BOB A PRISONER.
The genuine Robinson Crusoe, when he discovered the foot-print on his
island, was not more astonished than Sam Barton was at that moment;
nor were the fears he experienced more terrible than those which
flashed through the mind of the chief, when he received the astounding
intelligence that Bob Jennings, instead of being at home and in bed,
as his spy had reported, had been standing almost within reach of him,
listening to every word he uttered. The fisher-boy had learned a secret
which rendered him quite as dangerous to the governor as the cannibals
were to Crusoe, and the safety of his band depended upon his ability to
prevent him from returning to the upper world with the information he
had gained.
"Hurry up there, lads!" whispered Sam, excitedly, as he sprang into the
yawl and pushed it from the shore, "we can't catch him any too quick.
But whatever you do, be careful about makin' a noise!"
"There he is!" exclaimed Jack Spaniard, as a slight splashing in the
water attracted his attention. "Hold that light up higher, Friday."
The boy elevated the lantern above his head, and its rays fell full
upon the face of the fisher-boy, who was in the act of turning to
look at his pursuers. Believing that his chances for finding a safe
hiding-place under the pier were very slim indeed, he had struck out
for the harbor, and was working his way through the water at a rate of
speed that made Sam extremely nervous.
"Push ahead, fellows!" said he, taking his stand in the bow of the
yawl, with the lantern in one hand and the boat-hook in the other.
"Send her along lively. Hold on, there, Bobby Jennings, or I'll rap you
over the head."
But the fisher-boy swam faster than ever. The bully was not yet near
enough to strike him with the boat-hook, and he did not intend to
allow him to come within reach if he could help it. But, although he
proved himself to be a remarkable swimmer, he could not go faster than
the yawl, and finally Sam Barton, who was leaning so far over the bow
of his boat that he seemed to be in danger of losing his balance and
falling into the water, was near enough to the fisher-boy to fasten
into the collar of his shirt with the boat-hook.
"Now, then, you're ketched," said he, savagely, as he began to pull
his prisoner toward the boat. Bob evidently thought so too; but he
determined to keep up the fight as long as there was a chance for
escape, and, suddenly raising up in the water, he seized Sam by the
hair with one hand, while with the other he attempted to release his
collar from the boat-hook.
"Stand by here, somebody!" exclaimed Sam, who felt his prisoner
slipping through his fingers.
"Help! help!" shouted the fisher-boy with all the strength of his
lungs. "Thieves! Robbers! Mur--"
"Jerusalem!" ejaculated Will Atkins, alarmed by the noise; and,
seizing Bob by the shoulders, he plunged his head under the water to
silence his shouting.
"Choke him loose, lads!" said the chief, trying to unclasp the
fisher-boy's fingers from his hair. "That's it! Now, Tommy, hand me
that ar rope, an' you, Jack, ketch him by the shoulders an' stand by to
h'ist him into the boat when I give the word."
"Are you going to drown me?" gasped Bob, struggling to keep his head
above the water. "Let go your hold, Bill Stevens!"
"Easy there, with that tongue of yours!" replied Sam, "or down you
go again! Have you got a good hold on him, fellers? Now, then," he
continued flourishing the boat-hook above his head, "one word out of
you, Bobby Jennings, an' I'll give you a taste of this. I aint one of
them kind as stands much nonsense. Haul him into the boat, lads."
Jack Spaniard and Friday exerted all their strength, and in a moment
more the fisher-boy had been pulled into the boat, where he was at once
thrown upon the bottom and held by three or four of the band, while
Friday and Sam tied his hands behind his back with the rope. All this
while Bob had fought desperately for his freedom. He did not hope to
escape from his enemies, who so far out-numbered him, and held him at
such great disadvantage, but he had resisted simply because it did not
come natural to him to surrender upon the demand of any such fellows as
Sam and his band. But all his struggles were useless now. They could do
him no good, and might be the cause of bringing him bodily harm; and,
knowing that it would be very poor policy to raise the bully's anger,
he submitted to his captors with as good a grace as he could command,
and permitted them to tie him hand and foot.
"Now, then," said the chief after he had satisfied himself that Bob was
securely bound, "put out that light, an' we'll go back to the cave. If
you have raised any of them fellers in the harbor by your hollerin' an'
yellin', you'll be sorry for it, Bobby Jennings. I guess you won't go
round in your fine skiff, drivin' honest boys away from their work any
more."
Sam had traveled the road so often that he could find their
hiding-place in the dark quite as readily as by the aid of a lantern.
Presently he ran the bow of the yawl upon the shore, and, after
listening a moment to make sure that no one in the harbor had been
alarmed by the fisher-boy's shouting, he ordered his followers to carry
the prisoner into the cave. Bob bore their rough handling without a
word of complaint, and in a few moments he found himself lying on his
back in the middle of the cave, where he speedily aroused a new enemy,
in the shape of the bull-dog, which made desperate attempts to get at
him, and whose chain was almost long enough to allow him to reach the
prisoner. Bob several times heard his teeth snap like a steel-trap,
within an inch of his ears, but when he tried to move farther away
from the brute, he was instantly pounced upon by two of the band, who
seemed to be afraid that, bound hand and foot as he was, he might still
succeed in effecting his escape.
"Now, shut the door and light that lantern, somebody," commanded the
chief. "Friday, knock that dog down agin."
Jack Spaniard fumbled around in the dark for a moment, and then struck
a light, which revealed a scene that filled every boy in the cave with
excitement. Friday, in attempting to obey the governor's order, had got
himself into trouble. He had attacked the dog with the boat-hook, which
he had kept in his hand, to resist any attempt that the fisher-boy
might make at escape, but the brute, being determined to bite somebody,
and probably cherishing a grudge against Friday for the beating he
had given him but a short time before, turned fiercely upon him, and,
fastening his teeth in his arm, threw him to the floor; and when the
light from the lantern illumined the cave, he was shaking him as if he
had been a large rat.
"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Will Atkins, and, catching up an ax, he was
starting to Friday's assistance, when he was checked by the stern voice
of the chief.
"Hold on, there," exclaimed Sam. "If you hit that dog with that ax
there'll be a big fuss here. We mustn't hurt him, fur we need him to
hunt goats with."
"O, now, pull him off!" drawled Tom.
"Now, you stand back an' let him alone," said Friday, who did not seem
to be at all concerned. "If I can't beat this dog in a fair tussel, I
don't want a cent."
During the struggle, Friday kept a firm hold of his boat-hook; and
now that the lantern was lighted, so that he could see to use it,
he regained his feet, and showered his blows so fiercely upon his
assailant, that, in less than half a minute, he was declared to be a
badly whipped dog, and Sam was obliged to interfere in order to save
his favorite from serious injury.
"You fellers needn't make up your minds to see much goat meat on the
table when we get to our island," said Friday, rolling up his sleeve
to examine his arm, which, Tom was very much relieved to see was
scarcely scratched "We'll starve to death if we don't get no grub till
that ar dog ketches it fur us."
Quiet being restored, the fisher-boy was placed in a sitting posture
in the middle of the cave, with his back against the skiff; Sam seated
himself on the dry-goods box, while the others of the band disposed
of themselves in various attitudes, and waited for their leader to
speak. Bob glanced hastily from one to the other of them, and he was
satisfied, from their looks, that the new member was the only one who
was prepared to say a word in his favor.
Tom was already sincerely repenting that he had ever joined the Crusoe
band. He had been greatly terrified by the violence he had witnessed,
his face wore a timid, frightened expression, and his mouth was twisted
on one side as if he had half a mind to cry. It had been demonstrated
to his satisfaction that his new friends were but very little, if any,
better than so many young savages, and he trembled when he thought of
what they would do to him if he should accidentally break any of the
laws of the band. Boys who could stand by and see one of their number
engaged in a fight with a fierce bull-dog, without raising a hand to
assist him, were not likely to be possessed of very kindly feelings;
and if any misfortune should befall him while in their company, he
could not hope for sympathy from any of them. Another reason why Tom
wished himself well out of the scrape was, because he believed that the
events of the last five minutes had endangered the existence of the
society. We know that he was a famous manager, and that he could
see a long way ahead of him while every thing worked smoothly and to
his satisfaction, and no real obstacles were encountered; but now he
was sadly troubled. Had he been the chief of the band at that moment,
he would not have known how to act. He had readily fallen in with the
belief of the others that Bob ought to be captured, in order to prevent
him from revealing the secret of their hiding-place, and thus breaking
up the band and putting a stop to their cruise; but now that they had
got him, he was like the man who drew the elephant in the lottery--he
didn't know what ought to be done with him. Sam Barton, however, was
not troubled with any gloomy foreboding. Although he had, at first,
looked very serious, and imagined all sorts of terrible things that
would happen to him now that his rival had discovered his secret, a
hasty review of the situation had convinced him that his case was not
so very desperate after all. Indeed, according to his way of thinking,
some such scrape as they had just got into was needed to establish
his society upon a firm basis. Although the members, without a single
exception, appeared to enter heartily into all his plans, he was afraid
that, when the time for action arrived, one or two of the timid ones
would have some excuse for backing out. That was one reason, though not
the principal one, why he had stolen Bob's skiff. As all the members of
his band had assisted him in it, he had thus got a firm hold upon them;
and, if any of them became restive, he could enforce obedience to his
commands by threatening to expose them to Mr. Grimes, the constable.
The capture of the fisher-boy would serve to convince the band that he
was in earnest, and that he was determined to carry out his plans in
spite of all the obstacles that could be thrown in his way.
[Illustration: BOB A PRISONER IN THE CAVE. (Page 180.)]
"Gentlemen will come to order agin," said Sam, assuming a very solemn
air, and looking savagely at the fisher-boy. "Of all the things that
have happened since I got to be governor, this yere is the beat! It
don't need a smart man to tell what would happen to us if this yere
feller should get a chance to tell Mr. Grimes of what he has seed here;
so the best thing we can do is to take care that he don't get back to
the village in a hurry. Bobby Jennings, we shall keep you prisoner
here until we get ready to start for our island. Friday, you an' Jack
Spaniard tie that ar dog right here in front of the door; an' then,
even if he does get his hands an' feet loose, he can't get out!"
"O, now, I object to this way of doing business!" drawled Tom, as
Friday and Jack untied the dog and began to drag him toward the door.
"We don't want to keep Bob a prisoner here! How long do you suppose it
will be before his absence will be discovered, and search made for him?"
"Well, let 'em search!" returned Sam. "They won't find him, an' mebbe
they'll think he is drownded, or that he has run away."
"If we don't keep him here, what will we do with him?" demanded Will
Atkins. "Haint you got no sense at all?"
"O, now, I want you to quit asking me if I haven't got any sense!"
drawled Tom. "I know as much about managing affairs of this kind as you
or any one else in the band."
"I don't see it!" said the chief. "A purty captain you would make now!
If we should let him go, he'd have us all in jail in less than an hour:
wouldn't you, Bobby?"
"Indeed I would," replied the fisher-boy, promptly. "That would be the
best place in the world for you."
"O, now, you wouldn't put me in jail, Bob Jennings," drawled Tom. "I
haven't done any thing."
"You haven't?" exclaimed Sam. "That's a purty story, aint it, fellers?
You're jest as deep in the mud as we are. Aint you a member of our
band, an' didn't the band steal the skiff? The meetin's out, now."
"O, I didn't have any thing to do with the skiff," whined Tom, who was
utterly amazed at the bully's impudence. "I didn't join the band until
after."
"I said the meetin's out!" interrupted the governor. "If you have any
thing to growl about you must keep it until we come here agin. Now,
Bobby," he added, turning to the prisoner, "you've been ketched actin'
the part of a spy; an' 'cordin' to law, you had oughter be chucked into
the harbor. Howsomever, if you will behave yourself like a man had
oughter do, we won't do you no harm. You have seed enough of this dog
to know that he's mighty rough on strangers, an' if you know any thing
you'll not try to get away from us. If you do--well, you'll find out
what'll happen."
After spreading an old sail upon the floor of the cave for the
fisher-boy to lie down upon, and tightening up the ropes with which
his hands and feet were confined, Sam again informed the band that the
"meeting was out," and ordered them to get ready to start for home.
The chief, as usual brought up the rear, remaining after the others
had gone, to see that every thing was right about the cave. He paused
a moment at the door, to assure the fisher-boy that the best thing he
could do was to remain quietly a prisoner, and then he pushed the board
back to its place, and Bob was left to his meditations, and to the
companionship of the bull-dog.