The Ranger Boys Outwit the Timber Thieves Part 22

The door was thrown open, and a man walked into the room.

"So it's the Carson people that are back of you this time, eh, Barrows?

Guess I got here just in time!"

The men gasped in amazement, for there stood "Moose" Boone.

In the face of this crisis, the only one to keep his head was LeBlanc.

"Seize him," he whispered sibilantly to his brother, in French.

Before Mr. Boone could make a move, he was grabbed by the powerful brothers. One of them clasped a hand over his mouth, and without a word, as though they had practiced for this very moment, Jean s.n.a.t.c.hed a soiled bandanna from his pocket, and in another minute Mr. Boone was effectually gagged.

Barrows also had sprung into action. Rummaging around under the pine table that served as a desk, he brought forth a length of rope, and soon Boone was tightly bound.

"Carry him over to the storehouse. Don't put him in the cellar. This makes things better. We can keep him prisoner for several days and clean up. Lively now," ordered Barrows.

"Moose" Boone was carried to the storehouse and unceremoniously dumped.

He lay on the floor thinking how foolish he had been to come alone to a camp where he knew there was treachery afoot, but now it was too late to cry over spilled milk. He wondered where the boys were, since he had seen no sign of them about the camp.

His reason for coming was the note that Garry had sent him, and which the hermit had succeeded in having posted.

He twisted around several times in an effort to relieve the pain in his arms and feet from lying tied on the hard floor.

Nearly two hours pa.s.sed, and then the door was softly unlocked and opened. In stepped the cook. Mr. Boone wondered what was to happen now, and he received the surprise of his life when the cook fished out his knife and proceeded to cut the bonds that bound him.

"Have you come to the conclusion that this was a fool thing to do? I am thankful, of course, and will see that you are let go when the rest of this gang is rounded up," said Boone.

The cook did not speak until he had cut the bonds.

"First, Mr. Boone, I'll tell you something and then I'll show you someone. I don't suppose you will remember a cold spring day nearly twenty-five years ago on the Umculcos, when you risked your own life to save a lumberjack that was trying to ride a log and fell into the river with the logs crus.h.i.+ng down about him?"

Boone's mind travelled swiftly back to the day, although he had not given it a thought for years.

"Yes, I remember pulling a man out, and then falling sick from the cold, and when I got well the man I had pulled out was gone," he answered.

"Well, I was the man you pulled out. I left the camp because I was only a fool young fellow and they made so much fun of me for falling in that I picked up and got out. I never knew you were the man until I saw you tonight and hitched your name up with the man who saved me. Now I'll show you something like I promised."

He rolled the barrels away and raised the trap. "Come up," he called into the darkness.

d.i.c.k awoke from a troubled sleep and painfully crawled up the ladder. It took a few moments for his eyes to get accustomed to the light, and then he looked as though he saw a ghost.

"Uncle," he almost shouted, for so it was that he always addressed Mr.

Boone.

They clasped hands with a hearty good will and were about to exchange notes when the door was thrown open and Barrows and the two LeBlancs entered.

Each held a revolver with a steady hand.

"So, cook, you've turned traitor, have you? Well, it just makes another prisoner. Now Boone, it's no use trying to do anything. Most of the men in the camp are in my pay, and just to be sure that we clean up tonight and tomorrow night as we had planned, we have seized all the men we are not sure of and have them herded in the bunkhouse and under heavy guard.

This time we'll succeed!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CAPTURE

We left Garry, Phil and Howells with the squatter king on the lake sh.o.r.e waiting for darkness. When it fell, they retrieved the canoe from its hiding place and started across the timberland to Dutton Lake. The trip occupied nearly three hours, although they made excellent speed.

The faint light of the stars pierced the blackness of the forest, so they did not have to stumble along, although the greatest of caution was exercised every moment.

They reached the lake without encountering a person, and then launched the canoe. They did not dare trust the weight of the four to the frail craft, and so it was planned that King and Phil should remain behind, while Art and Garry paddled out into the lake. They did not have to wait a great while until the chugging of the powerful engine in the motor boat was heard.

Paddling with the noiseless stroke of the Indians, they followed after a reasonable time had elapsed. They had taken only a few strokes when Art whispered:

"Here, we're going at this thing wrong. When that raft is loaded and starts back across the water, it will make too much speed for us to follow. Suppose we start now for the other side of the lake. Then we can lie off sh.o.r.e and wait for its arrival and see who meets the raft to unload it. That will complete your evidence, and we'll duck out for the camp and somehow get hold of d.i.c.k. What say?"

Without a word, Garry, who was paddling stern, gave his paddle a twist and the canoe turned in its course. They reached the other side and then lay off sh.o.r.e as agreed, giving the paddles an occasional twist to keep the canoe from drifting, for a gentle breeze was stirring the lake.

After a long wait they heard the approach of the motor boat, which, as was customary, was running without lights. Far down the sh.o.r.e they saw a light appear as though some one were flas.h.i.+ng a lamp. It was probably to guide the boat to its destination in the darkness. When the boat reached its objective point, they paddled noiselessly to within a few feet of it, and beached the canoe. Walking with the stealth of Indians, they came close to where the boat was being unloaded.

"By jove, I know that voice," whispered Garry, as he heard a man ask:

"So this is how the trick is done? Pretty clever, I call it. Steal the timber and then raft it across to where you have your trucks waiting and hustle it to the railroad spur. Mighty good work on the part of Barrows.

"That's Carson himself; used to be a.s.sociated with Father," whispered Garry. He and Howells were hiding back of a tree, well away from danger of being seen. At that moment Carson struck a match to light his pipe.

"Get a good look at him, we will want to identify him in court if necessary," said Garry. Howells nudged him to make him understand that he had done so.

"Now wait here," whispered Garry. Howells watched in amazement as Garry crept to the water's edge and noiselessly waded in. He made no sound as he swam. When he came back, dripping wet, Howells wanted to ask a score of questions, but forebore for fear of being heard.

He was about to come closer and whisper, when a form crept up to them and a low voice said:

"So we meet again."

It was Baptiste LeBlanc. The Frenchman then lifted his voice and called for the others. But he did not get very far. Howells struck with all his strength and his hard knuckles took the halfbreed on the point of the jaw. LeBlanc dropped like a stone.

"Come, Garry, this way quick," called Art. There was no need of whispering now, for the men who had been unloading had heard the alarm and there was the sound of rus.h.i.+ng feet.

"Into the canoe, Art. They can't follow us," said Garry.

Howells had intended a dash into the woods, where there was less likelihood of being caught, but he obeyed Garry, knowing that he had some plan in view. They pushed the canoe into the water, springing into it as they did. It was lucky that Howells was an experienced canoeist, else the frail boat would have been overturned. As it was, they got a good start, and in a moment were bending to their paddles with all their might and strength.

"What's to stop them following us in the motor boat? We should have taken to the woods," remonstrated Art.

"Faster, I'll tell you later," answered Garry breathlessly. At that minute they heard loud imprecations from the sh.o.r.e.