’ she may turn

out to be all ye hopes fo’!”

That told the boy the sheriff had a good heart, even if his business was

that of hunting desperate men, and his face had what would appear to be

a hard look.

None of the other scouts took occasion to say a single word, because

they had not been asked to share in the consultation. But when they saw

Thad and Alligator Smith preparing to move on ahead, a short time later,

leaving the rest of the posse in hiding, they could easily guess—all but

Bumpus perhaps, and he afterwards got his information from Bob White in

the lowest of whispers—what lured the pair forward.

So they simply took it out in waving their hands to Thad when he turned

his head to look back; as though in this mute fashion they might waft

after him their very best wishes for success.

After which the boys settled down to count the minutes, which would of

course drag as though each one were weighted with lead; hoping that at

any time they might hear the welcome “cooee,” or whistle that had come

to be known among them as a signal that their presence was needed in hot

haste.

And it need hardly be stated that every fellow belonging to the Silver

Fox Patrol held himself in readiness to make the utmost speed in case

such a call came from their leader.

So the utmost silence reigned over that island oasis amidst the great

quaking bog; now and then some bird would give utterance to a caw or a

croak; but beyond this not a sound could be heard, as they crouched

there, wishing it would come to an end, and something in the way of

excitement follow.

The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp · 第 24 / 28 章