THE BOYS TO THE RESCUE
The room was fairly well lighted from a large lamp on a table near
the center. A glance was all that was necessary for them to take in
the situation. In a chair to the right sat the wife of the
storekeeper, tied hand and foot. The storekeeper himself was
similarly placed on the opposite side of the room. His feet were
bare and one man was holding one of them, while it was evident that
the other was about to apply the flame of a candle, which he held in
his hand, to the sole of the foot. The man holding the candle, Bob
noticed, was a hunchback.
As the door burst open the two men turned. With an oath the larger
dropped the storekeeper’s foot and reached for his hip pocket. He
did not, however, have time to draw his gun, for, with a yell, Bob
was upon him.
It was, as Rex afterward declared, a beautiful tackle. Bob dove for
the man’s legs and they came to the floor in a heap. But the man was
a powerful brute, and shaking off the boy’s hold he was on his feet
again almost instantly. Bob too sprang to his feet. For a second the
two, man and boy, stood facing each other. Then, with a roar like an
angry bull, the man sprang. Bob neatly sidestepped and the blow
merely grazed his cheek.
Smack! Before the man could regain his balance Bob had turned and
driven his fist with all his strength against his jaw. The blow
staggered the man, but he did not fall.
“I’ll get you,” the man hissed through his teeth.
“Better be quick while the getting’s good,” Bob taunted.
As far as brute strength went, Bob well knew that he was no match
for his opponent, but the boy was a skillful boxer, while as he knew
from past experience the man knew nothing of the art.
Again the man rushed and again the boy dodged the blow, and, as
before, landed a heavy one in return. This time the blow caught the
man fairly on the nose and brought a stream of blood from the
nostrils. The pain of the blow maddened the man to the point of
frenzy, and throwing caution to the winds he rushed in and threw his
powerful arms about the boy’s neck, heedless of the blows that Bob
showered on him. Back and forth they swayed for a moment.
But Bob knew that there could be but one end to a struggle of this
kind, as the man was hugging him closer and closer in his arms. His
hold must be broken and that quickly. Watching his chance, Bob
suddenly exerting all his strength brought his knee up against the
man’s abdomen. With a grunt of pain and surprise, he loosened his
hold for an instant, and Bob was quick to take advantage of the
opportunity. Like an eel he slipped from his grasp, and before his
opponent could recover his hold, he drove his right fist to his jaw.
Smack! It was a beautiful blow, landing exactly on the right spot.
Its force was enhanced by the fact that the man was springing
forward at the time. Down he went without a sound and lay still on
the floor.
Meanwhile, at the instant Bob had made the dive for his man, Rex had
sprung for the other. The hunchback, though not large, was wiry, and
it seemed to Rex, as they rolled over and over on the floor,
possessed of the strength of ten wild cats.
Jack, confident that Bob could take care of himself, but not so sure
of Rex, was dancing about trying to get a hold on the hunchback. But
so rapidly did the two thrash about that, for what seemed a long
time, he was unable to help his friend. But as it proved, his help
was not needed, for Rex finally succeeded in getting a firm grasp of
the other’s throat and soon had him under control. Seeing that Rex
was all right, Jack turned to see how Bob was making out, just in
time to see the blow which knocked him out.
“Gee, but that was a peach,” he declared, as he stepped quickly to
Bob’s side. “Did he hurt you any?”
“Nary a bit,” Bob replied, as he glanced at the man on the floor.
It was but a moment’s work to release the man and his wife, and they
were profuse in their thanks. But without waiting to listen to them,
the boys took the ropes with which they had been tied, and soon had
the two men tied good and fast. The hunchback made no resistance as
his hands and feet were securely bound, and the other man did not
begin to show signs of life until after the job was completed.
“Well, Nip, it seems that our paths are bound to cross,” Bob said,
as he stood in front of the hunchback. “I guess we’ve got you and
Jake with the goods this time, and you’ll eat at the expense of the
State for some time.”
Those of my readers who have read the previous volumes of this
series, need no introduction to Nip and his friend, Jake. For the
benefit of those who have not, it will be sufficient to say that the
pair were as fine a couple of rogues as you would want to meet. As
Bob had said, their paths had crossed before, and the boys had
gotten the better of them but they had escaped.
Nip made no reply to Bob’s remark. He was a sullen brute and
realized that the boys once more had the upper hand.
“It’s a pretty low business, Nip, when you come to torturing a
helpless old man and his wife, but I’m not surprised.”
Just then a groan came from Jake, who was still lying on the floor,
and a moment later he opened his eyes and looked about him. He was,
as Jack declared, a sight. His face was covered with blood from the
blow on his nose, and one of his eyes was nearly closed and was
beginning to turn black.
“Well, Jake, I’m sorry I had to cut you up so,” Bob began, as he
stood over the man, “but you certainly had it coming to you.”
“I’ll get you sometime,” Jake growled, as he struggled to free his
hands.
“Mebby,” Bob replied. “But I rather think that you’ll be kept pretty
busy for some time. No use to waste your strength on that rope, man.
It’s a good strong one and it’s tied to stay. I’ll get some water
and wash the blood off your face. You don’t look a bit pretty.”
The storekeeper’s wife quickly brought some water in a basin and
soon Bob had the man’s face cleaner than it had been for a long
time, as Jack asserted.
“Well, boys,” the storekeeper said, after Bob had introduced Rex to
him and his wife, “You certainly came in the nick o’ time, as the
sayin’ is. That feller’d a had that candle against my foot in
another minute and I gess I’d a had ter give in. You saved me close
ter two thousand dollars an’ Jeb Slocum ain’t one ter ferget it.”
Before Bob had time to reply, the little child that he had found in
the woods came running into the room.
“Are the bad mans gone, mamma?” she asked.
“No, they ain’t gone but they can’t hurt us now,” her mother
replied, as she hugged the little girl to her breast.
Then Bob told them how he had found the child and how she had told
them what was happening.
“I was worried to death ’bout what had become of Dot,” the woman
said, as she kissed the child again and again.
“Those fellers come in here ’bout an hour ago,” Mr. Slocum explained
in answer to Bob’s question. “They must have got wind ter the fact
that I had a lot o’ money in the house. Yer see there ain’t another
soul ’sides us here just now. Everybody’s gone down ter Greenville
fer one thing or a nother. Well, they jumped us an’ tied us up and
demanded ter know where my money was, and when I wouldn’t tell ’em
they got real mad an’ ’lowed as how they’d burn my feet off if I
didn’t tell, an’ I guess they’d a done it if you hadn’t come along
jest when you did.”
Mrs. Slocum insisted on getting the boys something to eat, and it
was close to ten o’clock by the time they had finished. Jeb insisted
that the boys go to bed while he sat up and watched the prisoners.
“Land sakes,” he declared, when Bob announced his intention of
serving as watchman. “I couldn’t sleep no mor’n a cat after all this
excitement,” and seeing that he was determined, Bob soon gave up the
argument and together with Rex and Jack, followed Mrs. Slocum to a
room upstairs where were a couple of most comfortable looking beds.
“I hope you’ll find those beds all right,” she said, as she bade
them goodnight.
“I should say they were all right,” Jack declared a moment later, as
he nearly sank out of sight in the soft feather tick.
They were up at daybreak the next morning, and by the time they had
recovered their packs and snow-shoes from where they had left them
the night before, Mrs. Slocum had breakfast ready for them.
“Another one of those steaks,” Jack sighed with joyful anticipation,
as he sat down at the table.
“I’ve eaten some pretty good steaks in my lifetime,” Rex declared a
little later, “but, honestly, Mrs. Slocum, I never knew till now
what a really good steak was.”
The woman flushed with pleasure at the words of praise.
“And I’ve eaten French fried before,” Jack declared, “but these, Oh,
boy, these are in a class all by themselves.”
As soon as they had finished, the prisoners were fed one at a time,
their hands being freed for the moment and then securely fastened.
By eight o’clock they were ready to start. The two prisoners had
snow-shoes and these were tied to their backs. Then their feet were
untied but their hands were kept securely fastened behind their
backs.
“Think I’ll go along with you,” Jeb Slocum said, as they were about
to start. “I got to go in a day or two, and I’d like the job of
lodging a complaint against these fellers.”
The boys expressed their pleasure at having his company, and after
bidding Mrs. Slocum goodbye Bob turned to the two prisoners, who
were standing sullenly a few feet away.
“Now you two listen to me,” he began. “We’re going to take you down
to Jackman and turn you over to the police. It’s not safe to have
men of your stripe loose about the country. Now we’ve got some
pretty good persuaders here and we know how to use them; and if you
try to get away we won’t hesitate to shoot,” and he held out one of
the guns so that they could see it.
The men made no reply, but Bob fancied he caught a queer look in the
eyes of Jake as he glanced at the hunchback.
“I’ll keep a mighty close watch on you,” he thought.
“Never saw the snow hang on so long seems like,” Jeb declared, as
they started, the two prisoners a few feet to the front.
The morning was clear and cold and the crust hard enough to bear
their weight. They made good time and reached the town in time for
dinner in spite of the fact that they had to resort to the
snow-shoes for the last few miles. They had met no one on the trip
and the two prisoners had made no attempt to escape, although Bob
felt sure that it was due to their watchfulness that they had not.
Jackman boasted of no police station but did have a lockup and to
this building they marched their men. The keeper of the lockup was
at home, and after lodging a formal complaint against them and
seeing them behind the bars they all went to the hotel for dinner.
To their great satisfaction the boys learned that Sandy, the stage
driver, was about to start for The Forks, and they had no trouble in
engaging passage. They barely had time to eat and say goodbye to Jeb
when Sandy was ready for the start. Although the road was in
terrible shape, the ride down was without incident and they arrived
in good time for supper.
Greatly to his surprise, Bob had learned from Sandy that they had
not as yet succeeded in starting the jam.
“Leastwise they hadn’t when I came up day afore yesterday,” he
declared.
“What’s the trouble?” Bob asked.
“I dunno,” Sandy replied. “I heard Sim say as how they’d shot off
enough dynamite ter blast out a whole mountain, but they hadn’t
budged.”
“It’s very strange,” Bob said, and let the matter drop.
The first man they saw as they entered the hotel office was their
father.
“Dad!” shouted both the boys, as they made a rush for him.
“Thought it was about time you youngsters were getting back,” Mr.
Golden declared, after he had embraced them and greeted Rex.
“But what are you doing up here?” Bob asked.
“I just got here about an hour ago,” Mr. Golden replied. “Jean
’phoned that they couldn’t get the jam started and I thought I’d
better come up and see about it. It’s pretty important that we get
those logs going down the river rather soon, you know,” he smiled.
Bob knew, more from his father’s looks than from what he said, that
he was worried over the delay.
“Why can’t they get them started?” Jack asked impatiently.
“No one seems to know, as far as I can find out,” his father
replied.
“It sure looks fishy to me,” Jack declared.
“I saw Donahue just before I left home and he declared that he was
as anxious to get them started as I was, but I’m afraid he was
stretching it a bit,” Mr. Golden told them, as he led the way into
the dining room.
“I don’t doubt for a single minute but that he had his men jam those
logs there on purpose,” Bob declared, as he drew his chair up to the
table. “But what I can’t understand is how they could fix them so
that dynamite won’t start them.”
“You just wait till we get at ’em and we’ll start something,” Jack
asserted, as he helped himself to a huge plate of baked beans.
“You’re great on starting things,” Bob laughed, “but how about
finishing them?”
“None of your kidding,” Jack laughed back. “I guess I’ve finished
more than one job that you started. There, I guess that’ll hold him
for a while,” he declared with a wink at Rex.
Bob made no reply to the indictment, for he well knew that his
brother was very efficient both at beginning and finishing tasks.
They were about half through supper when Jean Larue, his usually
smiling face wearing a deep frown, entered the dining room.
“Well, Jean, what’s the matter now?” Mr. Golden asked, as the
Frenchman drew his chair up to the table.
“Dem logs, heem no mean to start,” Jean growled, as he reached for
the dish of beans.
“Don’t you worry, Jean,” Bob gibed. “Jack is going out after he eats
his supper and push ’em off for you.”
Jean glanced at the speaker, a puzzled expression on his face. He
always had difficulty in deciding whether or not Bob was serious.
But as he caught the twinkle in the boy’s eyes, a broad grin spread
over his face.
“I tink mebby I better hurry an’ go down der river and tell ’em to
clear der way, oui,” he said soberly.
“Never mind, Jean,” Jack assured him. “They’ll have to take their
chances down below.”
“What seems to be the main trouble,” Bob asked seriously. “Can’t you
find the key log?”
“Oui, we find heem all right, one, two, three, many time, but when
we find heem and blow heem out, heem no key log one time,” Jean
declared with a seriousness which made them all laugh.
It was dark before they had finished supper, and Mr. Golden and the
three boys went at once to their rooms on the second floor, where
they sat for some time discussing the situation.
“Mr. Donahue promised that he would have his crew up here by noon
tomorrow,” Mr. Golden told them. “But,” he added, with a shake of
his head, “you know as well as I do how much dependence can be
placed on what he promises.”
“You bet we do,” Jack said. “I’ll believe it when I see them and not
before. But it seems to me that there must be a key log there that’s
holding these logs. Oh, I know that Jean forgets more about log jams
every night than I ever knew,” he hastened to add, as he saw that
Bob was about to speak. “But you know, ‘fools rush in where angels
fear to tread,’ and I might be lucky enough to find it even when he
can’t. Anyhow, I’m going to have one good look for it in the
morning, and I may surprise you all.”
“Here’s hoping,” Bob smiled, as he began to pull off his clothes.
The boys were tired from their long trip and by nine o’clock they
were sound asleep.
“They certainly are wedged in good and tight.”
It was the next morning. They had eaten an early breakfast and,
accompanied by their father, the boys had hastened out to the jam.
Jean and his small crew were already at work with their peavies
prying out a log here and there. But, as Rex declared, it seemed
like a hopeless task where there were so many thousands of them.
Bob and Jack had put on their calked boots, but Rex and Mr. Golden
were wearing their ordinary shoes.
“They sure are,” Bob answered his brother’s remark, “But it’ll be
all right just as soon as Jack gets his eyes on that key log,” and
he gave Rex a sly wink.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me,”
Jack laughed as he moved out toward the middle of the river.
The boy stepped slowly from log to log close to the head of the jam.
The dark water swirled out from beneath the logs as though trying to
tear them loose. Carefully he examined log after log, hoping that he
might be able to locate the one which might be causing all the
trouble. He had, before now, seen jams held up for days, while the
drivers sought for the key log, when all that was needed to start
the entire mass in motion was a slight movement of a certain log. It
was this log, if such there were, that he was trying to locate. Of
course he was aware that Jean and his men had examined them a number
of times, and having failed to find it he knew that his chances of
success, where they had failed, were slight. But this did not deter
him from his determination to find it, provided it existed.
Slowly he worked his way along until he had reached the center of
the river. Here the logs were piled three or four deep in what
seemed like a hopelessly tangled mass. For some minutes he stood on
one end of a large spruce which reached out for five or six feet
over the water. A significant appearance of the water two or three
feet beneath him had caught his eye.
“There’s a big rock down there, unless I’m very much mistaken,” he
muttered to himself, as he stretched out at full length on the log
in order to get his eyes nearer the water. Eagerly he strained his
eyes to pierce the rushing water. Then, as the sun suddenly came
from behind a cloud, he straightened up.
“I thought so,” he whispered. “And the key log is jammed tight
against it.”
“Found your key log?” Bob called, as Jack started back toward them.
“Mebby,” he replied, as he reached the log on which they were
standing.
“Do you really mean it, Jack?” Mr. Golden asked anxiously.
“Well, of course I can’t be sure, but there’s a big rock out there
in the middle. It’s about a foot and a half under water and there’s
a big log jammed tight up against it.”
“Let’s go look at it,” Bob proposed, as he started jumping from log
to log, closely followed by Jack.
Mr. Golden and Rex followed much more slowly, as they had to be more
careful where they stepped.
“I don’t see any rock,” Bob declared a moment later, as he stood on
the log reaching out over the water.
“Neither could I till I got my eyes close down to it,” Jack
retorted.
“You’re right, as usual,” he acknowledged a moment later, after he
had followed Jack’s example. “And what’s more, I believe that’s the
log that’s doing the trick.”
By this time Mr. Golden and Rex had joined them, and after they too
had stretched out on the log, they agreed with Bob.
“Hello, Jean!” Mr. Golden shouted.
Jean, who at the moment was working well over toward the opposite
shore, raised his head at the shout.
“Come here a minute,” Mr. Golden ordered, beckoning with his hand.
Jean, peavey in hand, came running to them.
“What do you think of it?” Bob asked a moment later, after Jack had
pointed out the situation to him.
“I tink heem bout right,” and the Frenchman cast an admiring glance
toward Jack. “I tink heem key log, oui.”
“See if you can budge it,” Mr. Golden proposed.
But although Jean sank the sharp end of his peavey deep into the log
and exerted all his great strength, he was unable to move it.
“Have to feex heem wid powder, oui,” he panted after he had pushed
and pulled for some minutes.
“It’s going to be a pretty hard job to get the dynamite in the right
place don’t you think, Jean?” Jack asked.
“Oui, heem be ver’ hard but I feex heem,” and the Frenchman started
for the shore while the others sat down on a log to await his
return.
It was only a short time before they saw him coming back unwinding a
coil of wire as he stepped from log to log.
“Where are you going to place it?” Jack asked, as Jean reached them
and took two sticks of dynamite from his pocket.
“I have geet heem down close by dat rock, oui,” Jean replied as he
took off his heavy calked boots and rolled up his trousers.
“He isn’t going to step in that ice cold water, is he?” Rex
whispered to Jack, who was standing close by him.
“He doesn’t mind that,” Jack laughed. “You see a river driver’s feet
are wet about all the time he is on the drive, and they get used to
it.”
“But I should think they would catch their death of cold,” Rex
declared.
“So would I, but they don’t seem to,” Jack laughed. “I guess they
must be immune or something of the kind.”
While they were talking the object of Rex’s concern had walked out
on the overhanging log and had swung himself off to the rock. As he
stood on it the icy water was well above his knees, but as Rex
afterward declared he did not so much as shiver, Feeling with his
toes he soon found a place to his liking and in another minute he
had the two cylinders of dynamite securely fastened between the rock
and the key log.
“Now we soon know if she go bust,” he declared as he jumped back to
the log and quickly drew on his heavy woolen socks and boots.
They all followed him to the shore where he had left the battery.
“You found the key, if that’s the one, and it’s up to you to press
the button, Jack,” Mr. Golden declared, as they waited for the rest
of the crew to join them.
“All right, now. Let heem go bust,” Jean shouted, as the last of the
men jumped to the shore.
Immediately Jack pressed the button while they all held their
breath. A heavy explosion followed and a mass of water was thrown in
the air. For an instant there seemed to be no movement of the logs
and Jack was about to voice his disappointment, when suddenly a
shudder seemed to shake the jam and, with a rending sound, the
foremost logs began slowly to writhe.
“Hurrah! She go bust!” Jean shouted, jumping up and down in his
excitement.
“Bust is right,” Mr. Golden agreed; then turning to Jack, he
declared:
“My hat off to you, son. You’re the champion key log finder of the
outfit.”
“And I’ll take back all I said,” Bob declared, giving his brother a
hearty slap on his back. “You’re it, all right.”
By this time Jean and his men were out in the middle of the river
working like mad as the whole mass of logs, now in motion, was
moving with the current. There was great danger that another log
might catch on the rock and another jam form at any minute.
“We ought to have thirty or forty men here now,” Mr. Golden told
Rex, as he watched the movement of the logs. “Still they may be able
to handle them. You see,” he explained, “if once the head, that is
the part where the logs are piled up, gets past that rock, there is
not much danger of any of the others catching, as the rock is too
far beneath the surface to bother where there is only one layer of
logs.”
Several minutes passed and it seemed that the danger was nearly over
when suddenly, without warning, the movement of the head stopped.
“They’ve caught again,” Bob gasped.
But, even as he spoke, they saw Jean leap to a log which seemed to
be standing nearly on end, and, catching it with his peavey, give it
a sudden twist.
“Good boy, Jean,” Jack shouted.
“He did the trick all right,” Bob added.
“Yes, they’re going again,” Mr. Golden declared, as the mass began
once more to move.
A few minutes later and he heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the
last of the head tumble down.
“There, I think the danger is passed,” he declared in a relieved
tone.