TRYING TO GET HOME.
Not far from where he had been resting Joe found a small watercourse,
where he obtained a much-needed drink. By following the watercourse
for a distance of half a dozen rods he came in sight of the lake, at a
point near the southern extremity of Pine Island.
"Well, I've located myself," he told himself, "and that is something. I
wonder if Fred can be anywhere around?"
Knowing where he was, he was now able to define the position of the sun
and rightfully reasoned that it was about nine o'clock in the morning.
"That proves that I slept all night," he said, half aloud. "Wonder
what the folks at home think of my absence? Mother must be dreadfully
worried."
Joe had not forgotten his old-time whistle, which had been used so many
times when out hunting. Now he whistled several times, as loud as he
could.
At first no answer came back, but presently, from up the western shore
of the island, a faint whistle came in return.
"It must be Fred," he cried, joyously, and started in the direction as
rapidly as his rather stiff limbs would permit. Then he whistled again
and now the answering signal came back quite plainly.
"Fred, where are you?" he called out.
"Here I am," was the reply, and in a few minutes more he came face to
face with his chum. Fred was bound hands and feet, and although he had
tried to liberate himself he had found the task hopeless.
"When did you get around, Joe?"
"Not a great while ago."
"Weren't you tied up?"
"Yes, but I managed to loosen myself. Wait till I cut those ropes." And
getting out his knife Joe set his chum free immediately.
"Say, but I feel rank," came from the stout youth. "They drugged us for
fair, didn't they?"
"They certainly did, Fred. I wonder what has become of them?"
"I don't know. When I woke up I was all alone and I've been alone ever
since."
"Let me cut you a stick." Joe did so. "Now then, if they attack us
again there is going to be fun, eh?"
"Right you are. I'd take great pleasure in laying out the fellow who
put us to sleep. What do you make the time to be?"
"About nine o'clock."
"Nine o'clock? Why, the sun is shining!"
"I mean nine o'clock Saturday morning."
"Great mackerels! Joe, you're joking?"
"No, I am not."
"Do you mean to tell me that I've been asleep from yesterday afternoon
to this morning, eight o'clock?"
"That's about the size of it. I guess that fellow gave us all we could
stand. If he had given us more maybe we shouldn't have woke up at all."
At this reply Fred gave a shiver. "Don't talk like that. It gives me
icicles on the backbone. Now we are free, what are we to do?"
"Get home, just as fast as we can."
"That's easily said. We haven't any boat."
"Well, we have got to get to the mainshore somehow, Fred. Remember,
our folks must be dreadfully worried about us, and then that baseball
game----"
"That's it! We must get back in time for that game by all means! I
wouldn't miss it for a farm."
"If some sailboat chanced to come past the island we might hail those
on board."
"Do you know of any place where we would be likely to pick up a
rowboat, or an old canoe?"
"No, but I know where we can pick up a few logs," added Joe, suddenly.
"We might build a raft and ferry ourselves over to the mainland."
"Then let us do that."
Both were hungry, but the most they could find to eat were a few
huckleberries. Had they had time they would have gone fishing for
food, but just now every moment seemed precious.
Joe led the way along the shore, and it was not long before they came
in sight of half a dozen logs, which the waves and wind had washed up
during the Spring freshet.
"We ought to be able to build a raft with these," said Fred. "The
trouble is, we haven't any nails."
"Run back and get those ropes you had around you, Fred. I'll cut some
good, strong vines and branches," answered Joe.
They worked over the raft the best part of half an hour, and even then
the craft did not suit them. But they had done their best and were glad
to note that when shoved into the lake the raft floated quite evenly.
Then they cut two thick branches for sweeps.
"Now for a life on the ocean wave!" cried Joe. "All aboard for London
and Paris!"
"Don't you get funny on that raft!" came warningly from the stout
youth. "The first thing you know you'll upset us both."
They had taken off their shoes and stockings and tied them over their
shoulders. With trousers rolled up, they shoved off from the island,
and the uncertain voyage to the mainland was begun.
"This is a regular Robinson Crusoe way of getting there," was Fred's
comment, as they used the sweeps with caution.
"I don't care, if only we do get there, Fred. They meant to keep us
from playing that game; we must do all we can to thwart their little
trick."
"Well, we are doing it. But this tree branch isn't an oar or a paddle
and this raft isn't a naphtha launch."
"I'd like to know what has become of the fellows who took us over to
the island."
"Oh, they are back to Lakeport, most likely--that is, if Dan Marcy
dares to show himself there. I'll wager Si Voup thinks he has a dead
sure thing of the game."
"No doubt of that. And he will certainly have it easier than if we were
there. Harry will have to reorganize the whole club."
They were about one-quarter of the distance to the mainland when the
raft began to wobble and threaten to go to pieces.
"We ought to have bound the logs tighter together," grumbled Fred.
"I don't believe we need so many," answered Joe. "Supposing we let some
of them go? Then we can bind what remain so much tighter together."
One log was already loose and they let it go, and then undid another on
the opposite side of the raft. While they were using the ropes to bind
what were left Fred uttered an exclamation of dismay:
"My sweep!"
"What of it?"
"There it goes!"
The sweep was only a few yards away, but it drifted further and further
and they could not get it, try their best. The raft now appeared to be
coming apart all over.
"It looks to me as if we'd have to swim for it," observed Joe. "Shall
we turn back to the island? It's closer than the mainshore."
"I don't know," answered the stout youth doubtfully. "I don't want to
get a cramp----"
"Not much, Fred! We'll go back."
They were just turning when they heard a shout from up the lake, and
looking in that direction saw Joel Runnell approaching in a cat-boat.
The old hunter had been out fishing and had quite a mess of the finny
tribe in the bottom of his craft.
"Hullo, there, wot ye doin' on a raft?" he sang out.
"Come and take us on board!" ejaculated Joe. "Hurry up!"
Hearing this, the old hunter lost no time in turning in their
direction, and in a few minutes more they were safe on the cat-boat.
"I'm awfully glad that you came along," said Joe. "Take us to the
mainland just as quickly as you can, will you?"
"To be sure, if ye want it, Joe. But what's up?"
"We have been kidnapped," was the answer, and while the cat-boat moved
for the mainshore both Joe and Fred told their story.
"It must have been Marcy and Si Voup," declared Joel Runnell. "I saw
them coming from the island early this morning. Just as I was starting
out to fish. The third fellow was a stranger to me. He had light,
yellowish hair."
"It must have been Ike Boardman!" cried Fred. "His hair is just that
unusual color."
"Wot are ye a-goin' to do about it when ye git back?" continued the old
hunter.
"I don't know yet," said Joe. "The main thing is to get back in time
for that baseball game."
"When does the game come off?"
"Three o'clock."
"Humph! you'll have a right smart hustle to git to Lakeport by three
o'clock," said Runnell, after consulting his watch. "Might do it if ye
had an extry fast nag, or one of them steam launches."
"I was thinking I might hire a horse over to Dotter's farm," came from
Fred.
"Don't think ye can."
"Why not?"
"I saw Dotter drivin' up to Brookside early this morning. He had two
horses hitched to his wagon, an' I don't think he has any more'n that."
At this both Joe and Fred gave a groan.
"I don't see what we are going to do," said the stout youth. "We can
walk to Perry's, but it's a good mile and a half, and even after we get
there he may not let us have a horse. He's a peculiar man to deal with,
so my father says."
"Well, we have got to do something," said Joe, desperately. "We must
get to Lakeport, hook or crook, by three o'clock!"