IN THE SHALLOW WATER OVER THE BAR WERE A NUMBER OF REPTILES.IN THE SHALLOW WATER OVER THE BAR WERE A NUMBER OF REPTILES.—Page 153.
The Outdoor Girls in Florida.
Little Captain that she was, she prepared to take the lead. She was about to step out into the shallow water when she drew back with a gasp.
"What's the matter—cold?" asked Mollie.
"No—but look—snakes!"
Betty pointed to where, pursuing their sinuous way in the shallow water over the bar, were a number of reptiles.
"Moccasins," whispered Mollie. "We—we can't go that way either," and she glanced back toward the sleeping alligators. Both ways of escape were blocked.
Grace burst out crying. She said she knew it was silly, and not at all what an outdoor girl should do, and, very contritely afterward, she told the others how sorry she was that she had given way. But she just could not seem to help it. Without reserve she sobbed on Amy's shoulder.
For a moment Mollie and Betty, looking at one another, feared that Amy, too, would give way to her feelings, and that they would have two hysterical ones on their hands. But the little outburst of Grace seemed to act as a sort of tonic to Amy, who put her arms about her chum, murmuring comforting words.
"Oh, what—what are we going to do?" sobbed Grace.
"We're not going to cry—at any rate!" snapped Mollie. "At least I'm not."
There was an incisiveness—a sharpness—to her voice that made Grace look up a bit angrily.
"I—I'm not crying!" she said, and there was more energy in her voice than had been noticeable for some time.
"Well, it's a very good imitation of it then," went on Mollie. "Crying isn't going to do any good, and it gets on the nerves of all of us."
"I'm sorry—I couldn't seem to help it," spoke Grace, in a low voice. "I—I won't do it again. But oh, what are we going to do?"
No one knew what to answer. Certainly they were in a situation that needed help to enable them to escape from it. They could not approach the alligators—at least they did not think they could, though perhaps the creatures would have fled when the girls came near. And the snakes, while not aggressive, seemed to be numerous in the water that offered the only ford to shore. And moccasins, the girls had been told, were deadly poisonous.
"If Tom would only come!" muttered Betty. "I can't see what keeps him," and she looked anxiously toward where the luncheon was spread. But there was no sign of the young man.
"Maybe we could drive the snakes away by throwing more stones," suggested Grace, who seemed to have gotten over her little hysterical outburst. "Let's try it."
"It's worth trying," admitted Betty. "Atleast I don't believe the snakes would come out to attack us, and we might be able to drive them away."
The girls, glad of the chance to do something, collected a pile of stones and showered them into the water. Then when the ripples had cleared they peered anxiously at the sand bar.
"They're gone!" cried Amy joyously. "Now we can wade to shore."
"Better wait," advised Mollie.
There was an anxious pause, and then Betty said in a hopeless sort of tone:
"No, there they come back again," and she pointed to where the writhing serpents could be seen. Evidently the sand bar was a sort of feeding place for them, and though they might disappear for the moment at some disturbance, they returned.
Hopelessly the girls looked at one another. Then they glanced into the water, that seemed fairly swarming with the snakes. There appeared to be more than ever of them. Then Amy looked toward the neck of land and gave a cry of surprise—of joy.
"Look!" she exclaimed. "They're going—the alligators. At least they're—moving!"
"I hope they don't move toward us!" gasped Grace.
The saurians indeed seemed waked into life. Whether they had completed their sun bath, or whether the call of their appetites moved them, it was impossible to say. But they were walking about, dragging their ponderous, fat, squatty bodies, and their big tails.
"Let's tell 'em we're in a hurry," suggested Betty, as she caught up a stone. Running forward she threw it with such good aim that it struck one of the saurians on the head. With a sort of surprised grunt the creature slid off the narrow neck of sand into the water. The other followed with a splash.
"There they go!" cried Mollie. "Come on now, before they take a notion to come back. Oh girls! I'm nearly starved!"
Betty laughed at this—it was characteristic of Mollie, once the immediate stress was removed, to revert to the matter that had previously claimed her attention, and this had been their luncheon.
"Come on!" she cried, and ran toward the main shore.
Betty said afterward that they had never run so fast, not even at the school games, where the outdoor girls had made records for themselves on the cinder track. Just who reached shore first is a matter of no moment—in fact it must havebeen a "dead heat," as Tom Osborne said afterward.
As the girls passed the place where the alligators had been sunning themselves they gave one look each into the water where the saurians had disappeared. One look only, and they did not pause to do that. But they saw no signs of the ugly creatures.
"Safe!" cried Betty, and the girls, breathless from their run, were safe. They gathered about the eatables on the grass.
"Oh, where can Tom be?" cried Betty anxiously. "I—I hope nothing has happened to him!"
"Now who is making direful suggestions, I'd like to know?" asked Grace.
"Well, it is queer to have him disappear that way," voiced Mollie. "But I'm going to be impolite and—eat."
She approached the "table," an example followed by the others. Certainly Tom had done his work exceedingly well. The spread was very inviting.
Betty looked all around the little glade on the edge of the river, where the table was set. There was no sign of their escort. TheGemfloated lazily where she was moored, and the scene was quiet and peaceful enough. But there was a certain mystery about the disappearance of Tom Osborne.
"Well, we may as well eat," sighed Betty. "Then we can look about a bit. There won't be any alligators inland, I guess."
Even the fright the girls had experienced had not taken away their appetites, and soon they were making merry over the meal, which was a bountiful one—they could well trust Aunt Hannah for that.
But "between bites," as it were, Betty and the others looked about for a sign of the young man. He did not appear, however, nor were there any sounds of his approach. The woods back from the river teemed with bird and animal life. The latter was not so visible as the former, for the feathered creatures flitted here and there amid the branches, bursting into various melodious notes.
The meal went on; it was finished. The girls packed up with a little sense of disappointment. They felt that their outing had been rather spoiled. They saved enough for Tom in case he should come back hungry, which would very likely be the case.
"Well, we may as well put things on board," said Betty, at length. "We can't stay here much longer. It's getting late."
"But can we—ought we—go back without Tom?" asked Mollie.
"I don't see what else we can do—if he doesn't come," said Betty. "We can't stay here all night."
TheGemwas made ready for the trip back. Then came a time of anxious waiting as the shadows lengthened. Betty, as well as the others, was getting nervous.
"We simply must go," said the Little Captain, at length. "He will have to come back as best he can. I don't see what made him go away. I am quite sure Mr. Hammond will not like it."
"But if we go, can Tom find his way back?" asked Grace.
"He'll have to. But of course we'll tell Mr. Hammond, and he, and some of the men, can come for Tom, if they think it necessary."
There seemed nothing else to do, and presently the girls went aboard, taking the remains of the lunch with them.
"We ought to leave some sort of note for Tom, telling him what happened, and that we couldn't wait any longer," suggested Mollie, as Betty was about to start.
"That's so. I didn't think of that. We'll do it."
"And leave him some lunch, too," voiced Amy.
"Good!" cried Betty. "Tom has one friend, at least."
A goodly packet of lunch was done up, and placed in a tree, well wrapped, where it would be sure to be seen. Then a note was left, with a brief account of what had happened, and the information that the girls had gone back to Orangeade.
"He ought to see that!" remarked Betty, stepping back to inspect her handiwork. She had pinned a small square of white paper, containing the writing, to a sheet of light brown manila, so that it was visible for some distance.
"It looks like a whole book—instead of a note," laughed Mollie.
TheGemwas started and began dropping down the branch stream toward the main river. At least the girls hoped it was the main river when they turned into a larger body of water. But as they puffed on, amid the lengthening shadows, an annoying doubt began to manifest itself in Betty's mind. She glanced at the shores from time to time.
"Girls," she said finally, "does everything look right?"
"Do you mean—your hair?" asked Amy.
"No, I mean the scenery. Is it familiar? Have we been here before? Did we come this way?"
They all stared at Betty.
"What—what do you mean?" faltered Grace.
"Well, I don't seem to remember this place," went on Betty. "I'm afraid we've taken the wrong turn in the river, and that——"
"You don't mean to say that we're lost; do you?" cried Mollie.
"I'm afraid so," was Betty's low-voiced reply.
Onward chugged theGemand the sudden acceleration in the heart-beats of the girls seemed to keep time with the staccato exhaust of the motor.
"Lost!" faltered Grace.
"And night coming on," echoed Amy.
"Oh, you two!" cried Mollie. "I wish I were a boy!"
"Why?" asked Betty, as she guided her craft to the center of the stream. It was lighter there, for they were not so much under the overhanging trees with their festoons of moss. "Why, Mollie, dear?"
"Then I could use slang, such as—oh, well, what's the use? I don't suppose it would do any good."
"But are you sure we are lost?" asked Amy. "What makes you say so, Betty?"
"Because this place doesn't look at all like any part of the river we came down before. The trouble was that we let Tom steer, and we didn'tnotice the course very much, as we should have done on coming in a new channel. But I'm sure we are lost."
"It isn't a very pleasant thing to be sure about," said Mollie grimly, "but we may as well face the worst. Grace, let's you and I look to our stock of provisions."
"What for?" asked Grace, who had found a few stray pieces of candy in a box, and was contentedly eating them.
"Well, if we're lost that doesn't mean we're not going to eat, and if we have enough for supper and breakfast——"
"Breakfast!" cried Grace. "Are we going to be here for breakfast?"
"And stay out all night?" added Amy.
"There may be no help for it," said Betty as calmly as she could. "We have slept aboard before this, and we can do it again."
"But you're not going to give up without trying to get back to the grove; are you?" asked Mollie, who, after the first shock, was her own brave self again, as was Betty.
"Of course I'm going to try," replied Betty. "But that doesn't mean we'll get there. Often, after you're lost, trying to find your way back again only makes you lost the more—especially with night coming on."
"But what are we going to do?" queried Grace blankly. She had ceased eating candy now.
"Well, it's very evident that we're not going the right way," went on Betty. "The farther we go the more sure I am that we were never on this part of the stream before. So I think we had better turn back, and, if necessary, start over again from where we had lunch.
"We may be able to see the right turn by starting over once more. Then we will be all right. Once I am started on the right track I think I can follow it. We have a compass, and I noticed, in a general way, which direction we came, though I was not as careful as I should have been."
"But it will be very dark," objected Amy. "It is getting darker all the while."
"That will be the worst of it," admitted Betty frankly, "and if we find we can't go on, we shall have to tie up for the night. We might do worse."
"But anchor far enough from shore so that nothing can—get us," pleaded Grace. "No alligators, I mean."
"Don't worry—they won't come aboard," declared Betty.
"These rivers are split up into a lot of side brooks, bayous and such things," said Mollie. "Tom mentioned that, and he said that often onecould wander about in them being close to the right route all the while, and yet not know a thing about it."
"Cheerful prospect," remarked Grace.
"Oh, I'm sure we'll get on the right stream—sometime," spoke Mollie cheerfully. "What do you say—had we not better turn back?"
They all agreed that this was best, and soon, in the fast gathering dusk, theGemwas swung about and was breasting the rather sluggish current.
To the credit of the outdoor girls be it said that even in this nerve-racking emergency they did not altogether lose heart and courage. Of course there was that first instinctive fear, and something like a gasping for breath, as when one plunges into cold water. But the reaction came, and the girls were themselves once more—brave and self-reliant.
"I only hope we don't pass the stream up which we went to have our lunch," spoke Mollie as they went on. She and the others were peering from side to side in the gloom.
"Oh, I'm sure we can find that," declared Betty. "There is a big, dead cypress tree, with a lot of moss on it, just at the turn. We must watch for that."
There were one or two false alarms before theysaw it, but finally they were all sure of the turn, and Betty made it.
"Oh, are you going all the way back to where we ate?" asked Grace, as Betty guided her craft into the branch stream.
"I think so," answered the Little Captain. "It will not take much longer, and we may find Tom there. If we do, all our troubles will be over. I think we had better go up."
"But it's getting dark so fast," objected Grace.
"Then a little more dark won't make much difference," returned Mollie with a shrug. "Go on, Betty."
TheGemchugged her way up "Alligator Brook," as the girls had named it. Eagerly they looked for some sign of their missing escort, and listened for any sound that would indicate he was coming to meet them. But the forest was silent. Night was settling down, and birds and beasts were seeking their resting places.
They reached the place where the boat had been tied, and could see where they had eaten their lunch. Over in the gloom there fluttered the paper Betty had fastened to a tree to indicate to Tom the fact that his charges had left.
"He hasn't been here," said Mollie in a low voice.
"No, there's the packet of lunch," went onGrace pointing to it. "We may need it ourselves."
Betty said nothing, but in the semi-darkness her chums could see the worried look on her face.
Suddenly there was a crashing through the underbrush, announcing the approach of someone.
"Here he comes!" exclaimed Amy.
"Let's call!" suggested Grace.
"Wait a minute," advised Betty.
The figure of a young man came into view. He looked about him nervously, turning his head from side to side like a timid bird.
"That isn't Tom!" said Mollie.
Low as her voice was the youth heard. He fairly leaped forward, and Betty, as she had a better glimpse of him, spoke:
"It's The Loon! The one who saved our boat for us!"
For a few seconds it was like a tableau, the strange young man, more ragged than before (if that were possible) standing in the midst of the clearing, and gazing as though spellbound at the girls in the motor boat.
On their part, Betty and her chums, following the half-whispered announcement made by Betty, stared at The Loon almost as if he might be a ghost of the Florida forest.
For perhaps a quarter of a minute they all remained thus, scarcely moving—hardly breathing—and then the young man made a slow turn. He seemed about to plunge back into the tangle whence he had come.
"Don't do that!" saidMollie, hardly above a whisper. "He mustn't do that!" and she seemed appealing to her chums. "We must keep him here—speak to him—perhaps he knows where Tom went."
"Or, if he doesn't, perhaps he can tell us which way to go to get home," breathed Grace. "He's some company, anyhow."
The Loon, to give him the title bestowed onhim by the men in the boat, hesitated as he caught the sound of whispering. He shifted from one foot to the other, much after the manner of some animal seeking to escape unnoticed.
He took a step backward. By this time Betty had brought her boat close to the extending tree branch, where she had made fast before. The power had been shut off and theGemhad drifted to the former mooring place. Now Betty was ready for action.
"I beg your pardon," she said in a low voice, and with an intonation calculated to disperse the fears of even the most timid youth, "but will you be so good as to help us again? We are the girls, you know, whose boat you got when the manatee was towing it away."
"Wha—what?" gasped the other, and he seemed much afraid.
"We're the same girls," went on Betty. "You know, we saw you poling down the river that day. If you come closer you can see us and make sure. We need help again. We are lost and a friend of ours is missing. Wait, I'll light the lamps," and with a turn of the switch Betty set aglow the electric lights, operated by a storage battery.
The youth started again. Clearly he was a most timid creature.
"We saw the men who were after you," put in Mollie, thinking to add to his confidence. "And we didn't tell; did we, girls."
"No!" came in a chorus. In spite of the rather unprepossessing appearance of the youth the girls were glad to see him.
"Now will you help us again?" asked Mollie. "We've had a dreadful time, and we need help. You won't go away; will you?"
"N—no!" was the hesitating answer. "I came to look for you, but I wasn't sure—you see I have to be so careful."
"Gracious, I wonder if he thinks we wanted to capture him?" thought Grace, feeling about amid the cushions for some chocolates. That was a sure sign Grace had recovered her equanimity.
"You came to look for us?" echoed Betty, wonderingly.
"Yes, miss," was the answer. "He sent me to find you."
"He? Who do you mean?" Betty questioned anxiously.
"Tom—Tom Osborne. He told me to come here and tell you he couldn't come."
"Couldn't come—why?" Betty's voice had a note of fear in it now.
"'Cause they've caught him. He's cotched, Miss."
"Caught? By whom?" It was Mollie who questioned now.
Before answering The Loon, which name seemed to fit the poor creature well, glided forward, glancing back nervously over his shoulder now and then, as though he feared pursuit.
"Oh dear!" murmured Grace. "I don't like this. It's worse than the ghost of the island."
"Be quiet," urged Betty. "It may be all right yet. I'm going to light more lamps."
Thus far she had only set aglow one in the after cockpit, and the red and green side lights, together with the one on the small signal mast. Now she flooded the cabin with radiance, for it was getting more and more gloomy in the forest clearing.
"Won't you come aboard?" urged Betty kindly. "We will do all we can for Tom Osborne if he is in trouble. We can't understand why he deserted us. We have been in much distress, we got lost and had to come back. Come aboard and tell us all about it so we will know what to do. Perhaps you are hungry. We left food there," and she indicated it. "Bring it here, and then perhaps you can take us back to the bungalow. The men there will organize a searching party if need be. But tell us who has caught Tom."
The Loon did not answer for a minute. He looked to where Betty pointed, saw the packet of food and went toward it eagerly. Then he brought it to the moored boat.
"I am hungry," he said simply.
"Then eat first, and talk later," urged Mollie. "I know what it is to be hungry."
"I'll admit I'm hungry now," said Grace. "We left enough food so we could have some, I think."
"Hush! we had a good lunch," said Betty, "and there is no telling what will happen before morning. Grace, you and Amy might make some hot chocolate."
"Will you tell us your name now, or are you still afraid?" asked Betty of the youth, who was eating ravenously. "The men called you—The Loon—I believe it was."
"Yes, Miss, that's my name. You see I'm not quite right in the head. I got hurt when I was a baby. I'm harmless, but I can't do much work—I'm not strong. My name is Harry Jackson."
"And have you no home—no friends?"
"Not as I knows on, Miss, no. I had an uncle once, but he died. I live around the camps—sometimes the men is good to me, and sometimes not."
He ate quickly, but daintily, and was not all uncouth. From time to time he glanced about like some frightened animal.
"They calls me The Loon," he went on. "But I know some things. I know more than they want me to."
"Do you think you could pilot this boat to Mr. Stonington's place?" asked Mollie with much anxiety.
"Yes, Miss, I could. I know my way all around these waters. I can take you there. But we ought to help him—help Tom and the other one. I promised I'd come for you."
"Then tell us where Tom is—who has him—how did he come to send you for us—who is 'the other one'?"
Betty questioned thus rapidly. The Loon passed his hand over his forehead as though to brush away the cobwebs from his poor brain. Then he said:
"The same men caught him, Miss.
"What same men?"
"The ones who were after me. There's a camp back there in the woods, and they have him, and the other one, too. I started for help for him long ago, but they got after me and took me back. Then they brought Tom in this afternoon. He saw me and told me to come for you. Theydidn't see him tell me. We've got to go to the rescue."
"I should say we had!" exclaimed Betty. "This is all very mysterious, Harry." She could not bear to call him The Loon. "Can you tell us any more about all this? Why did Tom go away?"
"That's it!" cried the queer youth. "That's what I've been trying to remember. He told me to be sure and tell you that he didn't run away. He saw you getting flowers, he said, and he went off in the woods a way to look for some rare kind for you. He didn't mean to go so far. Then the men caught him, and took him away before he could warn you. That's what he wanted me to be sure and tell you. Now I've remembered," and he seemed quite pleased in his own peculiar way.
"But who is this other one you started to help?" asked Grace, a strange eagerness creeping into her voice.
"Wait, please, wait," begged The Loon, again passing his hand over his brow. "I can't think very fast. I know the bad men in the lumber camp had Tom, and the other one—I don't know his name. But maybe we can rescue them both. If you'll come——"
He sprang from the boat to the tree branchand thence ashore. Then he stood waiting in the glare of the boat's lights.
"Wait," said Betty gently. "We must go for help, first. Come, Harry, get aboard and take us to the orange grove. Then we will get Mr. Hammond and some men to come to the rescue."
The Loon stood irresolute for a few seconds. He seemed to want to rush off into the dark woods again, and evidently expected the girls to follow him. But, though they were very anxious to effect the rescue of their friend Tom, and the other unknown, held in some distant camp, Betty and her chums would take no risks.
"Come!" called the Little Captain to the simple-minded lad, "we will go for help, and soon be back here—if you can guide us."
"Oh, yes, I know the way all over these parts—even in the Everglades."
"Are there Everglades here?" asked Mollie, who had heard much of those strange, floating forests.
"A small patch," answered The Loon, "but not much like the real Everglades. It is a big swampy tract, and the camp is in there."
"A turpentine camp?" asked Grace, filled with sudden hope.
"No, the bosses are getting out a certain kindof wood. Oh! but it is hard work. The wood is partly under water, and the bugs and mosquitoes and alligators are terrible. I ran away, for I couldn't stand it."
"Poor fellow," murmured Amy. "Oh, to think of Tom Osborne and some other young fellow being there."
"Just like my poor brother Will," agreed Grace. "Oh, I wonder if he could be the 'other one' he refers to! Listen," she went on to the simple youth eagerly, "I am going to describe a young man to you. I want you to tell me if he is like the one you once tried to rescue—the time you saved our boat," and she gave a close description of her brother.
"Is the 'other one' like that?" she asked breathlessly.
The Loon shook his head.
"No," he said slowly, "not at all like that. He is very thin, this one, and he is lame."
"Oh dear!" half sobbed Grace. "I was beginning to have such hope!"
"Never mind," consoled Betty. "We will find your brother yet. Come now, we are losing time. Come, Harry," she said gently.
"And the other one, too?" he asked eagerly. "I promised I would help him, and took his money; but I lost it."
"Yes, we will rescue him, too," said Betty. "Come now."
The Loon was satisfied that his friend would be helped, so he sprang into the boat. Betty started the engine and then, with the powerful gas headlight aglow, she turned the wheel over to The Loon.
However simple-minded the poor youth might be, however undecided and timid in the forest, he seemed to be a new person on the water. There was a self-reliance about him, a poise and a certain ability that he seemed to have acquired suddenly. Without a trace of hesitation he guided the boat through the winding course of the creek that flowed into the main stream.
Coming to the turn he took an entirely different direction from that followed by the girls.
"That's where we made our mistake!" exclaimed Mollie.
The Loon did not respond—he was too busy peering ahead at the dark water, which was illuminated only for a comparatively short distance by the searchlight.
"Suppose—suppose we hit—an alligator!" voiced Grace.
"Don't suppose at all," retorted Betty. "It's bad for the nerves."
It was now so dark that the girls could not seejust the course taken, and so could not know where it was they had made other mistakes. But the darkness did not seem to bother The Loon. Like the bird whose name he bore he seemed able to see in the gloom as well as in the light.
"Are we coming back with the men when they make the rescue?" asked Grace.
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Amy. "I'd be afraid."
"I wouldn't!" declared Mollie. "I think we ought to come along."
"So do I!" added Grace. "That other one, of whom Harry spoke, may be my brother after all; even if it isn't a turpentine camp we are going to."
"It hardly seems possible," objected Betty. "The description is so different. And Will isn't lame."
"No," responded Grace, in a low voice. "But, oh, how I wish we could rescue him!"
"Did this other young man—the one who gave you money—tell you his name?" asked Betty, determined to try again to bring some glimmer of memory to The Loon.
"Yes," answered the simple-minded lad, "but I can't think of it. My mind isn't all there," he added cheerfully, as though it was something to be proud of.
"It wasn't Will, was it?" asked Grace.
"No. The men called him Hippity-hop, 'cause he was lame, I guess. But maybe I could find your brother."
"I wish someone could," murmured Grace, with a half sob.
TheGemchugged on through the darkness, making turn after turn, twisting here and there in the water, The Loon seeming to know the channel perfectly. In a much shorter time than the girls had expected they made a turn that a few seconds later brought them out on a broad stream.
"Now I know where we are!" cried Betty. "This is the Mayfair river—our river; isn't it?"
"Yes," answered The Loon. "We shall soon be at your orange grove now."
A few minutes later they saw a sudden glare of light and heard the firing of guns. Then they noticed boats here and there on the stream, each one containing several lanterns, while the occupants were shouting from time to time.
"Look! Look!" exclaimed Grace.
"Hush!" called Betty. "They are calling us!"
The girls could distinguish their names being spoken.
"They're searching for us!" cried Mollie. "Here we are!" she shouted, and her voice carried to the searchers and as they saw the lights of theGemthe boats converged toward her.
Mr. Stonington and Mr. Hammond were in one, and Amy's "uncle" greeted her and the others with alarm in his tones.
"What happened? Where were you? We have imagined all sorts of terrible things about you."
"We got lost," explained Betty quickly, "and some men have captured Tom. They are holding him a prisoner in an Everglade camp. This young man can take us back there. We must rescue him," and they quickly filled in the other details of the story.
"Well, this beats all!" exclaimed Mr. Hammond. "Those timber men are getting worse and worse all the while. We'll have to teach them a lesson!"
"Will you rescue them?" asked The Loon.
"Surely, Harry," spoke the foreman, who knew the simple-minded lad. "We'll get right after the fellows. What do you say, Mr. Stonington?"
"I say yes, of course."
"And may we come?" asked Grace. "My brother may be there."
The two men did not answer for a moment. Then Mr. Hammond said in a low voice:
"Their launch would come in useful, and really there is not much danger in daylight."
"Very well," said Mr. Stonington. "I'll go along too."
"Aren't you going to rescue them to-night?" asked The Loon.
"It would be impossible, Harry," said Mr. Hammond, gently. "They might escape in the darkness, and take your friend, and Tom, with them. We'll get ready to descend on their camp at daybreak. That will be best."
After some thought The Loon agreed to this, and those in the other searching boats, one or two of them being small launches, having been informed of the return of the girls, the whole flotilla went back to the orange grove.
The Loon was given a place to sleep, and then the girls told more of their story. Mr. Stonington told how, becoming worried over the long stay of the young people, he had organized a searching party, getting more and more alarmed as the hours went by without the return of Betty and her chums.
It was rather a restless night in Orangeade, and all were astir early, for they wanted to be at the Everglade camp by daylight. Two extra launches besides theGemmade the trip, the others carrying a number of sturdy men headed by Mr.Hammond. Mr. Stonington went with the girls, The Loon steering.
By taking a little different course the boats were able to approach close to the camp in the forest fastness, and at a signal from The Loon all came to a stop.
"We had better walk the rest of the way," said the half-witted lad. "They may hear the boats."
"Good idea," said Mr. Hammond. "Harry is smarter than any of us think."
A faint gleam of light was beginning to straggle through the trees when the party, with The Loon in the lead, set off to march to the Everglade camp. There was a narrow trail, and Mr. Stonington insisted on the girls keeping to the rear.
Silent was the approach, and the only sounds heard were those made by the awakening denizens of the woods. Presently those in front of the girls halted. Word was whispered back along the line:
"We're there!"
"Then don't you come any farther," said Mr. Stonington to Betty and the others. "There may be no trouble; but it's best to be on the safe side. We'll bring the rescued ones back here."
Wondering what would happen, and not a little alarmed, the girls waited.
Taken by surprise by the sudden rush of Mr. Hammond and his men those in charge of the Everglade camp, and the miserable creatures they held in virtual bondage, offered little resistance. There was neither time nor chance for any.
Well armed, but fortunately not being obliged to use their weapons, the men from the orange grove made such a show of strength that resistance seemed out of the question.
The camp, as the girls saw afterward, was merely a collection of miserable huts. Some were better than others, and it was to these that the rescuers turned their attention, for in them were the "bosses" of the camp.
Mr. Hammond and his men made a rush for these, and, surrounding them, called on those within to surrender. At first there was sleepy-eyed surprise as the rough men ran out. Some showed a disposition to fight, but Mr. Hammondcoollysaid:
"It's of no use, men. We've got you just where we want you, and we're enough in numbers to take you all prisoners. We only want a couple of young fellows you have here."
"We've a right to all the help we have!" growled the leader of the campers: "We've got the papers to show it, too!"
"I don't doubt but what you've got papers—forged ones, though," replied Mr. Hammond sternly. "We won't dispute that. But you haven't any papers for my man, Tom Osborne."
"Tom Osborne—your man—was he the one that——"
The leader began thus, but he did not finish. He saw the damaging admission he was about to make.
"Yes, Tom Osborne!" exclaimed Mr. Hammond. "I say Tom, where are you?" he called, loudly.
"Here, Mr. Hammond!" was a shout from a distant shack. "Are the young ladies all right?"
"Yes, they're here to help rescue you. Tumble over there, some of you," directed Mr. Hammond to his men, "and let Tom out. Break in the door!"
"I say now!" began the leader of the campers, "that won't do——"
"That's enough from you," warned Mr. Hammond sternly. "Smash in that door, men!"
A little later Tom Osborne, rather forlorn andmiserable from his night'simprisonmentin a tumble-down shack, walked out, his bonds having been cut.
"Now for your friend, Harry," said Mr. Hammond to The Loon. "We must get him out next."
"There's some young fellow in the shack next to where I was," said Tom Osborne. "I heard him talking to himself early in the evening, but not since daylight. I guess he's the one you mean."
A rush was made for the wretched place, and the door was burst in, but the hut was empty.
"He's gone!" cried The Loon. "They've taken him to some other place. Oh, I'll never be able to keep my word to him!"
"We'll find him," declared Mr.Hammond. "I don't know who he was, but we'll get him. Look in every shack, men!"
In turn every cabin was inspected. Many wretched young men, and some old ones, too, were routed out, but the proprietors of the camp seemed to have a right to their services, either by contract, or through the action of the criminal laws. Sad indeed was their plight, but the rescuers had no legal right to take them away.
"Though I can, and will, proceed against you for taking Tom Osborne," declared Mr. Hammond. "And I'll see to it that you get the punishment you deserve."
Mr. Stonington said something in a low voice to the overseer.
"Oh, yes," went on Mr. Hammond. "If you want to tell what became of this other young man, whom you seem to have kept against his will, I'll do what I can to have your sentence lightened."
"He must have got away," said the head lumberman, sullenly. "He was such a spunky chap that we kept him locked up. And we had a right to him, too. He signed a contract."
"Probably an illegal one, if I'm any judge of your methods," said Mr. Hammond, grimly. "I don't blame him for getting away, but I wish we could have rescued him. He may be in a bad plight in this swamp."
An inspection of the cabin where Tom had said some other prisoner had been held showed a board forced off in the rear, and it was evident that the unknown young man had gotten out this way when the guard was asleep—for the camp was kept under guard, so fearful were the bosses that their wretched slaves would escape.
"Well, we can't do much more here," said Mr. Hammond, looking about. They had inspected every cabin, and the men had searched in various places.
"You have my last word," said Mr. Hammond, grimly, as the rescue party prepared to leave the miserable camp, "if you produce that young man I'll do what I can to have the courts deal easy with you. If not—you'll get the limit!"
"I tell you he escaped!" insisted the head of the lumbermen. "And if you think you can scare us, go ahead. If you hadn't so many with you, and if my men had the spunk of chickens, there'd be a different ending to this," he added, vindictively.
"Don't be rash," advised Mr. Hammond.
The girls were permitted a distant view of the camp, and then they started for their boats, Tom in the midst of the girls, explaining to them his seeming desertion. The Loon was worried over his failure to rescue the unknown young man who had given him money.
"Never mind," consoled Mr. Hammond. "We may find him later. We'll keep a lookout as we go along. If he has any sense he'll get out of this swamp, anyhow."
"I wonder who he may be?" said Grace. "Oh, if only we could go to the rescue of my brother. I wish we would get some news of him."
"We all do, dear," spoke Mollie, gently.
Tom Osborne, on the way back in theGemwith the girls and Mr. Stonington, told his story. He had prepared the luncheon, and, seeing the girls going out on the little neck of land to gather flowers, he recalled seeing some blooms, of the orchid variety, farther in the woods.
Thinking to give the girls a surprise, he decided to gather some before they returned. He set off, but the flowers grew farther away than he thought, and before he realized it he was a mile from the glade.
"Then, all at once," he related, "a couple of rough fellows sprang out at me, and before I could do anything they had me tied."
"How awful!" exclaimed Betty.
"I thought so at the time," said Tom, grimly. "I couldn't imagine why they wanted me, but when they led me off into the swamp I understood. They were after workers, and they'd do anything to get them."
Happily the days are past when such things aredone, but a few years ago, before the law intervened, men who were making money by getting valuable timber, and other products, from the Southern forests, stopped at little in order to obtain the necessary labor.
Tom was taken to the Everglade camp, which explains why the calls of the girls did not reach him. Strong and healthy, he was a great "find" for the unscrupulous contractors, but as he stubbornly refused to work he was made a prisoner in one of the shacks.
It was there that he got into communication with The Loon. Poor Harry, wandering about in the swamps and forests in search of the young man who, some time previous, had given him money to go for aid for him, came within talking distance of where Tom was locked up. Tom knew the half-witted fellow, and quickly whispered an appeal to him.
"I told him to go back and find you girls," said Tom, "and tell you why I couldn't get back. Then I asked him to tell you to get help."
"And I did," spoke The Loon, proudly.
"Indeed you did," declared Tom, patting him on the back.
"I only wish I could have helped the other one," went on Harry.
"But who was he—can't you tell his name, orsomething about him?" asked Mr. Hammond.
The Loon shook his head.
"I forget," he muttered. "All I know is that I saw him up in the other camp—away off. He gave me money then, and told me to go to someone—I forget who—to send a message over the telegraph wires, you know. He wrote it down, but I lost that and the money. Then I went back, but they had taken him away. I trailed him, though, and found him where I saw Tom. Then I ran to meet you girls. I was afraid, too."
"You were brave, Harry," said Mr. Hammond.
"Was I?" asked the simple lad, well pleased.
Tom told more details of his imprisonment; how he heard sounds from an adjoining cabin that would indicate some other unfortunate was held there. He heard the men discussing his case, and planning to force him to work in the morning.
Then had come the rescue.
Through the gathering morning light theGemproceeded on her way. Tom was at the wheel, having been refreshed by coffee which Betty and Mollie made aboard their craft.
A lookout was kept for any signs of a refugee on the way back to the orange grove, but none was seen.
"He may be hiding in the swamp," said Mr. Hammond. "He may come out after dark, and make his way to our place. I hope he does."
"I am going to look for him," said The Loon.
Poor fellow! In spite of his simple ways, he showed a devotion of which one with a stronger mind might have been proud.
"Can't something be done for him?" asked Mr. Stonington, nodding in the direction of Harry. "Ought not we to keep him with us?"
"It would be hard work," answered Mr. Hammond. "He is used to going and coming as he pleases. He wanders all about this region. He is harmless."
Without further incident the orange grove was reached. Tom Osborne, tired and worn out, received every attention, and was soon himself again. Mr. Hammond communicated with the authorities regarding the men of the camp, but little could be done. There were legal complications hard to avoid.
"But, at any rate," said Mr. Stonington, "we have rescued Tom, and that other young man has escaped."
"Perhaps to a worse fate," observed Mr. Hammond.
Days passed. The outdoor girls enjoyed their life in the orange grove, but Grace fretted because no word came from her brother. He seemed to have disappeared completely.
Following the receipt of a letter from her father, containing no news, Grace was so gloomy that one day Betty proposed a ride in the launch.
"It will do you good," she said to Grace. "We will take our lunch again, and——"
"Get trapped by alligators or snakes?" suggested Amy.
"No!" declared Mollie. "We'll take The Loon along, and he will look after us," for Harry was back from one of his wanderings. He spent much time away from the grove, seeking in many strange places for the young man who had appealed to him for help. But he did not find him.
So the girls went for a little excursion. In spite of the gloom that seemed to hang over them they had an enjoyable time.
They were scanning the shores ahead of them, looking for a suitable place to land and eat their lunch, when Betty, who had taken the wheel, with The Loon to stand beside and direct her steering, uttered a cry and pointed ahead.
"See!" she said. "What is that?"
The other girls looked.
"Some sort of a raft," answered Mollie.
"And someone is on it!" added Amy.
"It's a man!" cried Grace. "A young man! Oh, maybe it's the one who escaped from the Everglade swamp. Hurry to him, Betty!"
As she spoke the figure on the raft rose to his knees, and waved a hand at the girls. Then the youth, for such he was seen to be, toppled over on his rude craft, and went drifting down the current.
"Slow up a little, Betty. Now ahead to starboard! Reverse! I have it!"
Thus cried Mollie, who stood at the bow of theGemwith a boathook in her grasp, while the motor craft approached the rude raft on which lay the body of an unconscious youth. Mollie had caught the hook in the edge of the boards and the motor boat was now beside it.
"What—what are we going to do with him?" asked Amy.
"Get him aboard, of course," said Betty, shortly. She was busy making fast a line to a projection on the raft. TheGemwas now drifting with the craft containing the young man.
"We never can!" cried Grace. "Oh, perhaps he's——"
She did not say what she thought.
"We've just got to get him up here, and take him to a doctor," declared Betty, fiercely. "He looks half-starved."
There was a moment of hesitation among the girls—a natural hesitation—and then Betty andMollie with an understanding look at each other climbed from the boat to the raft. It was big and strong enough to support much more weight; for, though it was rudely made, it was substantial, being composed of tree trunks, and boards, bound together with withes, forest vines, and bits of rope.
"He—he's breathing—anyhow," said Mollie, softly.
"Yes, we—we must lift him up," spoke Betty. "Come on."
They exposed the pale and drawn face of the youth on the raft. At the sight of it Grace, who with Amy was leaning breathlessly over the side of the boat, uttered a cry.
"It's Will!" she screamed, half-hysterically. "It's my brother Will!"
Betty and Mollie started back, and nearly let the limp body slip off the raft.
"What—what!" cried Betty, for the figure of the youth bore no resemblance to Will; nor did the features. But the eyes of a sister were not to be deceived.
"It is Will!" she cried. "I have been hoping and praying all the while that it might be he—and it is. It's Will!"
She would have gotten down to the raft had not Amy restrained her.
"I believe it is Will," said Mollie, taking a closer look. "We have found him."
"Then let's get him aboard at once, and help him," said practical Betty. "Amy, start that coffee. Grace, you help us! And Harry, too!"
Thus the Little Captain issued her orders.
How they got Will Ford aboard the boat the girls could not tell afterward. But they did, with The Loon's aid, and soon he was being given hot coffee. Slowly his senses came back, and when some warm broth had been slowly fed to him he opened his eyes, looked wonderingly about him, and asked hoarsely:
"Is it real—or am I dreaming again?"
"It's real, Will dear," said Grace, putting her arms about him, as he lay in one of the bunks. "Oh, to think that we have found you again! Where have you been, and what happened to you?"
"Where haven't I been?" he asked, smiling a little. "And what hasn't happened to me?"
"But you're all right now," said Grace, comfortingly.
"But what in the world are you girls doing down here?" Will asked, wonderingly. "It's like a dream. How did you come here?"
"To rescue you," replied Mollie, with a laugh.
"Really?"
"Well, almost really."
Will grew better every minute and wanted to tell his story, but the girls insisted on waiting, except for the most important details, until he had reached the orange grove. To satisfy him, however, they told how they came to be in Florida.
As for The Loon, no sooner had he a sight of Will's face than he danced about like a child, and cried:
"That's him! That's the one! He's the one I went to get help for!"
"That's right, my boy," said Will, weakly.
"I—I lost the money and note," faltered poor Harry. "But I thought you had fooled me."
"But, after all, he was the means of saving Tom, and, in a way, you, also," said Grace.
"Who's Tom?" asked Will.
And they told him.
That there was surprise at Orangeade when the outdoor girls arrived with Will Ford can easily be imagined. The first thing done was to send a telegram to Mr. Ford, apprising him that his son was found.
Then Will told his story.
The first part the girls were already familiar with—how, tiring of life in Uncle Isaac's mill,he had determined to strike out for himself.
"Then I fell in with a plausible talker," explained Will, "and he persuaded me he had a great scheme for making money. Well, before I knew it I had signed some papers—foolishly. At first I was given decent clerical work to do, and then the scheme failed, I was transferred to another part of the State, and to another company, and in some way, by a juggling of contracts, not knowing what I was doing, it seems that I signed an agreement to work in a timber camp. Say, it was worse than being in prison, and some of the fellows were prisoners, I heard. There were one or two others like myself; but we couldn't get away.
"Then I wrote that letter to dad and threw it out of the car window. From then on I've lived a dog's life. I've been a regular slave. Many a time I'd have given anything to be back, even with Uncle Isaac. This has been a lesson to me."
Will went on to tell how he had been taken from place to place with the others until he finally was held in the Everglade swamp, and made to get out timber from the forest.
"I thought it was all up with me then," he said. "Before that I had met this chap," and he nodded toward The Loon. "I thought he could help me, and he promised to. I managedto speak to him on the quiet, and gave him what money I had managed to hide away from those slave-drivers. He went off, promising to bring help."
"And he tried, too," said Grace. "He helped us first, though." And she told of getting the motor boat away from the manatee.
"Just to think!" cried Will. "There he was, talking to you girls all the while, and me only a few miles away, though I was moved later."
"I—I'm sorry," spoke The Loon.
"Oh, you couldn't help it, Harry," voiced Betty, softly. "After all, it came out all right, and you helped a lot."
"Indeed he did," agreed Tom Osborne. "Only for him Will and I might still be prisoners."
Will related how he had broken from the shack shortly before the rescuers reached the Everglade camp, and how, after much suffering, having previously cut his foot, which made him lame, and wandering about in the woods, he had made the raft and floated down the river. What little food he had gave out, and he had fainted from weakness and exposure just as the girls' boat came in sight.
"But we have you back again," declared Grace.
"Yes, and you can make up your minds I'mnot going to be so foolish again," spoke her brother. "This has been a lesson to me—one I won't forget in a hurry."
"Well, now you can stay with us and have a good time," said his sister. "I guess you need it."
"I sure do," said Will, fervently.
On hearing Will's story Mr. Hammond and Mr. Stonington went to the authorities again, to proceed against the unscrupulous men who had so mistreated him.
But they had left that part of the State, and could not be traced. One reason, Will thought, why they held him a prisoner, was because they had violated the law in regard to the treatment of the working-prisoners, and did not want to be reported. And the reason The Loon's description of Will gave no clue to the girls was because of Grace's brother's temporary lameness, and his change due to poor living and ragged clothes.
Then came happy days. Mr. and Mrs. Ford, rejoicing over the news of their son being found, sent word for him to stay with the girls, and they would join him in Florida. As for the girls—Mollie, Amy and Betty shared with Grace the fun of showing Will about the lovely place where they had spent the winter.
The Loon found a comfortable home with one of Mr. Hammond's workers, and made himself very useful about the orange grove. He could not do enough for the girls, or for Will and Tom, the latter two becoming fast chums, as they had been companions in misery.
"And to think that soon we will have to leave this lovely place," said Grace one day, when they had come back from a long trip on the river in theGem. "It is perfect here."
"It is," agreed Mollie, "but do you know I am rather lonesome for the sight of a snowball, or an icicle."
"Mollie Billette!" cried Amy.
"Well, I am! Too much loveliness palls on one after a bit. Of course it's lovely here, Amy, but we are Northern girls, and one winter in the South can't change us."
"Well, we have certainly had some strange adventures here," remarked Betty, as she swung her boat up to the dock.
"And with all the orange blossoms, none of us has worn any yet," remarked Grace, laughing.
"Oh, I don't know," said Mollie, with a mischievous look at Betty. "I think some of us have a chance. I saw Tom Osborne out in the moonlight with you last night, Grace."
"You did not!"
"Yes, I did, and he——"
"Have a chocolate!" capitulated Grace.
And now the time has come to take leave of the outdoor girls—at least for a time. Perhaps we may meet them again, under other circumstances. For they are destined to have other adventures, fully as absorbing as those I have already set down.