The lads did not have long to wait. Scarcely had they recovered breath
from their rapid running when the three intruders appeared. The one in
advance carried the lantern, and all carried gripsacks.
"They have come to stay," whispered Budd.
Then he asked, softly:
"Are the doors locked, Judd?"
"Yes, and windows fastened," was the answer, given in the same low
whisper. "I fortunately attended to that when I came over with the
sloop."
The men reached the house and tried the kitchen door, but it withstood
their most vigorous blows.
"I don't understand this," remarked the man with the lantern. "You
could get in easily enough when I was over here early in the spring."
"Perhaps some one is living here now," suggested one of his companions,
cautiously. "There is a wood-pile just beyond the corner."
"So there is," assented the first speaker, holding up his lantern so
that its rays fell on the heap; "but if there is anyone here, I should
have thought our knocking would have aroused him."
"It may be some fisherman who has not yet come home," remarked the third
man.
"We'll try a window," said the leader; and he stepped to the one just at
the left of the door.
"It is also fastened," he added, after trying it, "but it is with a
stick just above it. Tom, hand me your cutter, and I'll take out a
glass and remove the stick."
The man addressed opened his gripsack. For a moment the listening lads
heard the ring of metallic tools striking together; then the searcher
seemed to find what he wanted, and handed his companion the instrument
he had asked for.
There was now heard for an instant a sharp scratching sound, followed by
a jingle of glass, and then the window was raised up.
"We can get in now," remarked the one who had opened the window; and
tossing in his gripsack, he sprung in after it, followed by his
companions.
Budd and his partner rose and crept under the window, listening eagerly
yet apprehensively for the next words the men should speak, for they now
suspected the character of their visitors, and knew it would go hard
with them if they were discovered.
"Some one does live here, boys, sure enough. These things weren't here
at all a few months ago," said the leader, a moment later.
"Well, whoever they are, evidently they are not here just now, and we'll
look around. Perhaps we'll find something worth taking, even if we have
to leave," said the man who had been called Tom.
As his voice reached the listening boys, Budd caught Judd's arm
convulsively.
"I believe I know that man," he whispered into his astonished comrade's
ear.
"All right," was the response of the other men to Tom's suggestion, and
they passed on into the sitting-room.
Budd nudged his chum, crept around to the east end of the house, and
stood up by the sitting room window. The curtain was lowered, but not
quite far enough to reach the sill, and through this narrow opening he
gave a quick look at the three men. Then he pulled Judd, who had
followed him, back into the shadow of the building and said, hoarsely:
"It is as I thought. The man they call Tom is Thomas H. Bagsley, who
worked in the same office with my father for several years, and he is as
big a rascal as there is outside of prison-walls. If I only had him in
my power I'd wring a confession out of him that would change my whole
future life;" and there was a bitterness in the lad's words that was
akin to hatred.
As though to substantiate Budd's declaration, a singular thing happened
within the house. There came a sharp exclamation that led the boys to
again look through the window into the room. The man called Tom stood
by the center-table, with Budd's Bible open in his hand, staring at the
fly-leaf, and it was he from whom the exclamation had come.
"What's the matter?" asked his companions.
"I want you to read that name," he said savagely to them; and looking
over his shoulder they read:
"Budd Boyd. From his mother, Mary Boyd."
"Well, what of it?" asked one of the men.
"He's the son of Henry Boyd," answered Tom, shrilly. "I knew he'd left
Boston, but didn't suppose he had come down this way. We'd better leave
before he gets his eyes on me."
"Why?" asked the same man who had spoken before.
"Because," answered the leader of the trio, "Tom played a little trick
that sent the father to prison, where he is to-day, and he is afraid the
son will take revenge on him should he catch sight of him."
Tom swore a fearful oath.
"Not if I know myself," he replied, fiercely. "Let me see the son, and
I'll serve him worse than the father. All I fear is he may see me and
recognize me; then the little job we contemplate will have to be given
over. He'd set the authorities to watching us, and the sooner we got
out the neighborhood the better."
"Hadn't we better keep watch here till the lad returns, and then drop
him off the island?" suggested the leader, coolly.
"Yes, if we were sure he was alone," answered Tom, readily. "But I
don't believe he is. Likely as not there is a family living here, and
they may have gone over to one of the villages for something, and when
the moon is up will return. Before that time we must be gone."
"Well, perhaps you are right," the leader answered. "We can row over to
Hope Island and make a stay there over Sunday, or until we have formed
our plans. I believe there is no one there as yet."
"That is old Johnson's summer residence, isn't it?" asked Tom.
"Yes. Are you afraid of him, too?"
"No more than I am of the boy. In fact, I'd like to ransack the house
over there, if the way is clear to do so."
"All right; we'll go over there pretty soon, then. But let us first see
what there is for us here. Jed had better run down by the boat,
however, and keep watch, while you and I pick up the things."
Jed departed, at his leader's suggestion, and the two lads deemed it
wise for them to keep out of his way, and so worked cautiously back to
the west side of the island, where they could embark upon their boat at
the first evidence of their being discovered by the intruders.
As they sat down near the wharf Judd said, in low tones:
"I wish we had some way to scare those fellows off before they make a
very extended search of the house. I'm afraid they may find our money."
Before Budd could answer there was a sound of steps coming down the path
toward the wharf. It was evidently one of the robbers, but he came only
a short distance.
"Jed! Jed!" he called in low but distinct tones. "We have found just
the jolliest supper! Come on up and help us eat it."
Jed, who was down by his boat, immediately joined the speaker, and the
two went hurriedly back to the house.
"I wish we had something to eat, too," commented Judd, as the two men
disappeared. "I confess, after working as we did this afternoon, I'm
hungry."
"We'll have something in a few minutes, and those fellows will leave the
house a good deal quicker than they got into it--see if they don't,"
answered Budd. "You just stay right here a few minutes;" and then he
ran down the wharf, jumped into the yawl, and sculled quietly over to
the sloop.
It was not over five minutes before he returned with an old gun, that
had belonged to Judd's father, and which the boys kept on the sloop,
having an occasional use for it, as they went about the bay, to shoot
sea-fowl with, or the more voracious denizens of the sea.
"Come on!" he said to Judd; and again the boys approached the house.
Taking their station once more behind the wood-pile, Budd called out, in
stern tones:
"Hello, Judd! There is some one in the house! Hurry up with the gun!"
A great commotion in the house instantly followed his words. The
robbers evidently were at the kitchen-table eating when he cried out,
and each grabbing up his gripsack, sprung for the window. As they
tumbled, one over the other, out onto the ground, Budd raised the gun
and fired one barrel into the air.
Not a sound save that of running followed the report, and it was
apparent that the intruders were making the best time possible for their
boat. The two boys followed them to the shore, and Budd again fired
into the air as the light craft swiftly disappeared in the
darkness--not, however, until there had been two or three quick flashes
from the boat, followed by sharp reports, and some pistol-balls had
whistled harmlessly above the lads' heads.
Hurrying back to the house, the boys made a careful examination of their
rooms. In the bedroom and sitting-room nothing had been disturbed; and
in the kitchen the broken window, the lighted lantern, and the
partially-eaten food upon the table, were the only evidences of the
robbers' visit.
Somewhat excited, and very watchful lest the intruders should return,
the boys ate their long-delayed supper, and then entered the
sitting-room. Budd sat down by the center-table and took up the Bible
that had caused the robber Tom so much surprise. His face flushed
greatly, and he seemed deeply moved by the emotions with which he was
struggling. At length he said:
"Judd, you heard enough from Thomas Bagsley's lips to-night to prove he
was the man I had declared him to be. You also heard him allude to my
father. In justice to that father's memory, and also that you may know
who I am and how I came to be here, I will now tell you what I have
never before disclosed to a single person."
With these words Budd began a story which explained the mystery that had
hung over him ever since he had appeared in that neighborhood, and
revealed the tremendous burden that was weighing down his young life.