IN PERIL
The young fireman gave a great shout of distress and excitement as he
realized that he was in a decidedly perilous predicament. The oil of
the lamp had ignited and the hut seemed doomed.
Ralph tugged at his bonds in a frenzy. Another strand of the rope gave
way, then another, and still another. He trembled with mingled
surprise and hope. Could he get free in time? It seemed not, for the
flames were spreading fast and furiously.
Suddenly there was a shout outside of the hut. It was repeated, and
then there came a great crash at the door. Ralph wondered at this, for
he could think only of Farrington and his accomplices returning to the
rescue. The loud pounding on the door, however, indicated that the
persons engaged in it had no key. There was more than one person;
Ralph ascertained this from the sound of mingled voices.
Suddenly the door gave way. It was burst bodily from its hinges and
went crashing against the blazing table, upsetting it. At just that
moment Ralph got one arm free. He was about to shout for assistance
when he recognized the intruders.
They were Ike Slump and Mort Bemis. Both dashed into the blazing room.
One found a pail of water and threw it in among the flames. This
subdued the blaze partially.
"Be quick!" cried Slump to his companion. "Grab all you can. You have
been watching the place, and say you know where old Farrington is
likely to hide his valuables."
"Right here," replied Bemis, tearing open the door of a cupboard.
"Here's a satchel."
"And here's another one," said Ike Slump, picking up the one that
Bartlett had brought to the place. "Look sharp, now. They may come
back at any moment."
The two marauders ransacked the room. Ralph refrained from calling out
to them. He could now reach his pocket knife, and just as Slump and
Bemis, pretty well singed by the flames, ran out of the hut, he
hurried to a rear door and darted outside as well.
The young fireman peered around the corner of the hut. He saw Slump
and Bemis making for the nearest timber. Ralph put after them, and as
he gained the cover of the woods, looking back, he made out three
figures dashing towards the blazing hut.
"Farrington and the others," decided Ralph. "This is an exciting
business. Now to keep track of Slump and Bemis. I can hardly figure
out, though, how they came to rob the hut, for Farrington was once
their friend."
The precious pair of thieves scurried along through the woods,
laughing and talking gleefully over the plunder they had secured. They
must have gone over three miles before they halted. It was at a spot
in among high bushes. Here they had evidently been camping previously,
for there was a lot of hay on the ground, the signs of a recent
campfire, and a sort of roof of bark overhead for shelter from rain
and dew. They sat down on the ground and Slump proceeded to light a
lantern.
"Your watching has amounted to something at last, Mort," said Slump.
"Farrington went back on us in a measly way. Why, after all we did for
him he took up with Jim Evans and others, and even refused me a few
dollars when we were in hiding and trouble after that silk robbery.
Here's our revenge. He's been up to some deep game for a week. He'll
never know who stole this plunder."
"Find how much of it there is," suggested Bemis.
Each took up a satchel to investigate the contents. Ralph was
intensely interested. He peered from a safe covert near at hand.
"Well, well, well!" exclaimed Slump as he opened the satchel taken
from the cupboard of the old hut. "Why, there's a fortune here, if we
can only handle it. Bonds of the Great Northern, stock in the Great
Northern. See? some money--notes, mortgages, deeds! This is a big
find."
"Same here, except the money," reported Bemis, investigating the
documents in the satchel brought from Stanley Junction by Bartlett.
"Mostly railroad stock in the Great Northern. Private letters, lists
of names of the strikers. Memoranda about some wire-tapping scheme.
Say, these papers are enough to send the old skeesicks to the
penitentiary. He'll pay a fortune to get them back."
Slump pocketed the ready cash in the satchel. Then he was silently
thoughtful for a few moments.
"See here, I have my scheme," he said finally. "We'll carry these
satchels down to the old barge at the creek, and hide them there. Then
we'll block out some plan to work Farrington for their return."
"All right," said Bemis. "Come ahead."
They took up the satchels and started on again, and Ralph followed
them as before. They came to a creek, and, after lining its shore for
nearly a mile, to a large roughly-made scow. Both boarded the craft,
disappeared in its hold, reappeared, and came to the shore again.
"We'll just enjoy the ready cash for the time being," said Slump, "and
later find out a safe way to deal with Farrington."
When they had gone, Ralph went aboard the scow. A scuttle led down
into its hold. Its cover was closed with a strong spring bolt. Ralph
drew this back and sat over the edge of the scuttle.
He peered down, prepared to push the cover clear back, when he slipped
and went below head-long. The cover fell tightly shut, and he was a
prisoner.
Ralph did not mind this much at the time. He believed he could readily
force up the cover in some way when he wanted to leave the scow. He
lit some matches and proceeded to search for the two satchels. He
found them in a remote corner of the hold.
It was when he prepared to leave the hold that the young fireman
discovered himself in a decided quandary. He could barely reach the
scuttle cover, and there was not an object in the hold that he could
use to force it open. Finally Ralph decided that he could not hope for
escape in that direction.
There was a little window at one end of the scow, but it was too small
to escape by. Ralph was compelled to accept the situation, at least
until daylight. He tried to sleep, and at dawn looked out from the
window.
"I will simply have to wait here until some one passes by," he told
himself. "In the meantime, though, Slump and Bemis may return. Can I
reach the rope holding the scow to the shore?"
This was secured around a tree stump. Ralph reached with his pocket
knife through the window, and began cutting at the scow end of the
rope, which ran just above it.
In a few minutes the strands gave way and the scow floated down the
creek.