CHAPTER XXV.TORTURED INTO SUBMISSION.
Brick was tempted to push on without looking back. But when a pleading appeal for help rang in his ears he hesitated and stopped.
Bogle had sunk above his waist in the middle of the slushy spot, which was nothing less than a treacherous bog. He was struggling desperately to free himself, and his face was ashen-gray with terror.
“Don’t leave me here, youngster,” he pleaded. “It’s a regular death-trap. I’ll never get out alone. Help me, quick.”
“I can’t do it,” replied Brick. “I’ll only get in myself. Anyway, I would be a fool to put myself in your power. You’ve murdered the man that tried to help me, and you ought to hang for it.”
Bogle swore a terrible oath, and his eyes flashed a bitter hatred at the lad. Again and again he struggled furiously to escape from the oozy quagmire. His body sank lower and lower, until the surface of the bog was almost level with his armpits. Then his rage changed to abject despair.
“For the love of Heaven, save me,” he begged. “Don’t you see that I am being sucked down? I will be dead in five minutes. There lies a log at your feet.Roll it out here. The bog will easily bear your weight.”
Brick looked on with horrified eyes. He could not make up his mind what to do. It was hard to risk the freedom which he had gained at such cost.
Bogle noted the lad’s hesitation.
“Don’t be afraid,” he cried. “I swear to do you no harm. If you get me out of this place, I will set you free. I will give you all the money back, and will guide you to the edge of the swamp. Do you think a dying man would deceive you?”
His voice rose to a shrill pitch, and he extended his arms appealingly.
Brick concluded to trust the ruffian. He could not bear to go away and leave him to such a terrible fate.
“I’ll save you, if I can,” he said, “and I shall expect you to keep your promises.”
“I will, lad,” declared Bogle. “I swear it. Quick, or you will be too late. I’m sinking deeper all the time.”
Brick took hold of the log, and rolled it slowly across the quagmire. Several times he sank to the knees. Finally he twisted the log around so that the farther end came in reach of Bogle’s hands.
The man grasped the log with a glad cry. He pulled and tugged for nearly five minutes, and gradually worked his body loose.
“Give me a lift, youngster,” he said, “and I will be all right.”
Brick walked half-way across the log, and extended the rifle.
Bogle grasped the weapon by the barrel. He came slowly up until his knees rested on the log. He was covered with filthy black mud from head to foot. With an effort he rose to his feet.
A strange gleam of triumph flashed across his crafty face. With one hand he snatched the rifle from Brick, and with the other he seized the lad by the collar.
“I’ve got you again,” he exclaimed. “That was cleverly done.”
Brick was at first too dazed by this unexpected treachery to offer any resistance. He permitted his captor to lead him across the log to firm ground.
Then he struggled to break loose.
“You promised to let me go,” he cried, indignantly.
“Is this the way you reward me for saving your life?”
Bogle laughed harshly.
“Keep quiet,” he said, “or I’ll have to tap you on the head with this rifle stock. What sort of a greenhorn do you take me for? I would have promised anything to get out of that place.”
Brick ceased to struggle. He knew it was useless. With a sinking heart he marched back through the swamp, held tightly by his ruffianly captor.
They soon came in sight of the cabin. When they crossed the threshold they met with a surprise. Raikes was sitting on the bed with a clean white bandage wrapped around his forehead.
“That you, Joe?” he said, feebly. “Where have you been? Did the lad escape?”
Bogle hastily explained.
“I’m sorry for what happened, old man,” he added. “It was an accident, and I was to blame. I thought you were dead when I dashed out of the cabin after this young scamp here.”
“It was a close call,” replied Raikes. “The ball plowed a furrow right across my forehead.”
“You need rest,” said Bogle. “Sleep will fix you up better than medicine.”
“Yes; I reckon so,” admitted Raikes. “But what are you going to do with the lad? No more violence, Joe—for my sake. There are other ways to break him in.”
“It shall be as you say,” replied Bogle, “though I hate most infernally to lose the time. Still, you may not be able to travel for a day or two.”
He hesitated a moment, and thoughtfully knitted his brows. Then he took a piece of rope from his pocket, and cut it in two.
Dexterously tripping Brick to the floor, he bound his ankles and wrists. Then he dragged him across the room, and threw open the door of a small, low closet that was level with the floor.
“Do you see that?” he exclaimed. “It’s not a very snug place, but it’s where you’ll stay until you consent to write those letters. And nothing to eat or drink, remember. If you choose to starve to death, it’s your own lookout.”
A moment later Brick was in the closet, and the door was jammed tightly shut.
The closet was of such small dimensions that Brick could not stretch his body out full length, nor could he sit upright. The floor was hard, and through the log-wall next to the open air came a cold and cutting wind.
His limbs were bound very tightly, and soon he suffered from cramp and shooting pains. But Brick had an obstinate nature, and the thought of yielding was extremely bitter.
Incredible as it may seem, he actually held out all that day, and all of the night that followed. He suffered untold pain, and the torments of hunger, thirst and cold. Morning dawned, and breakfast preparations echoed through the cabin. The closet door was opened a slight crack, and Bogle’s voice asked.
“Have you had enough, youngster?”
“Yes,” muttered Brick, sullenly.
“Will you write those letters?”
“Yes,” in a reluctant tone.
The door opened wide, and Brick was pulled out into the warmth and comfort of the room.
The youth’s bonds were cut, and his stiffened limbs were rubbed with brandy. Then he was seated at the table, and given a hot breakfast. Raikes saw that he wanted for nothing, and even Bogle appeared to be in a rare good humor.
By the time the dishes were cleared away, Brick felt in good shape physically. But his sober and downcast faceshowed the keen humiliation of his defeat. When writing materials were brought out, he took pen and paper, and wrote at Bogle’s dictation. Occasionally his eyes flashed, or his nostrils quivered. But not a word passed his lips. Bogle read the two letters in approving silence. Then he handed them to Raikes, who put them in his breast pocket.
The matter was not again referred to. The day wore monotonously on. Brick sat in a corner most of the time, looking miserable and unhappy. His companions paid no attention to him, but whispered a good deal among themselves.
The weather had moderated, and rain had fallen during the night. About midday the sky cleared, and a strong wind sprang up. It grew bitterly cold out of doors, and a blazing fire was scarcely sufficient to keep the cabin comfortable. This seemed to give great satisfaction to Raikes and Bogle. Brick overheard a few low remarks, such as “start at daybreak,” “hard crust on the snow,” “no danger of discovery.”
When night came, Brick went to sleep between his captors. The broad light of day awakened him. He was alone on the bed, and his wrists were manacled. Bogle was the only other occupant of the cabin. He stood before the stove, stirring the contents of a frying-pan.
CHAPTER XXVI.AVAILABLE PRISONER.
We left Kyle Sparwick and his young companions eating supper in the mouth of the cavern. Blankets and a fire enabled them to spend the night there very comfortably. Certainly they were much better off than Brick in his cold and narrow closet.
The little party rose at the first streak of dawn. While Jerry prepared breakfast, Hamp and Sparwick took a lantern and went deep into the cavern. With a sharp hunting knife they carved off as much bear’s meat as they thought they could carry. Several of the steaks were fried for breakfast, and the rest were packed on the sleds.
In little more than an hour after daybreak the party were on the march. Through slushy snow and a drizzle of raw, misty rain, they tramped back to the clearing.
Two days had elapsed since Brick’s abduction, and, of course, no traces were visible. Nor had Sparwick expected to find any. He merely used the spot as a starting point. Thence he led his companions northward, and during the morning they explored all sorts of secluded nooks in the vicinity of the lake shore.
At noonday, when the sky cleared and the bitter cold came on, they crossed Chesumcook, and conducted a rigorous search on the farther side. Here they met with nobetter success. About three o’clock Sparwick declared that most of the likely hiding-places had been looked into.
“It’s queer what has become of the rascals,” he said. “I’m inclined ter think they’ve struck south, so we’ll try that tack next. No use in tryin’ that direction,” and he pointed his long arm eastward. “Over thar stretches a swamp fur miles an’ miles. It’s full of wild beasts, an’ it ain’t possible fur a man to go through it. I never heard of a hunter or trapper what was in the place. They’re all afraid of it.”
Jerry and Hamp did not dispute this, for they were familiar with the swamp’s evil reputation.
The anxious searchers pushed on through a wild and rugged country until sundown. They were then, as nearly as they could judge, several miles southeast from the lower end of Chesumcook Lake.
They camped in a spruce thicket on the edge of a meadow. By means of a fire and a lean-to they defied the cold, and spent a fairly comfortable night.
Breakfast was prepared, and eaten amid a gloomy constraint. When the luggage was packed, Sparwick lit his pipe, and sat down on a log facing his companions.
“This is a queer business,” he said. “I ain’t denyin’ that I’ve kinder lost my bearin’s. We’ve sarched purty near every place whar them fellers would likely hev gone with the lad. It looks now as though they had struck out of the woods. There’s a railroad settlement about twenty-five miles from here—a bit of a place called Kingman.”
“But would they take Brick there with them?” asked Hamp.
Sparwick shook his head.
“It ain’t likely they’d run such a risk.”
“Then they must have murdered Brick,” cried Jerry.
He rose to his feet in great excitement.
Sparwick neither denied nor affirmed the assertion. He drew hard at his pipe, and looked contemplatively across the meadow for nearly a minute of silence. Then an eager look flashed suddenly upon his face, and he held up one hand.
“Listen!” he whispered, hoarsely. “Thar’s someone comin’ through the woods.”
The boys pricked up their ears and looked anxiously around. Yes, Sparwick was right. Behind the camp, and to the north of the spruce thicket, two sounds rose clearly on the crisp air, the slight patter of snowshoes and the rustling and snapping of bushes. The unknown traveler seemed to be heading directly toward the camp.
“It ain’t a crowd of three,” whispered Sparwick. “There’s only one, from the sound. He don’t know we’re here, I reckon.”
“Mebbe it’s Brick,” replied Jerry. “He might have escaped.”
“Mebbe it ain’t,” observed Sparwick. “Nothin’ like bein’ on the safe side. Drop behind that log, you fellers, an’ have your weapons ready.”
The boys quickly obeyed. Sparwick threw a handful of snow on the dying embers of the fire. Then he snatched a rifle, and threw himself down beside his companions.
From this safe cover they commanded a view of the edge of the spruce thicket in both directions. The brisk tread of snowshoes and the threshing of bushes came nearer and nearer. Now the thicket was seen to quiver a few feet to the left of the camp. An instant later, to the amazement of the hidden watchers, Silas Raikes stepped into view.
The man carried a rifle in one of his mittened hands. He paused on the edge of the meadow, and looked around. A gleam of surprise and fear flashed into his eyes as he noted the sleds, the lean-to, the charred embers of the fire. But it was too late to retreat. Sparwick’s tall figure rose before him, and a rifle-barrel sloped into his face.
“Drop that weapon, Raikes. Drop it, or I’ll put daylight through you.”
The command rang sharp and clear.
Raikes made a step forward, still retaining his rifle.
“That you, Kyle Sparwick?” he exclaimed, in a tone of genuine surprise. “This is a nice way to greet an old friend. What’s got over you? Don’t you know me any more?”
“Yes, I know you, Raikes, Bostick, Madden, Gerber, and whatever other names you have,” growled Sparwick. “Sorry I can’t be more polite, but this here is a business matter. Drop that weapon, I say. You ain’t travlin’ any farther jest now.”
At that instant Jerry and Hamp rose up from behind the log, concluding that their services might beneeded. Raikes saw them, and his mind grasped the situation.
A brief look of rage and disappointment distorted his features. Then, like a flash, he lifted his rifle, and tried to shoot Sparwick.
But the latter was too quick. With his own rifle, he knocked the other’s weapon upward, and it was discharged harmlessly in the air.
With a savage oath, Raikes sprang at his antagonist. They exchanged a round of heavy blows. Sparwick’s weapon was dashed from his hand. Raikes had nothing left but the shattered stock. Both grappled, and rolled over in the snow.
Jerry and Hamp looked on with suppressed excitement and anxiety. They saw no opportunity of interfering; nor was their aid needed. Sparwick was far more powerful than his opponent. Raikes made a desperate fight, and quickly exhausted his wind and strength. Sparwick tumbled him over on his back, and sat upon him.
“Lie still, or I’ll smash you,” he cried.
Raikes glared sullenly up at his enemy, panting for breath. He had no intention of renewing the contest. He was played out.
“Well, I reckon you know what we want with you,” resumed Sparwick. “Where’s the lad you and Joe Bogle carried off?”
“Don’t ask me,” muttered Raikes. “You’re the one to answer that question. You robbed the lad, and we tried to overhaul you. When you gave us the slipthe youngster started back to join his friends. If he never reached them you likely know something about it.”
“That’s a lie,” exclaimed Sparwick. “You’re too dumb to live. Listen here. I was hidin’ in the bushes when you attacked the lad. I seen the whole thing. What did you do with him? Better own up to it.”
“If you’ve murdered Brick you’ll hang,” cried Jerry, wrathfully.
Raikes looked crestfallen for an instant. Then a last expedient suggested itself to his fertile mind. He glanced at Jerry.
“Don’t you boys be deceived by this ruffian. He is telling a clever lie. If your friend has disappeared, he is to blame. I don’t doubt that he robbed and murdered that lad, and concealed the——”
“It’s false!” interrupted Sparwick. “I’ve a mind to break your neck!”
He seized his prisoner by the throat, and shook him savagely. Raikes fought for breath, and in the struggle his coat was torn open, and thrown back from his breast. Something white peeped from the inner pocket. Sparwick made a grab, and hauled out two envelopes.
“Letters!” he exclaimed. “One to John Larkins, an’ the other to Frederick Glendale. What’s up now?”
Raikes uttered a hoarse cry, and snatched vainly at the letters. Then his head fell back, and a hopeless expression came over his face. He mumbled something inaudible. Meanwhile Sparwick had passed both envelopes to Jerry.
“See what’s inside, lad,” he said. “I kin make out to read writin’, but no doubt you’re better. Anyway, this scamp would snatch ’em out of my hand.”
Hamp looked eagerly over Jerry’s shoulder. The first envelope bore the following address:
MR. FREDERICK GLENDALE,Attorney at Law,Lears Building, Broadway, New York.
Jerry opened it, and took out a sheet of paper covered with neat and legible writing. He glanced briefly at it, and his eyes opened wide.
“Listen to this,” he cried, excitedly. Then he read aloud:
Dear Mr. Glendale:—I am a prisoner in a lonely and inaccessible part of the Maine woods. My captors know who I am, and unless you pay them ten thousand dollars I will be murdered. The man who gives you this letter will tell you when and where the sum necessary for my release must be paid over. I send a letter for my father. Cable it to him at once if you need his authority to pay the money. There is no other way to get me out of the fix, so don’t be so foolish as to appeal to the police. If the messenger is harmed, or fails to return here in ten days. I will be murdered. Don’t delay, for my life is at stake. Only ten thousand dollars will save me. I am writing of my own free will.Yours sincerely,Jim Larkins.
Dear Mr. Glendale:—I am a prisoner in a lonely and inaccessible part of the Maine woods. My captors know who I am, and unless you pay them ten thousand dollars I will be murdered. The man who gives you this letter will tell you when and where the sum necessary for my release must be paid over. I send a letter for my father. Cable it to him at once if you need his authority to pay the money. There is no other way to get me out of the fix, so don’t be so foolish as to appeal to the police. If the messenger is harmed, or fails to return here in ten days. I will be murdered. Don’t delay, for my life is at stake. Only ten thousand dollars will save me. I am writing of my own free will.
Yours sincerely,Jim Larkins.
Jerry opened the other letter, and glanced through it.
“This is pretty much the same thing,” he said. “Brick begs his father to cable to Mr. Glendale to pay the money at once, and without dispute. Did you ever hear of such an outrageous scheme of robbery? The whole affair isas plain as daylight now. Brick is a prisoner some place in the woods, and Bogle is watching him.”
“That’s just it,” cried Hamp. “The thing was planned weeks ago. It sounds like a story out of a book. The idea of bandits carrying off a person for ransom money in the State of Maine.”
“Gimme the letters,” exclaimed Sparwick. He took them from Jerry, and held them up high in both hands. Slowly and monotonously he spelled out their contents.
“Je-ru-sa-lem!” he ejaculated. “Ten thousand dollars! Think of it. Yes, it’s plain now. What a streak of luck to nab this fellow. We’ll find the missing lad before long. An’ if I pull him through all right, don’t you boys forget your part of the bargain.”
“We won’t,” assured Jerry.
“We’ll stick to the compact,” added Hamp.
Sparwick looked relieved.
Then he seized his prisoner, and lifted him rather roughly.
“Stand up, Raikes,” he said. “An’ no foolin’, remember. We’ve got you in a tight place, an’ we’re goin’ ter keep you there. I reckon you’ll hev to postpone that little trip to New York.”
CHAPTER XXVII.THROUGH THE WOODS.
Raikes fixed his disheveled clothes, and pulled his cap down over his forehead. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets, and stared meaningly at Sparwick.
“What are you lookin’ at me fur?” demanded Sparwick.
“I was just thinking what a big, lubberly fool you are,” replied Raikes, boldly. “Hold on—don’t get riled. I want to talk to you for a minute or two.”
“Fire away,” said Sparwick.
Raikes shook his head.
“No, not here. It must be a private conversation.”
Sparwick hesitated, and a greedy look came into his eyes.
“No tricks,” he replied, warningly, “or I’ll smash your head.”
He led his prisoner to a clump of bushes a dozen feet distant. Here they conversed in low, eager tones for nearly a quarter of an hour.
Jerry and Hamp looked on with some curiosity and suspicion. They were afraid that Raikes was coaxing Sparwick to turn traitor.
But the end of the palaver did not confirm this supposition. When the men returned, their relations were evidently the same as before. Raikes looked moodyand downcast. Sparwick’s impassive face told nothing. The latter handed the two letters to Jerry.
“Put ’em in your pocket,” he said, “an’ take good care of them. We’re going to start right away.”
“Where for?” Jerry asked.
“To rescue your pardner,” was the reply. “I’ve got everything in shape. This rascal here hes concluded ter help us out, an’ I’ve promised he shan’t be prosecuted. He’ll take us straight to Bogle an’ the lad. We’re goin’ to save Mr. Larkins a cool ten thousand dollars.”
This glib speech quite banished any lingering suspicion that Jerry or Hamp may have felt. They were highly elated by the news, and they helped to pack up with alacrity. In a short time the little party was on the march.
They headed straight back through the spruce woods. Raikes sullenly led the way, and Sparwick followed at his heels with a loaded rifle. The boys brought up the rear, dragging the sleds.
At the end of an hour they entered a low and tangled swamp. They went on through a maze of gloomy, intersecting paths. The boys were surprised to recognize the place.
“I thought this swamp was inaccessible,” said Hamp.
“It were always reckoned so,” replied Sparwick; “but it seems kind o’ different now.”
“Do you mean to say that this is where Brick is confined?” asked Jerry.
“Accordin’ to the prisoner’s statement that’s thecase,” said Sparwick, “an’ I don’t reckon he’d lie about it. I’ve got a bullet ready fur the first sign of deceivin’. Do you hear that, old man?”
This last was addressed to Raikes. He neither replied nor turned around. He went steadily on, twisting to right and left through the tortuous windings of the swamp.
It was more than an hour later when the party came in sight of the clearing and the cabin. From the top of the roof a pillar of blue smoke curled slowly upward. The boys were startled and amazed. They eagerly examined their weapons.
“Will we likely have much of a fight?” asked Jerry.
“Not a bit,” exclaimed Sparwick, scornfully. “Put up them weapons. We’re four ag’in one. Do you think Joe Bogle’s fool enough to resist. It’ll all go our own way, lads.”
Raikes was now half-way across the clearing. The others followed closely in his footsteps. Jerry and Hamp saw the cabin door thrown open. They heard a hoarse shout from within.
“It’s all right, Joe,” Raikes answered. “No shootin’.”
Sparwick paused, and drove the boys into the cabin ahead of him. He followed with the sleds.
Jerry and Hamp stared eagerly at their surroundings. They saw Bogle leaning against the table with a savage and wondering expression on his face. Then they spied some one else, and heard a familiar voice call them by name. The next instant they were kneelingon the bed beside Brick, trying to clasp his fettered hands.
“We’ve come to save you,” declared Jerry. “Your troubles are over now. Your father won’t have to pay that money, either. Sparwick is helping us, you know. We told him that you would give him five hundred dollars if he saved you. That’s why——”
The sentence was broken off short, for just then Bogle strode forward. His face blazed with anger. He clapped one hand on Raikes’ shoulder.
“What the deuce does this mean, Silas?” he demanded, hotly. “Have you lost your senses? Why did you turn back, and bring this rabble here? Do you want to ruin everything?”
There was a brief pause. The boys looked on with thrilling and anxious interest. They expected to see Raikes seize and overpower his comrade.
Imagine their surprise, then, when Raikes leaned over, and whispered a few words into Bogle’s ear. The two strolled amicably to the farthest end of the cabin, where they sat down on a bench, and began to talk in low tones.
Sparwick propped himself carelessly against the door, with his hands in his pockets. He studiously kept his eyes averted from the bed. As for the three lads—well, they were not a little puzzled by such strange proceedings. They were at a loss to account for them.
“I hope what you told me is true,” whispered Brick. “It don’t look much as if Bogle was a prisoner, though.”
“No; it don’t,” admitted Jerry. “I’m afraid there’s a hitch somewhere.”
“Perhaps Raikes hasn’t turned traitor, after all,” suggested Hamp. “I mean that he may have fooled Sparwick.”
“I’m afraid you two fellows are the ones that were fooled,” said Brick. “It looks very much as though Sparwick had gone over to Raikes and Bogle. Perhaps they promised him more money.”
Jerry and Hamp exchanged quick, meaning glances. It suddenly flashed upon them that Brick’s suspicion was absolutely true.
Just then Jerry caught Sparwick’s eye. He beckoned him to approach. But Sparwick pretended not to see. He looked the other way.
Before the boys could utter another word, Raikes and Bogle rose from the bench, and came across the room. Raikes paused in front of Sparwick, and said something to him. Bogle came on to the bed. His face wore a sneering smile of satisfaction.
“Give me those letters,” he demanded of Jerry.
The lad hesitated. With a savage oath Bogle clinched his fist.
“The letters?” he repeated, “quick!”
Jerry realized his helplessness. He took the letters from his pocket, and handed them to the ruffian.
“You’re a mean, lying traitor, Kyle Sparwick,” he cried, angrily.
“None of that,” exclaimed Bogle. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, or you will be sorry.”He struck Jerry roughly on the face. Then he took their rifles from the two lads.
“Stay where you are,” he added. “Don’t move.”
The boys cowered before the ruffian’s fierce words and manner.
Bogle crossed the room, and put the weapons on a shelf over the fireplace. He strolled leisurely to the table, and perched himself on the edge. Raikes and Sparwick drew a bench up to the opposite side, and sat down.
“You’ve come here uninvited, Sparwick,” said Bogle. “And I’m not any too glad to see you. You have chosen to meddle with an affair that was none of your business. I don’t blame Raikes, for he did the best thing possible under the circumstances. You had the drop on him, and he knew it.”
“It’s fair enough, as far as I kin see,” replied Sparwick, uneasily. “You an’ I are old friends, Joe Bogle, an’ there’s no reason why I shouldn’t have a hand at such rich pickin’s—especially when I’ve earned the right.”
“Earned it?” sneered Bogle.
“Yes, earned it,” replied Sparwick, in a warmer tone. “I don’t see how you kin deny the fact. I had a bargain with them two lads yonder to rescue their pardner, an’ I was to receive a certain sum of money fur the work. Accidentally Raikes stumbled across us this mornin’, an’ I nabbed him. He had papers what showed up your little game. I could have blocked it as easy as rollin’ off a log. Why didn’t I tie Raikesto a tree, an’ then push on here, and nab you, an’ rescue the lad? You won’t deny that I could have done it, an’ made a heap of cash by the operation, too. But instead o’ that I listens to Raikes. He says he’ll take me in with you, an’ give me twice the sum I was countin’ on. So I agrees to it, an’ we fixes the thing up. An’ now this is the kind of treatment I get. It ain’t fair an’ square, Bogle, you know it ain’t. An’ what’s more, I ain’t a man ter be sat down upon. This here agreement will be kept, or I’ll know the reason why.”
Sparwick’s face flushed with anger and indignation. He rose to his feet, and pounded the table with his fist.
CHAPTER XXVIII.SPARWICK LAYS DOWN THE LAW.
Bogle and Raikes exchanged quick glances which Sparwick did not see. The latter was by far the tallest and strongest of the three. Doubtless this fact was taken into consideration by his companions.
“Keep cool,” expostulated Bogle. “No need to fly into a temper. We want to discuss this thing peaceably.”
“That’ll suit me,” said Sparwick. “I’m to have square dealing, then, am I?”
“Of course you are,” assured Raikes.
“It depends on what you call square,” hastily added Bogle. “I hope you’ll look at it the same way we do. In the first place, Sparwick, you want to remember that Raikes and I have had all the trouble and expense of working this thing up. It was planned weeks ago; and look what we had to contend with before we got the lad in our hands. Would it be fair for you to chip in and demand a big slice out of our hard-earned reward?”
There was no reply. Sparwick gazed straight at the table. There was an expression on his face which his companions neither noticed nor understood.
“I see you are taking a sensible view of it,” resumed Bogle. “To come right to the point, this is what Raikes and I will do: When the matter is settled and we layour hands on the money, we will give you five hundred dollars—the original sum you had counted on getting. The condition attached to this is that you remain here while Raikes is in New York, and help me to guard these three lads. I’ll admit that Raikes promised you a thousand dollars, but he did that before he had a chance to consult me. That’s what I call square dealing. How does it strike you?”
Sparwick had meanwhile seated himself. Now he rose and leaned across the table. He shook his fist in Bogle’s face. He glared at him with flashing eyes and quivering nostrils.
“Liar! skunk!” he snarled. “Yes, an’ you, too, Raikes. You’re a pair of cussed skinflints. You’d sneak out of your bargain, would you? You’d offer me a dirty five hundred dollars to help do your dirty work, while each of you pockets purty near five thousand? If you’d stuck to the thousand you promised, you’d have found me fair an’ square. But now——”
Rage got the better of Sparwick. His right arm shot out and took Bogle on the face with such stunning force as to topple him over backward. He was quickly up again, with blood streaming from a badly smashed nose.
“Hit him, Raikes, hit him!” he cried, with an interlarding of trooper-like oaths.
But before Raikes could make up his mind, a backhanded blow caused him to turn a somersault over the bench. He was a plucky fellow, and as quickly as possible he was on his feet.
The boys felt like cheering. They waited in keen suspensefor the end of the struggle. Would the result bring them freedom or captivity?
The next move on Sparwick’s part was a sudden and unexpected one. He dodged Raikes from the rear and sprang upon the table. He jumped down on the other side and rushed toward the fireplace, his object being to seize the rifles.
His enemies knew this, and they did their best to checkmate him. Bogle thrust out his foot, and when Sparwick tripped heavily to the floor, he threw himself upon his back.
He was instantly reinforced by Raikes, yet the two together were less than a match for the big fellow; at least, when he was in such a desperate mood. Sparwick fought from underneath for a few seconds, dealing and receiving blows. Then he strained every muscle and rose slowly up, with his foes still clinging to him. He shook them off as a panther would scatter a pack of hounds.
Bogle fell in one direction, and Raikes in another. They had no desire to renew the struggle on the same terms. As soon as they could get to their feet, they sped across the room, and snatched two rifles from above the door. These Sparwick had not observed, but meanwhile he had captured a loaded weapon from over the fireplace.
This led, oddly enough, to a drawn game. On the very instant when Sparwick drew a bead on the foremost of his enemies, both Raikes and Bogle leveled their weapons straight at his breast. There was a brief and awful pause. Why neither party opened fire it is impossible to say. Some strange instinct stayed their hands.
“Put them weapons down,” said Sparwick, in calm tones.
“Lower yours first,” replied Raikes.
“Not likely,” muttered Sparwick. “I can’t trust two such lyin’ skunks an’ sneaks.”
There was another pause. Then Raikes let the barrel of his weapon fall. Bogle instantly did the same.
“Your turn, Sparwick,” he said, suddenly. “I’m a peaceable man, and would go a good deal out of my way any time to avoid bloodshed. So the thousand dollars is yours; I give you my word on it. It’s not a square deal, though. You ought to have been satisfied with five hundred.”
“That ain’t my way of thinkin’,” replied Sparwick, as he slightly lowered his rifle; “and as for the offer of a thousand, why, that’s come too late. What I want now is five thousand, an’ I’m going ter have it or bust this game.”
This audacious statement made Raikes and Bogle fairly gasp for breath.
“Five thousand dollars!” screamed Bogle. “What do you take us for? Do you expect us to give you half of the whole sum?”
In his anger, he lifted his rifle again.
“Drop that,” cried Sparwick. “If you do it another time, I’ll put a bullet through you. I’m one against two, an’ if it comes to a shootin’ match, possibly I might get wiped out; but I reckon you won’t kill me for fear of hangin’. An’ I reckon you’ll agree ter what I ask, since if you refuse, your game is up. I don’t mean that you should give me half of the ten thousand. We’ll go sharesalike. Make the lad write them letters over ag’in an’ change the figger to fifteen thousand. That will give us five thousand apiece. Make up your minds purty quick. I’m in the game fur full shares, an’ I intend to stay.”
It was evident that Sparwick meant every word, and would submit to no arbitration. He glanced calmly and aggressively at the two baffled rascals, conscious that he had turned the tables upon them.
Bogle glanced at Raikes, and in that glance was a subtle meaning, known only to the two. In a contest of wits and cunning, Sparwick was immeasurably their inferior.
“Your greediness will spoil the whole game,” growled Bogle. “It’s flying mighty high to ask ten thousand dollars. If we make it fifteen thousand, this lawyer will likely pitch us overboard and appeal to the police.”
“The one amount would be paid as quickly as t’other,” replied Sparwick. “To a man as well off as John Larkins is reckoned to be, five thousand dollars ain’t anything. Is it yes or no?”
“It’s yes,” muttered Bogle. “It couldn’t well be anything else, since you’ve got the drop on Raikes and me. We’ll carry the thing out as you say. Only if they stick at the amount, you’ll shoulder the blame.”
“If the thing is well done, there won’t be any stickin’,” said Sparwick.
His aggressive manner disappeared as he stepped forward and laid his rifle on the table.
Raikes and Bogle did the same. Their faces assumed a good humored expression that seemed to say: “We aregoing to take our defeat gracefully.” The next minute the three men were conversing on amiable terms.
It was now past midday. Raikes at once began to prepare dinner. Bogle and Sparwick overhauled the contents of the two sleds and stored the dishes and provisions away in the cupboard.
The meal was a good one, and well cooked. The boys were treated kindly, and given all they could eat. In spite of their unpleasant situation, they had keen appetites.
After dinner, writing materials were brought out, and Brick was called upon to rewrite the two letters. He demurred at first, but a few unpleasant threats and a glimpse of the narrow closet finally led to his yielding.
The steel bracelets were then locked upon his wrists again. Jerry and Hamp were also placed beyond the possibility of escape by having their arms tightly bound behind their backs with ropes.
CHAPTER XXIX.A MIDNIGHT DISCOVERY.
About sunset something of a startling and unexpected nature occurred. Its effect on the inmates of the cabin was pretty much the same as if a bombshell had suddenly fallen in the midst of them.
Outside were heard crunching footsteps, and the rustle of dry bushes. Then a husky shout rang on the still, evening air.
The three men sprang to their feet. For an instant they were speechless with wonder and alarm. The intrusion had a different effect on the boys. They believed that it meant rescue and freedom.
Bogle snatched his rifle.
“Stay here,” he whispered to his companions. “Be ready if I need you.”
He went swiftly to the door and opened it. He closed it partly behind him as he stepped outside. Half-a-dozen feet from the cabin stood a vigorous-looking man of sixty, clad in the garb of a typical Maine hunter and trapper. His kindly face was grizzled and bearded. He carried a rifle over his shoulder. Bogle went swiftly up to him and held out his hand.
“I’ll swear if it ain’t Jack Mowry,” he exclaimed.
The stranger glanced keenly into the other’s face.Then he uttered a long, hearty laugh that came from deep down in his chest.
“By Jingo, it’s Joe Bogle! Wa-al, wa-al, this beats anything ever I heard on. Why, man, I ain’t seen you fur near three years—not since that winter on Moosehead.”
“Oh! this is a sort of a shooting den that Raikes and I put up,” Bogle hastily explained. “Raikes is with me, and we are just ready to start away. Where are you bound, Mowry?”
“That’s jest what I’d like ter know,” returned the trapper, as he shot a puzzled glance toward the cabin. “I hev a camp ’bout a mile north of the swamp, an’ this mornin’ I tracked a deer into this dog-goned tangle o’ bushes. I lost my bearin’s an’ hev been wanderin’ ’round ever since.”
“That’s hard luck,” replied Bogle. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do now, Mowry. I can’t ask you in to spend the night, because we are just leaving, and our provisions have run out. But I’ll get a light and guide you back to your camp. I know every foot of the swamp. By the way, Raikes will be glad to meet you. You remember Silas, don’t you? He was with you on Moosehead.”
Without waiting for a reply, Bogle called aloud:
“Raikes, Raikes, come here.”
As soon as Bogle went to the door, Raikes and Sparwick caught a glimpse of the stranger. Both recognized him at once, for he had long been a familiar figure in the Maine woods.
“I hope Bogle will know how to deal with him,” muttered Sparwick.
“Trust Joe for that,” replied Raikes. “I reckon I’ll be needed in a minute. Suppose you attend to those lads yonder. They might make trouble and upset everything.”
Accordingly Sparwick crossed the room and sat down at the foot of the bed.
“The first one of you that utters a sound,” he whispered, savagely, “will get his face smashed. Mind that.”
Under these circumstances, the boys were helpless. With tantalizing emotions they listened to the audible conversation outside. They heard Raikes summoned, and saw him hurriedly leave the cabin.
The next instant Bogle entered. He snatched up a lantern and a pair of gloves.
“That’s right, Sparwick,” he whispered. “Don’t let those chaps utter a sound. So far we’re all right. Raikes will be back in a minute.”
Then he left the cabin and closed the door tightly.
It was only a few seconds later when Raikes returned. He called Sparwick over to the fireplace, and there they conversed in low tones until long after dark. Finally they prepared supper and unbound the boys long enough to allow them to eat.
It was nearly midnight when Bogle returned. His boisterous entry wakened all three of the lads, who had dropped asleep. They lay still, however, and pretended to be still sleeping.
“It took you long enough,” grumbled Raikes. “How did you make out?”
“It was a matter of four miles each way,” replied Bogle. “I’m lucky to get back so soon. As for making out—well, I’m afraid Mowry has his suspicions. It couldn’t be otherwise. We didn’t ask him in or offer him a bite to eat. He knew there was something back of it all. I went clear to his camp with him. He was grateful for that, but there was a sort of a chilling coolness about him.”
“It’s hard luck,” muttered Raikes. “He’s a nosey old chap, and may come spying around here, now that he’s found the way. What had we better do?”
“I’ll tell you,” whispered Bogle, as he glanced across the cabin. Then he added, in a tone that did not reach half-way to the boys: “At daybreak you will start on your journey, Raikes. After dinner Sparwick and I will move boys, luggage, and all to the Rock House. You will find us there when you return.”
“By Jove! that’s a clever thought,” said Raikes. “Mowry will be neatly tricked.”
“Where is the Rock House?” asked Sparwick.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” replied Bogle. “There are places in these woods that you never dreamed of. And now let’s turn in. We’ve talked enough.”
“Yes, and I need sleep for to-morrow’s journey,” added Raikes.
As has been stated, this last part of the conversation was not overheard by the boys. They knew thatit must be about matters of special importance. But they had no chance of talking it over among themselves. Their feigned slumber turned to real shortly after the men came to bed.
Raikes was up before dawn. He cooked himself a breakfast, ate it hastily and departed.
It was after nine o’clock when the boys got awake. They missed Raikes at once. Bogle was setting the table, and Sparwick was frying slices of venison. The boys were kindly treated during the day, but their arms were kept tightly bound, except at meal times.
They were now pretty much resigned to the situation. They knew that it was hopeless to think of escape or of preventing, by any means, the extortion of money from Mr. Larkins.
Brick, who by rights, should have been most concerned, was least so.
“Don’t you fellows worry,” he said. “My father will pay the money, and I don’t suppose he’ll mind it much. I’m only sorry that you should get into such a scrape on my account. But just as soon as the money comes we’ll all be free.”
This was but cold consolation. The day dragged along in so dreary and tedious a manner that the boys regarded a week or ten days of such captivity with the utmost horror.
The weather had moderated during the previous night, and in the middle of the morning a drizzling rain began to fall. So at dinnertime Bogle and Sparwick held a brief and secret conversation. As a resultof this, they decided to postpone their removal to the Rock House until the following day.
Late in the afternoon the sky cleared, and the weather blew up cold again. At bedtime a stiff wind was howling around the cabin.
In the middle of the night Jerry got awake with a start. He felt restless and uneasy. The ropes on his arms pained him. He raised himself to a sitting posture and looked around.
Outside the moon was shining, and a few silvery rays crept through the crevices of the door and window-shutters. These, and a faint, rosy glow from the embers of the fire, shed a misty light on the interior of the cabin.
Next to Jerry, on the left, lay Hamp, and beyond him was Sparwick. On the right lay Brick and Bogle. Jerry was sandwiched in between the four. He looked at them intently. Their deep breathing indicated that all were asleep.
Jerry was about to lie down again when he heard strange sounds from outside the cabin. Slow, cautious footsteps crunched over the snow. Now they were on one side, now on the other. Then the door rattled slightly, and finally the shutters creaked.
Jerry’s heart beat like a trip-hammer. His breath came short and fast. He was first inclined to waken his companions, but he fought the inclination down. He listened for a long time after the sounds had died away. Then an inspiration flashed suddenly into his mind.
“What a fool I was to be scared,” he reflected. “I’ll bet anything that old trapper was spying around here, trying to find out what mysteries are going on. I’m sorry now that I didn’t shout at him. By this time he must have started back to his camp. If I could only escape! How easy it would be to follow his tracks over the snow! I’m sure he would help me to get Brick free.”
As Jerry thus cogitated, he saw some object sparkling in the moonlight on the cabin floor. It was about half-way between him and the table. He looked keenly and now he discovered that the object was a knife.
A daring thought came into Jerry’s head. A glance satisfied him that his four bedfellows were still sleeping. With a slow and noiseless motion, he crawled forward on his knees. From time to time he glanced warily over his shoulder. Finally his perseverance was rewarded.
He reached the knife. He leaned over upon it backward and managed to get the hilt between the partly-cramped fingers of one hand. With a clumsy, sawing movement, he scraped the blade over the rope that held his arms together. He was far from certain of success, but he stuck to the task with grim determination. More than once the blade slipped and cut into his wrists and fingers.
At last, when he was on the verge of despair, a sudden snap told him that the rope was severed. He drew his arms in front of him, and cut loose the separate pieces of rope.