The discovery brought neither relief nor elation to Roger. Amazement
smote him dumb for a moment, then came suspicion that this was only
another of Garman's traps. He strove to follow the man's psychology to
an explanation of this move. Was Garman merely playing with him again,
arousing false hopes which would be diabolically crushed?
That seemed the logical reason for the move. What would Garman's next
move be?
"Looks like a trick, doesn't it?" said Higgins.
"Yes."
Roger strode down to the head of the main drainage ditch where two of
the guards had held watch. The forms where the men had lain in the
soft black muck behind the spoil bank were still sharply defined. Their
departure must have occurred during the darkest hours of early morning.
They had left behind them a flask full of colorless liquid, one whiff
of which proved its contents to be moonshine whisky.
"Queer thing," said Blease. "Reckon they must have left in a hurry or
they'd never have forgot their licker."
Higgins and Roger preceded cautiously over the tract, making sure that
no guards lay hidden in the ditches. The trails left by the departing
men were easily followed. They led, not to the river or toward
Garman's as might have been expected, but scattered and lost themselves
to the southward in the tangle morass of the cypress swamp. Here and
there articles had been left behind in what savored of a flight;
unopened canned goods, a deer carcass, a frying pan, a rifle and a pair
of shoes. Roger studied the tracks leading into the swamp and saw that
several of them had been made on the run. It was apparent from all
signs that the guards had fled, driven by fear of something.
"Blease," said Roger suddenly, "you scout up the ox trail and see if
they're gone from Coon Hammock, too; and, Higgins, you slip up towards
the Devil's Playground and see what you can see."
He went on down the main ditch toward its junction with the headwaters
of the Chokohatchee River, keeping a close watch for possible lurking
danger beyond his line. Near the mouth of the ditch he found a dugout
evidently left behind in the flight of the guards. In the dugout he
paddled the rest of the distance down the ditch, hidden from sight by
the spoil banks on the canal's sides.
It was broad daylight when suddenly he checked the canoe at the
entrance to the river. The plop of a pair of paddles propelling a
canoe upstream came from round a bend and Roger lay down flat on the
bottom of the dugout, his rifle resting upon the prow. The rifle
covered the spot where the canoe must come round the bend. He was on
his own land, and he would not allow the guards to regain possession
without a fight. He saw the white prow of the canoe shoot out past a
tuft of saw-grass on the bend, and laid his eye to the sights. Another
stroke of the paddles and the canoe was in full view, and Roger found
his front sight bearing upon a button on the silken shirt which
stretched taut across Garman's great chest.
A roar like the bellow of an angered bull welled from Garman's throat
as he recognized Payne, an inarticulate cry of rage, then a silence.
The current carried the canoe back a trifle and with an oath Garman
drove it forward with his paddle. In the stern was Senator Fairclothe,
dumb and helpless from fear.
Garman struck his paddle in the bottom and held the canoe motionless.
His eyes, usually lazy and indifferent, now blazed beneath the fleshy
brows with the madness of rage. He glared full in the eyes above the
rifle barrel and bellowed:
"Where's Annette! ---- you, Payne, give her up!"
Roger's heart leaped at the words. He felt an impulse to jump up and
shout; but he kept his cheek to the rifle butt and responded:
"Keep to your own side of those stakes, Garman, or I'll sink your
canoe."
"Answer me!" hissed Garman. "Answer me, or by God! the alligators will
make a meal of you!"
"You've got your answer. Keep off and keep out of danger."
"Give her up! Do you hear: give her up or she'll be sorry she ever was
born."
Roger pondered a moment for the right answer.
"Nothing doing," he said firmly.
"You admit she's come here then?"
"Keep your hands in sight, Garman," said Roger. "I'm taking no
chances--now."
"You hear, Fairclothe?" demanded Garman. "She's run away to this
squirt. She's been with him all night. By----! when I get hold of her
there won't be any talk of marriage--now."
"You've got to come and get her first, Garman," retorted Roger. If
Annette had fled she had undoubtedly gone to get away from Garman.
Garman had jumped to the conclusion she had gone to Payne. She had
not; and Roger reasoned that in some manner she had gone down the
river, whence she would eventually reach civilization. Every hour that
he could delay Garman from turning to this surmise would be valuable.
"You've got to come and take her," he repeated. "I won't give her up
now."
"You hear him, Fairclothe?" sneered Garman. "What do you think of your
daughter now? Nicely brought up, nicely watched, I must say. You
poor--fool! You'd better jump in right here and drown yourself. He's
had your Annette all night; now he's going to keep her at the point of
a rifle. I suppose you intend to make the conventional restitution by
marrying her, Payne? By----! I'll spoil that--I'll take her away from
you. I'll turn her back to you when I'm tired of her. Then you can
marry her, Payne! Give her up. I'll wipe you out, including her,
before I'll let her get away like this."
"Come and get her," repeated Roger.
Fairclothe found his voice.
"I demand that you return my daughter, young man."
"I am not holding her against her will. She is free to return to you
if she wishes to do so."
"I demand that I be allowed to speak to her."
"I cannot grant that demand."
"You refuse to allow me to communicate with her?"
"If she wishes to communicate with you I won't prevent it."
"You young scoundrel!"
Roger did not reply.
"If you have harmed my little girl, I warn you you will be punished to
the utmost."
"You talk like a parrot!" snarled Garman. "Talk sense--if you can."
Fairclothe cleared his throat. "Did my daughter Annette come to you of
her own free will?"
Roger hesitated before replying.
"No!" he said defiantly.
"Ah! Garman, Garman, what did I tell you--what did I tell you? I knew
Annette never would leave you of her own free will!"
"You ---- impudent squirt!" said Garman, "You mean to tell me you----
No, you wouldn't be man enough to steal her. Who brought her to you?"
Again Roger debated.
"If you come and get her as you threaten to do, you may find out."
Garman's rage was ghastly to behold. The flesh of his face seemed to
swell in puffs, his nostrils widened, his eyes seemed to recede beneath
the fleshy brows. He held up his great hairy hands, closing and
opening them; but enough reason remained in his rage-drunken mind to
comprehend the iciness of the blue eyes above the rifle barrel.
"By----! Fairclothe, I believe you did it yourself," he cried, venting
his rage on the helpless Senator. "Don't try to talk back. I believe
you did it, you and that dried-up, gold-digger of a sister. But
by----! if you have you'll be yanked out of the Senate and go to jail,
Fairclothe! Don't talk! I'm sick of you."
He jerked his paddle from the bottom and the current gently drew the
canoe back downstream. Roger forced a smile of false triumph upon his
face. He must not let Garman turn elsewhere to look for Annette.
"Licked, eh, Garman?" he taunted. "I'll go back and tell Annette about
it. We'll enjoy it together."
The canoe was drifting down the bend.
"And come in a hurry, Garman, if you intend to get her; because if you
wait long you won't find her here."
Garman appeared not to hear; but he swung the canoe round furiously,
and paddled out of sight down the river.
Higgins and Blease returned soon afterward, each reporting that the
guards to the northward had departed, apparently in the same hurried
fashion as those on the muck land. Payne wasted no time in an attempt
to puzzle out the reason for it. If Garman had withdrawn the men to
lay a new trap, it was obvious that Annette's flight had upset his
plans. For the time being at least his mind was too inflamed with rage
over her daring in thwarting his will, to admit the consideration of
any other problem. He would be too obsessed with thought for
gratifying his revengeful lust to trouble about Payne's land.
Roger related briefly the fact of Garman's visit, omitting mention of
Annette.
"Then he'll be coming back to clean us up, you think?" asked Higgins
hopefully.
"I think so--I've got good reasons for believing so," replied Roger.
"He won't come alone, but with a gang big enough to make sure of the
job. Blease, this isn't your scrap at all, and I suspect it's going to
be a real one. The ox trail is open and the mules can travel it, so
you'd better take a span of them and drive your family out of danger."
Blease deliberated.
"Reckon I won't," he said at last. "Family's safe in there in the
elder bush. I'll stay. Mebbe get a chance to even up with Garman."
Roger selected a high spoil bank near the center of the muck land as
his post. From there he could see any one who approached from the
river or from the cypress swamp. Blease took up a hidden position in
the elderberry jungle, from which he could cover the open prairie
toward Garman's, and Higgins secreted himself in the palmetto scrub of
Flower Prairie. Higgins awaited the expected onslaught merrily; Blease
was hopeful of revenge; and Roger, as he lay with his rifle ready,
smiled because Annette was out of Garman's power. Wherever she was, he
felt she was safe. He pictured her as she had faced Garman fearlessly
two nights before--straight, strong, self-reliant--and was confident
that her absence was of her own doing, and that whatever the
circumstances she was free of the influence of her aunt, of her father,
of the drugging magnetism of Garman, and in control of her own destiny.
As the hours dragged by and he broiled beneath the merciless sun with
no sign of a move on Garman's part, his confidence waned. Had Garman
discovered that Annette was not at Payne's camp? Had he discovered her
whereabouts?
Roger recalled the signs of an unpremeditated flight on the part of
Garman's guards, and his heart sank. Was it possible that their flight
had some connection with Annette's disappearance? They were all
desperate men, the most vicious Of criminals, who had fled to safety in
the cypress swamps because their savagery unfitted them for existence
in a civilized environment. Inflamed by moonshine whiskey they would
be capable of anything, even of forgetting for the moment of Garman's
dominance of them.
Roger swore helplessly, and sought relief from his torturing thoughts
in physical labor. The direct rays of the subtropical sun had dried
and heated the surface of the soft muck land until it radiated heat
like a stone pavement. With the butt of his rifle Roger dug deeply
beneath the surface until he reached damp, cool earth and, scooping a
hollow, stretched out full length to cool his burning body. A buzzard
soared lazily about in the cloudless sky, and his thoughts leaped back
to the flight of the desperadoes.
What a fool he had been to feel assured of Annette's safety merely
because Garman was unaware of her whereabouts! She rode out in the
evening--probably alone. And the rattlesnakes in the swamp were no
more dangerous than the gang which Garman had scattered about the
district!
He rose, and with glasses to his eyes peered through the dazzling heat
waves, hoping against hope to catch some sign that Garman was coming.
He gave up hope. Hours had passed. Garman would have been back long
ago if he was coming. And he would have come if he had continued to
believe that Annette was with Payne.
Garman must have discovered the true circumstances of Annette's
disappearance. In no other way was his failure to return to be
explained. And Roger had been lying there in the dirt, waiting like a
fool, while Garman was taking measures to get her in his power again!
The dugout lay in the big ditch close to its junction with the river;
and the river ran down to Garman's house. Roger stepped into the craft
and shoved off. He was thrusting the boat out into the current of the
river when a faint whip-like crack came to his ears. He shoved back
and leaped ashore.
Higgins had fired a shot up on Flower Prairie.