With the coming of morning the mist cleared away as if by magic, and soon the warm sunshine put all on board of the gasoline launch in better spirits.
"How is the dog?" questioned Dick, of the owner of the canine.
"He has been pretty well mauled up, but I think he'll come around with proper attention," answered the young Southerner. "He is a valuable animal—valuable to me because he was a pet of my father—and I'd hate to lose him."
All were hungry and ate their morning lunch with considerable satisfaction, washing it down with some coffee made on a small oil stove that had been brought along.
"Well, I don't see anything of the houseboat," announced Dick, as he stood on a seat and took a long and careful look around. "Not a craft or a building of any kind in sight."
"Some negroes used to live on the north shore of the lake," saidHarold Bird, "but the floods last year made them vacate in a hurry."
It was decided to move around the shore of the lake slowly, scanning every cove and inlet with care. That the houseboat was hidden somewhere on that expanse of water none of the party had any doubt.
"You could take quite a trip in this launch," said Sam to HaroldBird, as they moved along. "The more I see of the craft the betterI like her. May I ask what she is worth?"
"I gave two thousand dollars for her. I bought her in New Orleans and brought her up the river myself. The folks around here don't know much about gasoline launches, but I think she's as nice a craft as anybody would wish."
"How much water does she draw?"
"Only two and a half feet when loaded down—so you see we can get over some pretty shallow spots, if it is necessary."
They were moving along a scantily-wooded stretch of shore when Tom let out a short cry:
"Stop!"
"What's up, Tom?" asked several.
"I saw somebody just now—back of yonder bushes. He stepped out and then stepped back again."
"Was it one of the men we are after?" asked Sam.
"I don't know—he got out of sight before I had a good look at him."
"We'll have to investigate," said Dick, and to this the others agreed. With all possible haste the launch was run to the shore and Sam, Tom, and Dick got out, followed by Harold Bird. The dog came also, limping along painfully.
"Find him, Dandy, find him!" said the young Southerner, in a low tone, and the dog seemed to understand. He put his nose to the ground, ran around for several minutes, and then started off through the bushes.
"Do you think he has struck the trail?" asked Tom.
"I am sure of it," was Harold Bird's positive reply.
The young Southerner called to the dog, and Dandy went forward more slowly, so that they could keep him in sight. They passed through one patch of bushes and then came to a clear space, beyond which was a field of wild sugarcane.
Hardly had the dog struck the cleared spot when from a distance came the report of a pistol. Dandy leaped up in the air, came down in a heap, and lay still.
"Somebody has shot the dog!" cried Sam. "What a shame!"
Harold Bird said nothing, but ran to where the canine lay. Dandy was breathing his last, and in a minute it was all over.
"Poor fellow!" murmured the young Southerner, and there were tears in his eyes. "First the bob cats and now a pistol bullet! Oh, if I can only catch the rascal who fired that shot I'll make him suffer for this!"
"The fellow killed the dog, so the animal could not trail him," saidDick. "It was certainly a dirty trick."
"It shows that the man is a criminal," put in Tom. "He would not be afraid of us if he was honest."
"And therefore it must have been Gasper Pold or Solly Jackson," said Sam.
"What will you do with the dog?" asked Dick, after an awkward pause.
"Take him back to the boat and bury him," answered the young Southerner."I don't want the wild beasts to feed on him."
"Hadn't we better follow up that man first?"
"We can do so, if you wish."
They passed on and looked around that vicinity with care. It must be confessed that they were afraid of being shot at, but nothing of the sort occurred. At one point they saw some footsteps, but these came to an end in a creek flowing into the lake.
As the ground in that vicinity was very treacherous there was nothing to do but to return to the launch and this they did, Harold Bird and Dick carrying the dead dog between them. All were sorry that the canine was dead, for they realized that the animal had done its best for them against the bob cats.
They had no spade, but with some flat sticks managed to scoop out a hole of respectable depth and in this they buried the canine. Over the spot the young Southerner placed a peculiar stick to mark the spot.
"He was a fine dog and was once the pet of my father," he said. "Some day I may place a monument over his grave."
They left the vicinity and continued on their trip around the lake, scanning every indentation of the shore for a possible glimpse of theDora. There were many winding places, so it was noon before the task was half completed.
"This is growing to be a longer hunt than I anticipated," remarkedFred. "I thought finding the houseboat would be dead easy."'
Lunch was had, and once again they went on the search, this time at a point where a bayou joined Lake Sico to a smaller lake. Here they had to move with care, for the bayou was filled with the hidden roots of trees long since thrown down by storms.
"Of ve ton't look out ve peen caught in dem dree roots," observed Hans, looking down into the water. "Say, ton't da look like vater snakes?"
"They certainly do, and they are almost as dangerous—for the launch."
Soon came a grinding tinder the boat and the screw came to a standstill. A tree root had caught fast, and further progress was out of the question until the screw could be cleared.
"I'll go over and do the job!" cried Tom. "I know how." And the others being willing he divested himself of most of his clothing, leaped overboard, and was soon at work. It was no light task, as he had to cut the root in several places with a jackknife.
"We had better land and look around," said Harold Bird. "I'd hate to get the screw caught again and break it, for then we'd certainly be in a pickle."
"Could the houseboat get through here?" questioned Fred.
"Yes, they could pole her through, with hard work," answered Dick.
They turned the gasoline launch to shore and tied fast. Then all began to leap out.
"This won't do," cried Dick. "Somebody ought to remain on the launch."
"I would like to go with you and look for the houseboat," answeredHarold Bird. "I think the launch will be safe where she is."
"If you want me to stay I'll do it, if Songbird will stay with me," said Fred.
"I'll stay," said Songbird, promptly.
So it was arranged, and leaving the two in charge of the gasoline launch, all the others of the party set off on their search for the missing houseboat.
Walking along the shore of the small lake was decidedly treacherous, and more than once one or another would slip down in the mud and slime.
"Hellup!" cried Hans, who had dragged behind, and looking back they saw the German lad in a bog hole up to his knees. "Hellup, oder I vos trowned alretty!"
"Can't you crawl out?" questioned Dick, running back.
"No, der mud vos like glue!" gasped Hans.
Tom came back also, and between them they managed to pull Hans from the sticky ooze, which was plastered over his trousers and shoes. The German lad gazed at himself ruefully.
"Now, ain't dot a nice mess?" he observed. "Vosn't I a beach!"
"Yes, but a pretty muddy one," laughed Dick. "But never mind now, come on. You can clean up when we get back."
The party soon reached a spot where the bushes grew in water several inches deep. Here, to avoid sinking in the mud, they had to make a wide detour.
"Listen!" cried Sam, presently, and held up his hand.
"What did you hear?" asked Harold Bird.
"I heard something as if somebody was walking through the brush yonder!"
"Maybe it was the men we are after!" cried Dick. "Come on!"
They continued to move forward until some fallen trees all but barred their further progress. Then they came to a small rise of ground—a veritable island in this swamp,—and reaching the highest point, gazed around them.
"What is that?" asked Sam, pointing with his hand to a round, black object showing above some bushes at a distance.
"Why, that looks like the smokestack of the houseboat!" cried Tom. He meant the stack to the chimney, for several rooms of the houseboat were furnished with stoves, to be used when the weather was chilly.
"We'll soon make certain," said Dick. "Forward, everybody!"
"Be careful!" cautioned Harold Bird. "Remember, you have desperate characters with whom to deal."
"Isn't everybody armed?" asked Sam. "I brought my pistol."
All were armed, and each took out his weapon and carried it in his hand. They wanted no shooting, but, after the killing of the dog, decided to take no chances.
It was no light task to reach the spot where the smokestack had been seen. They had another creek to cross and then had to crawl through some extra-thick bushes. But beyond was a stretch of clear water, and there they saw, safely tied to two trees, the object of their search, the missing houseboat.
"There she is!"
"She seems to be all right!"
"Shall we go on board?"
Such were the cries from the Rovers and their friends as they came in sight of theDora. The view of the houseboat filled them all with pleasure.
"Wait!" said Harold Bird. "Don't show yourselves!"
Dick at least understood and held the others back.
"Keep out of sight—we want to investigate first," he said, in a low tone. "There is no use in our running our heads into the lion's mouth."
"Mine cracious, vos der a lion aroundt here?" demanded Hans, turning pale.
"Maybe you'll find a lion if you don't keep quiet," answered Sam, with a snicker.
After that but little was said. Gradually they drew so close that they could see from one end of theDorato the other. Not a person was in sight.
"Really does look as if the craft was deserted," was Harold Bird's comment. "Perhaps they got scared when they saw what a crowd was following them."
"I move two of us go on board and the rest stay here," said Tom. "Then, if there is trouble, the crowd to stay behind can come to the rescue."
"That's a good scheme," answered his elder brother. "Supposing Sam and I go? You can lead the rescuing party, if it becomes necessary."
This was also agreed to, and a minute later Dick and Sam, with their pistols in hand, crawled from the bushes and made for the side of the houseboat. A gangplank was out and they saw the footprints of several men and also two horses.
"I don't like those much," said Dick, pointing to the hoofprints. "A horse here means that he was used for carrying some stuff away."
As nobody came to stop them, they walked on board of theDoraand looked into the gallery, that being the nearest apartment. The cook stove was still there, just as Aleck Pop had left it, but the pots and kettles were scattered in all directions and some of the best of the utensils were missing.
"This looks as if the houseboat had been looted!" cried Dick, and ran from the galley to the dining room and then to the living room, while Sam made his way to several of the staterooms.
Nobody but themselves was on board the houseboat and they soon announced that fact to the others in the bushes, and they came forward on a run.
"Did they steal anything?" demanded Tom.
"Steal anything?" repeated Sam. "They have taken about everything they could lay their hands on!"
"Everything is gone but the stove, piano, and bedding," said Dick. "And just to show their meanness they hacked the top of the piano with a hatchet!"
What Dick said was almost wholly true. The rascals had stolen everything of value that they could possibly carry, leaving behind little outside of the things already mentioned. Not only was the piano mutilated, but also the chairs, the dining-room table, and the berths in the stateroom. All of the lanterns but one were missing, and the small rowboat resting on the rear deck of the houseboat had its side stove in from an ax-blow.
"The fiends!" muttered Dick, as he gazed at the wreckage. "What they couldn't carry they tried to ruin!"
"What could you expect from fellows who would shoot my pet dog?" returned Harold Bird.
"I tell you, Dick Rover, those men ought to be landed in jail!"
"Well, we'll land them there!" cried Dick, earnestly.
"Do you mean that?"
"I certainly do."
"I will aid you all I can," answered the young Southerner heartily.
After that all made a thorough examination of the houseboat, to learn if they could find out anything concerning the thieves. Muddy footprints were visible in every apartment, but they told little.
"I think we are simply wasting time here," said Tom, presently. "The best we can do is to follow up those footprints outside and see where they lead to."
"Dot's so," said Hans. "Dis muss is so bad like it vill pe Lund vill get no petter py looking at him, ain't dot so?"
"All right, come on," said Sam, and led the way off the houseboat. "I don't believe those chaps intend to come back. They took all they wanted."
To follow the footprints was no easy task, and before long, they found themselves going through a swamp where the walking was extremely treacherous.
"I don't like this," said Sam. "They may have known the way, but we don't; and if we don't look out we'll get in so deep we'll be helpless."
"Yah, let us go back," said Hans, who had not forgotten his experience in the bog hole. "A feller can't schwim in vater mit mud up to his neck alretty!"
Again they had to turn back. As they did this Dick fancied he heard a faraway cry for help.
"Did you hear that?" he asked of Tom. "What?"
"I heard somebody call, I think."
"So did I," put in Harold Bird. "Listen!"
They listened, but the cry, or whatever it was, was not repeated.Soon they were back to the side of the houseboat once more.
"Do you think that call came from Fred or Songbird?" asked Sam.
"It might be, Sam," answered Dick. "Maybe we had better get back to the launch."
"Yes, yes, let us go back by all means!" exclaimed Harold Bird. "If your friends are in trouble we ought to aid them."
As rapidly as they could do so, they started back for the spot where the gasoline launch had been left. Once they lost their way, and got into a swamp from which it was next to impossible to get out.
"We'll have to go back!" cried Sam, after he had moved in several directions, only to find himself worse off than before.
"Be careful," warned Harold Bird. "If you aren't careful—Stop!"
All of the boys halted, for the command was out of the ordinary. The young Southerner was looking straight ahead of him.
"What is it?" questioned Tom, in a low tone, thinking some of the enemy might be near.
"Am I right, and is that a snake ahead?" asked Harold Bird. "It looks like a snake and still it may be nothing but the dead limb of a tree."
"Say, I ton't vonts me no snakes in mine!" ejaculated Hans, trying to retreat.
All the boys gazed at the object ahead with interest. Then Tom broke off a stick near him and threw it at the object. The latter did not budge.
"Must be a tree limb," said Tom. "But it looked enough like a snake to frighten anybody."
"I am not sure yet," answered Harold Bird. "You must remember that some of our southern snakes are very sluggish and only move when they are hungry or harassed."
"We'll give the limb, or whatever it is, a wide berth," said Sam.
They started to move to one side. But Tom was curious, and chancing to see a stone among some bushes, hurled it at the object, hitting it directly in the center.
Up came an ugly-looking head, the object whipped around swiftly, and the next instant the boys found themselves confronted by a swamp snake all of six feet long and as thick as a man's wrist!
"Mine cracious!" burst from Hans' lips. "It vos a snake annahow! Look out! he vill eat us up alife!"
"We must get out of here!" cried Sam. "Oh, Tom, why didn't you leave it alone?"
"I didn't really think it was a snake," answered the fun-loving Rover."Somebody shoot it!"
Queer as it was, nobody had thought to use his pistol, but as Tom spoke Dick pointed his weapon at the snake, that was crawling rapidly over the tree roots towards them. The puff of smoke was followed by a writhing of the reptile, and they saw that it had been hit although not fatally wounded.
"Wait, I'll give him another shot!" cried Sam, who now had his pistol out, and as the head of the snake came up over a tree root, the youngest Rover fired point-blank. His aim was true, and the head of the snake went down, and the body whirled this way and that in its death agonies.
"Is he—he dead?" faltered Tom.
"Next door to it," answered Harold Bird. "That last shot took him directly in the throat. I do not think he will bother us any more."
They saw the body of the snake sink down in the water beneath the upper roots of the tree, and then continued to retreat, making their way to what looked like safer ground. They were now completely turned around, with only the sun to guide them in their course.
"This is no joke," said Dick, gazing around in perplexity. "If we are not careful we'll become hopelessly lost."
"I think somebody had better climb a tree and look around," said Tom."I'll go up if somebody will boost me."
The others were willing, and soon the fun-loving youth was climbing a tall tree which stood somewhat apart from the others. He went up in rapid fashion and before long was close to the top.
"Can you see anything?" called up Sam, after what seemed to be a long pause.
"Hello!" cried Tom. "Why, there is the small lake and, yes, the launch is moving from the shore."
"The launch?" ejaculated Harold Bird. "Do you mean my gasoline launch?"
"It must be yours—or some craft very much like it," answered Tom."There, it is out of sight now behind the trees."
Tom waited for fully a minute, but the launch did not reappear.
"Who was on board?" questioned Dick, as his brother came down.
"I couldn't make out."
"Which is the way to the spot where we tied up?" asked the youngSoutherner, impatiently. "We must investigate this without delay."
"Over that way," answered Tom, pointing the direction out with his hand. "Come, I think I saw a good way to go."
Then all of the party struck out to reach the landing-place without delay. They felt that something unusual had occurred, but what, they could not surmise.
Left to themselves. Fred Garrison and Songbird Powell hardly knew what to do to pass away the time. With all of the others away the spot where the gasoline launch had been tied up appeared to be unusually lonely.
"I can tell you what, I shouldn't care to be caught all alone at night in such a spot as this," said Fred, with something of a shiver. "It is about as dismal as any place I've seen."
"Right you are," murmured Songbird and then continued:
"The lonely waters washed the lonely shore,Where they had washed full many a moon before,I listened pensively—not a soundWas there to break the tomblike silence all around!"
"Great mackerel, Songbird!" cried Fred. "Don't go on like that. It's enough to give a fellow the creeps!" But the would-be poet only continued:
"I listened for a single bird,But not a note my ear there heard,I looked up in the calm, clear sky—"
"And nervous enough was I to fly!" finished Fred, and went on:"Songbird, if you've got to make up poetry give us something cheerful.Can't you make up something about—er—about circus clowns, or applepie, or—er—"
"Circus clowns or apple pie!" snorted the would-be poet, in deep disgust. "Well, you are the limit, Fred Garrison. No, I can't make up poetry about circus pie or apple clo—I mean apple clowns or circus, pshaw, you know what I mean—"
"I didn't mention mixed pickles," observed Fred, demurely. "But if you can mix—What's that?"
He stopped short and straightened up on the launch seat, and so didSongbird. Both had heard voices at a distance.
"They must be coming back," said Songbird. "It didn't take them long."
They listened, and set up a call, but no answer came back. Then they looked around searchingly.
"That's funny," murmured Fred.
"I don't think it's funny," was the low answer. "Something is wrong."
"Help! My foot is caught!" came presently, in a muffled voice. "Hello, the launch! Help me somebody, quick!"
"Who is that calling?" asked Songbird.
"Somebody of our crowd and in trouble," answered Fred, and leaped ashore with Songbird at his heels.
The call had come from a thicket about a hundred feet away, and in that direction dashed the two unsuspecting youths, never dreaming of the plan laid to trap them. As they ran into the thicket four persons came behind them, and in a trice each was thrown violently forward on the ground and held there.
"Wha—what does this mean?" gasped Fred, as soon as he could get his breath.
"It means that you are prisoners," came in the voice of Gasper Pold."Keep quiet now, it will be best for you."
"Blindfold 'em and be quick about it," came in a low tone from one of the others of the party.
"Dan Baxter!" exclaimed Songbird, recognizing that voice. "Is it possible! I thought you died in the swamp!"
"Hang the luck!" muttered the former bully of Putnam Hall. "I didn't want them to know I was here."
By this time the two boys had had their hands tied behind them. Then they were allowed to rise.
"Don't you make a noise, if you value your lives," came from another of the men, and to their surprise they saw that it was Sack Todd, one of the head counterfeiters of Red Rock ranch and the only man who had escaped from the authorities at the time the noted gang was rounded up. How slick an individual this chap was those who have read "The Rover Boys on the Plains" already know.
The boys now saw that the fourth person who had attacked them and made them prisoners was the carpenter Solly Jackson. The fellow took small part in the proceedings and was apparently under the thumb of Gasper Pold.
"What is the meaning of this outrage?" asked Songbird.
"You'll find out quick enough," answered Dan Baxter, with a chuckle. "So you thought I perished in the swamp, eh? Ha! ha! I thought I'd fool you!"
"Did you get away with Sack Todd?" asked Fred.
"Not exactly—but we soon met—after that fight was over—and here we are, to fix you for interfering with our business," went on the big bully.
"Look here, Baxter, we can't stop to talk now," broke in Gasper Pold. "Those other fellows will be back soon. We've got to make the best possible use of our time."
"Tie 'em to the trees," said Sack Todd. "Quick now, and then we'll be off. You say you can run the launch?" he asked, turning to the former bully of Putnam Hall.
"Sure I can—used to do that sort of thing at home, years ago," replied Dan Baxter.
Without ceremony Fred and Songbird were tied fast to two trees near by, the ropes being passed from their wrists directly around each tree. Then the men and Baxter departed, taking with them several heavy bundles which they had been carrying.
"That stuff they have must be from the houseboat," said Fred, when he and Songbird were left alone in the forest. "They are going to run off with it on the launch!"
"I reckon you are right." Songbird gave a groan. "Gosh! they tied my wrists together so tightly the blood won't circulate!"
"They are first-class rascals, and Dan Baxter is as bad as any of them," was the answer. "Isn't it strange that he should escape from that swamp, and after losing his horse, too!"
After that the two prisoners listened intently and soon heard the putt-putt of the gasoline launch, as the power was turned on. Gradually the sound grew fainter and fainter.
"They are off!" sighed Fred. "Perhaps now we'll never see the launch again!"
"This will make Harold Bird angry, Fred. First his pet dog and now his new launch. He'll want to land those rascals in jail just as much as we do."
Half an hour went by—the young prisoners thought it must be four times that long,—and still nobody came near them. Each tried to free himself from his bonds, but without avail. Fred cut one wrist and Songbird scraped off the skin and that was all.
"It's no use," sighed the would-be poet. "We'll have to stay here till the others get back."
"What fools we were to be deceived into thinking one of our party was in trouble! I thought that cry for help didn't seem just right. We walked right into the trap."
"I was afraid—My gracious me! Look!"
At this exclamation both boys looked into the forest they were facing and there they saw a sight that almost made the blood freeze in their veins. Crouching down between some bushes was a bob cat larger than either of those that had been killed the night before.
"Oh!" cried Songbird. "Scat!"
At the cry the bob cat turned and disappeared into the bushes like a flash. But then they heard it leap into a tree, and the rustling of the branches told them only too plainly that it was approaching closer and closer.
"This is—is awful!" groaned Fred. "It will surely pounce down and tear us to pieces. Help! help, somebody! Help!"
Songbird joined in the cry and the forest rang loudly with the sounds of their voices. Then they stopped to get their breath.
"I see him—he is almost over our heads!" gasped Songbird. "Help!Help!" he yelled, at the top of his lungs.
"What's the trouble?" came from close at hand, and Dick Rover burst into view, with Tom and Sam at his heels and each with his revolver drawn. Not far behind were Hans and Harold Bird.
"A bob cat! Look out for him!" cried Fred.
"Protect us!" put in Songbird. "We are helpless!"
"See, they are tied to the trees!" exclaimed Tom. "What does this mean?"
"I see the bob cat!" said Sam Rover, and without ado fired up into the tree. Down came the beast, spitting viciously and clawing the air, to fall at Tom's feet. Bang! went Tom's pistol and then all of the others fired, and almost as quick as I can tell it the beast lay dead where it had fallen. Then the boys looked around for other bob cats, but none showed themselves.
"Oh, how thankful I am that you came," said Fred, as he was being released.
"And you didn't arrive a minute too soon either," said Songbird."That bob cat was getting ready to spring on us! It was a narrow escape!"
"Who made you prisoners?" asked Dick. "But I suppose it was thatGasper Pold and his tools."
"Yes, and who do you think his tools are?" answered Fred.—"SollyJackson, Sack Todd—"
"Sack Todd!" exclaimed Sam.
"Yes, and Dan Baxter."
"Baxter!" came from the others.
"The young rascal you told me about?" said Harold Bird.
"Exactly, and all of them have run away with your launch," put inSongbird. "They went quite a while ago."
"I was afraid of it," answered the young Southerner. "Of course they must have steered for Lake Sico."
"Yes, and as they have had a good start, they must be a long way off by now," added Tom.
The whole party walked down to where the launch had been tied up, and Fred and Songbird told their story and then heard of what had happened to the houseboat.
"What rascals!" murmured Fred. "We must do our level best to catch them."
"I am going to catch them, if I have to follow them a thousand miles!" exclaimed Harold Bird, impulsively.
"That's the talk!" came from Dick. "We are bound to catch them sooner or later, if we stick to the chase."
Yet, though he spoke so hopefully, the outlook just then was dismal enough. The gasoline launch had a good start, and they had nothing at hand with which to follow the craft and those on board.
"I'd hate to see the launch wrecked," said Tom. "But I'd like to see those fellows blow themselves up!"
"Well, in that case I could almost stand the loss of the boat," answered the young Southerner, with a faint smile.
They sat down and talked the matter over for quarter of an hour, Fred and Songbird in the meantime bathing their wrists and having them bound up with handkerchiefs. Not only was the launch gone, but their food also.
"I saw a few things left on theDora," said Dick; "canned stuff and like that, which they forgot to take or ruin. That will give us something to eat."
"We might find a trail out of the swamp to some plantation," suggested Harold Bird, "but that would take time, and I think we ought to be following the launch."
"How?" asked Fred.
"Ve can't schwim," put in Hans.
"Go back for the houseboat and follow them in that. It will be slow, but it will likewise be sure."
"We'll do it," answered Dick.
This time all set out for the houseboat. They followed the first trail that had been taken and, remembering the bad spots, covered the distance without serious mishap. By this time all were hungry, and while Hans and Fred set to work to make a fire in the cook stove and prepare the best meal possible under the circumstances, the others turned the houseboat down the inlet and out into the small lake. It was hard work poling the big craft along, but once in the little lake they were delighted to find that the current was fairly strong towards the big lake and the Mississippi. They used both poles and sweeps and worked like Trojans.
"Dinner is ready!" called Fred at last, and one after another took a seat and ate the canned corn, tomatoes, and salmon which had been made ready. They also had a few crackers and a pot of rather weak coffee, but they were sincerely thankful that matters were not worse.
"The worst of it is, we are not the only sufferers," said Dick to Harold Bird. "The ladies and the girls who have been traveling with us have lost all their valuables—that is, such things as happened to be left on theDora. Just what is missing they will have to tell us."
"Well, as I said before, I shall do all in my power to bring them to justice. I should think you'd be more than anxious to have this Dan Baxter locked up."
"Yes."
"You say he has been your enemy for years?"
"Yes. When my brothers and I started to go to a boarding school called Putnam Hall, in New York State, we ran across this Baxter. He was annoying Miss Stanhope and her two cousins, Grace and Nellie. We had a row then and there, and ever since that time he has been our bitter enemy and has tried, in a thousand ways, to make trouble for us. Not only that, but his father was a bitter enemy of my father and was locked up. But strange to say, Arnold Baxter has reformed, while Dan seems to go from bad to worse."
"Then you don't think Dan will reform?"
"Hardly. If he does, it will be the surprise of my life," answered the eldest Rover.
The meal, slim as it was, put all on board the houseboat in better humor, and as he washed the dishes Hans hummed a little German ditty to himself. Soon the small lake was left behind, and they found themselves skirting the upper shore of Lake Sico. Nothing was in sight on the broad bosom of this body of water.
"Can the launch be in hiding in some cove?" asked Sam. "We don't want any more tricks played on us."
"It is possible," answered Harold Bird. "Still I think our wisest course will be to get to the river as soon as possible. If the launch has passed out we may find somebody who has seen her."
All worked with vigor, and by nightfall they gained the bayou leading to the mighty river beyond. As they came out they saw a lumber barge tied up not far away.
"Ahoy there!" shouted Dick, using his hands for a speaking trumpet.
"Ahoy!" came the answering shout, from a man on the barge.
"Have you seen anything of a gasoline launch around here?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"About an hour ago."
"Coming from the bayou?"
"Yes."
"Which way did she head?"
"Down the river."
"Are you sure of that, Dillard?" called out Harold Bird.
"Hullo, Mr. Bird, that you?"
"I say, are you sure the launch went down the river?"
"Positive, sir—we watched her out of sight. Was she your boat?"
"She was."
"Stolen?"
"Yes."
"You don't say so! Hope you get her back."
"Who was on board?"
"Four men, so far as we could see. We weren't very close to her."
"We are on the right trail!" cried Tom. "Now the question is, How can we follow her down the river?"
"On the houseboat, of course," answered his elder brother. "If we stop to do anything else we'll lose too much time."
"But that launch can run away from us."
"Perhaps, but you must remember that they'll have to be cautious, because the craft is strange to them. They won't dare to run full speed for fear of blowing up or of striking a snag."
"I vish da struck a hundred of dem snags alretty!" cried Hans.
"Then again, they may tie up as soon as they think they can leave the river with safety. I think we can follow in the houseboat as well as in anything."
"Yes, let us stick to the houseboat," came from the young Southerner."But wait, pole her over to the barge. Perhaps we can buy some food."
"Yes, let us get food by all means," added Sam.
They were soon beside the lumber barge, which had a comfortable cabin and sleeping quarters. As Harold Bird knew the owner well, there was little difficulty in obtaining provisions and at a reasonable price. Then off those on theDorapushed, and soon the current of the broad Mississippi carried them out of sight down the stream.
"We must keep a good lookout," said Dick, as night came on. "We don't want to miss them in the dark."
"And we don't want to run into anything either," added Sam.
"Dis ain't kvite der life on der oceans vaves vot I like," observedHans. "I dink me after all a sail ship oder a steamer been besser, hey?"
"Yes, a sailboat or a steamer would be better just now," answered Tom. "But we have got to put up with what we happen to have, as the dog said who got lockjaw from swallowing a bunch of keys."
"Did dot dog git dot lockjaw from dem keys?" asked Hans, innocently.
"Sure he did, Hans. You see, they didn't fit the lock to his stomach, so he couldn't digest them."
"Poor dog, vot vos his name?"
"Why, his name was—er—Picker,—but he couldn't pick the lock, so he died."
"Is he teat yet?"
"Is he dead—Say, Hans, what do you mean?"
"Oh, it ton't madder," answered the German boy, and walked away, leaving Tom wondering if the joke had been turned on him or not.
On and on swept the houseboat over the broad bosom of the Mississippi. Fortunately for our friends, it proved a clear night, with countless stars bespangling the heavens.—They had managed to find two lanterns fit for use and each was lit and placed in position. Most of the boys remained on the forward deck, watching anxiously. Dick was at the rudder, steering as Harold Bird directed.
It was not long before something dark loomed up along shore and they knew they had struck one of the numerous levees, or artificial banks, along the Mississippi, put there to prevent the country from being inundated during the freshets. The levee was very high and looked strong enough to withstand almost any pressure that could be brought to bear against it.
"And yet they sometimes give way and cause a terrible amount of drainage," said Harold Bird, in reply to Sam's question. "I have seen the river spread out for miles, and houses and barns carried off to nobody knew where over night."
"Well, I don't think the launch would tie up at the levee, do you?"
"It is not likely. I have an idea those fellows will try to get down to New Orleans."
After that an hour passed without anything unusual happening. Twice they passed river steamboats, one of them sweeping quite close to the houseboat.
"Why don't you put out more lights—want to be run down?" came the cry.
"Haven't any more lights," answered Tom, and then the two boats swept apart, so no more could be said.
A mile more was passed when Fred set up a cry:
"I see a light ahead, flashing from side to side," he said, and pointed it out.
"It is the acetylene gas lamp," ejaculated Harold Bird, "and it must be aboard of the launch!"
All of those on board of the houseboat watched the flashing light with keen interest. That it came from the gasoline launch none of them doubted.
"If we can only catch up to them," said Tom. "And do it on the sly!"
"We want to be on guard—they may be ready to do some shooting," returned Sam.
"Does you dink da vill shoot?" inquired Hans, anxiously.
"I don't think they will kill more than three or four of us," answeredTom, by way of a joke.
"Vat?" screamed Hans. "Not me, by chiminatics! I ton't vos vant to been shot dree oder seven dimes alretty!"
"I doubt if they'll do any shooting," answered Harold Bird.
"I can't believe that," said Dick, with a shake of his head. "That Sack Todd is a bad one, and Baxter can be very wicked at times. We certainly want to be on guard against any underhanded work."
The launch had been running somewhat across the river, but was now headed straight down the Mississippi.
"We don't seem to be gaining," said Fred, after a silence of several minutes. "It appears to be just as far ahead as when we first saw it."
"We are certainly not gaining much," answered the young Southerner."But I think we are gaining a little."
Harold Bird was right, they were gaining probably one rod in twenty. Thus, in a little over half an hour, they saw that the launch was almost within hailing distance. The acetylene gas light was thrown ahead and to the right and left, and lit up the surface of the river for a considerable distance. Against the rays of the lamp they could make out four persons in the launch.
"They must be the four we are after," said Dick. "I wish they would turn into shore, at some town. Then we'd have an easier time of it, rounding them up."
"I have an idea!" cried Sam. "Why not follow them until they do land somewhere and go to sleep? We'll have a better chance to capture all of them than in a fight out here. Here, if we get into a row, somebody may fall overboard and be drowned."
"Yes, let us follow them until they stop somewhere," came from Songbird, who had no desire to fight out there on the bosom of the swiftly-flowing Mississippi.
This decided on, they did not attempt to catch up to the launch, but, getting near enough to keep the craft in plain view, held back just a trifle.
"Do you suppose they see us?" asked Fred.
"They may see the houseboat, but they don't know what craft it is, or who is on board," answered Dick.
Presently the launch stopped running and merely drifted with the current. Those in the houseboat saw the gas lamp turned toward the shore.
"I think they are making preparations to land," said Harold Bird.
A moment later the acetylene lamp was turned back and the sharp rays fell full upon theDoraand those on the forward deck.
"Hi! There is the houseboat!" cried Dan Baxter, who was following the rays of light with his eyes.
"That's so!" returned Gasper Pold. "They must be following us!"
"How did they do it so quickly?" questioned Solly Jackson.
"That's a puzzle, but it certainly is the houseboat, and there are three or four of the crowd on board," said Sack Todd.
Those on the launch were amazed to think they had been followed so quickly and for the moment knew not what to do. Then Sack Todd drew his pistol.
"Hi, there!" he yelled. "Keep your distance, if you know when you are well off!"
"They know us right enough," murmured Tom. "And they mean to fight!"
"Go ahead,—we can't afford to land around here!" said Gasper Pold, to Baxter, who had been running the motor of the launch. And soon the power was turned on and the launch started down the river faster than ever.
"They are running away from us!" ejaculated Dick. "Oh, what luck!"
"Stop!" yelled Sam. "Stop, or we'll fire at you!"
"That's the talk," said Harold Bird.
"If you do any firing, so will we!" came back from one of the persons on theVenus.
Then of a sudden the acetylene gas lamp was either turned off or its rays were hidden, for the launch was almost lost in the darkness of the night.
"They were trying to hide," said Fred. "And it looks as if they would succeed," he added, as the launch seemed to fade utterly from view.
"If we only had that gas lamp,—to keep them in view!" sighed Sam.
"Are you certain there is nothing of the kind on board?" questionedSongbird. "Didn't you buy some rockets when we stopped at—"
"Sure I did!" shouted Dick. "Just the thing—if they are still on board. And they may be—for I put them in a closet we don't often use."
Dick started on a hunt and soon put in an appearance with several rockets, such as are generally used on a ship as a signal of distress.
"They'll be good in more ways than one," said Tom. "They will keep those rascals in sight and also let folks know that we need help."
"Py golly! Ve vill haf a regular Fourth of Chuly, hey?" came from Hans.
A rocket was placed in position at the bow end of the houseboat and the eldest Rover touched it off. It sizzed for an instant and then shot forward over the water in the direction of the gasoline launch, making the scene light for the time being. It came down just over theVenus'bow.
"Hi! stop that, or we'll fire at you!" came from the launch, and then a pistol rang out and the ball whistled over the deck of theDora.
"Are they really shooting at us?" asked Songbird, nervously, whileHans sought the shelter of the cabin in a hurry.
"I reckon not," answered Harold Bird. "That was simply meant as a warning."
Those on the houseboat waited for several minutes and then, imagining the launch was turning to the shore, Dick prepared another rocket.
"Get behind the woodwork," he said. "They may take it into their heads to aim at us when this goes up."
All sheltered themselves and with a rush the second rocket flew skyward. It had not been aimed at the launch, yet it cut the water within a yard of theVenus'side, much to the alarm of those on board.
"They are trying to shoot us with rockets!" yelled Dan Baxter.
"Take that!" said Sack Todd, and fired point-blank at the houseboat. The bullet hit a pane of glass in the cabin window, and there was a jingle followed by a yell from Hans.
"Sthop dot! Ton't kill me! I ain't vos tone noddings alretty! Of you schoot me again I vos haf you but in prison for a hundred years, ain't it!"
"Are you hit, Hans?" questioned Dick, running to the German boy.
"Putty near, Dick. Dot pullet knocked owit der glass chust ven I vos going to look owit!"
"They have hit on something!" came from Harold Bird, who had remained outside, behind a barrel.
"Hit?" queried Sam.
"Yes, they are stuck fast, and we are drifting right on top of them!"
The news proved true, the launch had gotten caught on a sunken tree trunk and was helpless on the bosom of the river, the propeller whirling madly. The houseboat was less than two hundred feet away and coming forward as swiftly as the current could carry her.
"Look out! Don't smash us—we are stuck!" yelled Dan Baxter.
"Sheer off!" came from Solly Jackson. "Sheer off, or we'll all be wrecked!"
It was a position of unexpected and extreme peril, and those on the houseboat realized it as well as those on the launch. Yet what to do our friends did not exactly know.
"Out with the sweeps—on this side!" called out Dick, and ran for the biggest sweep he could find. "Jam over the rudder!" he called to Songbird, who was at the tiller.
The rudder went over in a jiffy and out went three long sweeps. This served to swing the houseboat over several points, but not enough to take her entirely out of the course of the launch.
"We are going to hit as sure as fate!" cried Sam.
"Yes, and we may all go to the bottom," answered Fred.
It was certainly a moment of intense anxiety, both for those on the launch and on the houseboat, and for the time being the fight between the two factions came to an end. A smash-up out there in that swiftly-flowing current might make it necessary for everybody to swim for his life.
"Can't you back the boat?" asked Sack Todd of Dan Baxter. "We must get out somehow!"
Dan Baxter worked over the motor for a few seconds, and just as the houseboat swung closer started the launch backwards. All expected a crash, but it did not come.
"TheDorais stuck!" called out Dick. "We have hit something under water!"
The eldest Rover was right, and slowly the houseboat began to swing around. In the meantime the launch backed away, made a half-circle, and began to move again down the Mississippi.
"They are loose!" called out Sam.
"Yes, and we are fast," answered Harold Bird. "But I am rather glad we didn't run into the launch and smash her completely."
The moving of the launch had caused the sunken tree trunk to turn partly over, and in this position two immense limbs caught theDoratightly so that, although the houseboat swung broadside to the current, she could get no further.
"They are getting away from us!" cried Tom, as theVenusdisappeared from view.
"Don't you dare to follow us any further," called out a voice from the darkness. "If you do, it will be at your peril!"
"It doesn't look as if we were going to follow them right away." grumbled Tom.
"Vos dose rascallions gone alretty?" questioned Hans, coming cautiously from the cabin.
"Yes."
"Dot's goot!"
The lanterns were lowered over the side of the houseboat, and after several minutes of inspection our friends located the source of the trouble.
"If we had the power to back away from that tree we'd be all right," observed Dick. "But as we haven't such power I do not know what we are going to do."
"Maybe we'll have to wait until morning," said Tom. "Then some passing boat can pull us away."
"And in the meantime those rascals will have a good chance to outwit us," said Sam, bitterly. "It's a shame!"
"Let us try to get the sweeps between the tree limbs and the houseboat," suggested Harold Bird. "Perhaps we can thus pry ourselves loose."
All were willing to try the plan, and while the young Southerner took one sweep Dick took another, with Sam and Tom to help them.
It was no easy matter to get the sweeps into position, for there was danger of one or another slipping overboard. To protect themselves each of the workers wound a rope around his waist and made the end fast to a stanchion.
"Now then, all together!" cried Dick, when the sweeps were finally in proper position, and they strained with all their might. Then came a crack, as one sweep broke, and Harold Bird and Sam were hurled flat on their backs on the deck.
"Never mind, better luck next time," said Songbird, as he brought another sweep forward.
They adjusted the new sweep with care and pulled on it gradually. At first the houseboat refused to budge, but presently it swung around a little and then more and more.
"Hurrah! we are getting her!" yelled Tom. "Now then, all together, as the tomcat said to the boy's with the brickbats."
They strained and the houseboat came loose, but alas! at that moment both sweeps slipped and slowly but surely theDoraswung into her former position and became jammed tighter than before.
"Another failure," sighed Dick.
"I'm about out of breath," said Sam, with a gasp.
"Let me try it," said Fred, and he, Hans, and Songbird set to work, with the others helping. But it was of no avail, the houseboat could not be moved sufficiently to clear herself of the sunken tree trunk with its immense limbs.
"Well, there is one thing to be thankful for," said Dick, as they rested from their labors. "That trunk might have gone through our sides or bottom and sunk us."
During the next hour two steamboats passed them, but not near enough to be asked for help. They cleaned their lanterns and hung them high up, so as to avoid a collision.
"It's queer that no craft came out to learn why the rockets were sent up," said Dick.
"Perhaps they thought some celebration was going on," answered HaroldBird.
"It's nearly two o'clock and I am dead tired," announced Tom. "Any objections to my going to sleep?"
"Not if you can get to sleep," answered his older brother.
"Half of us might as well turn in, while the other half remain on guard," said Sam, and so it was arranged. Two hours later the guard was changed, so that all got some much-needed rest, although a sound sleep was out of the question.
With the coming of morning the youths looked around eagerly for some craft to give them assistance. Yet it was a good hour before a steamboat came down the river and stopped at their call.
"What's wanted?"
"We want to be towed down the river," said Dick. "We'll pay you for the job."
"Are you stuck?"
"Yes, but you can easily pull us back and out."
"Where do you want to go?"
Those on the houseboat had already talked the matter over and decided to move on at least as far as Baraville, about twenty miles from New Orleans. Dick had once heard Sack Todd speak of the place and knew the man was acquainted there, and had also heard Solly Jackson say he had once lived in that locality.
"I'll tow you to Baraville if you wish it," said the captain of the small steamboat. "It will cost you ten dollars."
"All right, but get there as fast as you can," answered Dick. "We are in a big hurry."
A line was thrown out and made fast, and in a few minutes the houseboat was freed from the sunken tree. Then steamboat and houseboat swung around and the journey to Baraville was begun. It did not take long, and by half-past ten o'clock theDorawas tied up at the town levee, much to the astonishment of many colored folks who had never seen such a craft.
The Rovers' first movement was to ask if the launch had stopped there, and from a colored riverman they learned that theVenushad come in very early in the morning and had left again after those on board had gotten breakfast and a box of things—what the negro did not know.
"I heah dem folks talk erbout New Orleans," said the colored man. "I dun 'spect da gone dat way fo' certainly, I do!"
"Did you see the launch leave?" asked Sam.
"I suah did—an' a mighty po'erful smell dat boat did leab behind it!"
"That was the gasoline," said Fred, laughing.
"I 'spect it was, yes, sah," answered the colored man.
"If they went to New Orleans then we ought to go too—and be quick about it," said Dick.
"Don't you want to send some word to the ladies and the girls first?" asked Harold Bird.
"To be sure. We can send a telegram for all, and then send letters, too."
This was done, and the ladies and girls were told not to be alarmed—that all were satisfied everything would come out right in the end.
"No use of worrying them," said Tom. "They can worry after all the trouble is over," and at this quaint remark the others had to smile.
How to get down the river was at first a problem, but it was soon settled by Dick and Harold Bird. It was decided to leave the houseboat in the care of a trustworthy person at Baraville and then charter the small steamboat for the trip to New Orleans. As the captain wanted to go down the river anyway he made the charge for the charter very small, and before noon the craft was on her journey.
Fortunately for our friends the weather remained fine, and had they not been worried over the outcome of what was before them, they would have enjoyed the brief trip on the small steamboat very much. The captain had heard of the capture of the counterfeiters and was surprised to learn that the Rover boys had been the ones to aid in the round-up.
"You've got courage," said he. "I admire what you did. But if I were you I'd fight shy of that Sack Todd. He'll certainly have it in for you, for having broken up that gang."
"I only want to lay my hands on him, that's all," answered Dick. "I am not afraid of him."
"And that Gasper Pold is a bad one too," went on the captain. "I heard about him down in New Orleans. He cheated a lot of people with lottery tickets and policy-playing once, and they got after him hot-footed, and he had to clear out and lay low for awhile."
"Well, in one way the folks who are foolish enough to invest in lottery tickets or play policy deserve to lose their money," put in Sam.
"You are right, lad,—gambling is nothing short of a curse and nobody ought to stand for it. Why, on this very river men have been ruined by gambling, and some have committed suicide and others have become murderers, all because of cards—and drink. One is as bad as the other, and both as bad as can be."
"Of course they don't gamble as they used to," came from Harold Bird."The times have changed a great deal for the better."