Dick found that he could remain on the deck only with the greatest of difficulty. Several life lines had been stretched around and he clung to one of these.
"What has happened?" he asked of one of the sailors. "What did we strike?"
"Struck a small boat," was the answer. "It had a colored man in it. We've just hauled the fellow on deck."
"Is he all right?"
"No; he's about half dead. But the captain thinks he may get over it, with care," and the sailor hurried away.
Dick now saw several men approaching, carrying the form of the rescued one between them. He looked at the unconscious man and gave a cry of amazement.
"Alexander Pop! What a strange happening!"
"Do you know the man?" questioned Captain Cambion.
"I know him very well," answered Dick. "He used to work at the military academy where my brothers and I were cadets." And the boy told Captain Cambion the particulars of Alexander Pop's disappearance from Putnam Hall. "I am glad that I will be able to tell him that his innocence is established," he concluded.
"All providing we are able to bring him around to himself, MasterRover," returned the captain gravely.
"You think, then, that he is in bad shape?"
"I hardly know what to think. We will take him below and do all we can for him."
It was no easy matter to transfer Pop to one of the lower staterooms, but once placed on a soft berth the Rovers did all they could for him.
"It is like a romance," said Sam, while Randolph Rover was administering some medicine to the unconscious man. "How thin he looks."
"He's been suffering from starvation," put in Dick. "I suppose he gave that yell we heard with his last breath."
All of the party watched over the colored man with tender care, and feeling that he could be in no better hands the captain left him entirely in his friends' charge. "When he comes to his senses you can let me know," he said.
Dick was watching by Pop's side, and Tom was at the foot of the berth, when the colored man opened his eyes. As they rested on first one Rover and then the other he stared in utter astonishment.
"My gracious sakes alive!" he gasped. "Am I dreamin', or am I back to Putnam Hall again?"
"Neither, Aleck," replied Dick. "You are safe on board an ocean steamer."
"An' yo'—whar yo' dun come from?"
"We are passengers on the steamer," said Tom. "You were picked up several hours ago."
"Yes, but—but I can't undersand dis nohow!" persisted the colored man, and tried to sit up, only to fall back exhausted.
"Don't try to understand it, Aleck, until you are stronger," saidDick. "Would you like some hot soup?"
"Anyt'ing, sah, anyt'ing! Why, I aint had, no reg'lar meal in most a week!" moaned the sufferer. "Glory to Heaben dat I am sabed!"
And then he said no more for quite a long, while.
The soup was already at hand, and it was Dick who fed it slowly and carefully, seeing to it that Pop should have no more than his enfeebled stomach could take care of, for overfeeding, so Mr. Rover had said, might kill the man.
The next day Pop was able to sit up, although still too weak to stand on his legs. He was continually praising Heaven for his safety.
"I dun Vink I was a goner more dan once," he said. "I was on de ocean all alone about a week, I reckon, although I lost time ob days after I'd been out two or Vree nights. I Vink I was most crazy."
"Perhaps you were, Aleck," said Sam. "But tell us how you got in that position."
"Dat am de queerest part ob it, Master Rober—de queerest part of it. I got into de small boat fo' a sleep, and de fust Ving I knowed I was miles an' miles away from eberyt'ing; yes, sah-miles an' miles away on de boundless ocean, an' not so much as a fishin' smack sail in sight. Golly, but wasn't I scared—I reckon I dun most turn white!" And Aleck rolled his eyes around impressively.
"You were in a small boat attached to some steamer?"
"Dat's it. Da had been usin' de small boat fo' surnt'ing, and left her overboard."
"Were you cut adrift?"
"I don't tink I was—but I aint shuah nohow."
"What boat was it?"
"De Harrison, from Brooklyn, bound to Cuba."
"Did you ship on her after you left Putnam Hall in such a hurry?
"I did, cos I didn't want de police to coted me. But, say, as true as I stand heah—mean sit heah—I aint guilty of stealin' dem watches an' t'ings, no I aint!"
And Aleck raised both hands earnestly. "Captain Putnam made a great mistake when he dun suspect me."
"We know it," answered Dick quietly. "We thought you innocent all along, Aleck."
"T'ank yo' fo' dat, Master Rober—I'se glad to see dat I'se got one friend—"
"Three friends, Aleck—we all stood up for you," interruptedTom.
"T'ank yo', t'ank yo'!"
"And we discovered who the real thief was," added Sam.
"Wot, yo' dun found, dat out!" burst out Pop. "An' who was de black-hearted rascal?"
"Jim Caven."
"Dat cadet wot tried to be funny wid me an' I had to show him his place? Hol' on—I dun see him comin' from de attic one day."
"When he must have put those stolen articles in your trunk," said Tom. "Yes, he was guilty, Captain Putnam was going to have him arrested, but he got away."
Nothing would do for Alexander Pop after this but that the boys give him the full particulars of the affair, to which he listened with the closest attention. But at the conclusion his face fell.
"Ise mighty glad I am cleared," he said. "But I'd give a good deal to face de cap'n—jest to see wot he would say, eh?"
"He said he was sorry he had suspected you," said Dick.
"What a big fool dis darkey was to run away!" murmured Aleck meditatively. "I wasn't cut out fo' no sailer man. Ise been sick most ebery day since I left shoah. By de way, whar is dis ship bound?" he went on.
"To Africa."
"Africa! Shuah yo' is foolin', Massah Dick?"
"No, I am not. We and our uncle are bound for the Congo River."
"De Congo! Dat's whar my great gran' fadder dun come from—so I heard my mammy tell, years ago. I don't want to go dar, not me!"
"I don't see how you are going to help yourself, Aleck. The first stop this steamer will make will be at Boma on the Congo River."
"'Wot am I to do when I gits dar? answer me dat, chile."
"I'm sure I don't know. Perhaps the captain will let you remain on the Republique."
"What wid dern Frenchmen? I don't t'ink I could stand dat. An' what am yo' going to do in Africa?"
"We are going on a hunt for my father, who has been missing for years."
Again Aleck had to be told the particulars and again he was tremendously interested. When the boys had finished he sat in silence for several minutes.
"I've got it-jest de t'ing!" he cried suddenly.
"Got what?" asked Tom.
"De right idea, Massah Tom. Foah gen'men like yo' don't want to go to Africa widout a valet nohow. Let me be de workin' man fe de crowd. I'll take de job, cheap,—an' glad ob de chance."
"Hullo, that's an idea!" mused Dick.
"Will yo' do it, Massah Dick?"
"We'll have to speak to my uncle about it first."
"Well, yo' put in a good word fo' me. Yo know I always stood by yo' in de school," pleaded the colored man. "I don't want to be driftin' around jess nowhar, wid nuffin to do, an' no money comin' in—not but what I'll work cheap, as I dun said I would," he added hastily.
A little later Randolph Rover joined the group and Aleck's proposition was laid before him. Strange to say he accepted the colored man's offer immediately, greatly to the wonder of the boys, and from that minute on Pop be came a member of the searching party.
"I will tell you why I did it," explained Randolph Rover to the boys in private. "When we get into the jungle we will need a man we can trust and one who is used to American ways. Moreover, if there is any spying to be done among the natives the chances are that a black man can do it better than a white man."
"Uncle Randolph, you've got a long head," remarked Tom. "No doubt Aleck will prove just the fellow desired." And Tom was right, as later events proved.
The storm delayed the passage of the Republique nearly a week, in a manner that was totally unexpected by the captain. The fierce waves, running mountain high, wrenched the screw and it was found next to impossible to repair the accident. Consequently the steamer had to proceed under a decreased rate of speed.
This was tantalizing to the boys, and also to Randolph Rover, for everyone wished to get ashore, to start up the Congo as early as possible. But all the chafing in the world could not help matters, and they were forced to take things as they came.
A place was found among the sailors for Aleck, and soon he began to feel like himself once more. But the sea did not suit the colored man, and he was as anxious as his masters to reach shore once more.
"It's a pity da can't build a mighty bridge over de ocean, an' run kyars," he said. "Den nobody would git seasick."
"Perhaps they'll have a bridge some day resting on boats, Aleck," answered Tom.
"But I don't expect to live to see it."
"Yo' don't know about dat, chile. Look at uddert'ings. Did yo'gran'fadder expect to ride at de rate ob sixty miles an hour? Did he expect to send a telegram to San Francisco in a couple ob minutes? Did he eber dream ob talkin' to sumboddy in Chicago froo a telephone? Did he knew anyt'ing about electric lights, or movin' pictures, or carriages wot aint got no bosses, but run wid gasoline or sumfing like dat? I tell yo, Massah Tom, we don't know wot we is comin' to!"
"You are quite right, Alexander," said Mr. Rover, who had overheard the talk. "Science is making wonderful strides. Some day I expect to grow com and wheat, yes, potatoes and other vegetables, by electricity," and then Randolph Rover branched off into a long discourse on scientific farming that almost took away poor Aleck's breath.
"He's a most wonderful man, yo' uncle!" whispered the colored man to Sam afterward. "Fust t'ing yo' know he'll be growin' corn in de com crib already shucked!" and he laughed softly to himself.
On and on over the mighty Atlantic bounded the steamer. One day was very much like another, excepting that on Sundays there was a religious service, which nearly everybody attended. The boys had become quite attached to Mortimer Blaze and listened eagerly to the many hunting tales he had to tell.
"I wish you were going with us," said Tom to him. "I like your style, as you Englishman put it."
"Thanks, Rover, and I must say I cotton to you, as the Americans put it," laughed the hunter. "Well, perhaps we'll meet in the interior, who knows?"
"Are you going up the Congo?"
"I haven't decided yet. I am hoping to meet some friends at Boma.Otherwise I may go further down the coast."
The steamer bad now struck the equator, and as it was midsummer the weather was extremely warm, and the smell of the oozing tar, pouring from every joint, was sickening. But the weather suited Alexander Pop perfectly.
"Dis am jest right," he said. "I could sleep eall de time, 'ceptin' when de meal gong rings."
"Blood will tell," laughed Randolph Rover. "When you land,Alexander, you ought to feel perfectly at home."
"Perhaps, sah; but I dun reckon de United States am good enough for any man, sah, white or colored."
"Right you are," put in Dick. "It's the greatest country on the globe."
It was a clear day a week later when the lookout announced land dead ahead. It proved to be a point fifteen miles above the mouth of the Congo, and at once the course was altered to the southward, and they made the immense mouth of the river before nightfall.
It was a beautiful scene. Far away dashed the waves against an immense golden strand, backed up by gigantic forests of tropical growth and distant mountains veiled in a bluish mist: The river was so broad that they were scarcely aware that they were entering its mouth until the captain told them.
When night came the lights of Boma could be distinctly seen, twinkling silently over the bay of the town. They dropped anchor among a score of other vessels; and the long ocean trip became a thing of the past.
"I'm all ready to go ashore," said Tom.
"My, but won't it feel good to put foot on land again!"
"Indeed it will!" cried Dick. "The ocean is all well enough, but a fellow doesn't want too much of it."
"And yet I heard one of the French sailors say that he hated the land," put in Sam. "He hadn't set foot on shore for three years. When they reach port he always remains on deck duty until they leave again."
Mortimer Blaze went ashore at once, after bidding all of the party a hearty good-by. "Hope we meet again," he said. "And, anyway, good luck to you!"
"And good luck to you!" cried Tom. "Hope you bag all of the lions and tigers you wish," and so they parted, not to meet again for many a day.
It was decided that the Rovers should not leave the ship until morning. It can well be imagined that none of the boys slept soundly that night. All wondered what was before them, and if they should succeed or fail in their hunt.
"Dis aint much ob a town," remarked Aleck, as they landed, a little before noon, in a hot, gentle shower of rain. "Nuffin like New York."
"There is only one New York, as there is but one London," answered Randolph Rover. "Our architecture would never do for such a hot climate."
Along the river front was a long line of squatty warehouses, backed up by narrow and far from clean streets, where the places of business were huddled together, and where a good share of the trading was done on the sidewalk. The population was a very much mixed one, but of the Europeans the English and French predominated. The natives were short, fat, and exceedingly greasy appearing. Hardly a one of them could speak English.
"I don't see any Americans," remarked Dick. "I suppose—"
"There is an American store!" burst out Sam, pointing across the way. He had discovered a general trading store, the dilapidated sign of which read:
Dealer in Everything.English Spoken by an American.Horn of All Kinds Bought.Yankee Boots Are the Best!
"He believes in advertising," laughed Dick. "I'd like to go in and see Simon Hook. Perhaps he'll remember something about father!" he added suddenly.
"That's an idea!" returned Tom. "Let us go in, Uncle Randolph."
Mr. Rover was willing, and they entered the low and dingy-looking establishment, which was filled with boxes, barrels, and bags of goods.
They found the proprietor sitting in an easy chair, his feet on a desk, and a pipe in his mouth.
"Is this Mr. Hook?" asked Randolph Rover.
"That's me," was the answer; but Mr. Hook did not offer to rise, nor indeed to even shift his position.
"We saw your sign and as we are Americans we thought we would drop in," went on Mr. Rover.
"That's right; glad to see you," came from the man in the chair; but still he did not offer to shift his position.
"Been here many years?" asked Dick.
"About twenty."
"How is business?" put in Tom, bound to say something.
"Aint none, sonny."
"You don't look very busy."
"It's a fool's place to come to, sonny. When these goods are sold I'm going to quit." Mr. Simon Hook paused long enough to take an extra whiff from his pipe. "What brought you here?"
"We are on a hunt for a missing man," answered Randolph Rover. "Did you ever meet him? His name is Anderson Rover, and he is my brother."
"Anderson Rover?" Simon Hook thought for a moment. "I remember him. He was a gold hunter from Californy, or somethin' like that."
"Yes; he was a mine owner."
"Went up the Congo four or five years ago—maybe longer?"
"Yes."
"I remember him. He had lots of money, and took several guides and a number of other, natives along."
"Have you seen or heard of him since?" questioned Dick eagerly.
Simon Hook shook his head. "No, sonny. 'Twasn't to be expected."
"And why not?" put in Tom.
"Because them as goes up the Congo never, comes back. It's a fool's trip among those wild people of the interior. Stanley went up, but look at the big party he took with him and the many fights he had to get back alive."
At this announcement the hearts of the Rover boys fell.
"You never heard one word of him?" persisted Sam.
"Nary a word, sonny. I reckon he's either lost in the jungle or among the mountains, or else the natives have taken care of him."
"Did he say anything about the trail he was going to take?" askedRandolph Rover. "I understand there are several."
"He was going to take the Rumbobo trail, most all of 'em do." Simon Hook drew a long breath. "Say, can I sell you any of these old things of mine cheap?"
"Perhaps you can," said Randolph Rover.
"We are bound for the hotel now. We will come in later."
"Glad to see you," and as they left the shopkeeper waved them a pleasant adieu with his hand. But he never stirred from his chair.
"I guess he has grown tired of trying to sell goods," observedTom.
"Perhaps he knows that if folks want the things he has to sell they are bound to come to him," said Dick. "His store seems to be the only one of its sort around."
The hotel for which they were bound was several squares away, located in something of a park, with pretty flowers and a fountain. It was a two-story affair, with spacious verandas and large rooms, and frequented mostly by English and French people.
They had just entered the office; and Randolph Rover was writing his name in the register, when Dick caught sight of somebody in the reading room that nearly took away his breath.
"Well, I never!"
"What is it, Dick?" asked Tom quickly.
"Look at that boy reading a newspaper. It is Dan Baxter—DanBaxter, just as sure as you are born!"
Dick was right: the boy in the reading-room' was indeed Dan Baxter, but so changed in appearance that for the minute neither Tom nor Sam recognized him.
In the past Baxter had always been used to fine clothing, which he had taken care should be in good repair. Now his clothing was dilapidated and his shoes looked as if they were about ready to fall apart.
More than this, his face was hollow and careworn, and one eye looked as if it had suffered severe blow of some sort. Altogether he was most wretched-looking specimen of humanity, and it was a wonder that he was allowed at the hotel. But the truth of the matter was that he had told the proprietor a long tale of sufferings in the interior and of a delayed remittance from home, and the hotel keeper was keeping him solely on this account.
"How he is changed!" muttered Tom. "He looks like a regular tramp!"
"He's been in hard luck, that's certain," came from Sam. "I wonder how he drifted out here?"
While Sam was speaking Dan Baxter raised his eyes from the newspaper and glanced around. As his gaze fell upon the three Rover boys he started and the paper fell to the floor, then he got up and strode toward them.
"Dick Rover!" he cried. "Where did you fellows come from?"
"From Putnam Hall, Baxter," answered Dick quietly. "And what brought you here?"
Ordinarily Dan Baxter would have retorted that that was none of Dick's business, but now he was in thoroughly low spirits, and he answered meekly:
"I've been playing in hard luck. I went down to New York and one night when I was in a sailors' boarding house I drank more than was good for me, and when I woke up in the morning I found myself on a vessel bound for Africa."
"You were shanghaied as a sailor?" asked Tom.
"That's it, and while I was on board the Costelk the captain and mate treated me worse than a dog. See that eye? The captain did that, and when I struck back he put me in irons and fed me nothing but stale biscuits and water."
"And the ship left you here?"
"No; she was bound for Cape Town, but stopped here for supplies, and I jumped overboard at night and swam ashore, and here I am, and sorry for it," and Dan Baxter drew a long breath.
The Rovers were astonished at his meek manner. Was this really the domineering Baxter, who had always insisted on having his own way, and who had done so many wrong deeds in the past?
"You've had a hard time of it, I suppose? said Dick, hardly knowing how to go on.
"Hard, Dick, aint no word," came from the former bully of Putnam Hall. "I've run up against the worst luck that anybody could ever imagine. But I reckon you don't care about that?"
"Do you think we ought to care, Baxter?"
"Well, it aint fair to take advantage of a chap when he's down on his luck," grumbled the former bully. "I guess I've learnt my lesson all right enough."
"Do you mean to say you are going to turn over a new leaf?" queried Sam with interest.
"Yes, if I ever get the chance."
Randolph Rover now joined the group, and Dick explained the situation. Mr. Rover questioned Baxter closely and found that he was without a cent in his pocket and that the hotel keeper had threatened to put him out if he was not able to pay up inside of the next twenty-four hours.
"See here, Baxter, you never were my friend, and you never deserved any good from me, but I don't like to see a dog suffer," said Dick. "I'll give you thirty shillings, and that will help you along a little," and he drew out his purse.
"And I'll give you the same," came from Tom.
"Ditto from me," said Sam. "But don't forget that what Dick says is true, nevertheless."
Ninety English shillings—about twenty-two dollars of our money—was more cash than Dan Baxter had seen in some time, his other money having been spent before he had taken his unexpected ocean trip, and his eyes brightened up wonderfully.
"I'll be much obliged to you for the—the loan," he stammered."I'll pay you back some time, remember."
"Never mind about that," replied Dick.
"My advice to you is, to take the first ship you can for home."
"And what brought you out here—going on a hunt for your father?"
"Yes."
"You'll have a big job finding him. I understand the natives of the Congo are going on the warpath before long. They have had some difficulty with the settlers."
"I guess we'll manage to take care of ourselves," answered Tom, and then he and his brothers followed their uncle up to the rooms which had been engaged for them during their stay in the town.
"He's, down in the mouth, and no mistake," was Tom's comment, when the boys were left to themselves. "I never saw him so humble before."
"Perhaps knocking around has taught him a lesson," said Dick. "I hope he really does turn over a new leaf."
The day proved to be a busy one. Randolph Rover gathered all the information he could concerning the trail along the Congo, and also tried to locate Niwili Camp. He likewise purchased several additions to his outfits from Simon Hook, and engaged the services of several natives, the leader of whom was a brawny black named Cujo, a fellow who declared that he knew every foot of the territory to be covered and who said he was certain that he could locate King Susko sooner or later.
"Him bad man," he said soberly. "No et him catch you, or you suffer big lot!" Cujo took to Aleck from the start, and the pair soon became warm friends. The African inspected their outfits with interest and offered several suggestions regarding additional purchases.
Three days were spent in Boma, and during that time the Rovers saw a good deal of Dan Baxter, who, having nothing better to do, hung around them continually. He remained as meek as before, but our friends did not know that this was merely the meekness of a savage cur while under the whip. Baxter was naturally a brute, and lacked the backbone necessary far genuine reformation.
"Say, why can't you take me with you?" he asked, on the day that the Rover expedition was to start out. "I'm willing to do my share of the work and the fighting, and I won't charge you a cent for my service."
"I don't know as my uncle wants anybody along," said Sam, to whomBaxter addressed his remarks.
"Well, won't you speak to him about it, Sam? I can't find anything to do here, and the captains to whom I've applied don't want me on their ships," pleaded the former bully of Putnam Hall.
Sam was easily touched at all times, and he knew that Baxter must feel lonely and wretched so far from home and without friends or capital. He at once went to his brothers and his uncle and laid the big youth's proposition before them.
"We don't want him," said Dick promptly.
"I don't believe he would be of any use to us."
"I would rather give him some more money just for him to stay behind," added Tom.
Mr. Rover was thoughtful for a moment.
"And what do you say, Sam?" he asked at length.
"Well, I don't like Baxter any more than the others do. But it seems awfully hard on him. I don't believe he knows how to turn."
"We might give him enough money to get back to the United States with."
"I'd rather have you do that, Uncle Randolph," said Dick. "I don't want him with me."
"I will have a talk with the misguided boy," was the conclusion reached by Randolph Rover; but he got no chance to speak to Dan Baxter until late in the afternoon, and then, to his astonishment, Baxter's manner had changed entirely, he intimating that he wanted nothing more to do with them.
For in the meantime something which was bound to be of great importance to the Rovers had occurred. In Boma were a number of persons of mixed French and native blood who were little better than the old-time brigands of Italy. They were led by a wicked wretch who went by the name of Captain Villaire. Villaire had been watching the Rovers for two days when he noticed the coldness which seemed to exist between, our friends and Baxter. At once he threw himself in Baxter's way and began to it pump the youth regarding the Americans.
"Zay are going into the interior, you have remarked," he said in very bad English. "Are zay verra rich people?"
"Yes, they are well fixed," answered the tall youth.
"And zay do carry zare money wid zem?"
"I guess not—at least, not much of it."
"You are zare friend, eh?"
"Hardly. Out in America we were enemies."
"So? You hata zem?"
"Yes, I hate them," muttered Dan, and his eyes shone wickedly. "I'm only treating them in a friendly way now because I'm out of money and must do something."
"I see. It ees a good head you have—verra good," murmuredCaptain Villaire. "Do you know, I heara dem talk about you?"
"Did you? What did they say?"
"De one boy say you should be in ze jail; didn't you robba somebody."
"He had better keep his mouth shut."
"You lika do somet'ing wid me?" continued the French native, closing one eye suggestively. He was a close reader of human nature and had read Baxter's character as if it was an open book.
"What do you mean?"
"We gitta dem people into trouble—maka big lot of money."
"All right—I'll do anything," answered Baxter savagely. "So they said I ought to be in jail, eh? I'll fix 'em yet!"
"You helpa me, I helpa you," went on the wily French native.
He had his plan all ready, and, after sounding Baxter some more, revealed what was in his mind, which was simply to follow the Rovers into the interior and then make them prisoners. Once this was done, they would hold the prisoners for a handsome ransom.
"That's a big job," answered the big youth. "But I like your plan, first-rate if you can carry it out."
"Trust me," replied Captain Villaire. "I have half a dozen of ze best of killowers-za, nevair fail me. But as you knowa dem you will have to do ze lettair writing for us, so zat we git ze money from zare people at home."
"Trust me for that," responded Baxter quickly. The plot pleased him immensely. "You do the capturing and I'll make Mrs. Rover or somebody else pay up handsomely, never fear."
And so a compact was formed which was to give the Rovers a good deal of trouble in the near future.
"It was queer Dan Baxter should act so," said Sam to his uncle, when Mr. Rover came back from his interview with the bully. "I thought he wanted to, go the worst way."
"He acted as if he had struck something else," answered Randolph Rover. "He didn't even want the money I offered. Perhaps he has received a remittance from home."
"Who would send it to him?" put in Dick. "His father is still in jail."
"Perhaps he got Mumps to send it to him," said Sam. "But I forgot, Mumps is away."
There was no time to discuss the situation further, for they were to start early on the following morning, and there were yet a dozen small matters which must be given attention. All were busy, and it was not until after eleven that evening that they turned in.
The day for the departure from Boma dawned bright and clear, and Cujo appeared with his assistants while they were still eating breakfast.
"Werry good day for um journey," he said, with a grin. "Make good many miles if nothing go wrong."
"You can't do any too well for me," answered Dick. "I hope our expedition into the interior is both short and successful."
At eight o'clock they were off. At first they had thought to go on horseback; but this was abandoned by the advice of the native, who declared that horses would prove more of a drag than a help in many places.
"Horse canno' climb tree bridge," he explained. "No climb high rock, no go around bad hill. We go on foot an' make better time."
The town was soon left behind and they struck a highway which for several miles afforded easy traveling. On all sides were dense groves of tropical growth, palms, mangoes, and the like, with enormous vines festooned from one tree to the next. Underneath were a great variety, of ferns and mosses, the homes of countless insects and small animals. The ground was black and wherever turned up gave forth a sickly odor of decayed vegetation.
"That is regular fever territory," explained Randolph Rover. "Boys, do not sleep on the ground if you can possibly avoid it. I sincerely trust that none of us take the tropical fever."
"If I feel it coming on I'll take a good dose of quinine," declared Tom.
Fortunately they had brought along a good supply of that valuable drug.
Two days traveling passed without special incident. On one side of the highway was the broad river, which glinted like molten lead in the sunshine. They could not travel very close to its bank, for here the ground was uncertain. Once Sam left the highway to get a better view of the stream, and, before Cujo noticed it, found himself up to his knees in a muck which stuck to him like so much glue.
"Hi! help me out!" roared the youngest Rover, and all of the party turned, to behold him waving his hand frantically toward them.
"He dun got stuck in de mud!" exclaimed Aleck, and started to go to Sam's assistance, when Cujo called him back.
"Must be werry careful," said the native. "Ground bad over dare—lose life if urn don't have a care. Wait fo' me." And he approached Sam by a circuitous route over the tufts of grass which grew like so many dots amid the swamp. Soon he was close enough to throw the youth the end of a rope he carried. The pull that, followed nearly took Sam's arms out by the sockets; but the boy was saved, to return to the others of the party with an experience which was destined to be very useful to him in, the future.
"It will teach me to be careful of where I am going after this," he declared. "Why, that bog looked almost as safe as the ground over here!"
"Tropical places are all full of just such treacherous swamps," returned Randolph Rover. "It will be wise for all of us to remember that we are now in a strange territory and that we must have our eyes and ears wide open."
At half-past eleven they came to a halt for dinner. The sun was now almost overhead, and they were glad enough to seek the shelter of a number of palms standing in front of a—native hostelry.
"We will rest here until two o'clock," said Mr. Rover. "It is all out of the question to travel in the heat of the day, as we did yesterday, in such a climate as this. Even the natives cannot stand that."
They found the hostelry presided over by a short, fat native who scarcely spoke a word of English. But he could speak French, and Mr. Rover spoke to him in that language, while Cujo carried on a talk in the native tongue. The midday repast was cooked over a fire built between several stones. The boys watched the cooking process with interest and were surprised to find, when it came to eating, that the food prepared tasted so good. They had antelope steak and a generous supply of native bread, and pure cocoa, which Tom declared as good as chocolate.
After the meal they took it easy in a number of grass hammocks stretched beneath the wide spreading palms surrounding the wayside inn, if such it might be called. Aleck and Cujo fell to smoking and telling each other stories, while the Rovers dozed away, lulled to sleep by the warm, gentle breeze which was blowing.
"I don't wonder the natives are lazy," remarked Dick, when his uncle aroused him. "I rarely slept in the daytime at home, and here I fell off without half trying."
"The climate is very enervating, Dick. That is why this section of the globe makes little or no progress toward civilization. Energetic men come here, with the best intention in the world of hustling, as it is termed, but soon their ambition oozes out of them like—well, like molasses out of a barrel lying on a hot dock in the sun.
"A good comparison," laughed Dick.
"Come, Tom; come, Sam!" he called out, and soon the party was on its way again.
The highway was still broad, but now it was not as even as before, and here and there they had to leap over just such a treacherous swamp as had caused Sam so much trouble. "It's a good thing we didn't bring the horses," said Mr. Rover. "I didn't think so before, but I do now."
The jungle was filled with countless birds, of all sorts, sizes, and colors. Some of these sang in a fairly tuneful fashion, but the majority uttered only sounds which were as painful to the hearing as they were tiresome.
"The sound is enough to drive a nervous fellow crazy," declared Tom. "It's a good thing nature fixed it so that a man can't grow up nervous here."
"Perhaps those outrageous cries are meant to wake a chap up," suggested Dick.
"I've a good mind to shoot some of the little pests."
"You may take a few shots later on and see what you can bring down for supper," answered his uncle. "But just now let us push on as fast as we can."
"Yes," put in Tom. "Remember we are out here to find father, not to hunt."
"As if I would ever forget that," answered Dick, with a reproachful glance.
They were now traveling a bit of a hill which took them, temporarily, out of sight of the Congo. Cujo declared this was a short route and much better to travel than the other. The way was through a forest of African teak wood, immense trees which seemed to tower to the very skies.
"They are as large as the immense trees of California of which you have all heard," remarked Randolph Rover. "It is a very useful wood, used extensively in ship building."
"After all, I think a boat on the Congo would have been better to use than shoe leather," said Sam, who was beginning to grow tired.
"No use a boat when come to falls," grinned Cujo. "Soon come to dem, too."
Aleck had been dragging behind, carrying a heavy load, to which he was unaccustomed. Now he rejoined the others with the announcement that another party was in their rear.
"They are on foot, too," he said. "Cujo whar you dun t'ink da be gwine?"
"To the next settlement, maybe," was Randolph Rover's comment, and Cujo nodded.
They waited a bit for the other party to come up, but it did not, and, after walking back, Cujo returned with the announcement that they were nowhere in sight.
"Perhaps they turned off on a side road," said Tom, and there the matter was dropped, to be brought to their notice very forcibly that night.
Evening found them at another hostelry, presided over by a Frenchman who had a giant negress for a wife. The pair were a crafty looking couple, and did not at all please the Rovers.
"Perhaps we may as well sleep with one eye open tonight," said Randolph Rover, upon retiring. "We are in a strange country, and it's good advice to consider every man an enemy until he proves himself a friend."
The hostelry was divided into half a dozen rooms, all on the ground floor. The Rovers were placed in two adjoining apartments, while the natives and Aleck were quartered in an addition of bamboo in the rear.
"Keep your eyes and ears open, Aleck," whispered Dick, on separating from the faithful colored man. "And if you find anything wrong let us know at once."
"Do you suspect anyt'ing, Massah Rober?" was Pop's anxious question.
"I do and I don't. Something in the air seems to tell me that everything is not as it should be."
"Dat Frenchman don't look like no angel, sah," and Aleck shook his head doubtfully.
"You're right, Aleck, and his wife is a terror, or else I miss my guess."
"Dat's right, Massah Rober; nebber saw sech sharp eyes. Yes, I'll look out-fo' my own sake as well as fo' de sake ob Ye and de rest," concluded Aleck.
The night was exceptionally cool for that locality; and, utterly worn out by their tiresome journey, all of the Rovers slept more soundly than they had anticipated.
But not for long. Dick had scarcely dropped off when he heard a noise at the doorway, which was covered with a rough grass curtain.
"Who is there?" he demanded, sitting up.
"Dat's all right," came in a whisper from Aleck. "Is dat yo',Massah Dick?"
"Yes, Aleck. What brings you?"
"I dun discovered somet'ing, sah."
"What?"
"Dat udder party dun come up an' is in de woods back ob dis, house."
"In camp?"
"No; dare is a Frenchman wot is talkin' to dah chap wot runs dis shebang, sah."
"Perhaps he wants accommodations," mused Dick.
"Can't say about dat, sah. But de fellers who come up hab a lot ob ropes wid 'em."
"That's certainly queer."
"What's the row?" came sleepily from Tom, and presently RandolphRover and Sam likewise awoke.
In a few words the colored man explained the situation. He had just finished when the wife of the proprietor of the resort came up to the doorway.
"The gentleman is wanted outside by my husband," she said in broken French.
"What does he want?" asked Mr. Rover.
"I can't say. But he says please to step out for a moment."
Mr. Rover repeated the woman's words to the boys. "What do you make of this?" he asked.
"I tell you something is wrong," declared Dick. "I have felt it all along."
"But what can be wrong, my lad?"
"If you go outside I'll go with you, Uncle Randolph."
"Well, you can do that if you wish."
The pair arose and speedily slipped on the few garments which they had taken off. Then Dick pulled out his pistol.
"Do you think it is as bad as that?" asked Sam.
"I don't know what to think. But I'm going to take uncle's advice and count every man an enemy until he proves himself a friend."
Soon Mr. Rover and Dick were ready to go out, and they did so, followed by Aleck and preceded by the native woman. As it was dark the Rovers easily concealed their weapons in the bosoms of their coats.
They walked past the bamboo addition and to the grove of trees Aleck had mentioned. There they found the Frenchman in conversation with Captain Villaire.
"You wish to see me?" demanded Randolph Rover.
"Very much," answered Villaire in French. "If You are Mr.Randolph Rover, are you not?"
"I am."
"And this is one of your nephews?"
"Yes."
"I believe you are hunting for the young man's father?" went onVillaire.
"We are. Do you know anything of him?" demanded Randolph Rover eagerly.
"I do. He sent me to you."
"He sent you!" cried Randolph Rover in amazement. "He is, then, alive?"
"Yes; but a prisoner, and very sick. He heard of your being in Boma by accident through a native of King Susko's tribe who was sent to the town for some supplies. I heard the story and I have been employed to lead you to him, and at once."
"But—but this is marvelous," stammered Randolph Rover. "I must say I do not understand it."
"It is a very queer turn of affairs, I admit. The other Mr. Rover must explain to you when you meet. He wishes you to come to him alone. It will not be safe for more."
As well as he was able Randolph Rover explained matters to Dick. In the meantime, however, the youth had been looking around sharply and had noted several forms gliding back and forth in the gloom under the trees. Dick was more suspicious than ever.
"Uncle Randolph, I don't believe this man," he said briefly. "The story he tells is too unnatural."
"I think so myself, Dick; but still—"
"Why didn't this man come straight to the house to tell us this?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
"Ask him."
Randolph Rover put the question to Captain Villaire. The Frenchman scowled deeply and shrugged his shoulders. "I had my reason," he said briefly. "Will you come with me?"
Before Randolph Rover could answer there came a shout from behind several trees.
"Look out fo' yourselves!" came in Aleck's voice. "Dis am a trap!"
"A trap!" repeated Dick, when of a sudden a half dozen men rushed at him and Randolph Rover and surrounded the pair. In a twinkle, before either could use his pistol, he was hurled flat and made a prisoner.
"Bind them, men," ordered Villaire sternly. "And bind them well, so that escape is impossible."
"Run for the house, Aleck!" yelled, out Dick, before those on top of him could choke him off. "Save Tom and Sam!
"I will!" came from the faithful black. And off he sped at top speed, with three or four of Captain Villaire's party after him. Cujo also went to the house, bewildered by what was going on and hardly knowing how to turn.
Randolph Rover fought desperately and so did Dick. But the two were no match for the six men who had attacked them, and ere they knew it the Rovers were close prisoners, with their hands bound behind them and each with a dirty gag of grass stuffed in his mouth.
"Now march, or you will be shot," came in bad English from one of the Villaire party. And as there seemed nothing better to do they marched, wondering why they had been attacked and where they were to be taken. Their arms had been confiscated, so further resistance was useless. When Dick lagged behind he received a cruel blow on the back which nearly sent him headlong.
A journey of several hours brought the party to a small clearing overlooking the Congo at a point where the bank was fully fifty feet above the surface of the stream. Here, in years gone by, a rough log hut had been built, which the African International Association had once used as a fort during a war with the natives. The log hut was in a state of decay, but still fit for use and almost hidden from view by the dense growth of vines which covered it.
The men who had brought Randolph Rover and Dick hither evidently knew all about the hut, for they proceeded to make themselves at home without delay. Taking the Rovers into one of the apartments of the dilapidated building they tied each to the logs of the walls, one several yards from the other.
"Now you must wait until Captain Villaire returns," said the leader of the party in French. "He will be here before daylight."
"But what does this mean?" demanded Randolph Rover.
"He will tell you what it means," grinned the brigand, and walked away to another part of the hut, which was built in a long, rambling fashion, and contained a dozen or more divisions.
"We are in a pickle," remarked Dick dismally. "This is hunting up father with a vengeance."
"We won't despair yet, Dick. But I would like to know what this means."
"It probably means robbery, for one thing, Uncle Randolph. And it may mean death." And the youth, shuddered.
"If I am not mistaken I saw some of these rascals hanging around the hotel in Boma."
"That is more than likely. They have been watching their chance to attack us ever since we left the town."
Slowly the hours wore away until morning dawned. The positions of both Dick and his uncle were most uncomfortable ones, and the youth was ready to groan aloud at the strain put upon his shoulders through having his arms tied behind him.
At last they heard footsteps approaching from the opposite end of the rambling building.
"Somebody at last!" cried Dick.
He had scarcely spoken when Captain Villaire appeared, followed by—Dan Baxter!
Dick could scarcely believe the evidence of his own eyesight as he gazed at the former bully of Putnam Hall and the Frenchman who stood beside him.
"Baxter! Is it possible!" he gasped. "What brought you here?"
"Are you a prisoner, too?" put in Randolph Rover.
"A prisoner!" laughed Baxter. "Well, that's a good one, I must say. No, I am not a prisoner."
"And what brought you here?" went on Mr. Rover.
"Can't you imagine?"
"He is in with these rascals who have captured us," came quickly from Dick. "This is how you repay our kindness, Baxter?"
"Your kindness? Bah! I want none of it. Didn't I refuse your offer, made just before you went away?"
"But you didn't refuse the first money we gave you, Baxter."
At this the bully bit his lip. "We won't talk about that, Dick Rover. Do you realize that you are absolutely in my power? How do you like it?"
"It was not you who captured us, Baxter."
"Well, it amounts to the same thing, eh, Capitan Villaire?" and the big boy turned to the French brigand, who nodded. "We collared you nicely."
"What of Sam and Tom?" asked Randolph Rover anxiously.
"Ve will not speak of zem udders," broke in Captain Villaire. "Ve vill speak apout you."
"Did Baxter put up this plot against us? queried Dick.
"To be sure I did," answered Baxter, who loved to brag just as much as ever.
"And before I let you go I'm going to make you pay up dearly for all that I have suffered. Captain Villaire, have you had them searched?" he asked, turning again to his companion.
"Yees, Baxter, but za had not mooch monish wid zem."
"How much?"
"Only about a hundred pounds."
"Then they left it behind at Binoto's place," was the quick answer. "Now if those others aren't captured—"
"Hush, ve vill not speak of zat," put in the brigand hastily."Tell zeni what I haf tole you."
"All right, I will." Dan Baxter turned once more to the prisoners. "Do you know why you were brought here?"
"To be robbed, I presume," answered Randolph Rover.
"Or that and worse," said Dick significantly,
"I reckon I have a right to all of your money, Dick Rover."
"I don't see how you make that out, Baxter."
"Years ago your father robbed mine out of the rights to a rich gold mine in the United States."
"That's your side of the story. I claim, and so did my father, that the mine was ours."
"It's a falsehood. The mine was discovered by my fattier, and if everything had gone right he would have had the income from it."
"This is ancient history, Baxter. Come to business. What do you intend to do with us?"
"We intend to make money out of you," was the answer, given with a rude laugh.
"In what manner?"
"First you will have to answer a few questions."
"Zat ees it," put in Captain Villaire. "How mooch morlish you bring wid you from America?"
"We didn't bring much," answered Randolph Rover, who began to smell a mouse.
"How mooch?"
"About two hundred pounds."
"Humph, a thousand dollars!" sneered Baxter. "That won't do at all."
"You must haf brought more!" cried the French brigand angrily.
"Not much more."
"You leave zat in Boma, wid ze bankers, eh?"
"Yes."
"But you haf von big lettair of credit, not so?"
"Yes, we have a letter of credit," answered Randolph Rover. "But that won't do you any good, nor the money at the banker's neither."
"Ve see about zat, monsieur. Proceed," and Captain Villaire waved his hand toward Dan Baxter.
"This is the situation in a nutshell, to come right down to business," said the former bully of Putnam Hall coolly. "You are our prisoners, and you can't get away, no matter how hard you try. Captain Villaire and his men, as well as myself, are in this affair to make money. The question is, what is your liberty worth to you?"
"So you intend to work such a game?" demanded Dick.
"That's the game, yes."
"Well, I shan't pay you a cent."
"Don't be a fool, Dick Rover. We are not to be trifled with."
"Well, I haven't any money, and that ends it. You already have all I had."
"Then you will have to foot the bill," continued Dan Baxter, turning to Randolph Rover.
"If you value your liberty you will pay us what we demand."
"And what do you demand?" questioned Mr. Rover.
"We demand twenty thousand dollars—ten thousand for the liberty of each."
This demand nearly took away Randolph Rover's breath.
"Twenty thousand dollars!" he gasped. "It is—is preposterous!"
"Is it? You are worth a good deal more than that, Mr. Rover. AndI am demanding only what is fair."
"You shall never get the money."
"Won't we?"
"Never!"
"Perhaps you'll sing a different tune in a few, days—after your stomachs get empty," responded Dan Baxter, with a malicious gleam in his fishy eyes. "So you mean to starve us into acceding to your demands," said Dick. "Baxter, I always did put you down as a first-class rascal. If you keep, on, you'll be more of a one than your father."
In high rage the former bully of Putnam Hall strode forward and without warning struck the defenseless Dick a heavy blow on the cheek.
"That, for your impudence," he snarled. "You keep a civil tongue in your head. If you don't—" He finished with a shake of his fist.
"You had bettair make up your mind to pay ze monish," said Captain Villaire, after a painful pause. "It will be ze easiest way out of ze situation for you."
"Don't you pay a cent, Uncle Randolph," interrupted Dick quickly. Then Baxter hit him again, such a stinging blow that he almost lost consciousness.
"For shame!" ejaculated Mr. Rover. "He is tied up, otherwise you would never have the courage to attack him. Baxter, have you no spirit of fairness at all in your composition?"
"Don't preach—I won't listen to it!" fumed the bully. "You have got to pay that money. If you don't—well, I don't believe you'll ever reach America alive, that's all."
With these words Dan Baxter withdrew, followed by CaptainVillaire.
"You think za will pay?" queried the French brigand anxiously.
"To be sure they will pay. They value their lives too much to refuse. Just wait until they have suffered the pangs of hunger and thirst, and you'll see how they change their tune."
"You are certain za have ze monish?"
"Yes; they are rich. It will only be a question of waiting for the money after they send for it."
"I vill not mind zat."
"Neither will I—if we are safe here. You don't think anybody will follow us?"
"Not unless za find ze way up from ze rivair. Za cannot come here by land, because of ze swamps," answered the Frenchman. "And ze way from ze rivair shall be well guarded from now on," he added.