Linda and her companions stopped in front of a large tent that was dimly lighted within by a lantern. Two men were standing inside—one bending over an oil cook-stove, the other at the door.
"We got Linda!" announced "Slats" triumphantly. "Without even smashing her plane!"
He pushed through the doorway, past the other man, and deposited Susie on a cot by the wall of the tent.
The man at the stove, a big, fat, repulsive looking brute, turned around and uttered an ugly, "Hah!"
"Susie hurt?" inquired the tall, thin man who had been standing at the edge of the tent.
"Yeah. Crashed her plane. I've got some scratches meself, but I ain't whinin'!"
"My ankle's broken!" sobbed Susie, unableto suffer any longer in silence. "Hurry up and get some bandages, Doc!"
Linda, who had been standing perfectly still during this conversation, was startled by the use of the name "Doc." Was it possible that this man was a physician? If so, wouldn't he perhaps be above the level of the others—and might she not expect, if not sympathy, at least fair play from him? But "Slats" instantly shattered her hopes with his explanation.
"This is the 'Doc,' Linda," he said. "We call him that because he fixes up all our aches and cuts for us. In a profession like our'n, it ain't safe to meddle with 'saw-bones' and hospitals. They keep records."
Linda smiled at the idea of calling robbery a "profession," but she made no comment.
"So long as you'll be with us fer a while," continued her captor, "I'll interduce you to everybody. That there cook is 'Beefy.' Ain't he a good ad for his own cookin'?"
Linda nodded; she could hardly be expected to laugh at such a poor joke under the circumstances.
"You can go over and wash—there's water inSusie's tent—if you want to, while the 'Doc' fixes Susie up. Then we'll eat."
Glad to be alone for a moment, Linda stepped across to the tent which the man had indicated, hidden behind some pine trees a few yards away. Guiding herself by her flash-light, she found the entrance, and dropped down on a cot inside.
Letting the light go off, she sat, dry-eyed and utterly hopeless, staring into the darkness. What terrible fate was hanging over her, she dared not imagine. Would they torture her, perhaps, if her father refused to raise the ransom, and called the police to his aid?
In these last few hours she had learned to realize how infinitely crueler human-beings were than the elements of nature. The ice and snow, the cold winds of Canada, or the vast, trackless depths of the Atlantic could never bring about such untold agony as these fiends in human form. She almost wished that she had gone down, like Bess Hulbert, in the ocean, before she had lived to learn how evil men could be.
A call from the mess-tent, as she supposed the larger one to be, aroused her from her unhappymeditations, and she hastily turned on the light and washed from a pitcher of water on a soap-box in Susie's tent.
When she returned to the group, she found them already seated about a board table, plunging into the food like hungry animals. Susie, who sat with her bandaged ankle propped up on a box, was the only one who ate with any manners at all. But it had been a long time since Linda had tasted food, and she was too hungry to be deterred by the sight of "Beefy" putting his fingers into his plate. So she sat down next to Susie, and silently started to eat.
She found the meal exceedingly good, and was surprised at her own appetite, for she hardly expected to be able to enjoy anything under the circumstances.
The lantern threw a weird, ghastly light over the strange, ugly faces about her, and the silence was unbroken, except by the noise and clatter of eating. A tenseness took possession of her; she wished desperately that somebody would say something. It was exactly like a horrible dream, whose spell could not be destroyed. And still no one uttered a word until the meal was concluded.
"You girls can go to bed now," Slats announced, finally. "I'll carry you over, Susie, and give you a gun, in case Linda tries to sneak off in the night." He smiled with vicious triumph.
"I'm afraid that wouldn't do me any good," replied Linda, trying to make her voice sound normal. "I haven't an idea where I am."
"On Black Jack Island, in the Okefenokee Swamp," he again told her. "With water all around you. Get that! You can't get away, without a boat or a plane. And I'm tellin' you now, I seen to it that your Bug's bone-dry!"
With a conceited grin, he leaned over and picked up his wife so roughly that she cried out in pain.
When they were alone, the girls took off some of their outer garments, and lay down on their cots. Linda longed to talk, but she was afraid to begin, for fear it would only lead to some sort of punishment. So she lay still, trying to forget her troubles, to believe everything would come out right in the end, when her father paid the ransom.
She was just dozing off, when she was abruptly aroused by agonized sobs from her tent-mate. She sat up and asked her companionwhether there was anything she could get her. But Susie did not answer; she continued to cry wildly like a child of six.
"Oh, my ankle! My ankle!" she moaned. And then she used worse language than any Linda had ever heard—from man or woman.
Linda was sorry for her, but she could not help contrasting this girl's cowardice in the face of physical pain with Dot Crowley's, when the latter had met with a similar accident, and had smiled bravely at the hurt. She thought, too, of Ted Mackay's courage in the hospital, and Susie suffered by the comparisons.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, again.
"No. Only take me to arealdoctor—or a hospital."
"I'd be glad to, if your husband would let me fly my plane!"
"Well, he won't!" There followed more oaths. "What does he care—so long as he ain't the one that's hurt?" She continued to cry hysterically, until a snarling order came from without the tent.
"Shut up your noise!" bawled her husband, and Susie softened her sobbing.
Linda lay very still, thinking. Dared she suggest that the other girl deceive her husband—or would she only be punished for such an idea? She decided to give it a try.
"You must know where the men keep the gasoline," she whispered. "Wouldn't you rather have your ankle fixed right, and not run the chance of being a cripple for life?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Susie, raising her head from her pillow.
"I mean—wait till the men are asleep, and then you tell me where the gas is, and we'll sneak off. I'd take you to a hospital, and I'd promise never to tell on you."
"And lose all that ransom money? Slats'd never forgive me!"
"But what good's money, if you're a cripple?" countered Linda.
"Yeah—I see what you mean," agreed Susie. "Only we'd never get away with it. They'd hear us gettin' out—remember I can't walk by myself.... No, Linda—it's no go."
Disappointed, Linda dropped back on the cot, seeing that further argument was no use, and, fortunately, fell quickly asleep. Had she not been so tired, she would probably have beendisturbed during the night, for Susie tossed and moaned without any regard for her companion. But Linda slept the sleep of exhaustion.
Just as dawn was beginning to show a faint light through the door of the tent, Linda was rudely awakened by a gruff voice. Startled, she looked into the unpleasant face of Susie's husband, and she shuddered as she recalled where she was. The thought flashed into her mind that soldiers and criminals were usually shot at sunrise, and her hands shook with fear. What was the man going to do to her?
"Get up, Linda!" he commanded. "You're working today."
"Working?"
"Yeah. Flying."
"Where?" she demanded, with a trace of hope. If she were allowed to fly, there might be some hope of escape.
"Across the swamp. To an island out in the ocean."
"Oh!"
An island! It sounded like imprisonment. She thought of Napoleon on St. Helena, and she remembered the stories of the cruelties to the French convicts, sentenced to die on an island.Terrible climate, probably, reeking with disease. A slow death that would be far greater torture than being shot—hours of lingering agony, when she would think of her father and her aunt, and of the suffering that she was causing them! And, worst of all, no one to rescue her, as Ted had twice saved her from disasters that were not half so dreadful!
But she did not cry; she was disgusted with tears after the way that Susie had carried on the night before, over her sprained ankle. After all, it was no one else's fault that she had selected this job; she had taken it on, and she must see it through, no matter what the outcome.
When she had washed and dressed, she walked over to the big tent, where she found breakfast ready. Bacon and eggs and coffee—and even oranges! Evidently they meant to feed her well—for this much she could be thankful.
She ate in silence with the three men, for Slats did not carry Susie to the table. When they had finished, and the men were lighting their pipes, Slats pushed back his tin plate and began to talk.
"Our idea in running you down was to get a neat little ransom, Linda," he repeated, with the same triumphant grin which she had grown to loathe. She winced, too, at each repetition of her first name, though there was no way that she could stop him from using it.
"We figgered your old man could come across with a couple hundred thousand to get you back. When we get ready, we'll let him know. But in the meantime, we ain't ready."
He winked knowingly at Beefy, and a cold shiver of fear crept over Linda. If they would only get the thing over quickly! Anything would be better than the awful suspense.
The speaker laughed at her expression of terror.
"Don't be scared, Linda. We ain't a goin' a hurt you.... It just happens we need you for a couple days in our business."
"Your business?" she faltered.
"Yeah. We got some jewelry right here in this tent worth about a hundred grand. We fly across to an island with it, where a steamer picks it up and gets it to our agent in South America."
"But what has that to do with me?" askedLinda. Did they mean to leave her on the island, or send her to South America?
"Just this: we're usin' your Bug and you as pilot fer the job. Susie's the only one of our gang can fly, and now she and the Jenny are busted, we'll use you. Get me?"
Linda nodded, sadly. So she was to be made to play a criminal part in their ugly game! How she wished they would be caught!
"And you needn't scheme to get away," Slats added. "Because I'll be right behind you, with me gun loaded!"
Linda made no reply; after all there was nothing to be said. She must take his orders, or be instantly killed.
"Ready now?" he inquired, satisfied with her silence. "We always work early in the day. Maybe you better come over with me and take a look at your plane, and I'll give you some gas. See if she's O.K."
Dutifully Linda accompanied the man to the edge of the island, and there was the autogiro, safe and sound as ever—her only friend in the world, it seemed!
She looked about her at the marshy water,the trees and vegetation of the swamp, and then up into the sky, which she searched vainly for an airplane. But except for the birds, there was no sign of life in that desolate, vast expanse of land and sky. Not a human habitation in sight!
Desperately, she wished that she could think of some plan to outwit this lawless gang, but everything seemed hopeless, as long as Slats carried that pistol aimed at her head. So she meekly inspected the autogiro and climbed into the cock-pit.
Her companion was in a good humor; he was enjoying the whole situation immensely, pleased at his own cleverness. He liked to fly, and he admired the autogiro; he even went so far as to say he believed he'd keep this one for Susie.
Linda said nothing, but she was thinking what a mistake that would be for him to make. Much as she would hate to lose her autogiro, she realized that its possession would give the gang away to the police. It was one thing to steal jewelry and money, and another to take a plane, of a make of which there were only perhaps a hundred in existence.
They flew over the trees, eastward to the prairie land, and then on through the coastal plain to the Atlantic Ocean. Whether they were crossing Florida or Georgia, Linda did not know, and for once she was not interested in the country. The sun rose as they came to the water, but that beautiful sight, too, made no impression upon the unhappy girl. Nothing but the sight of a plane or a boat—the promise of rescue—could have any meaning for her.
On and on she went, leaving the land behind them, until finally they sighted an island possibly five miles out. The man behind her shouted to her to land, and she circled about, finally coming down on the beach.
As she brought her autogiro to earth, she was once more impressed by the loneliness, the barrenness of it all. No habitation of any kind, not even a tent! Motionless she sat in the cock-pit, wondering whether she couldn't get away while this thief was unloading his treasure.
Slats, however, was too wise for any such trick; he commanded Linda to get out of the plane, and help him carry a heavy box across the island where a growth of bushes concealeda hole in the ground, which was evidently the pre-arranged hiding-place. In silence they buried the treasure and returned to the autogiro.
Retracing their course under his direction, Linda flew back to the encampment. Here they found the others finishing their lunch, and Susie was sitting with them, apparently much brighter and better, for she was laughing and talking to her companions.
As Linda and her captor finished their meal, a stranger put in his stealthy appearance at the door of the tent. He was well-dressed, in riding-breeches, and clean-shaven. Linda's heart gave a wild bound of hope. Was it possible that this man was an officer of the law, and the criminals were caught?
But Beefy's greeting to the visitor instantly dispelled her hopes.
"Hello, Jake!" he exclaimed. "What's new?"
"Everything ripe for tonight," announced the new-comer, briefly. "Ready to start now?"
Slats stood up. "O.K. with me," he said. "Want some grub first, Jake?"
"No—I just ate." The stranger turned smilingly to Linda. "And how's the most famous girl-pilot in the world?"
Linda recoiled in horror. So he too knew all about the plot to catch her! Another member of this terrible gang!
As she did not answer, he shrugged his shoulders.
"Got the lines out about her yet?" he inquired, of the other men.
"No," replied Slats. "We had a smash-up—wrecked Susie and the Jenny, so we'll need Linda to fly her plane for us till this job's over tonight. I'll give you the high sign when I'm ready to let her old man know."
The four men stood together at the door of the tent.
"We're leaving for a day—maybe two," Slats informed Linda. "But Susie's watching you, with a gun. And your plane's dry, so I wouldn't advise to try any get-away. There's swamps everywhere....
"So long...."
A moment later the girls heard the men tramp away to the boat that the new-comer had brought to the edge of the island.
It was with a sigh of relief that Linda watched her captors disappear. Not that she had any hope of getting free—without gasoline—but at least she would not see those dreadful men for a few hours. Susie was not nearly so bad.
"I hope you can cook," remarked the latter, surveying her bandaged ankle.
"Oh, yes," replied Linda. "I've often camped out before."
"Then we can enjoy ourselves for a while. I'm glad to get rid of that gang.... And, Linda—how 'bout if we be friends? No use making things worse by getting mad atme."
"True," admitted Linda, though she wondered what she could possibly find in common with the other girl that might inspire friendship.
Seeing a kettle of water steaming on the oilstove,she set herself to the task of washing the dishes.
"Wish I could help," remarked Susie, in a friendly tone. "But after this there won't be so many dishes—for just the two of us."
"When do you expect them back?" inquired her prisoner.
"Tomorrow morning, probably. If they get their loot."
"Suppose they get caught?" suggested Linda.
"They won't. Don't worry! They've been planning this crack for months, and you can bet everything's all set just right. They never get caught."
Linda sighed. It wasn't very promising.
"Tell me how you got into a gang like this?" she asked, suddenly.
"I fell for Slats," replied the other girl. "Thought he was a rich guy—he spent so much money on me. I was working as a clerk at an airport, and learning to fly. We ran off and got married."
"But when you discovered that he wasn't straight, why didn't you leave him?"
"Couldn't. He said he'd hunt me down, and'bump me off,' if I did. And he meant it, too. Slats isn't afraid of anything.... I saw right away that he didn't want a wife, but a pilot, who'd do what he said.... The only fun I get out of it is in the winter, when we go to Europe or South America, and live like swells. Then he lets me spend all the money I want."
"But doesn't it make you feel dreadful—at night, sometimes, or when you're alone—to think of leading such a wicked life?"
"Now, Linda, be yourself!" answered Susie, flippantly. "No preaching! From you, or anybody else!"
Linda turned away and completed her task in silence. What was the use of talking to a person like that? She knew now what was meant by the term "hard-boiled." If ever a word described anyone, that word described Susie.
She wondered, as she worked, whether it would be worth-while to repeat her suggestion of the night before. Susie's ankle was so much better today that she would not be so eager to get to a real doctor. Still, there could be no harm in trying.
"Wouldn't you like to go off in my autogiro today?" she inquired, without turning around.
Her companion laughed bitterly.
"Not a chance!" she replied. "Didn't you see Beefy take that big can to the boat with him? That wasgas."
"Oh!" exclaimed Linda, her hopes dashed to the ground. "You mean they don't trust you?"
"They don't trust anybody!" announced the other girl, emphatically. "It don't pay—in a game like theirs."
"Would you have gone with me?" inquired Linda. "If they hadn't taken it?"
"I don't know. My ankle's better. But I'm sick and tired of Slats, though I guess I'd miss the cash and the excitement. And I guess I'd be too scared he'd get me in the end if I double-crossed him."
Linda was silent. Now that this hope was frustrated, she must think of something else. Surely this was her chance of escape—with the men away, and her only companion a cripple.
But the swamp—the dreadful swamp was all about her. How far into the depth of the Okefenokee she was, she did not know. It was all a vast unexplored wilderness to her.
"Alive with snakes and wild animals, andalligators, I suppose," she mused. Yet nothing savage could be worse than those three fiends in human flesh who were holding her captive. She determined to face anything rather than them. Yes; she would run away, if it meant swimming the swamp!
There was no use loading herself down with food, she concluded, for most of her trip would be through the water. She would stop at her plane and take out some chocolate, and her knife; thus lightly equipped, she would face the wilderness alone.
"Linda," said Susie, interrupting these thoughts, "will you go to my tent and get me a magazine I have there? I think it's under the cot."
Linda nodded, repressing a smile. She would go, but she would not come back!
Stepping into the smaller tent, she dropped the flap, and picked up her flash-light. Then, raising the wall on the other side, she crept out through the trees to the edge of the island and circled about until she reached the autogiro. This would give her a few minutes extra before Susie should realize that she had gone.
As she stood there beside her plane for amoment, wondering whether she would ever see it again, she had her first real sight of the Okefenokee Swamp from the ground. Cypress and slash pine trees grew in abundance, and heavy moss hung about. In the water all around her, she noticed rushes and water-lilies, and ferns grew everywhere in profusion. Beneath the surface, she could see thick vegetation; would this, she wondered, support her weight if she were to attempt to walk in it?
In the afternoon sunlight the water, the trees, were perfectly still; except for the birds, the silence was profound. How desolate it was! Her wrist-watch informed her that it was already four o'clock. Five hours more, and darkness would come on, enveloping everything in a blackness such as a city-dweller never sees. Even the sky might be hidden by the trees, and the wild animals would be prowling stealthily about in search of food. She shuddered and hesitated.
"But I have an even chance with the animals," she thought. "And with those thieves, I am sure to lose!" So valiantly, she stepped out into the water.
The depth was not great at this point, andshe discovered that, though the soft muck sunk beneath her feet, she could still make progress. The hard rains of July and August had not yet set in, and the "bays," as the stretches of shallow water were called, had not risen to any great height.
Laboriously she waded onward, choosing a thick growth of trees in the distance as her goal. Surely, she thought, where the trees could grow there must be some dry land. If she could make that spot by nightfall, she could hide in their depths and sleep. Then tomorrow she could press on to the westward, and perhaps reach the end of the swamp.
It was a slow, weary progress that she accomplished, and she had to pick her way carefully, measuring the depth of the water with a stick which she had cut from a pine on Black Jack Island, but she kept resolutely on until her watch registered seven o'clock. Then, all of a sudden, the stick sunk so deeply into the muck that she knew she would have to swim, and she hastily ate the chocolate which was to be her evening meal, and plunged forward to swim.
As the time slowly passed, she watched Black Jack Island fading in the distance, and hopeswelled in her heart. She was nearing land at last—perhaps only an island—but even if she were not out of the swamp, at least she would be away from her enemies. She smiled when she pictured the consternation and anger of the men at finding her gone.
She swam on for some distance, now and then pausing to cut the grasses that became entangled about her legs. Her shoes were heavy, but she hated to take them off, for they were a help in the shallow water.
After an hour of this exercise, she was utterly exhausted, and she looked about her in dismay. What if she should drown now, in the midst of her own country—after she had conquered the Atlantic Ocean successfully? The thought was absurd; she steeled herself to press forward, for she was coming nearer to that bank of trees. Surely, there lay safety!
Had she but known it, she was now entering one of the so-called "Gator Roads" of the swamp—channels of water which the alligators followed. But it looked promising to the tired, hungry girl.
The foliage was growing thicker now, and thewater-way narrowing. Some distance on, the trees met overhead, and beautiful moss hung from their branches, shutting out the setting sunlight, and forming a lovely green bower. But Linda was scarcely conscious of this beauty, for she was breathing with difficulty, panting with fatigue. If she could only make that bank—where the land seemed firm!
A big tree had fallen across the water, and she managed to reach it, and to cling to it for support while she rested. Her feet hung down in the muck, and she realized that the water was comparatively shallow. She wanted to laugh aloud in her relief.
Pulling herself up by her hands, she decided to walk the log to the bank, and had just poised herself upon its rather perilous round surface, when she encountered the greatest shock in her life thus far. Not ten yards away, in the very water where she would have been now, had she not mounted the log—was an alligator, at least eight feet long! Brave as she was usually in the face of other dangers, she let out a piercing scream of terror at the sight of this horrible monster.
"Now I've got to walk the log!" she thought. "It's death if I fall off!"
She watched the alligator a minute or two while she regained her self-control, and made sure that he was not moving. Then, with eyes straight ahead, she started to walk the log.
Once, toward the middle, she swayed, but it was only for a second. She straightened herself staunchly and marched on—to dry land.
Oh, the joy of feeling her feet on firm ground again! To know that whatever misfortune might come on the morrow, she was safe for that night at least! She could not drown, or be tortured by enemies; her only danger would come from snakes. She would take the precaution to explore her sleeping-place thoroughly before she lay down.
Weary as she was, she did not stop until she had gone farther into the island. The trees were denser here than they had been at Black Jack; it would be more difficult to land an autogiro, if by chance Susie should follow her. Nevertheless, she resolved to stay hidden as much as possible.
Away from the shore, she finally dropped to the ground and took off her wet shoes and stockings.
"Not that it will do me much good in the morning to start off dry," she thought bitterly. "But anyhow, I don't want to sleep in them." And then she removed her outer garments.
"Wouldn't supper taste good!" she said aloud, envying Susie that well-filled larder at the camp. But Linda knew that there was no danger of her starving so soon, after that big noon-day meal, and she put the thought of food from her mind. Water she could not forget so easily. After half an hour's thirst, she decided to risk a drink from the swamp. Had she but known that the water of the Okefenokee is not poisonous, she would have enjoyed her drink more. The "peat" gives it a queer taste, but it is harmless.
She was relieved, in her return to the water, to see that the alligator had gone—which way, she could not tell. Though she was desolately lonely in that vast abandoned wilderness, she did not care for the companionship of so ugly a beast!
When she returned to the spot which she had selected for her camp, she took her knife from its wet case and cut a few stout sticks from atree. With these she would explore the ground before she lay down, and keep them at her side while she slept, as some sort of protection from snakes.
As with the water, however, Linda's fears regarding snakes proved unnecessary, for the report of a large number of these in the Okefenokee Swamp had been proved by hunters to have been exaggerated. As a matter of fact, Linda did not see one during her entire visit to the swamp.
She waited until the daylight had faded, and darkness completely enveloped the landscape before she lay down to rest. The stars were still visible here and there through the trees, and, as upon the occasion of her lonely flight to Paris, they somehow seemed friendly. After an hour or so, she slipped off to sleep.
Only once during that strange, desolate night did she awaken, and that was when something cold and wet suddenly touched her face. She started up fearfully, seizing a stick with one hand and her knife with the other, squinting her eyes for snakes. Her flash-light had of course been thrown away during her swim, soshe could not immediately identify the enemy that had awakened her.
She laughed out loud when she finally saw what it was. She had rolled over against her shoes, which were still cold and clammy with water!
She went back to sleep again, and did not awaken until the sun was well up in the sky. She had no way of telling the exact time, for her watch refused to go after its bath in the swamp, but Linda judged from the sun that it must be nine o'clock at least. Her clothing was dry, at any rate, and her shoes only a little damp. But what a sight she was, she thought, after that long swim!
She went down to the water's edge to wash, and to drink the water that must serve as her breakfast, and looked carefully about her—into the sky, and on the water—for the sight of her enemies. For she had no doubt that as soon as the thieves returned, they would go in search of her, believing that she could not have gotten far away.
She was relieved to see nothing, no sign of human beings anywhere, and she paused towatch some wild birds fly past overhead. Everything was peaceful and quiet—like a Sunday morning in the country. It was hard to believe that wickedness existed in such a beautiful world.
Then, abruptly, she noticed the soft swish of water not far away from her, and she looked up quickly, expecting to see the alligator again. In that awful second, her worst fears were realized. A canoe, with two men aboard, was coming straight towards her. The thieves! They had sighted her—they were wildly waving their arms.
It was too late to hide!
Defeated, miserable, hopeless, Linda sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands, waiting for the dreaded approach of her enemies. Oh, the cruelty of fate, to deliver her to them again, after her superhuman effort to escape! Bitter tears rushed to her eyes, scalding her face, and she sat as one expecting death, listening to the rhythmic dip of the paddles, as the canoe came closer and closer.
She kept her face hidden until the sound ceased, informing her thereby that the craft had stopped at her side. Tensely she waited for the harsh snarl of her captor's voice. But to her incredulous amazement, she heard instead the soft, deep, well-bred tones of a Southerner!
"Can we be of any help to you, Miss?" inquired the speaker.
Linda looked up instantly into the kind eyes of two exceedingly attractive young men.
"Oh! Please!" she gasped, the tears still running from her eyes. "Yes, please!"
And then, for the first time in her life, Linda Carlton fainted.
When she came to, she was lying on the ground, with two strangers bending over her, one offering her water, and the other hot coffee from a thermos bottle. A warm glow of happiness surged over her as she realized that she was among real human beings—not animals, or criminals. Though not naturally impulsive, she longed to throw her arms about these boys and weep with gratitude. If they had been girls, she would not have hesitated a moment.
Instead, she sat up and smiled her sweetest smile, so that, bedraggled as she was, she was still beautiful. The boys, man-like, each urged his particular offering upon her.
"Put that coffee down, Hal!" commanded the tall, fair youth at her right. "A lady who has just fainted doesn't want coffee."
"I do, though," Linda assured him. "I want water, and coffee—and anything else you have to eat. I fainted from hunger as much as from anything else."
The boy called "Hal" looked pleased at heracceptance of his gift, and he hurried back to the canoe for some food.
"Are you alone?" asked the other, who remained at Linda's side. "And how do you happen to be here?"
"It's a long story," replied the girl, wondering just how much of it she had better tell. It was all so incredulous, that perhaps they wouldn't believe her if she did tell them.
"First have some food," suggested the boy who had gone to the canoe. "How long has it been since you ate?"
"Only yesterday noon—and I even had some chocolate about six o'clock. But after that I waded and swam from Black Jack Island to this place—whatever it is."
"This is 'Billy's Island,'" the boys informed her. "Named after 'Billy Bowlegs,' the Indian who once lived here.... But, Great Guns!" exclaimed Hal, "that's five miles at least! Nobody ever tried to swim the Okefenokee Swamp before!"
"Well, it seemed like twenty-five," remarked Linda. "And I hope nobody ever has to try it again."
She did not go on with her story immediately,for she was too busy eating bananas—one right after another. Nothing had ever tasted so good! Meanwhile, the boys introduced themselves as Hal—short for Harold—Perry, and Jackson Carter, both Juniors at the University of Florida.
"We're both on the archery team at college," Jackson explained. "And we take a little trip into the Okefenokee each summer, to try out our bows and arrows on the wild game here. We camp each night on one of the islands."
"Then you know the Swamp pretty well," remarked Linda, with relief. They would be able to take her back to civilization.
"The southern end of it—yes," replied Hal.
"Now tell us who you are," urged Jackson Carter, regarding Linda with silent admiration. There was no doubt about it, she certainly was an attractive girl.
Linda hesitated a moment, and determined not to mention her first name. She was tired of all the publicity and disaster which her ocean flight had brought her. Besides, these boys might think she was just posing as Linda Carlton, the famous aviatrix, in order to impressthem. She would tell them only her middle name, instead.
"I am Ann Carlton, from Ohio," she replied. "I was flying my new plane when I got lost over the swamp, and had to come down on the first dry land I saw, because my gas was running low, and I didn't know how far the water extended."
"Smashed your plane?" inquired Hal, evidently satisfied with the explanation.
"No. But unfortunately I fell among a gang of thieves, and they stole it, and tried to hold me prisoner on Black Jack Island. But yesterday I got away, as I told you."
Both boys gazed at Linda in admiration and wonder. What a plucky girl she must be!
"Thieves in the swamp!" repeated Hal. "Not Indians?—a lot of Indians used to live here, and they might have come back."
"No. White men—and one girl. Regular thieves, the kind that rob banks and jewelry stores."
"But what were they doing? Hiding from justice?"
"I don't think so," answered Linda. "Because I don't think anybody suspects them inparticular. They have a regular camp on Black Jack Island, and they bring whatever they steal there, and transfer it by airplane to an island in the Atlantic Ocean, where it's picked up by another partner in a boat."
Jackson let out a whistle.
"Pretty slick, aren't they? But they'll get caught sometime."
"I sincerely hope so. Unfortunately, though, nobody could identify them as thieves, because they haven't been caught before."
"You could," remarked Hal.
"Yes, if I ever see them again. Do we have to pass Black Jack Island to get out of the swamp?"
"I'm afraid so—but we needn't go very close to it—it's some distance from the regular 'Gator Road' we always follow."
"'Gator Road'?" repeated Linda. "There aren't any roads in the swamp, are there?"
"They're water channels," Hal explained. "Short for alligator-roads."
Linda shuddered.
"I saw an alligator last night," she told them. "I hope we don't meet any more."
"You poor girl!" exclaimed Jackson. "Itseems to me you've had most every dreadful experience anybody could have in the last twenty-four hours!"
"But they're over now," laughed Linda, wondering what the boys would say if she told them the real account of the kidnapping.
Even now Jackson Carter was looking at her strangely. She seemed like such a nice girl—but what sort of family could she have come from, that would allow her to roam around the country unchaperoned and alone? He himself was of an old-fashioned Southern family, who regarded such independence in young women as mere boldness. Yet Linda Carlton seemed anything but ill-bred, or bold.
"Aren't your family worried about you, Miss Carlton?" he inquired. "So far away—in an airplane?"
"They must be by now," she replied with a pang of distress. "I had promised to wire them every day—and it's been three nights now since I could. My aunt probably is afraid I have been killed."
"Your aunt?"
"Yes. My mother is dead, and my aunt has always taken care of me."
"But she lets you do pretty much as you please I take it. You northern girls certainly are different."
"Well, not exactly." Linda could not explain without telling the whole story of her life, so she decided to let the matter pass. "Hadn't we better be pushing on, if we expect to get out of the swamp before dark?"
"Yes," replied Hal. "But don't set your heart on that, Miss Carlton. I don't know whether we can or not. But we'll get past Black Jack Island, and at least as far as Soldiers' Camp Island."
"Soldiers' Camp Island?" repeated Linda.
"Yes. The story goes that some Civil War soldiers deserted, and hid there. I don't know how true it is, but it certainly is a good place to hide."
"Don't I know!" sighed Linda.
They climbed into the canoe, putting Linda on some blankets in the center, and started upon their journey. For the first time since her visit to the swamp, Linda was at last able to enjoy its beauty. The thick ferns, the cypress trees growing in abundance, the pines and the water-lilies! What a difference a boat could make!Yesterday she hated the rushes and the moss; today she found everything lovely.
Avoiding the island where the thieves were camped, the boys made a wide circle, and did not pass even in sight of it. With each mile of progress, Linda's spirits rose higher and higher, until finally she suggested that they sing. She just had to find some outlet for her joy and thanksgiving.
"It must be long after noon," remarked Jackson, as they finished a familiar college song. "Hadn't we better eat?"
"I see an island ahead—I think it's Soldiers' Camp," replied Hal. "Wouldn't it be nice to stop and make some coffee?"
"I'm hot enough without any fire or hot coffee," returned Jackson, wiping the perspiration from his face. "But I would like to stretch my legs."
"Let me do the cooking!" urged Linda, eagerly. "I'd love to prove some use to you, after all the trouble I've made."
"You haven't been any trouble!" protested Jackson, whose admiration for Linda had been growing by leaps and bounds, in spite of the fact that he could not wholly approve of her.For the past three hours he had been sitting in the stern of the canoe, gazing at her lovely profile, listening to the charm of her soft voice. Yet he knew he had better not allow himself to care for this girl; she was just the type his mother disapproved of, and with Jackson Carter, his mother's wishes were supreme.
They pulled up to the island and unloaded the canoe. There were all sorts of supplies—bacon, canned beans, fruit, and biscuits, as well as tea, coffee, sugar and canned milk. Even a little folding stove to set over a fire, and a coffee-pot.
"What a perfectly delightful spot!" exclaimed Linda, as she walked some distance inland. "Look at these lovely little houses! Why, I could almost live in them myself!"
What she referred to were the clumps, here and there, of cypress trees and overgrowing vines and evergreens, which, as a matter of fact, the hunters often used to camp in during their visits to the swamp. They were very attractive indeed, and would afford complete privacy, Linda thought, if she were obliged to spend another night in the Okefenokee.
The boys made a fire on the edge of the water,and Linda insisted that they go off for half an hour while she prepared the meal. She laughed and sang as she toasted the dry biscuits and the bacon, and boiled the coffee. What fun it was to picnic when you were among friends—even if they were very new ones!
When the boys came back, they each proudly displayed a wild goose, as proof of their ability with the bow and arrow. Then, like three happy, carefree school-children, they sat down to their meal, having forgotten all about the thieves for the time being.
The shock was all the more terrible, therefore, when they suddenly looked up into the sky and saw the autogiro overhead. Linda was the first to identify the plane, to guess what danger they were in. She stumbled to her feet, pulling Jackson with her, and just as she opened her mouth to tell them to flee with her into the depths of the island, a shot rang out from the autogiro, and a bullet whizzed past the little group, so innocently enjoying their picnic!
The robbery which was so carefully planned by the gang of thieves who had kidnapped Linda Carlton, was highly successful. One of the largest banks in Jacksonville was entered just before closing time on the afternoon of June 23rd by four masked robbers, who calmly took thousands of dollars in cash and securities, and escaped to a waiting car, without being identified or caught.
By a secret route these men suddenly disappeared—whither, no one but Linda and Susie knew. By midnight they were back again in the swamp, and by dawn they had reached Black Jack Island.
Exhausted from their journey, three of the men dropped down on their cots and fell instantly asleep. The fourth—Susie's husband—stopped to look into his wife's tent.
Flashing the light inside, he peered throughthe doorway. There was Susie, sleeping peacefully on her cot. But the other bed was empty! "Susie!" he yelled in alarm. "Where's Linda?"
The girl awakened abruptly, and sat up, blinking her eyes at the unexpected light. For a moment she could not think what he meant. Then she remembered her prisoner.
"She's gone," she replied. "Beat it this afternoon."
"How?" he demanded roughly, coming over and shaking her by the arm. Susie winced, and pulled herself free.
"You leave me alone!" she warned him. "How do I know how Linda got away? Could I run after her?"
"No, but you might 'ave watched her!" snarled Slats. "Didn't I tell you to?"
"Watching wouldn't keep her here," retorted Susie.
"Is her Bug still there?" he inquired.
"Yeah. I hobbled over and took a look myself."
"Oh, you did, did you?" Then, worn out and disappointed, Slats started to swear.
Susie sat still, regarding him with contempt.How vulgar such language sounded, when you actually stopped and listened to it! She did not realize it at the time, but just the few hours which she had spent with Linda Carlton had given her a new view-point. Or rather, had brought back her training as a child, before she had "gone bad."
When the man's anger had spent itself in violent words, he began to wonder how on earth Linda could have escaped.
"No human being could get far in this here bog, without a boat or a plane!" he exclaimed. "She must be around here somewhere."
"Why don't you go look for her!" demanded Susie, with a sneer. She was beginning to be glad that Linda had gotten away.
Her husband turned on her savagely.
"Look a here, Susie, if you helped that kid to get away—!" He held up his fist threateningly. "I'll make you sorry! Give you a dose of the medicine I was saving for Linda!"
"What do you mean?" she demanded, trembling.
"This gun!" he replied.
"Well, I didn't," she hastened to assure him."Linda slipped off when I wasn't watching.... But do you mean you were going to shoot Linda?"
"Sure, you fool! That's what kidnappers always do. Bait the big fish till they get the cash, then kill the victim, and ship the corpse. If we sent Linda back alive, she'd have us in the Pen in no time. Our game'd be up."
Susie shivered; she had not realized that the men had any intention of going to that end. True, Slats had once killed a bank messenger, but Susie always excused him on the ground of self-defense. "Hard-boiled" as she was, the idea of shooting an innocent girl like Linda Carlton was too much for her to approve. She felt suddenly sick with the horror of it all.
Slats sat down for a moment on the empty cot, while he thought things over. Linda Carlton must not escape to tell the world of her experience and to give such accurate descriptions of the gang that they would have to be caught. Aside from the matter of the ransom which the kidnapping ought to bring them, they dared not let her go. The case called for immediate action.
"Can you fly that Bug, Susie?" he demanded, abruptly breaking the silence.
"I guess so," replied the girl. "They say they're easier than airplanes."
"O.K. Then we're off. Get dressed as quick as you can."
"But Slats," protested Susie, rubbing her injured ankle, "don't forget I've been hurt!"
"Rats!" was his unsympathetic reply. "Get busy. I'll be getting the gas, and some grub. We'll need coffee—and a lot of it."
Distasteful as the plan was, Susie could do nothing but obey. But she was feeling very miserable as she ate her breakfast, very sorry for the "poor, brave kid," as she called Linda, very resentful against her husband.
The latter helped her down to the autogiro and put her into the pilot's cock-pit, where she sat for some minutes examining the controls. The dawn had changed into daylight, and the swamp was beautiful in the early morning sunrise. But, like Linda Carlton, Susie did not even notice it.
Impatient at the delay, her husband demanded, "Got the idea how to run her?"
"Sure," she replied, listlessly. "Start her up and climb in.... Where do you want to go!"
"Circle all around—flying low, so that we canspot the kid if she's here. If we don't see her in the water, we'll stop at some of the islands, and look there. She can't 'ave got out of this swamp."
"O.K.," agreed Susie.
Without much difficulty the girl ran the autogiro along the edge of the island until it rose into the air. It was easy enough to keep it flying; the test would come when she had to make a landing. But Susie decided never to worry about anything until the time came. Luck was usually with her; her only serious crash had been the one of two days previous, and, after all, there was a reason for that.
Slats, who spurned learning how to fly, because he considered his a master-mind, above such practical work, was, nevertheless, enjoying the ride. He congratulated himself upon his own cleverness in securing this new plane for the gang.
"Like her, Susie?" he shouted, through the speaking-tube.
The girl nodded, indifferently.
"You can have her!" he announced, proudly, as if he were giving her a costly present of his own purchasing.
Susie drew down the corners of her lips in scorn, but made no reply. Didn't he realize that she would never dare fly this autogiro where anyone could see her? That the police all over the country would be on the look-out for this very plane? She was understanding for the first time that money was not much use without freedom.
As she sat in the cock-pit, silently thinking things over, she made up her mind not to try to help Slats in his search. She would have to continue to guide the plane, of course, for she never for one moment forgot the pistol that her husband kept ready to enforce his orders with. But she would not attempt to spot Linda, nor would she inform him if she did happen by chance to see the girl. No; it would be better to let "the poor kid" die by natural causes in the swamp than for her to be killed by Slats in cold-blooded murder.
Over the trees and tropical plants of the swamp they continued to fly, until the sun rose directly overhead, and they knew that it was noon. All the while Slats kept his eyes glued to the ground, without any success. Not a sign of human life did he see. Movements in theswamp—yes—snakes and birds, and even an alligator—but no girl! Yet he felt sure that even if Linda were hiding, she would come out at the sound of the plane, for by this time she would realize that escape was impossible. Driven by the pangs of hunger, she would have to surrender to her fate. But noon passed, and they found no trace of her.
Perhaps she was dead by this time, the man thought bitterly—killed by a snake, or drowned in the treacherous water! He would not mind that, if he could only find her dead body. Without it, without the assurance that she was not still at large, he dared not seek a reward. What a lot of money he would be losing!
"We'll land on an island, and have some grub," he shouted to his companion. "Fly south to 'Soldiers' Camp.'"
"O.K.," replied the girl, beginning to doubt her ability to make a landing. But she was afraid to disobey—and besides, they had to come down sometime.
After that things happened with a rapidity that must have startled the peaceful bird-life in the Okefenokee Swamp. Approaching the island, Susie and her husband spotted the carefreepicnic at the same moment, and the former made a sudden, sharp turn in the hope of hiding the sight from Slats. At the same instant, he took out his pistol and fired at the group—at Linda in particular—missing her only because of Susie's rapid change of the position of the plane.
The sharp angle had its effect upon the pilot; she lurched over, striking her injured ankle against the rudder, swerving the plane violently to the other side. Panic-stricken, she tried to right the plane, but she had not even throttled the engine down to a landing speed. The inevitable crash followed. With an impact that was frightful, the autogiro headed for a tree with relentless speed, struck it and bounced thirty feet into the air.
By some miracle Susie, crouched as she was in the cock-pit, was not thrown out, but her husband, who had not taken the precaution to wear a safety-belt, was bounced wildly into the air, and landed, face-downward, on a rock.
During all this excitement, Linda and her companions stood tensely rooted to the spot, the girl gripping Jackson Carter's hand as if he were her one support. As the crash came,she dropped her head on his shoulder and moaned aloud, totally unconscious of the fact that the young man was still little more than a stranger to her.
A cry from Susie aroused her to the fact that the girl was still alive. Ignoring the man who had brought about the catastrophe by his hasty shot, all three young people rushed to Susie's aid.
The plane was only partially turned over; the rotor and the wheels were injured, and the nose smashed, but it did not look to Linda as if there had been any serious harm to the engine. Susie's head was cut, and two teeth were knocked out, but apparently no bones had been broken. Very carefully the boys lifted her from the cock-pit and laid her on the ground.
"I have a first-aid kit in the canoe," said Hal, immediately. "I'll get it and fix up this cut. It doesn't seem awfully deep."
"Does it hurt very much, Susie?" asked Linda, offering her a drink of water.
"Not as much as my ankle. And my poor mouth! Without these teeth! My looks are ruined!"
"No, they're not," answered Linda, comfortingly."Any good dentist can fix you up so nobody will ever know the difference."
Still no one said anything about the man who was lying so silently on the rock a dozen yards away. It was Hal Perry, returning from the canoe, who made the announcement which they had all been secretly expecting.
"The man with the gun is dead," he said, quietly, not knowing how Susie would take the news.
"So he got his at last," muttered the latter, with a certain grim satisfaction. "Nobody—not even his widow—is goin' to shed a single tear!"
Half an hour after the accident, Susie expressed a desire to eat, and Linda hastened to supply her with food. While the girl ate her lunch, the little group discussed their plans.
"Is my bag still in the autogiro?" asked Linda, surveying the disreputable suit which she had worn for three days. What a relief it would be to get into clean clothing!
"It was when we left," replied Susie. "If it didn't bounce out when we crashed.... Linda," she added apologetically, "I'm awful sorry about your plane. I—I—didn't mean to crack it up."
"I know you didn't, Susie. I think it can be repaired, if we can get the new parts to this forsaken place. Probably we can—by airplane."
Jackson Carter, who had been only half listening to this conversation, interrupted by tellingthe girls that he and Hal would take care of the burying of the criminal. "Unless," he added, turning to Susie, "you would want to take the body back to your home?"
"We haven't any home," Susie admitted sadly. "And no friends, outside the gang.... No, it's better for him to lie here in this swamp—where he meant to plant Linda."
The implication was lost to the boys, who did not know the story of the kidnapping, and who thought of Linda as "Ann."
"Then first we'll help you get your bag out of the autogiro, Miss Carlton," offered Jackson. "You can go back into one of those little 'houses,' and change into clean clothing, if you want to, while we attend to the burying."
"Wait a minute," urged Linda. "I think we ought to decide what we'll do about tonight. We can't all four get into that canoe, so Susie and I had better stay here, hadn't we? You could wire my aunt for me, couldn't you?"
To Linda's amazement, before either of the boys had a chance to reply, Susie put in a protest.
"It ain't safe for you to be here an hour more than you have to," she said. "Don't forgetthere's still three rough guys hot on your trail.... No, I'll stay alone, if you leave me some grub, and a blanket. You can come back for me when you bring somebody to fix your plane." This generous offer came as a complete surprise to Linda; she had not realized before that this girl had swung over to her side. What a splendid sign it was! Susie must have decided to cut free from these criminals, now that her husband was dead.
"That's great of you, Susie," replied Linda. "And you needn't worry that I'll ever tell the authorities anything bad about you! I was afraid I oughtn't to leave you alone—but if you really don't mind——"
The other girl shrugged her shoulders.
"I'll get along O.K. I'm used to being left by myself. But don't stay away too long."
The arrangements suited the boys perfectly, for they were anxious to be out of the swamp as soon as possible. With fast paddling, they ought to be able to reach a little town in Florida by dark, where they believed that they could hire an automobile to take them home.
Fifteen minutes later Linda stepped out from the enclosure, dressed in a pale blue voile—theonly dress she carried in her bag, for she had shipped her trunk to Atlanta, where she had expected to report for work. The wearing of clean clothing was a pleasure second only to that of using a comb and a tooth-brush. She felt like a different girl.
If she had seemed pretty to Jackson Carter before, in that disheveled green linen suit, she was radiantly beautiful now. Returning from his gruesome task, he stood still, lost in admiration.
Linda laughed at his amazement.
"Do I look like another girl?" she inquired.
"The same girl—glorified," he answered, with awe.
Having unloaded the canoe of its food and blankets, and assured themselves that Susie was able to hobble around with the aid of a stick, the three young people pushed off. It was only three o'clock; all these occurrences—the crash, the death of the criminal, his burial—had taken place in less than two hours!
For some time the boys paddled forward in silence, each of the three occupants of the canoe lost in his or her own thoughts. Hal was going over the exciting events of the last two hours;Jackson was thinking of Linda—or "Ann"—Carlton, and wondering whether her hiding her head on his shoulder had meant that she cared for him. Linda's mind, however, was occupied with the immediate future—with the part she might play in assisting the police to catch those arch criminals who were still at large.
It was she who first broke the silence.
"What would be the nearest large city to this southern end of the swamp?" she inquired.
"Jacksonville, Florida," replied Hal, immediately. "That's where we both live."
"Then that's where I want to go," announced Linda. "Have they a good police department?"
"Best in the country," boasted Jackson.... "Miss Carlton," he added, "would you stay at our home while you are in the city?"
"I'd love to," agreed the girl immediately. All through the South, until she had lost her way in the Okefenokee, she had met with this same southern hospitality, and had found it charming.
Jackson Carter was overjoyed at her acceptance, yet he was a little fearful of the reception his mother would give to a girl who was so different from all his other friends. Surely,however, the older woman must see how fine Miss Carlton was, and accept her for her own lovely charm.
The hours passed swiftly and the daylight was fast fading when the boys finally informed Linda that she was out of the swamp. With a prayer of thanksgiving, she gave it one last look, hardly able to believe her good fortune. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had been miserably lost in its depths. Now she was free to live again in civilization, untortured by the fears that had held her in such terror for the last three days.
Leaving the canoe in a boat-house on the bank of the small stream which they had been following out of the swamp, they walked to the nearest village and asked for the Post Office. Here Linda made arrangements to send a wire to her aunt, in which, however, she did not mention the fact that she had been kidnapped.
"Have been lost in Okefenokee Swamp," she wrote. "But not hurt. Wire me at Jacksonville, Fla. Love—Linda."
Her next move was to send for her trunk from Atlanta, and to wire for new parts for the autogiro, and while the boys looked up a place toeat supper, she bought a Jacksonville newspaper. She hoped there would be nothing in it about her, for she hated so much publicity.
The first item that struck her eye was the announcement of the Jacksonville Bank robbery. More than a hundred thousand dollars had been stolen—in cash and securities—by four masked bandits on the afternoon of June twenty-third, and still no trace of them had been found.
"That money must be at Black Jack Island," she thought, resolving to get this information to the police early the following day.
She had to go through the paper twice before she found her own name. It was only a tiny notice, among the aviation briefs, and copied from an Ohio paper—stating the fact that Linda Carlton, world-famous aviatrix, had not been heard from for three days, and asking that the air-ports of Georgia report any sight of her autogiro.
Linda breathed a sigh of relief, as she saw how inconspicuous this notice was. For some reason she did not want Jackson Carter or Hal Perry to connect her with the famous flyer, andshe longed above everything to keep the story of the kidnapping from her aunt's ears.
The boys came back with the information that they had found a place to eat, and took Linda to a little frame house where a widow ran a sort of restaurant. The cottage was run-down and out-of-repair, but everything inside was neat and clean, and the food, though plain, was excellent.
"How long will it take us to get to Jacksonville?" inquired Linda, as they finished the meal.
"Two or three hours," replied Hal. "Providing we have no mishaps. Why?"