A TREE THAT BORE STRANGE FRUIT
"Max--Obed, we've got something!" almost shrieked Steve, as he now
tumbled out of his odd bunk very much after the fashion of a dislodged
log, landing with a bump on the floor.
And Steve was not alone in his circus stunt, for several other fellows
were making a hasty and undignified exit at the same time, Bandy-legs
and Toby Jucklin, for instance. Max somehow managed to get on his feet
without so much scrambling; and as for Obed, as he had been sleeping on
the cot closer to the fire, they could already see him hastily pulling
on some clothes.
"Get dressed, and in a hurry!" cried Max, suiting his actions to the
words.
"Oh! listen to him whoop it up, will you?" exclaimed Bandy-legs, as
those loud calls still smote the night air, and in a way that covered
the whole gamut of human utterance.
Toby wanted to say something, too, but though his jaws worked, no
audible sound came forth to explain the agitated state of his mind. They
had luckily prepared for such a sudden call, and had their outer clothes
handy, so that in an incredibly brief space of time all of the boys
managed to get something on.
Then Steve snatched up his Marlin gun. Obed had already done the same
with his rifle, so that when the latter flung wide the door and they
trooped forth, they were in a condition to do battle if necessary, and
at least strike terror into the heart of any skulking marauder.
Max, wise general that he was, had thought of something very essential
to their success. This was nothing more or less than a lantern. They had
been thoughtful enough to fetch one along, a clever little contraption
that took only a small amount of room, and yet afforded considerable
light. Besides, Obed possessed a lantern of the ordinary type, together
with a plentiful supply of oil, looking to the long winter evenings when
he might want to read in order to pass away some of the spare time, that
promised to drag heavily on his hands.
So they poured forth. The cries still continued, and as vociferous as
ever. Indeed, if anything, there was a wilder strain to them now, as
though the fellow who gave utterance to the shouts might be getting
sorely alarmed at his strange condition, and feared the worst.
There was no trouble about deciding which way to go. Even if they did
not have Obed to serve as guide, and pilot the expedition, they could
easily have followed the loud notes of alarm.
Everybody was more or less excited, from Obed down to Max himself, and
small wonder when the fact of their being aroused in the dead of the
night by this fierce racket is taken into consideration.
Hastening in this manner toward the spot where the first trap had been
set, they speedily discovered that the overhanging tree bore strange
fruit. Something grotesque was swinging violently back and forth. It was
a human figure, but hardly recognizable as such, on account of the fact
that it now hung head downward, with one leg firmly gripped by the
tenacious slip-noose, and the other, together with a pair of wildly
flung arms, cutting all sorts of eccentric circles through the air.
Never in all their varied experiences had Max and his three comrades
looked on a more remarkable spectacle than the one by which they were
now greeted. The man's face could not be plainly seen on account of his
coat sagging down partly over his head, so they could not immediately
tell what he looked like; but he certainly possessed a bull-like voice
that, properly trained for opera use might have won him a fair amount of
fame and money, for it was more than usually lusty.
He seemed to divine the fact that those in the cabin must have rushed
out in answer to his shouts. Perhaps he detected the light they carried
with them; or it might be Steve's loud cries caught his strained hearing
at such times as his own breath temporarily failed him.
"Help me, somebody, why don't yuh? I'm strangling to death, I tell yuh.
All the blood's running to my head! I'm seeing a million stars already,
and I'll _die_ if yuh don't cut me down. Hurry! hurry, please do,
somebody!"
Obed looked to Max to say what ought to be done, for already he seemed
to have come under the magical sway of the other's leadership.
"Take hold of him, and tie his hands behind his back before you think to
let him down!" was the sensible advice given by Max.
Thereupon Obed instantly produced some heavy cord and started
operations. While the boy deftly worked, the man continued to plead,
trying to claw at him also; but Obed managed to get his job completed
notwithstanding the interruptions. He was at the same time telling the
unfortunate man to keep quiet, and he would be let down presently.
Steve stood by, gun in hand. He was casting uneasy looks around as
though suspecting that if the fellow had companions near by, as seemed
likely, and they should, recovering from, their alarm attempt his
rescue, it might be his duty to stand them off one and collectively.
Bandy-legs and Toby sprang to where the man dangled. Max was already at
the side of Obed.
"All ready, Obed?" he was heard to say.
"I've spliced his hands up in good style, Max," came the reply.
"Good enough. Now, Toby and Bandy-legs, take hold of him, and lift when
I give you the word. I'll slip the rope off his ankle, and you turn him
right side up. Now, go to it, both of you--yo-heave-o!"
It was quickly done, and the man, upon finding himself placed once more
on his feet, staggered; indeed, he was so "groggy" after his recent
strange experience at swimming in thin air, that only for the supporting
arm of Max he would have fallen flat.
The latter allowed him to stagger backward until he leaned against the
body of the tree under which the novel man-trap had been arranged. He
was breathing hard, but seemed to be recovering from his panic; at least
his cries had utterly ceased, which was one good thing.
So Max flashed the light into his face, while Obed leaned forward and
eagerly stared hard at him. They saw rough lineaments, seamed and
hardened by exposure to the elements; but of course the face was that of
an utter stranger to Max. As for Obed, he was heard to give a _sigh_ of
disappointment, as though he too had failed to recognize any one whom he
had reason to know.
The man by now seemed to have recovered in part. He was looking at the
boys in a peculiar way; Max could not decide on the spur of the moment
whether it was wonder or shrewdness that he saw there as the predominant
trait of the man's features. But at any rate, since he had recovered his
breath to some extent, he should be capable of speaking, and explaining
how it came about he found himself in such a predicament.
"Well, who are you, anyway?" demanded Max, throwing as much sternness
into his voice as he could. "Give an account of yourself, and tell us
why you were creeping about here like a thief in the night?"
"What! me a thief?" shrilled the man, as though, again excited by the
very idea of such a base accusation; "I never had that name, young
feller. Them that knows Jake Storms say he's an honest man, if ever
there was one. I'm only a guide, and a trapper, but nobody ever yet
caught me thievin' or poachin', I'd have yuh know."
"Where's your home, Jake Storms?" continued Max.
"If yuh mean whar do I hang out, it's this way," explained the other.
"Last summer I was up at Paul Smith's place, workin' for the hotel. I
heard some tall stories about the country around old Mount Tom, how full
of fur animals it was, and so I made up my mind to spend the winter
hereabouts. I built me a cabin away up on the other side of the
mountain, and was agoin' to start settin' my traps when I got word that
a gentleman wanted me to come down to Lathrop and git him. Yuh see, his
doctor advised that he spend the winter in the mountains, and he thought
of me, beca'se we'd been in the woods a heap of times in past years. So
I was headin' for Lathrop by a trail I'd run across that took around the
mountain, and meanin' to keep on as long as I could durin' the night,
when all at once something flew up and hit me ker-slap! Say, I thought
it was an earthquake, sure I did. And then I found myself hangin' upside
down, with all the blood runnin' into my head. What's it mean, young
fellers; I give yuh my word I don't get the hang o' it at all."
Max was not surprised to hear the man speak in this fashion. He had
already made up his mind, after that one good look at the other's face,
the prisoner of the barrel trap was a pretty "slick article," as Steve
would have expressed it. And caught in the act, as he had been, it was
to be expected that the fellow would have some kind of reasonable story
to spin, in order to explain his presence there.
All the same, Max did not give the yarn the least credence. Something
told him the other was deliberately lying, and the fluency with which he
delivered that remarkable story announced the self-named Jake Storms an
accomplished fakir, if ever there was one.
So Max, while not wishing to deliberately tell the man to his face that
he was a prevaricator, set about catching him in a little trap. The
others had also heard the explanation given, and were listening, with
puzzled looks on their faces; at least Bandy-legs and Steve and Toby
were, but Obed was shaking his head energetically, as though he put no
faith in fairy tales; especially when coming from such unworthy lips.
"You said you were all alone, didn't you?" demanded Max.
"Why, yes, 'course I was," spluttered the other, uneasily eying the
speaker, who was holding his light so that it shone directly on Jake's
still flushed face.
"Then what did you shout so loud for, if you didn't expect any one to
come to your assistance?" continued Max.
"Oh! say, yuh see, 'course I knowed thar was _somebody_ around. I'd just
discovered signs of a camp, and sniffed smoke. But before I had half a
chance to make out what it meant, why something grabbed me by the leg,
and threw me up like I was agoin' over the treetops. Who wouldn't a
yelled, tell me? I own up I was rattled like everything. Anybody would
be, wouldn't they? I couldn't understand it all; and right now I'm still
agropin' in the dark. What struck me, and why does ye set such traps in
the trail over on this side o' Mount Tom? Ain't the woods free for
anybody to walk in? What have I ever done to any o' yuh to be treated
like this, and have my head nigh jerked from my body. Tell me that,
sonny?"
Max did not answer his question. While the explanation might seem to be
fairly plausible, he felt positive the man was telling a downright lie;
and Max believed he knew an easy way to prove it.
"Watch him, Obed, Steve!" he said to those who were alongside.
"Never fear about that, Max," snapped out Steve; "I've got him covered
with my gun, and if he tries any slick game his name will be Dennis,
and not Jake. Hear that, Mr. Fur Thief, do you? Well, mind how you
tempt me to let fly with a charge of birdshot. I've got a quick temper,
and a quicker finger in the bargain; so settle back where you are."
The man muttered between his set teeth. He was evidently feeling far
from comfortable, because something told him these wideawake lads would
not be so easily hoodwinked as he had fancied.
He was watching the movements of Max Hastings, who had dropped to his
hands and knees, and seemed to be holding his little lantern so that the
light would show him the nature of the ground. Truth to tell, Max and
Obed, when last at the trap, had taken the pains to smooth the ground
over, thus obliterating all previous footprints. This was done from a
double object; it would conceal the fact that work had been carried on
in that particular spot, in case sharp eyes were on the alert; and also
gave a clear field for observation, as was happening just then.
Max quickly found what he was looking for.
"Come here, Obed," he remarked, quietly, and as the other eagerly bent
over, Max went on to say: "You can see that here's another footprint,
and quite different from the one made by his heavier boots. So he _did_
have at least one companion along, perhaps two, for all we know. And
that stamps his story a yarn made out of whole cloth. He came here, just
as you expected, to rob you of your foxes. Killing them wouldn't have
filled the bill so well, unless they made off with the pelts in the
bargain. How about it, Obed?"
"Every word you say is true, Max," breathed the other, indignantly.
"Then we'll certainly not let him go free, that's a dead sure
proposition," ventured Max, decidedly, and in a voice that he meant
should reach the prisoner.
"Glad to hear you settle it that way, boys," remarked Steve, who had
kept one eye on the prisoner and the other in the direction of his
mates. "Shall I march him over to the cabin right away?"
Max gave a look around. He wondered where that other man could be just
then, and whether he was watching them from some neighboring covert,
having by degrees recovered from the near panic into which he had been
thrown at the time his companion was snatched away from his side so
mysteriously, amidst a tremendous din, caused by the shouts of the
seized man, and the rattling of the stones inside the rolling barrel.
But he could see nothing. The little lantern only covered a certain
amount of space with its meagre illumination, and much that was evil
might lurk beyond the radius of its lighted circle.
"Yes, we'll change our base, and go back to the cabin," Max said aloud;
"keep the guns ready for business, and if an attack is made shoot
straight!"
Of course this admonition was delivered in a loud tone, mostly to warn
the unseen party, who might be hovering near; but both gun-bearers gave
evidence of meaning to profit by the advice.