As nearly as I could judge in our place of concealment, the big fellow,
who was the leading spirit of the conspirators, had been careful to
keep the inside line of retreat from the tar-kettle to the boat.
Of course, he expected us to retire in that direction; but when we
distanced him in the chase he had moved directly to the water-side,
while I had swept around in a much larger circle. As soon as he lost
sight of us in the thick undergrowth, which had only been cut away on a
few acres composing the picnic-grounds, he had made the shortest line
for the boats.
“Where is your boat, Wolf?” asked Waddie, who was actually trembling
with apprehension, though I could not blame him for being alarmed,
since the villains were still on his track, and still intent upon
subjecting him to the degrading ordeal.
“It lies about a quarter of a mile below yours, at the wharf,” I
replied to my trembling companion.
“What shall we do?”
“We must keep still for a little while, till we see a good chance to
reach the boat.”
“I am cold, Wolf,” said he.
Perhaps he offered this as an explanation of his shaking condition;
but, although the weather was pleasant for the season, it was still
chilly enough to render thick clothing quite comfortable. Above his
boots the poor fellow had on nothing but his shirt and pants, and the
former had been torn half-off by the wretches who persecuted him. I
took off the heavy jacket I wore, and gave it to him.
“You will be cold yourself, Wolf,” said he, with a degree of
consideration of which I did not believe him capable.
“No; I can get along very well. Put it on.”
“Thank you, Wolf; you are very kind.”
Those were amazing words to be uttered by him to me! But his father had
been even more gentle, and had apparently forgotten all about me in a
few days. He put on my coat, which fitted him very well, and I buttoned
it up to the throat for him. He declared that it “felt good”; and I
have no doubt it did, for the driving wind upon his bare shoulders
must have been anything but comfortable.
“Do you know any of those fellows?” asked Waddie.
“I do not. I heard the big fellow call one of the others Martin, but I
haven’t the least idea who any of them are. I suppose they belong on
your side of the lake, and I haven’t seen much of the fellows there
lately,” I replied.
“Do you think they belong to our institute?”
“I don’t believe they do. They are coarser, rougher fellows than the
students on either side.”
“I should like to know who they are,” added Waddie, compressing his
lips and shaking his head. “But whoever they are, if they don’t have to
suffer for this, you may set me down for a ninny.”
“I think we had better get out of the scrape before we say much about
punishing them. I am inclined to believe that big fellow will suffer
from a sore head for a few weeks to come. I cracked him hard with this
boat-hook.”
“Perhaps this sore head will enable us to find out who he is.”
“I hope so; but these fellows have been pretty cunning. I heard one of
them say they had been on the watch for you several weeks.”
“I was a fool to come ashore here.”
“I don’t know why you were, unless you suspected something of this
kind.”
“I hadn’t the remotest suspicion of anything. I don’t know of any
reason why they should wish to treat me in this manner. I haven’t done
anything to them.”
“But you don’t know who they are.”
“Well, I haven’t done anything to any fellows.”
“Are you sure of that, Waddie?”
“I don’t remember anything.”
“You don’t?” And it seemed very strange to me that he had forgotten the
facts related to me by Dick Bayard.
“No, I don’t. Do you think I would lie about it?” retorted he, in a
tone and manner which seemed quite natural to me.
“Didn’t you and some one else cowhide one of the town fellows some time
ago?”
“Oh, that was four or five weeks ago. It couldn’t have anything to do
with that.”
“Perhaps it may. These fellows say they have been on the lookout for
you for weeks.”
“I had forgotten about that,” said he, looking meditative, and, I
thought, chagrined. “But those fellows insulted me, especially a young
cub, who threatened to thrash me. I gave him a dose the next day, which
I think he will remember when he wants to be impudent to me.”
“Precisely so! And I am only surprised that you did not remember it
yourself when you were tied to that tree with the tar-kettle before
you.”
“Do you really believe that fellow is at the bottom of this affair?”
asked Waddie, knitting his brows.
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“But that fellow was smaller than any of these.”
“Of course, I can give you no information, for I don’t know any of
them. But we will talk over that matter another time. You stay where
you are, Waddie, and I will take an observation.”
I crept for some distance through the cow-path in the underbrush,
till I heard voices near the lake. I could not see the ruffians, but
I judged by the sound that they were moving toward the wharf where
Waddie’s boat was moored. I proceeded still farther toward the lake,
and, emerging from the bushes, I discovered all four of the wretches on
the wharf. The two whom I had imprisoned in the cabin of the _Belle_
had broken out, as I had anticipated, or, possibly, the other two had
released them. I feared that they had ruined, or badly damaged, my
boat, and I was very anxious about her.
I hastened back to the spot where I had left Waddie, and conducted
him to a position near the open woods. I did not think it expedient
to exhibit ourselves yet, and we waited an hour or more in our
concealment. I could not see Waddie’s persecutors. They did not attempt
any further pursuit. Probably they supposed we had started on foot for
Centreport, and, doubtless, they deemed it proper to consider what
steps were necessary to insure their own safety, for they knew very
well that Colonel Wimpleton would turn out the whole town in pursuit of
them as soon as he heard of the attempted outrage.
“By the great horn spoon!” exclaimed Waddie, who was becoming very
impatient after an hour’s anxious waiting, “there they are, going off
in my boat!”
“Good!” I replied. “They couldn’t do anything that would suit me
better; that is, if they have not sunk or smashed the _Belle_.”
This thought gave me a severe pang, and I almost groaned as I thought
of my beautiful craft ruined by these malignant wretches.
“No matter if they have, Wolf. My father will pay for making her as
good as ever she was,” said Waddie.
“But I am engaged to go up the lake in her with a party on Monday
morning.”
“We will pay all damages, so that you shall not lose a penny. But I’ll
bet you won’t want to go up the lake next week in the _Belle_,” he
added warmly.
I did not care to follow up the significance of this remark, for I had
not much confidence in the fair-weather promises of the Wimpletons. I
judged that he intended to do some great thing for me. Perhaps he only
flattered himself that he meant to be magnanimous and generous. He was
as impulsive in his loves as in his hates; and, though he adhered to
the latter with extraordinary tenacity, the former cooled off very
suddenly.
“Do you suppose those fellows know how to handle a boat?” I continued,
as I saw Waddie’s sloop go out into the lake under full sail.
“I hope not,” replied he, with energy. “But I wish they were in your
boat, instead of mine, for then they would go to the bottom if they
upset her.”
“I hope they won’t be drowned,” I added, as the boat heeled over so
that her gunwale went under.
“I don’t care if they are.”
“Be reasonable, Waddie.”
“I am reasonable. What do you suppose I care for the villains, after
what they have done to me?”
“Love your enemies, Waddie. Return good for evil.”
“It’s easy enough to talk; but I don’t believe much in that sort of
stuff.”
“It isn’t stuff, Waddie. If I had acted on your principle, you would
have been tarred and feathered before this time.”
“You won’t lose anything by what you have done, Wolf,” replied he
rather sheepishly.
“I don’t expect to make anything by it.”
“You will.”
“That isn’t the idea. If I had acted on your plan, I should have taken
hold and helped those fellows impose upon you. I don’t ask or expect
anything for what I have done. I have made enemies of these chaps,
whoever they are, for the sake of one who drove me out of Centreport,
hit me a crack in the face the other day, and told me squarely that he
hated me.”
“You wait, Wolf, and see what you will see.”
“I don’t ask anything, and I won’t take anything for what I have done.
I only want you to have ideas a little different about other people.”
“It’s no use of talking; you may be a saint, but I can’t be one,” said
Waddie impatiently. “I think those fellows will swamp the boat; but she
has air-tanks, and can’t sink.”
“We needn’t stay here any longer. You can go up-town in my boat. I
think we may as well be ready to pick those fellows up when they upset.”
“I will try to find my clothes,” said Waddie, as he moved off toward
the tar-kettle.
I went down to my boat. She lay just as I had left her, except that the
two glass ports in the trunk of the cabin were broken. The prisoners
had evidently attempted to reach the lock by thrusting their arms
through these apertures. Whether they succeeded or not, or whether
they were released by their companions outside, I do not know. Beyond
the breaking of the glass, no injury had been done to the _Belle_. The
padlock and key were both there. I hoisted my reefed mainsail, and
stood up to the wharf, toward which Waddie was now walking, with his
coat and vest on his arm.