_The Money-Bags_
Linda's theories regarding the fourth member of the gang of thieves had
been only partially correct. As she had surmised, the "Doc" slipped off
in the canoe from Black Jack Island while his companions slept, and he
did stop at Soldiers' Camp. But it was not he who compelled Susie to go
with him, but the girl herself who insisted upon accompanying him.
Susie's desire to reform had been sincere while Linda was with her. She
had actually meant to cut free from the gang and go back to a normal
mode of life--earning her living as she had done when she met her
husband. No more sneaking about in fear of the law, no more hiding in
that desolate camp in the Okefenokee Swamp! She would get a job at an
airport, and take up flying again. She might even become famous--like
Linda Carlton!
But unfortunately, after the famous aviatrix left her alone, her
enthusiasm faded, and her faith in her ability to make a "come-back"
died as suddenly as it was born. How could she ever hope to be free
from the stain of her last two years of living--since her marriage to
"Slats"? If Linda did not turn her over to the police authorities,
someone else would. She might have to serve five or ten years in prison.
As the afternoon passed, she grew more and more miserable, more anxious
to get away. If only she had a boat! If her ankle were not so painful,
and her bandaged head not so conspicuous! If there were only some way
for her to escape!
Having no appetite, she made no pretense at preparing any supper for
herself. There was still some cold tea left from lunch; she decided to
make that her meal, and an hour later she fell asleep where she was,
right on the shore of the island.
The sun was rising over the swamp when she awakened the following
morning, and she sat up with difficulty, cramped by her uncomfortable
position in sleep.
"I might as well be dead--with Slats," she thought, morbidly, as she
viewed the desolation around her. Again she tried to rise, when the
soft sound of a paddle, dipping into the quiet water attracted her
attention. She waited breathlessly. Were the boys coming back so soon?
Not long afterward a canoe came into sight. Susie's heart leaped with
joy when she recognized who was guiding it. The Doc!
"Doc!" she cried. "Bill Rickers!" she added, using the man's real name.
"It's Susie!"
The man pulled up to the island, amazed at finding her there. In the
dawning light he saw the autogiro, lying half on its side.
"Where's Slats?" he demanded.
"Dead," answered the girl, immediately. "We had a wreck.... Will you
take me with you?" she begged. "I'm almost crazy here all by myself."
"I wanted to make a get-away alone," he muttered.
"You have the money!" she cried, jumping at once to the correct
conclusion. "Where are the other two men?"
"Asleep at Black Jack Island."
"And where are you going?"
"Out of the swamp--across the state, and then over to our island. The
yacht's due there tomorrow--I want to be ready to go with it."
"O.K. with me," agreed Susie, as if she had been invited to go. "Let's
push off now--or wait--we'll eat some breakfast. There's beans and cold
tea."
"Maybe you could be some use," remarked the man, as he ate the meager
breakfast. "If we could get a plane. And I am sorry for you, Kid--all
alone here with Slats dead."
Susie gave him no chance to change his mind. Hobbling out to the little
"house" where the boys had put the blanket and the extra food, she
picked up the former, smoothed her dress and her hair, and returned to
announce herself ready. They pushed off again, following the little
stream out of the swamp.
"How do you expect to get across the state?" asked the girl, wearily,
when late that afternoon, they brought their canoe to a landing. She
had slept a little in the boat, but she was still very tired.
"Hitch-hike, I reckon," was the reply. "If we go hirin' any cars,
somebody might get suspicious. Once at the coast, I count on rentin' a
little fishing-boat from some fellow--one big enough to take us to the
island."
"I can't hitch-hike," objected Susie.
"Don't then,--stay here," answered the man, indifferently.
"You know I can't do that, either. Let's go to that house over there,
and see if we can't get some supper. Maybe they have an old Ford or a
team of horses."
"You foot the bill?" he asked, shrewdly. With all that money in his
possession, this man had no intention of spending any of it on anyone
but himself.
Susie considered a moment. She hadn't any money at all--she always got
what she wanted from her husband. But she owned some costly jewelry.
"I'll give you this diamond," she offered, "if you get me safe out of
the country. And no walkin'!"
"O.K.," he muttered, his greedy eyes gleaming at the sight of the
beautiful jewel. "You win. Go ask the woman yourself."
It was thus, by strange coincidence, that Susie and the Doc rode across
Georgia that evening in the same Ford that had driven Linda and the
boys to Jacksonville the night before. They reached a seaport town a
little after midnight, and Susie succeeded in finding a house to stay
in, though her companion preferred to remain out-doors, for he said
he "didn't trust nobody." In the morning, when she joined him, he had
rented an old motor-boat from a fisherman. "Rent" was the word he used,
but he had not the slightest intention of returning it.
"You can run her, Susie," he said. "You're better at engines than I am,
and she'll need coaxing. I'll steer."
It was a difficult cruise, for at times the engine coughed and died,
and Susie had to try all sorts of methods to start her up again. When
they finally came within sight of the island, the motor sputtered its
last and refused to function any longer. The man managed to get the
boat inshore by riding the waves, and using the oars kept at the bottom
of the boat for just such an emergency.
About the time Linda Carlton and Dot Crowley were eating their lunch on
Black Jack Island, Susie and the Doc were making their landing. They
pulled in at the opposite shore from the one which the girls later used
in the autogiro. The man's first concern was with the hiding-place
where he expected to find the boxes of jewels. His disappointment was
keen when he discovered that they had been taken away.
"The cops has found us out!" he snarled angrily at Susie, as if it were
her fault. "They'll be back again--I'll bet you! We gotta get out of
here!"
"How?" demanded Susie. "Not in that boat?"
"Nope. Maybe the yacht will be along early, but it ain't likely. It
usually runs after dark."
Dumping his bags in the sand not far from the hole, he tried to think
what would be best to do.
"We gotta act quick, Susie--if the cops come. No use tryin' to put
up a fight--with only one gun, and them two bags to guard.... You
watch on that other shore, and I'll go back to the one we came in on.
Whatever they come in--airplane or boat--we gotta swipe. Hide if you
see anything comin', give 'em a chance to get into the island--and grab
their boat. Give me a signal----"
"How?" she interrupted.
"You take the gun, and shoot when you're ready to push off.... If I
see anybody on my side, I'll whistle, as near like a bird as I can." He
grinned to himself; if the police came in anything but an airplane, he
wouldn't bother with Susie. Let her face the music!
"O.K. But I couldn't run, Doc. Don't forget that."
"I ain't forgettin'," he returned.
They separated, and for two hours waited tensely, keeping a sharp
look-out for the rescuing yacht, hoping against hope that it would
arrive before the police. But at three o'clock their worst fears were
realized. Susie saw the autogiro coming towards them, and hobbled off
into the depths of the island to conceal herself. Lying flat on the
sand, she was not able to identify the people who got out of the plane,
but she could see that they both wore riding-breeches, and she believed
they were men. So she kept still until they had disappeared into the
underbrush. Then she began to creep laboriously, in a round-about
fashion, to the autogiro.
Susie's progress was slow; she did not reach the plane until after
Linda and Dot had succeeded in emptying the bags of the money, and
refilled them with sand. The girls had just recognized the man on the
shore, and were creeping farther into the island, out of sight of him,
when the shot of the pistol rang out above the roar of the ocean. They
had no way of knowing that Susie had fired it.
A moment later they heard the rustle and crackle of underbrush, as the
man came towards them. From her hiding place, now some distance from
the bags, Linda raised her head cautiously, and saw the thief retrieve
the bags with a grab. Then he dashed back to the shore, circled the
island on the harder sand, and reached the opposite shore, where the
autogiro was standing.
"Why doesn't he come after us?" whispered Linda, in amazement.
"He will soon, I'm afraid," replied Dot hoarsely, clutching her
revolver tightly. "But I'm going to shoot if he does!"
"So am I," answered Linda, calmly. "We've got the advantage--we're
hidden."
Tensely they waited for five minutes--possibly ten; then something they
had not thought of happened. The engine of the autogiro began to roar!
"They're stealing the Ladybug!" cried Linda, aghast at such a
calamity. "Susie must be with him! Dot, we can't let them do that!"
Regardless of the danger, Linda jumped up excitedly, and rushed to a
clearing, where she had a view of the shore. She was just in time to
see her beloved autogiro taxi along the beach and rise into the air.
Dot dashed to her side, and the two girls stood together in helpless
agony of spirit.
"Prisoners!" cried Dot, at last, dropping her useless revolver into the
sand.
"Robinson Crusoes!" added Linda, bitterly. "No better off! No plane!"
"With thousands of dollars!" groaned her companion, ironically. "Where
money is no good at all!"