Fred Fenton on the Crew Part 17

"Glad you came along," Colon declared; "was just getting tired waiting; been here half an hour, 'cause I heard the church clock strike; but it seemed like five times as long."

Fred opened the door carefully, and they entered the shed. A lantern hung on a hook nearby, ready for use. They would need its light so as to get things in readiness for pa.s.sing the night. Besides, Colon had a little idea of his own he wanted to put into practice; and which had been suggested by the sight of a big empty hogshead that stood outside the door, on the shelving beach.

"I'm going to lay a neat little trap, and see what luck I have," he chuckled as Fred asked why he wanted the lantern, after they had fixed their blankets and made ready for taking things easy.

Colon was gone quite some little time. Fred could hear him working away like a beaver at something. And as a rope seemed to figure in the affair he felt a little curiosity to know what sort of a trap the ingenious fellow could be constructing, all by himself.

Finally tall Colon came in again.

"It's all fixed, and the door locked once more, Fred," he said.

"Then the quicker you blow that glim out the better," remarked the other; "for you see, one of those fellows might come around to spy out the land, and noticing a light in here, he'd be suspicious."

Colon took the hint, and put out the lantern, which, however, was kept near, so that in case of a sudden alarm it could be quickly brought into use again.

After that the two lads made themselves fairly comfortable, though they did not remove their shoes. In case of trouble they wanted to be in condition for active and immediate work.

Fred had filled several old buckets, so as to be ready to fight fire.

And for a little while they lay there, occasionally whispering to one another.

Finally Colon went to sleep. Fred knew this from his steady breathing; and since he was feeling more or less tired himself, after the strenuous labor of rowing in the afternoon just pa.s.sed, he too allowed his senses to be lulled into the land of Nod.

How time pa.s.sed Fred had not the remotest idea, when he was suddenly awakened by a terrific clamor, that, to his excited imagination, sounded like a railroad train running off the track, and smas.h.i.+ng into a kitchen, where the walls were lined with all manner of tinware.

Both he and Colon sat up suddenly.

CHAPTER XIX

NIPPED IN THE BUD

"Hear that, Fred?"

Of course it was foolish of Colon to ask such a question as this of his companion. That racket was enough to awaken the soundest sleeper. But then he was so excited he just felt that he had to say something.

Fred threw his blanket aside. Then he reached out for the lantern, and his handy match-safe, so that they could get some light on the subject.

As soon as this little task had been accomplished, he and Colon started for the door full-tilt. Opening this, they pa.s.sed out.

The noise of falling tinpans had by now entirely ceased. Of course the artful Colon had piled up all the waste cans he could find, so that if they were toppled over they would make considerable racket. Once upon a time there had been some sort of manufactory connected with the shed; and back of it Colon had discovered a regular mine of what he wanted in the way of rusty cans, large enough to suit his purpose, and make all the noise heart could wish.

"Look! I got one!"

Colon pointed excitedly as he said this, and as Fred looked he burst out into a loud laugh. Evidently Colon's trap had worked. A boy was dangling by the heels, held up in the air by the loop of a rope, which seemed to pa.s.s over a post connected with the building, and then extend to the hogshead, partly filled with stones, and which was now half way down the beach, the rope taut, and holding the victim in his elevated position.

"It's Conrad Jimmerson!" exclaimed Colon, as they arrived close to the boy, who was kicking furiously, and groaning dismally.

His coat hung down over his head in such fas.h.i.+on that he could not see what was going on; Colon must have recognized him by his clothes, or through some boyish instinct.

"Oh! get me down, quick!" moaned the trapped prowler. "All the blood's agoin' to my head, and I'll be a dead one soon! Please cut me down, fellers! I won't run!"

"I'm right sure you won't," remarked Colon, drily; "but while I've got you held up so neat, I might as well make it doubly certain."

With, that he secured the other flouris.h.i.+ng leg so that when Conrad was lowered to the ground he could not move without their permission.

"Give us a hand here, Fred, and we'll get him out of the trap,"

remarked the proud inventor of the running-barrel game. "You see, he stepped right up on this box, just as I figured, and touched the trigger. With that he started the heavy barrel rolling down-grade; and the loop caught him by one leg, instead of both, as I meant it should."

"But what was all the fierce noise that woke us up?" asked Fred, as he a.s.sisted Colon to take the victim down, by dragging in on the rope, so as to slacken the loop around the leg of the trapped one.

"Oh! shucks! just a pile of tin cans I built up, to be knocked over when the barrel got to turning around. You see, I was a little afraid that we mightn't hear when the trap was sprung, and I wouldn't want to miss this funny sight for anything. Here, you are, Conrad; lie there now, till we can drag you inside the house."

The boy was evidently very much frightened. He had thought his ankle in the grasp of some unseen giant, when the loop tightened, and s.n.a.t.c.hed him upwards. No wonder he trembled and wheezed as he cowered there.

"We'd better go in right now, then," remarked Fred. "Some of that crowd might take a notion to come back and see what has happened to Conrad.

Take hold of him on that side, Colon, while I look after this one."

"Oh! what you a-goin' to do with me?" queried the prisoner. "I haven't done a single thing, fellers, cross my heart if I did. Just wanted to see if anybody was a-sleepin' in the old shed. Buck told me to be sure and not hurt the boat. He says that its bad enough because we lost ours, without anything a-happenin' to yours. I wouldn't do a little thing, sure I wouldn't. Hope you believe me boys. Don't lick me! I got about all I ought to have already. I'm s.h.i.+verin' to beat the band. Quit jerkin' me that way, Chris Colon; I ain't hurt you!"

"Oh! come along, you silly!" said the tall boy, who had a contempt for so great a sneak and coward as Conrad Jimmerson.

Fred closed and locked the door again after they had entered. The sound of the key being turned in the lock started the frightened boy into protesting again. He judged others by Buck's standard, and the bare thought of finding himself alone and a prisoner, in the power of those he would have injured, seemed to give him a case of the "trembles," as Colon called it.

"Now I want you to take a look into his pockets," the tall boy remarked.

Immediately he uttered a triumphant exclamation.

"See here, Fred, he had a whole lot of matches with him!" he called out. "Looks like he was ready for business, all right."

"Say, I always carry matches with me, and you know it, Chris Colon,"

protested the alarmed prisoner, vigorously.

"Perhaps you do, but never so many as these," Colon went on. "I kind of reckon you thought you'd have good need of 'em this night. But what're you carrying under your arm that way, Fred? Saw you step over, and pick somethin' up outside there. Find anything worth while; another feller's cap, maybe?"

"No, it was this," and Fred held an object up.

"What's that? Looks like a bundle of old rags!" remarked Colon, quickly; while the prisoner gasped and s.h.i.+vered worse than ever.

"There was something more; what do you think of this?" and for the second time Fred elevated his hand, containing an object that made Colon utter a cry of rage.

"A bottle!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "What's in it, Fred? Three to one I c'n guess. Kerosene!"

"That's just what it is," returned the other, gravely. "Some fellows came here to-night prepared to throw this stuff over one end of the old shed, and start a fire going. Perhaps they even meant to break in, and scatter the oil over the boat, so nothing could save it, once the fire got started. We've nipped as mean a little game in the bud as I ever heard about."

Colon turned on the prisoner with a black face, and gritting teeth.