FIGHTING FIRE WITH FIRE
Ruth felt her heart swell in anger against Rufus Blent, the Logwood real
estate man. If she had not been determined before to aid Jerry Sheming in
every way possible, she was now.
If there was a box of money and papers hidden on Cliff Island, once
belonging to Pete Tilton, the old hunter, Ruth desired to keep Blent from
finding it.
She believed Jerry's story--about the treasure box and all. Rufus Blent's
actions now seemed to prove the existence of such a box. He wanted to find
it. But if the money and papers in the box had belonged to old Pete
Tilton, surely Jerry, as his single living relative, should have the best
right to the "treasure trove."
How to thwart Blent was the question disturbing Ruth Fielding's mind. Of
course, nobody but Jerry had as strong a desire as she to outwit the old
real estate man. The other girls and boys--even Mrs. Tingley--would not
feel as Ruth did about it. She knew that well enough.
If anything was to be done to save Jerry from being arrested on a false
charge and dragged from Cliff Island by Blent, _she_ must bring it about.
Ruth watched the last flakes of the snow falling with a very serious
feeling.
The other young folk were delighted with the breaking of the weather. Now
they could observe Logwood better, and its surroundings. The roughly built
"shanty-town" was dropped down on the edge of the lake, in a clearing.
Much of the stumpage around the place was still raw. The only roads were
timber roads and they were now knee-deep in fresh snow.
There was a dock with a good-sized steamer tied up at it, but there was
too much ice for it to be got out into the lake. The railroad came out of
the woods on one side and disappeared into just as thick a forest on the
other.
The interest of the young people, however, lay in the bit of land that
loomed up some five miles away. Cliff Island contained several hundred
acres of forest and meadow--all now covered with glittering white.
At the nearer end was the new hunting lodge of the Tingleys, with the
neighboring outbuildings. At the far end the island rose to a rugged
promontory perhaps a hundred and fifty feet high, with a single tall pine
tree at the apex.
That western end of the island seemed to be built of huge boulders for the
most part. Here and there the rocks were so steep that the snow did not
cling to them, and they looked black and raw against the background of
dazzling white.
The face of the real cliff--because of which the island had received its
name--was scarcely visible from Logwood. Jerry had told Ruth it was a very
wild and desolate place, and the girl of the Red Hill could easily believe
it.
The crowd had left the inn as soon as the clouds began to break and a ray
or two of sunshine shone forth. Two ox teams were breaking the paths
through the town. The boys and girls went down to the dock, singing and
shouting. Mrs. Tingley and the foreman came behind.
Three other men were making ready a huge punt in which the entire party
might be transported to the island. Later the punt would return for the
extra baggage.
This vehicle for water-travel was a shallow, skiff-like boat, almost as
broad as it was long, and with a square bow and stern. There was a place
for a short mast to be stepped, but, with the lake covered with drifting
ice cakes, it was judged safer to depend upon huge sweeps for motive
power.
With these sweeps, not only could the punt be urged forward at a speed of
perhaps two miles an hour, but the ice-cakes could be pushed aside and a
channel opened through the drifting mass for the passage of the awkward
boat.
Mr. Preston had explained all this to Mrs. Tingley, who was used to
neither the woods nor the lake, and she had agreed that this means of
transportation to Cliff Island was sufficiently safe, though
extraordinary.
"Let's pile in and make a start," urged Ralph Tingley, eagerly. "Why! we
won't get there by dark if we don't hurry."
"And goodness knows we need to get somewhere to eat before long," cried
Jennie Stone. "I am willing to help propel the boat myself, if they'll
show me how."
"You might get out and swim, and drag us behind you, Heavy," suggested one
of the girls. "You're so anxious to get over to the island."
They all were desirous of gaining their destination--there could be no
doubt of that. As they were getting aboard, however, there came a hail
from up the main street of Logwood.
"Hi, yi! Don't you folks go without me! Hi, Preston!"
"Here comes that Blent man," said Mrs. Tingley, with some disgust. "I
suppose we must take him?"
"Well, I wouldn't advise ye to turn him down, Mis' Tingley," urged the
foreman. "No use making him your enemy. I tell you he's got a big
political pull in these parts."
"Is there room for him?"
"Yes. And for the fellow with him. That's Lem Daggett, the constable. Oh,
Rufe is going over with all the legal right on his side. He'll bring Jerry
back here and shut him up for a few days, I suppose."
"But on what charge?" Mrs. Tingley asked, in some distress.
"That won't matter. Some trumped-up charge. Easy enough to do it when you
have a feller like 'Squire Keller to deal with. Oh," said Preston, shaking
his head, "Rufe Blent knows what he's about, you may believe!"
"Who's the old gee-gee with the whiskers?" asked the disrespectful
Isadore, when the real estate man came down to the dock, with the
constable slouching behind him.
"Hurry up, Grandpop!" shouted one of the Tingley boys. "This expedition is
about to start."
Blent scowled at the hilarious crowd. It was plain to be seen that any
supply of milk of human kindness he may have had was long since soured.
Ruth caught Tom Cameron's eye and nodded to him. Helen's twin was a very
good friend of the girl from the Red Mill and he quickly grasped her wish
to speak with him alone.
In a minute he maneuvered so as to get into the stern with his sister's
chum, and there Ruth whispered to him her fears and desires regarding
Blent and Jerry Sheming.
"Say! we ought to help that fellow. See what he did for Jane Ann," said
Tom. "And that old fellow looks so sour he sets my teeth on edge, anyway."
"He is going to do a very mean thing," declared Ruth, decidedly. "Jerry
has done nothing wrong, I am sure."
"We must beat the old fellow."
"But how, Tom? They say he is all-powerful here at Logwood."
"Let me think. I'll be back again," replied Tom, as the boys called him to
come up front.
The punt was already under way. Preston and his three men worked the craft
out slowly into the drifting ice. The grinding of the cakes against the
sides of the boat did not frighten any of the passengers--unless perhaps
Mrs. Tingley herself. She felt responsible for the safety of this whole
party of her daughter's school friends.
The wind was not strong and the drift of the broken ice was slow.
Therefore there was really no danger to be apprehended. The punt was
worked along its course with considerable ease.
The boys had to take their turns at the sweeps; but Tom found time to slip
back to Ruth before they were half-way across to the island.
"Too bad the old fellow doesn't fall overboard," he growled in Ruth's ear.
"Isn't he a snarly old customer?"
"But I suppose the constable has the warrant," Ruth returned, smiling. "So
Mr. Blent's elimination from the scene would not help Jerry much."
"I tell you what--you've got to fight fire with fire," observed Tom, after
a moment of deep reflection.
"Well? What meanest thou, Sir Oracle?"
"Why, they haven't any business to arrest Jerry."
"Agreed."
"Then let's tip him off so that he can run."
"Where will he run to?" demanded Ruth, eagerly.
"Say! that's a big island. And I bet he knows his way all over it."
"Oh! the caves!" exclaimed Ruth.
"What's that?"
"He told me there were caves in it. He can hide in one. And we can get
food to him. Great, Tom--great!"
"Sure it's great. When your Uncle Dudley----"
"But how are we going to warn Jerry to run before this constable catches
him?" interposed Ruth, with less confidence.
"How? You leave that to me," Tom returned, mysteriously.