“Lie down in the canoe,” I whispered to Betty. “They must have missed
us; I’m going to take a little look.”
When she had obeyed, and could not see what I did, I slipped the
safety catch off my pistol and crept forward to the mouth of the cave.
I was right; some one was walking near the cave. After a few seconds I
could make out the heavy footsteps of two men. They were walking
carelessly, brush crackling beneath their feet, and they were coming
down-hill. Suddenly from some distance off came the sound of a sharp
whistle twice repeated. The footsteps stopped.
“There,” said a voice. “Wha’d’ I tell you? The cap’s given up, too,
and it’s a case of get back to the boat for us.”
“I tell you,” responded a second voice, “I don’t believe it was the
guys we’re after at all. They’re old-timers and wise guys. It don’t
seem nach’rel they’d go shooting this close to the water, where they
knew we’d be sure to hear it. That was a revolver, too.”
“Who the —— else would it be, then?” demanded the first man. “There
ain’t nobody else to do any revolver shooting round here, is they?
Sure it was the guys we’re after. Nobody else. They’re hard up fer
grub, and had to shoot something wherever they could get it—nobody
else ’round here.”
“There’s that —— Pitt, an’ the skirt the cap’s gone crazy about, ain’t
there? They’re loose somewhere in the valley, too, ain’t they?”
“Sure. They got no revolver, though. He ain’t a shootin’ man, either.
Naw; it was those miner guys who fired that shot, all right; an’
they’re old-timers an’ beat it like —— right away an’ kept traveling,
so we didn’t find them or their trail. They might be layin’ round here
some place at that.”
“Well, come on. Let’s get down.”
Their footsteps sounded again on the ground. I placed my eyes to an
interstice in the brush and peered out. Perhaps fifty feet north of
the cave two of Brack’s men were slouching down-hill toward the boat,
their rifles hanging carelessly over their shoulders like men who are
returning from an unsuccessful hunt.
Farther down the hill and a good distance to the north were two other
men, and as I watched Brack broke out of the brush along the bay and
ran swiftly down the beach to where his boat lay tied. Here he dropped
promptly out of sight behind the boulder where he and his men had
sought shelter when they landed, and there, safely hidden, he awaited
the return of his men.
His tactics puzzled me at first. Why did he run so swiftly across the
open space of the beach? Why hide himself behind the boulder? It was
not like Brack to run or hide. Then, considering the speech I had just
heard, I understood. It was Slade and Harris that Brack and his men
had come hunting, summoned by my pistol-shot, and the captain, knowing
their deadly skill with the rifle, was not wishful to expose himself
any more than was necessary.
“Betty,” I said swiftly, as the men came out upon the beach and
tumbled into the boat, “they’re going away. It wasn’t us they were
after. They’ve no idea we’re here. They’re rowing away now, and I’m
going to try and see if I can’t follow them and find where they’re
staying.”
They were shoving the boat out now, and as soon as they had turned its
bow toward the head of the fiord, I leaped from the cave and ran as
swiftly as I could northward, keeping out of sight of the water. When
I knew that I was well ahead of the boat I curved toward the fiord,
and the moment the water came in view I lay flat down in the brush and
waited. If the boat did not appear I would at least know that Brack’s
rendezvous was somewhere between the cave and the point where I was
lying.
I had but a minute or two to wait, however, when the boat came rushing
along and continued farther north. Once more I waited until it was out
of sight, then again curving my path out of sight of the water, I once
more ran desperately to get in the lead.
My rush this time led me to where I found further progress barred by
the river at the head of the fiord. At the junction of the two waters
I hid myself and waited. When the boat came in view I drew back, for I
was perilously near the river and I judged that having come this far
Brack was bound up the river toward the cabins. I was mistaken. The
boat turned eastward, before reaching the river-mouth. It went
straight toward an opening on the other side of the fiord which I had
not previously noticed. This opening was to some degree hidden by an
out-jutting bluff. Without slacking speed the boat swung around the
bluff and disappeared into a part of the fiord whose existence I had
not suspected.
Then I stood up and cursed aloud. And at that a voice cried out from a
clump of willows near by:
“Oh ——! Is that really you, Brains? Oh, ——! Mebbe I ain’t glad to see
you!”
Pierce’s expression as he came stumbling out of the willows was a
study. The last two days had wrinkled and drawn his honest face into a
mask of despair, and now, suddenly convulsed with relief and joy, his
eyes honestly shed tears while his lips grinned happily.
“Put ’er there, Brains! Mitt me, mitt me!” he stammered, grasping my
hand. “Gee! I didn’t know you with all that fuzz on your face. Well,
you’re all right, and—and there ain’t anything happened to Her, has
they?”
“No, Freddy,” I managed to say at last. “Miss Baldwin is all right.
She’s back in the cave that I told you about.”
“Wow!” He fairly wilted with relief. “Say, if anything had happened to
her I’d hike straight back to the yacht and blow a hole through
Brack’s head the second I saw him.”
“The yacht?” I cried. “Do you mean to say the yacht is near at hand?”
“Right up at the end of the bay there,” was his casual reply. “Riordan
ran ’er up right after you’d left that afternoon with the boss. Say,
how long ago is that, Brains?”
“Two days ago, isn’t it?”
“Yah! You ain’t sure yourself, are you? It’s been long for you, too,
eh? Seems about a month to me. An’ you been living in the cave! Say!
Look at this.” He patted the sweater which he was wearing and which
was swollen far out in front.
“Grub,” he said. “Come on; let’s beat it before anybody comes nosing
around.”
“Pierce!” I said, “do you mean to say that you’ve got food—real,
civilized food there?”
“Sure. I was on my way to the cave to feed you. Wait a second while I
get my rifle.”
He dove back into the willows and reappeared bearing the rifle which I
had taken from Barry.
“Come on. Lead the way. Tell you all about it later. Got to beat it
now. I put a bump on Garvin’s bean to get away and they may be after
me any minute. Go ahead, fast’s you can; I’ll keep up.”
* * * * *
I waited to ask no more questions but plunged into the forest at a run
with Pierce following at my heels. There was no need for caution now
and we went straight to the cave, to find Betty ruefully picking the
bird I had shot. At the sight of Pierce she stopped and stared, while
I took the bird from her hand.
“No need for this now,” I laughed. “Here’s Freddy, and he’s brought us
some real civilized food.”
“Best I could do,” said Pierce, and opening his belt there clattered
to the floor of the cave a quantity of the _Wanderer’s_ choicest
viands that made me gasp. “Wilson’s sweater,” explained Pierce,
looking at the pile. “Big enough for two of me. Held quite a lot,
didn’t it?”
“Food!” Betty clasped her hands and gazed in amazement at the
collection.
There was potted turkey, _paté-de-foie-gras_, asparagus tips,
veal-loaf, all in glass. There were packages of tea biscuit. There was
a bundle which contained sandwiches.
“Food! Oh, you blessed, perambulating pantry! You—you angel!” she
cried, and hugged Pierce in a way that left him red and stammering.
“Gee! Beg pardon—I mean, you’re all right, ain’t you, Miss Baldwin?
Gee—I mean, that’s fine!”
“Freddy,” said I with genuine feeling, “as you say, ‘mitt me,’ once
more. ‘Put ’er there.’ You’re a prince. You’re more than a prince;
you’re a clever man.”
“Aw, c’m on now, Brains; don’t go kidding me,” he protested.
“Kidding you!” cried Betty, biting into a generous sandwich. “If you
knew how we felt toward you at this moment—if you knew how like an
angel you appear to us! Oh, but real food does taste good!”
“I ought to have got here before this,” said Pierce, as Betty and I
devoted ourselves to nourishment, “but first Riordan had me locked in
the engine-room, and then Brack had me there, and this was the first
chance for a getaway I had.”
“Begin at the beginning,” I commanded, opening the asparagus. “We
don’t know a thing except that when we came back the other night the
yacht was gone.”
“And roll yourself a cigaret, do,” supplemented Betty.
“Aw—aw, I guess I can get along without smoking,” said Pierce lamely.
“Roll a cigaret,” repeated Betty. “Then tell us—about everything. And
how is George—Mr. Chanler?”