Kitabı oku: «Motor Boat Boys' River Chase; or, Six Chums Afloat and Ashore», sayfa 10

CHAPTER XIX
ABOARD THE FLOATING RAFT

Now, of course George must be only saying this for effect. He was aware of the fact that they had only one gun among them; and also that Jack would hardly be the person to use that recklessly.

“Listen to George talkin’ through his hat,” whispered Josh, to the skipper of the Tramp, as they continued to draw closer and closer to the white boat.

Again they could hear the two men exchanging hurried words. It looked as if the situation was none of their choosing, and that they did not particularly fancy it.

“If you won’t keep back, then take that!” suddenly shouted the heavy-voiced man; and immediately following his words there came a bright flash, and the report of a pistol.

“Oh!” exclaimed some one aboard the Wireless; and Jack had a shock.

“Anybody hurt over there?” he sang out, as he snatched up his shotgun, and made ready to use it; if the answer was to the effect that damage had been done, Jack might turn the weapon directly on the fleeing craft, and scatter the contents of a shell in that quarter.

“Er, no, guess not,” replied George, “but say, that bullet hummed right past my head, and I nearly broke my neck trying to dodge it. Jack, give ’em a return shot, please do!”

“Bang!” went a second discharge.

This time the man in the fugitive motor boat had evidently turned his attention toward the Tramp, for Jack and those with him plainly heard the peculiar whistle of the passing lead.

It was too much. Jack could stand for a good deal, but this thing of being made a target to suit the whim of a rascally thief galled him. There was one way in which it might be stopped; and this was to let them understand that when George said they were armed it was no idle boast, although they might not be bristling with weapons, as he would have had the others believe.

And so Jack let fly with one barrel of his Marlin, aiming to one side of the white boat, now close at hand.

The charge of shot ploughed up the water. It also caused the head to vanish from the stern of the boat. Evidently that shot created something like a little panic aboard the Saunterer. How were those two men to know but what every fellow pitted against them gripped some sort of dangerous firearm, and with boyish abandon was ready to make use of it?

They did not shoot again, and from this circumstance Jack believed that they were ready to change their plans. If the pursuers could not be frightened off by threats, perhaps they might be content to withdraw, if they could only recover the stolen boat again.

“They’re going to pass the raft by, Jack!” ventured Josh, just then.

“Think so?” the other went on to remark, “well, I’m just guessing otherwise, and that they mean to run alongside. Look sharp, Josh, and you’ll see how they keep on edging that way.”

“What if they leave the motor boat and make a run for the log cabin on the raft – will you crack away at ’em, Jack, and try to hit the fellers in the legs?” was what the excited Josh wanted to know.

Jack had to laugh softly at that.

“You talk as if any one could put a load of shot just where he wanted it, without doing any serious damage,” he remarked. “If that was easy, I’d like to tickle those chaps; but there’s too serious a chance of crippling them for life, or even worse than that. We’re so close now that a load of Sevens would go just like a great big bullet. I’m not ready for that and won’t be unless they hurt one of our crowd. If that happens, they’ll have to look out.”

“There they go, heading in to the logs, just like you said, Jack!” cried Josh, more worked up than ever. “Oh! please give ’em another shot if they jump on the raft. P’raps it might scare the pair so much they’d just throw up their hands, and surrender.”

“Do you see the men who are running the logs down-stream?” demanded Jack.

“Of course I do, two of ’em, and they look like they hardly knew what all this racket means,” Josh continued. “Now, wouldn’t it be just great if they jumped our birds, and got ’em. All we’d have to do then would be to take charge of the scamps, hand over a little reward to the raftsmen, and start back. Look! Jack, there, they are going to strike the logs now. They’ve shut off the motor, you see, and that tells the story. Take it from me we’ve got the fellers bad scared right now. Whoop! George, knock ’em both over with your elephant gun! Quick! soak it to ’em, fellers!”

Of course Josh was only shouting this last in order to further alarm the two fugitives. For some reason or other the men had determined to abandon their boat. Perhaps they found it was commencing to balk, and could not be depended on. Then again, as the others had overtaken them, it was plain that they must open up some other means for escaping.

Jack still clung to his former idea that the men hoped the boys would be satisfied with recovering the stolen Saunterer; and finding that they were ready to defend themselves would withdraw. Then they could force the raftsmen to steer the clumsy craft over to whichever shore they thought safer, and in this way they might escape with their booty.

The white boat came alongside the raft, and bumped heavily.

Two flying figures were seen to leave the boat, and find a footing on the slippery logs. Immediately they did so they started headlong toward the center where the little log-cabin shelter stood; just as though their plans had all been arranged beforehand.

Whether that shout from Josh calling on George to blaze away gave them additional cause for excitement, or the fact of the logs being wet and slippery made them lose their footing more than a few times, the fact was that they took a number of headers, and found the passage a rocky one.

George was still shouting at the top of his voice, and the others joined in, so that the clamor was quite deafening. No wonder the loggers stood there unable to understand what it was all about, and why those two had abandoned the fine white boat that was now drifting alongside the raft.

“Too bad, Jack!” Josh was saying, when the two fugitives, after making their way along the logs finally vanished inside the door of the rude little cabin shelter.

“What is it?” asked the skipper, who had also shut off power, and was bent on bringing the Tramp alongside the raft just below the Saunterer; so that the white boat could be caught and secured, which would be one part of their plans brought to a successful completion.

“He’s got the boodle, Jack, plague take the luck!”

“Yes, I saw that the small man was carrying a bag with him, and of course that holds the stolen bank papers and cash,” Jack went on to say, as the Tramp’s nose came with a gentle bump against the outside log.

“Tell me what to do, Jack!” Josh demanded, knowing that the other must have a plan of some sort in view in making this landing, if their hugging the raft could come under that name.

“Just jump off and take the hawser with you,” said the skipper, quickly.

“Then you mean to tie up here?” asked Josh, as he started to obey directions.

“Yes.”

“Say, Jack, shall I get a grip on the painter of that other boat while I’m on the raft and make her fast?” continued Josh.

“Try and see if you can, because we want to take her back with us, even if we fail to capture the men,” Jack replied.

No doubt George was bringing his Wireless alongside the raft on the other side, for he could see across, and note what the crew of the Tramp seemed to be doing.

Josh was quite active, when spurred on by excitement. When he had made a three-base hit in a game of baseball, he could stretch it to a home run better than any other fellow in town, with the shouts of the crowds to inspire him.

He began to hunt around for some place to fasten the rope, as soon as he had jumped on to the raft. This was so difficult a task, because there were many pegs showing, where the logs were held together. And besides, here and there was a heavy rope passed along, to keep the waves made by steamboats from scattering the logs, which might have been of especial value.

Josh had just managed to accomplish this, and was turning to try and get hold of the bow of the white boat, which was still bumping against the side of the raft, when a terrific splash was heard from across on the opposite edge of the logs.

“George is overboard!” whooped Josh, thinking that the impulsive one must have been in such a big hurry to gain a footing, afraid lest a chum would be ahead of him, that he had miscalculated.

“You’re wrong, it’s Andy; and he’s all to the good; climbing on the logs right now,” came in the well-known tones of the Wireless skipper, and with a touch of sarcasm connected with the words, as though George wanted them to know that he was not the only fellow who could, in his haste, make blunders.

“Sure I am!” echoed Andy, “and the wather ’tis foine, I’m tilling ye, me laddybucks. Now, George, me darlint, whereabouts shall I tie up at?”

“Anywhere, so long as we hold fast,” came the order.

Well, here was a strange condition of affairs, to be sure, Jack thought. He was a little puzzled to know what they ought to do next. The two desperate men had retreated within the shanty on the raft, which they undoubtedly meant to hold, after the manner of a fort, having abandoned Algernon’s motor boat. The pursuers already had this in their possession, so if nothing more were accomplished, they could feel fairly well satisfied with their night’s work.

But Jack felt that George, and for that matter the other two chums, would not wish to drop out of the game then and there. Knowing that the men in the shanty were the robbers, whose apprehension would bring great joy to the bereaved depositors in that robbed Lawrence bank, it would be just like them to want to keep going until they had either accomplished that end, or else found that they were not equal to the task.

Yes, and deep down in his own heart Jack was thinking along pretty much the same lines. He knew what it was to be greeted with cheers; and the desire to accomplish things worth while had a lodgment in Jack’s heart.

They had the two rascals bottled up, as it were; and surely some way could be found whereby they might force their surrender.

But it was not going to be an easy task. Those men knew what they must accept once they were taken into custody; and doubtless they would fight to the last gasp before showing the white flag.

CHAPTER XX
HOLDING THE FORT

All was silent over yonder where the makeshift little cabin shelter stood about the middle of the raft. The men had vanished inside, and were no doubt waiting to see what their enemies attempted next. Perhaps they indulged in the hope that the troublesome boys, assisted by Jenks, would draw off, and leave them to play their game to a finish in their own way.

At the same time they must be ready to defend their new place of refuge bitterly. Jack knew the folly of trying to carry a fort by assault, and he was not silly enough to think that with only George, Josh, Andy and Jenks back of him such a desperate undertaking could be carried out. Even if they received reinforcements in the shape of the two husky loggers, that would not mean the thing would be a walk-over.

Jack was himself on the logs by this time, and Jenks followed him. He hoped the men at bay would not start shooting toward them, for they were more or less exposed to any fire unless they managed to drop down behind a stray log that had at some time gotten loose, and was hauled on top of the raft by the men in charge, rather than have it lost.

“Keep by your boat, George!” was the first thing Jack called out, “or better still, if you can work it around to where the Tramp lies. Perhaps we’d be wise to keep in a bunch, you know.”

“A good idea, Jack,” came the reply. “Andy, do you dare walk across, while I get a move on, and swim around?”

“Me, is it ye arre afther askin’ that? Well, till me what’s to hinder me from doin’ the same?” and with the words the dripping Andy started to clamber along the slippery logs with utter abandon; he had been in the river once, and was just as wet as he could be, so why should he care if he went overboard again?

George started up and was seen to leave the float.

“Good-bye, and good riddance to you!” the big man shouted, as he thrust his head out of the opening in front of the cabin on the raft; from which remark it might be set down that he had not heard what Jack said, and really believed the motor boat was about to pull out for good.

“All right,” replied the other, for it was not difficult to please Josh under most circumstances.

George had gone around the raft, passing below, so that he was now coming up the river, and it was easy for him to bring his boat alongside the raft without any bumping worth mentioning.

He quickly leaped on to the logs, rope in hand, and found a place to fasten his hawser without much trouble.

“Where are they, fellows?” he asked, breathlessly, as he joined the group.

“Still in the shack, but we’re going to try and get them out,” Jack answered.

“That’s right,” Josh broke in just then; “you see, Jack’s going to try a scheme of mine, and offer the men a chance to get off, on condition that they hand over that bag they got. We don’t want to bother with persons, if only we c’n trap that little bag, and take it back with us.”

“Rats!” said George, immediately, for he never had the least bit of faith in any idea which Josh might originate; it would have put a different face on it if Jack had advanced the scheme; but with the other as its sponsor, the thing was impossible in the start and condemned before he heard the particulars.

“Well, you never know,” Josh went on to say, as if he felt hurt at George being so positive before the proposition had even been tried, “they might be that bad scared they’d agree to anything that left ’em their liberty. Anyhow, guess there ain’t any harm in doin’ it, is there?”

“Wait and see!”

And with that Jack turned toward the center of the raft, where the little refuge lay, which the two loggers made use of as sleeping quarters, and to keep themselves dry during a downpour of rain.

“Hello! you in the cabin?” he called out.

“Well, what d’ye want?” came the answer, and as before, it was evidently the big man who did all the talking, for as yet they had not once heard the voice of Slim Jim raised above a low murmur, when he was arguing with his companion.

“We’ve got an offer to make you,” continued Jack.

“Oh! have yuh? Then spit her out, and be quick about it,” came from inside.

“We’ll agree to let you both go, if you hand over that bag, and all that’s in it,” Jack continued. “We’ve got you caged, anyway, and it’s only a question of going for the officers in one of our boats, when we come to a large town; and you’ll be taken, bag and all. Better think it over. And we don’t mean to let you work the sweep of this raft, so you can’t ferry it to the shore. What do you say?”

He was answered with a mocking laugh, and some hard words.

“What d’ye take us for, younker, a pair of fools? Think we went to all that trouble and risk to turn the proceeds over to a passel o’ kids so easy? Don’t you worry ’bout us, now. We got the guns to hold the fort; and when we get good and ready p’raps we’ll skip out. There’s more ways to skin a cat than one. Get that, now?”

“I thought so,” said George, with one of his irritating little laughs. “Now just get busy, Josh, and think up some more fool plays, won’t you? Or else leave the job to your betters, Jack’n me, we’ll play the game for keeps, eh, Jack?”

CHAPTER XXI
MAKING THINGS WARM

“Well, what are we going to do next, Jack?” asked Josh, pretending not to hear those irritating words spoken by George; and evidently determined to keep himself “in the swim” if anything was going on.

“The question is whether we’d better try to force their hand now, or wait a while,” the one spoken to remarked.

“Why should we wait?” queried George, impatiently.

“First of all, there’s some sort of chance that Herb may be along pretty soon, with his Comfort, and that would give us three more fellows,” Jack observed.

“Huh! such as they are, yes,” the skipper of the speed-boat admitted.

“Three would make good showing, anyhow,” Josh broke in to say, seeing his opportunity to agree with Jack, and in this way put George on the other side. “And how’d they know, tell me, that Buster, Herb and our new friend, Algernon, ain’t much on the scrap? Numbers look big, sometimes.”

“Then again,” Jack continued, “as we float down the river we’re apt to sight the lights of some town or city. And then George could go ashore to tell the police what a great chance was passing their doors. I’m not greedy about it, and willing enough to let the proper authorities do the fighting, and get what there is in the game. And yet, it kind of goes against my grain to just lie around here, doing nothing all the time.”

“Yes,” said George, eagerly, “and just think if we happen to drift anywhere near the bank these fellows are apt to give us the laugh and jump overboard, to swim ashore. Before we could get a boat started to chase after ’em they’d land, and snap their fingers at the lot. I say get a move on, and find some way to make ’em surrender. Let’s scare the pair half to death. We c’n do it by setting the cabin on fire, and paying for the damage done!”

“Whew! that’s just like George!” Josh was heard to say, breathlessly.

Jack glanced toward the two loggers.

“Is that sort of a thing possible; could the shanty be burned if we tried?” he asked them.

“Don’t think it kin, son,” came the reply. “Course we never seen it tried; but them logs are kinder green yet, and the spray’s jumped up over the cabin sometimes when we had a headwind. They ain’t no winder in the shack, jest a openin’ like round on the back. I cud crawl up and try the fire game, if so yuh stand ready tuh pony up fur any damage tuh the logs.”

Jack was thinking again.

“Well, it might pay us to make the try,” he said, presently.

“No harm done,” said George, giving Josh a triumphant look, as though he would have him take notice that when really smart fellows started to do things, they meant business every time.

Josh shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that he was ready to be convinced. Meanwhile Jack was talking with the two loggers, trying to find out what their ideas might be with regard to getting a supply of kindling ready. One of them strode off, and presently returned with an ax. The other had picked up several strips of wood that seemed to be fairly dry; and as soon as the sharp-edged tool came he started to cut this into long splinters.

“By the way,” said George, “I’ve got some cotton waste aboard my boat that’s just soaked with oil, and would burn like fun. I’ll get it.”

“And if you go aboard my boat, too, you’ll find a lot more close by the engine, that I was going to throw overboard, because it was getting so sticky,” Jack went on to tell the other, as he was hurrying off.

It really began to look like business, at any rate. Josh found himself interested in spite of himself. No matter whose plan it might be, if it won out he must show a spirit of fairness, and render all the aid he could. Josh was not a small minded fellow, though he did love to tease poor Buster on occasion; and often went out of his way to get a sly dig at the good-natured fat boy.

The strips of wood having been reduced to kindling, and George coming back with the cotton waste, saturated with oil that would burn, even if it was not explosive, it began to look as though the thing was now up to the logger who had offered to make the attempt.

“Here’s a little bottle, and it’s full of gasoline too,” remarked George, as he handed the article over. “When you’re ready to set fire to the pile, just scatter that stuff over it, and take care of your eyebrows, for she goes off with a whoop.”

“Say, they’re on to us,” announced Josh just then.

Looking toward the cabin, Jack could detect a head thrust around the corner; and from this he knew that one of the men had issued forth, wishing to learn what the forces arrayed against himself and his partner might be doing all this while.

So Jack made suggestive motions with his gun, as though tempted to shoot; and the head was withdrawn immediately.

“Is there any opening on the back of the shack?” he asked the men.

“Nope, not that yuh cud notice, son,” came the reply.

“Course, they might dodge out and run around to blaze away at our fire kindler, and then get back under cover again,” suggested George.

“I was thinking if I could work it so as to keep them quiet,” said Jack. “Let’s all move around so as to cover the side where the open door is. Then they’ll be liable to think we’re all there in a bunch. And if we see either man trying to sneak out, I’ll give him a scare, all right.”

To do this they had to go some little distance from the three tied-up motor boats; but Jack knew they could reach them long before the fugitives might, should they conceive the wild idea of making a dash that way. Besides, as a last resort, did he not have his gun, and were there not two trusty shells in its barrels?

Having taken up their position they gave the man who had remained behind the signal that he should get busy. And he started to advance toward the rear of the cabin on the raft.

When he had gone perhaps half way, a figure was seen to push out of the opening. Jack immediately called out:

“Get back there, or I’ll fill you full of shot!” at the same time brandishing his gun in a very threatening manner; which warning appeared to have an influence upon the fellow, since he slipped back again.

But no doubt he had discovered the logger who was advancing toward the rear of the shack, his arms filled with fuel; and it would have to be a very dull person who could not guess what his object must be.

Then there sounded a sudden report. One of the men in the shack had found some small chink between the logs, through which he was firing his revolver. Perhaps he had shot at the logger; and then again it might have been done just to alarm him, and thus cause the scheme for firing the cabin to be given up.

When the man seemed to drop, Jack’s heart was in his throat, for he thought he was looking on a tragedy; but the other logger chuckled, as he remarked:

“Don’t be skeered ’bout Fritz; he ain’t teched a whiff; but jest drapped so’s to crawl out’n range. See him gittin’ over ground right smart now, and notice thet he ain’t let go any o’ the stuff, be he?”

“You’re right, Hanky,” said Josh, promptly enough.

“Bully for Fritz!” burst out the gratified George, whose heart had no doubt taken just as quick a jump as had Jack’s, when that report sounded in a half muffled way, from being inside the cabin.

Another shot followed. But the marksman was evidently shooting at random, and without having a target. At any rate, the logger kept right on creeping toward the shack, and it began to look as though he were bound to get there, too.

But would he be successful in getting the logs to burn?

Jack was rather inclined to doubt it, though of course much depended on whether they were fairly dry, or wet with the spray that may have dashed up over the raft when the wind, being up-river, had made a choppy sea.

“What if the whole blooming raft goes up in smoke?” was the awful suggestion which Josh put forward.

George laughed out loud, it seemed to strike him as so absurd.

“Yes, and worse still, Josh, whatever will we do if we set the river on fire? They’ll certainly have it in for us, believe me. But one thing sure, no danger of you ever setting the river afire with any scheme you think up.”

“Shucks! I don’t believe it’ll work a cent,” remarked Josh. “’Cording to my calculations it’d take more’n that kindlin’ to set logs a-goin’.”

“Don’t forget the oiled rags, Josh,” said George, tauntingly; “yes, and the little bottle of gasolene I let our friend have. Seems to me all that’s going to build up some fire. And as for the rest we’ll have to trust to luck. Perhaps it’ll catch fire, and again she may kick and balk.”

“Like some engines we know about, f’r instance,” Josh wound up with.

“You never saw a motor do better than mine did coming down river, and you know it. I have had a lot of trouble with the thing in the past; but that’s all over now; and I’m on Easy Street with my dandy Wireless. Oh! you can laugh all you want to, Josh, but wait and see.”

“Proof of the puddin’ lies in the eatin’ of the same, George,” said Josh, “and I know you too well to believe you’ll ever be satisfied to run along like Jack and Herb do. But see there, our fire kindler’s got up to the shack, all serene. And now he’s bending down to fix his kindlin’ right. We’ll soon know, George, and if she goes, since it’s your scheme, I’m willing to say you done it with your little hatch-it.”

Just as Josh said, the logger had managed to gain the shelter of the back wall of the shack. Now, in order to keep out the rain without bothering with a door, the cabin had been made with its only opening on the side up-river; so that what the boys had been calling its back was really the front side.

And with the movement of the raft always down-stream; and the night air being from the south just then, if the fire were ever properly started, it would be fanned constantly, and helped along by this process.

Jack kept watch on the dark opening that stood for the entrance, and means of exit. He meant to shoot, if any figure was seen to appear outside this; not with the idea of doing bodily injury, but in the expectation of frightening the man back, before he could make use of his weapon upon the fire-kindler.

So the seconds crept along, until several minutes had passed.

“Gee! why don’t he get a move on?” remarked George, to whom the time hung as if it were weighed down with lead.

“Let him be,” said the other logger, named Hanky. “Fritz is sum slow, but then he gits there in the end. Watch his smoke, son, an’ see!”