AVAILABLE PRISONER.
We left Kyle Sparwick and his young companions eating supper in the
mouth of the cavern. Blankets and a fire enabled them to spend the night
there very comfortably. Certainly they were much better off than Brick
in his cold and narrow closet.
The little party rose at the first streak of dawn. While Jerry prepared
breakfast, Hamp and Sparwick took a lantern and went deep into the
cavern. With a sharp hunting knife they carved off as much bear's meat
as they thought they could carry. Several of the steaks were fried for
breakfast, and the rest were packed on the sleds.
In little more than an hour after daybreak the party were on the march.
Through slushy snow and a drizzle of raw, misty rain, they tramped back
to the clearing.
Two days had elapsed since Brick's abduction, and, of course, no traces
were visible. Nor had Sparwick expected to find any. He merely used the
spot as a starting point. Thence he led his companions northward, and
during the morning they explored all sorts of secluded nooks in the
vicinity of the lake shore.
At noonday, when the sky cleared and the bitter cold came on, they
crossed Chesumcook, and conducted a rigorous search on the farther
side. Here they met with no better success. About three o'clock
Sparwick declared that most of the likely hiding-places had been looked
into.
"It's queer what has become of the rascals," he said. "I'm inclined ter
think they've struck south, so we'll try that tack next. No use in
tryin' that direction," and he pointed his long arm eastward. "Over thar
stretches a swamp fur miles an' miles. It's full of wild beasts, an' it
ain't possible fur a man to go through it. I never heard of a hunter or
trapper what was in the place. They're all afraid of it."
Jerry and Hamp did not dispute this, for they were familiar with the
swamp's evil reputation.
The anxious searchers pushed on through a wild and rugged country until
sundown. They were then, as nearly as they could judge, several miles
southeast from the lower end of Chesumcook Lake.
They camped in a spruce thicket on the edge of a meadow. By means of a
fire and a lean-to they defied the cold, and spent a fairly comfortable
night.
Breakfast was prepared, and eaten amid a gloomy constraint. When the
luggage was packed, Sparwick lit his pipe, and sat down on a log facing
his companions.
"This is a queer business," he said. "I ain't denyin' that I've kinder
lost my bearin's. We've sarched purty near every place whar them fellers
would likely hev gone with the lad. It looks now as though they had
struck out of the woods. There's a railroad settlement about
twenty-five miles from here--a bit of a place called Kingman."
"But would they take Brick there with them?" asked Hamp.
Sparwick shook his head.
"It ain't likely they'd run such a risk."
"Then they must have murdered Brick," cried Jerry.
He rose to his feet in great excitement.
Sparwick neither denied nor affirmed the assertion. He drew hard at his
pipe, and looked contemplatively across the meadow for nearly a minute
of silence. Then an eager look flashed suddenly upon his face, and he
held up one hand.
"Listen!" he whispered, hoarsely. "Thar's someone comin' through the
woods."
The boys pricked up their ears and looked anxiously around. Yes,
Sparwick was right. Behind the camp, and to the north of the spruce
thicket, two sounds rose clearly on the crisp air, the slight patter of
snowshoes and the rustling and snapping of bushes. The unknown traveler
seemed to be heading directly toward the camp.
"It ain't a crowd of three," whispered Sparwick. "There's only one, from
the sound. He don't know we're here, I reckon."
"Mebbe it's Brick," replied Jerry. "He might have escaped."
"Mebbe it ain't," observed Sparwick. "Nothin' like bein' on the safe
side. Drop behind that log, you fellers, an' have your weapons ready."
The boys quickly obeyed. Sparwick threw a handful of snow on the dying
embers of the fire. Then he snatched a rifle, and threw himself down
beside his companions.
From this safe cover they commanded a view of the edge of the spruce
thicket in both directions. The brisk tread of snowshoes and the
threshing of bushes came nearer and nearer. Now the thicket was seen to
quiver a few feet to the left of the camp. An instant later, to the
amazement of the hidden watchers, Silas Raikes stepped into view.
The man carried a rifle in one of his mittened hands. He paused on the
edge of the meadow, and looked around. A gleam of surprise and fear
flashed into his eyes as he noted the sleds, the lean-to, the charred
embers of the fire. But it was too late to retreat. Sparwick's tall
figure rose before him, and a rifle-barrel sloped into his face.
"Drop that weapon, Raikes. Drop it, or I'll put daylight through you."
The command rang sharp and clear.
Raikes made a step forward, still retaining his rifle.
"That you, Kyle Sparwick?" he exclaimed, in a tone of genuine surprise.
"This is a nice way to greet an old friend. What's got over you? Don't
you know me any more?"
"Yes, I know you, Raikes, Bostick, Madden, Gerber, and whatever other
names you have," growled Sparwick. "Sorry I can't be more polite, but
this here is a business matter. Drop that weapon, I say. You ain't
travlin' any farther jest now."
At that instant Jerry and Hamp rose up from behind the log, concluding
that their services might be needed. Raikes saw them, and his mind
grasped the situation.
A brief look of rage and disappointment distorted his features. Then,
like a flash, he lifted his rifle, and tried to shoot Sparwick.
But the latter was too quick. With his own rifle, he knocked the
other's weapon upward, and it was discharged harmlessly in the air.
With a savage oath, Raikes sprang at his antagonist. They exchanged a
round of heavy blows. Sparwick's weapon was dashed from his hand. Raikes
had nothing left but the shattered stock. Both grappled, and rolled over
in the snow.
Jerry and Hamp looked on with suppressed excitement and anxiety. They
saw no opportunity of interfering; nor was their aid needed. Sparwick
was far more powerful than his opponent. Raikes made a desperate fight,
and quickly exhausted his wind and strength. Sparwick tumbled him over
on his back, and sat upon him.
"Lie still, or I'll smash you," he cried.
Raikes glared sullenly up at his enemy, panting for breath. He had no
intention of renewing the contest. He was played out.
"Well, I reckon you know what we want with you," resumed Sparwick.
"Where's the lad you and Joe Bogle carried off?"
"Don't ask me," muttered Raikes. "You're the one to answer that
question. You robbed the lad, and we tried to overhaul you. When you
gave us the slip the youngster started back to join his friends. If he
never reached them you likely know something about it."
"That's a lie," exclaimed Sparwick. "You're too dumb to live. Listen
here. I was hidin' in the bushes when you attacked the lad. I seen the
whole thing. What did you do with him? Better own up to it."
"If you've murdered Brick you'll hang," cried Jerry, wrathfully.
Raikes looked crestfallen for an instant. Then a last expedient
suggested itself to his fertile mind. He glanced at Jerry.
"Don't you boys be deceived by this ruffian. He is telling a clever lie.
If your friend has disappeared, he is to blame. I don't doubt that he
robbed and murdered that lad, and concealed the----"
"It's false!" interrupted Sparwick. "I've a mind to break your neck!"
He seized his prisoner by the throat, and shook him savagely. Raikes
fought for breath, and in the struggle his coat was torn open, and
thrown back from his breast. Something white peeped from the inner
pocket. Sparwick made a grab, and hauled out two envelopes.
"Letters!" he exclaimed. "One to John Larkins, an' the other to
Frederick Glendale. What's up now?"
Raikes uttered a hoarse cry, and snatched vainly at the letters. Then
his head fell back, and a hopeless expression came over his face. He
mumbled something inaudible. Meanwhile Sparwick had passed both
envelopes to Jerry.
"See what's inside, lad," he said. "I kin make out to read writin', but
no doubt you're better. Anyway, this scamp would snatch 'em out of my
hand."
Hamp looked eagerly over Jerry's shoulder. The first envelope bore the
following address:
MR. FREDERICK GLENDALE, Attorney at Law,
Lears Building, Broadway, New York.
Jerry opened it, and took out a sheet of paper covered with neat and
legible writing. He glanced briefly at it, and his eyes opened wide.
"Listen to this," he cried, excitedly. Then he read aloud: *
dear mr. glendale:--I am a prisoner in a lonely and inaccessible part of
the Maine woods. My captors know who I am, and unless you pay them ten
thousand dollars I will be murdered. The man who gives you this letter
will tell you when and where the sum necessary for my release must be
paid over. I send a letter for my father. Cable it to him at once if you
need his authority to pay the money. There is no other way to get me out
of the fix, so don't be so foolish as to appeal to the police. If the
messenger is harmed, or fails to return here in ten days. I will be
murdered. Don't delay, for my life is at stake. Only ten thousand
dollars will save me. I am writing of my own free will.
Yours sincerely, jim larkins.
Jerry opened the other letter, and glanced through it.
"This is pretty much the same thing," he said. "Brick begs his father to
cable to Mr. Glendale to pay the money at once, and without dispute. Did
you ever hear of such an outrageous scheme of robbery? The whole affair
is as plain as daylight now. Brick is a prisoner some place in the
woods, and Bogle is watching him."
"That's just it," cried Hamp. "The thing was planned weeks ago. It
sounds like a story out of a book. The idea of bandits carrying off a
person for ransom money in the State of Maine."
"Gimme the letters," exclaimed Sparwick. He took them from Jerry, and
held them up high in both hands. Slowly and monotonously he spelled out
their contents.
"Je-ru-sa-lem!" he ejaculated. "Ten thousand dollars! Think of it. Yes,
it's plain now. What a streak of luck to nab this fellow. We'll find the
missing lad before long. An' if I pull him through all right, don't you
boys forget your part of the bargain."
"We won't," assured Jerry.
"We'll stick to the compact," added Hamp.
Sparwick looked relieved.
Then he seized his prisoner, and lifted him rather roughly.
"Stand up, Raikes," he said. "An' no foolin', remember. We've got you in
a tight place, an' we're goin' ter keep you there. I reckon you'll hev
to postpone that little trip to New York."