CHAPTER XV
THE COLONEL SPEAKS HIS MIND
At the sound of Colonel Ellison’s familiar voice Norman Redfern, whittling a piece of wood in the cabin, sprang to his feet and stepped out on deck.
The sudden appearance of the Colonel was quite the greatest surprise he had experienced in many a day; and when he saw a half dozen boys, this was still another.
“See here, Redfern,” thundered Colonel Ellison, with an emphatic wave of his arm, “what do you think of yourself? Such a miserable piece of conduct; such a downright, underhanded scheme of paltry revenge is beyond my comprehension. I could have the law on you!”
“Why—what have I done?” stammered Norman, altogether taken aback by the sudden attack, and embarrassed by the snickers of the students.
“What have you done—you have theaudacity to stand there and calmly ask me that? Well——” the Colonel brought his right fist down in the palm of his left hand with a resounding smack, and glanced at the group of boys, as if to say, “Just listen to that.”
“He’s got his nerve with him, all right,” said Bates, unable to conceal his pleasure.
If there was any row under way, Bates could be depended upon to help it along.
“I will tell you, then,” stormed Colonel Ellison. “When you found your whines and wretched excuses were of no avail——”
“Pardon me, Colonel Ellison, I made no excuses,” interrupted Redfern, his face flushing.
“Now this is what I call a real interesting conversation,” said Bates.
“What did you do?” went on the Colonel, without heeding these interruptions. “You induced my ward to join a gang of rascally, irresponsible boys, who are idling away their time in a miserable mud-scow. A fine thing for a man of your age to be with such a crowd.”
“Simply awful,” said Bates.
“You are mistaken, Colonel Ellison,” said Redfern, and there was a certain ring in the ex-tutor’s voice which the Colonel had never heard in it before.
“Do you have the effrontery to deny it?”
“I’ll bet he will,” came from Bates. “He’s tipping a wink to those chaps in back.”
Jack Lyons stepped forward.
“I know all about this affair,” he remarked, calmly. “Redfern had nothing to do with it. He tried to make George go back home, and——”
“I’ve heard that voice before,” exclaimed the angry Colonel. “Boy, where have I seen you?”
The speaker gazed searchingly at Jack Lyons, whose face was clearly revealed by the moonlight, and almost instantly added, “Why, you’re the very boy who was in my house, and—didn’t I see you on the road just a few minutes ago?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Ah! And you saw fit to change your voice, eh? and actually had the impudence to tell me you hadn’t even seen a house-boat?”
“Sad, very sad case,” observed Bates.
“I beg pardon, Colonel; I said I hadn’t seen any rascally boys, and that’s the truth.”
“You are one of the young scamps yourself,” thundered Colonel Ellison. “I suppose, Redfern, you will even deny that George was on the boat?”
“You ought to know me better than that, sir.”
“He’s losing his nerve,” said Bates.
“Well, just understand, Redfern, that if I ever catch you having anything more to do with my nephew I shall seek redress through the law. George will go back with me to-night, and——”
“A mighty good thing for George, too,” remarked the irresponsible Bates.
“I have given orders that you shall never be allowed to enter my grounds again. Do you understand me?”
“You have done me an injustice in one case, and are repeating it in another.”
“Injustice? Fiddlesticks! You are a cowardly, underhanded scoundrel. For all I know, my ward may be hiding inside at this very moment.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit, sir,” said Bates. “I’d search the house from cellar to garret.”
“Hey, you smart duck,” interposed Jack. “You’re throwing your words around pretty fast, now aren’t you?”
“What’s that?” demanded Bates. His exasperating grin grew broader; he stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, “What’s that?” again, in a much louder and shriller key; and, as Jack made no response, continued, “Salt water might take some of the freshness out of you—this water is salt.”
“Is it?” said Jack.
“It is—to reverse your words,” returned Bates.
“If you don’t stop that grin pretty soon,” said Jack, solemnly, “it may get frozen on your face.”
Bates opened his mouth to make a reply, but Colonel Ellison interposed.
“Enough of this silly bantering,” he said, sternly. “George!” he raised his voice—“if you are in that boat, I command you to come out!”
“Ah, the plot thickens,” said Bates.
“Redfern, bring that mud-scow further inshore,” went on the Colonel, sharply.
“George is not on board; my word must be sufficient.”
Colonel Ellison stared at the speaker in unconcealed astonishment. He had felt a sort of grim triumph in the thought of forcing the mild-mannered young man to execute his commands. But something of the spirit of Jack Lyons seemed to have been aroused within Norman Redfern, and he returned his former employer’s gaze unflinchingly.
“You absolutely defy me, then?” cried the Colonel, furiously.
“Oh, he’s a sly one,” said Bates. “The water’s deep enough here; you mustn’t let him fool you, sir.”
“And he won’t. Once more, Redfern, will you bring that boat close ashore?”
“You can come over in the dory.”
“A nice way to talk,” said Bates. “But don’t get in a cranky little boat like that, sir. Not one of us would think of risking it; you’d be upset sure—hello! Didn’t I hear a sound inside the boat—listen!”
Sure enough; something had evidentlydropped to the floor; then came a repetition of the sound.
“It’s as certain as you’re knee-high to a grasshopper, there’s some one inside!” cried Bates, excitedly.
He walked quickly past a tree to the edge of the steep bank, stopping at a position which afforded a good view into the brightly lighted cabin.
“See anything?” queried one of the students.
“Kind of,” was the rather non-committal response.
Colonel Ellison stepped hastily forward and paused by the student’s side.
“Redfern,” he began, sternly, “I——”
Then, without warning, a curious thing happened.
The bank suddenly began to slide away beneath their combined weight. Bates gave a wild cry of alarm, and scrambled to safety, while Colonel Ellison, finding himself going down amidst an avalanche of dirt, sticks and stones, frantically threw his arms above his head. His hands closed tightly over the tree’s lowest branch, and the next instant the doughty Colonel was suspended over the water,with the branch slowly dipping down beneath his weight.
“Help!” he yelled, in an amazingly loud voice, holding to his frail support with the grip of despair.
“Good land!” cried Bates.
“Much needed,” said another.
“Help! Don’t stand around like a lot of addlepates!” shouted the Colonel, furiously.
Several feet of the bank, splashing into the water, had sent forth a succession of rollers. The victim’s dangling legs could find no support, and each instant, fearful that the branch might break, Colonel Ellison could only look at the dark, lapping water just below and anticipate the dreadful moment when he would be immersed.
It was certainly a strange spectacle in the moonlight to see the usually dignified Colonel dangling from the limb like a fish at the end of a line; and when the first moment of surprise and alarm had passed, several very suspicious gurgles came from the students.
Jack Lyons was the first to take action. The second tremendous blow from the Colonel’s fog-horn voice had scarcely ceased echoing,when, with a cheery, “Hang on tight, sir,” he jumped into the dory, quickly untied it, and paddled in Indian fashion toward the victim, whose feet were now almost touching the water.
“Hurry!” gasped Colonel Ellison, despairingly. “I can’t hold on much longer.”
“All right, sir!”
The boat glided beneath his feet.
“Be careful,” said Jack. “Steady—don’t let go till I say the word.”
He reached up, bore his weight upon the limb, and the Colonel’s feet soon rested upon the bottom of the boat.
“Take your time, sir—easy now.”
But the Colonel was in too excited a frame of mind to heed this advice, and only Jack’s watchfulness and care prevented a catastrophe.
“Rest your hand on my shoulder, sir,” said the boy. “I’ll steady her—look out!”
For an instant it looked as if the Colonel would upset them both. Advice and suggestions came in a steady stream from the shore.
“Don’t be afraid, sir; if you fall in, we’ll fish you out,” yelled Bates, encouragingly.
“HANG ON TIGHT, SIR”
“HANG ON TIGHT, SIR”
But Jack’s skilful efforts finally triumphed, and Colonel Ellison was landed safely on shore.
Perhaps never before had so many conflicting emotions surged through his brain. He was conscious that he had cut a very sorry figure before the much despised tutor; and the mirthful chuckles and grinning faces which the moonlight disclosed added to his feelings of wrath and mortification. He owed a debt of gratitude to Jack Lyons, yet he could not force his lips to frame the words which he knew the boy deserved.
While in this very uncomfortable state of mind, there was a crashing among the underbrush some distance off, and the group saw a slim figure dashing madly toward them.
“Pierre!” gasped Colonel Ellison.
The chauffeur, who seemed about to hurl himself bodily upon the foremost, stopped short, breathless and panting, and stared wild-eyed at the group before him.
“Monsieur the Colonel, Monsieur le Colonel, I had such fear,” he stammered. “Such fear!” he placed his hand over his heart; “I hear you cry, ‘Au secours!’ and I run, oh,how I run! Ah, I had such fear—but you no hurt, eh?”
Pierre’s words came out in a series of jerks, and he stood quite still, as if the shock yet gripped his heart.
Bates whistled.
“Certainly I am not hurt, Pierre!” exclaimed Colonel Ellison, his tone indicating a great lack of appreciation for his chauffeur’s solicitude.
“Ah, then I am content, monsieur the Colonel; I had such fear—for why you——”
“You should never have left the automobile, Pierre,” said the Colonel, hastily.
“But your voice; it came over ze air like——”
“A steam whistle in distress.”
“And I say, ‘Ze Colonel, he must need me.’”
“Horrible carelessness, anyhow,” said Bates. “I’d give him a piece of my mind. But, if you please, sir, don’t you think there’s some one hiding inside that house-boat? You heard a noise yourself. What’s that over there?”
Norman Redfern was holding up a smallobject which emitted several plaintive squeaks and tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
“The pup was on the table, and knocked off a couple of pieces of wood,” he explained.
“Oh!” exclaimed Bates, sadly disappointed.
“Go right back, Pierre,” commanded Colonel Ellison, with a frown. “Such a valuable machine should never be left for an instant.”
“Of course it shouldn’t,” remarked Bates.
“Very good, monsieur the Colonel; I go,” said Pierre, bowing. “Ah, but I had fear! Ma foi, but I no understand why you——”
“That will do, Pierre—go!” thundered Colonel Ellison; and the chauffeur turned away sadly puzzled.
“When George returns,” remarked the Colonel, grimly, “he will find me here.”
“And now,” said Bates, “this little party is entirely composed of pleasant people. Let us introduce each of us to the other; fellows, step up. Don’t be afraid—light isn’t strong enough to show your faces very well. Colonel—Ralph Chickers, sometimes known as ‘Chickens’; Ben Drayton; Tom Allen—he’s only done one sensible thing in his life—enteredThornton Preparatory School; here’s Sam Wilde, and, last and least, Ban Twining.”
“Like fun,” came from the owner of that name.
“Of course I do,” said Bates.
Jack Lyons and Joe Preston entered into the jolly spirit of the students; but Colonel Ellison, like an avenging nemesis, kept aloof, his tall, gaunt figure moving almost silently up and down the bank, stopping only now and then to listen intently to any suspicious sounds which came from the woods.
Bates seemed astonished to learn that Norman Redfern was a graduate of Ripley.
“H’m,” he sniffed. “I can tell by your voice that you hate to admit it. Why, we’re kind of looking after a lot of foolish Ripley chaps now. Guess at this very minute they must be doing the babes in the woods act. What’s that?”
A voice came floating over the silent air; its tone of anguish and utter despair made them look at each other in alarm.
“Monsieur the Colonel, monsieur the Colonel, it’s gone!”
“Gone!” cried Colonel Ellison, with a start. “What does the man mean?”
“Looks like another circus coming,” grinned Bates, in delight.
The crashing amidst the underbrush grew louder, and Pierre presently emerged, waving his arms even more furiously than before, while his agonized spirit poured itself forth in a series of wails.
“Monsieur the Colonel, he—it—has gone!” he gasped. “Gone!”
“What?” roared the Colonel. “The machine gone?—it can’t be possible!”
“That’s what I say, monsieur the Colonel. I run both ways on ze road, but I nevaire see him; it’s gone!” and Pierre wrung his hands in despair.
“Ah, ha!” said Bates.
“Gee whiz!” cried Jack Lyons. “Come ahead, fellows!”
“More excitement, eh?” chimed in Joe, as he followed Jack.
Without a word, Colonel Ellison strode toward the woods; his face wore a terrible frown, and with one look he completely silenced the unhappy chauffeur.
Jack Lyons and Joe Preston reached the road with the students.
“Yep,” said Bates. “Not a sign of it. Oh, what a row I feel coming.”
In a moment, Colonel Ellison and Pierre burst out of the wood, the former almost winded by his unusual exertions.
The pale moonlit road, as far as it could be seen, was deserted. No sound but the lowing of a cow away off in the distance broke the silence.
“Gone!” cried the Colonel, in a terrible voice.
“Gone!” echoed Pierre, weakly.
“You stupid jackanapes,” shouted Colonel Ellison, now completely overcome with wrath. “This is a pretty kettle of fish—a valuable machine stolen, and we stranded here on a lonely country road, miles from anywhere—a fine muddle you’ve put us in! How dare you look me in the face?”
“Oh, monsieur the Colonel.”
“Don’t moo-seer the Colonel me!” roared the angry gentleman, beginning to pace excitedly up and down.
“It’s terrible,” said Bates, after some momentshad elapsed. “You’ll never see that whizzer again. Fine autos can’t be plucked from trees.”
“Monsieur the Colonel,” pleaded the unhappy chauffeur, “I hear you cry, ‘au secour’; and I say——”
“Silence!” thundered his master. “Redfern is responsible for this. He shall——”
“What’s that noise?” interrupted Bates, holding up his hand with the greatest assurance. “Listen, sir! It sounds exactly as if the house-boat was putting off. Hello; those two chaps belonging to it have disappeared; that settles it—they are giving you the slip. Bet your ward is on the old pile of logs, after all, and you’re jolly well left again, sir.”
A distinct, though faint pulsation had suddenly started up.
“Come with us, sir,” yelled Bates, “and we’ll chase ’em.”
“After the rascals!” roared Colonel Ellison. “Very likely you are right.”
A group of shadowy figures were soon struggling pell-mell through the woods, the boys giving their school yells.