The River Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence Part 28

Clay glanced at the fellow steadily. He had now in a measure recovered his equilibrium. His impulse was to smash a blow into the grinning face bent over him.

He didn't like the black, matted beard. He objected to the greasy, frayed jacket. The man's snaky, near-set eyes offended him. More than once he drew back a clenched fist to strike the evil face.

"It seems to me," the boy said, restraining himself with a great effort, "that I walked right into a den and found the snakes at home."

"Yes, little one," the man replied, "We sort of dipped you up in a bottle. I bet my chum, here, a dollar that he wouldn't get you the first time he tried. I lose, so you'd better pa.s.s out the dough and I'll pay up. I always pay my sporting debts."

"Perhaps you'd better take the whole roll," Clay said, producing a small handful of change and pa.s.sing it over. "You'll get it in time, anyway."

The man took the money, counted it slowly with clumsy fingers and thrust it into a pocket.

"As long as you have money, you know," Clay said sneeringly, "you won't have to be taking pennies away from children or stealing from blind men. You're quite welcome to what I have."

"You just cut that stuff quick," snarled the man rising to his feet, his face blotching red. "Cut that quick!"

He might have struck the boy only his companion drew him away.

"Keep back, you fool," the cooler man said, "Do you want him to bring all the others here with his yelping? Why, we can't even shoot him till sundown, so we'd better gag him to keep him from squealing."

"You needn't worry about me squealing," Clay said. "I learned how to keep my mouth shut when you ruffians were serving your last sentence in the penitentiary."

One of the men drew out a knife and flashed it angrily before the boy's face.

"Keep a civil tongue in your head," he said, "and you, Ben, chase up to the north and get the kid that followed Max. We'll tie 'em up together."

Clay was now drawn to his feet and his hands tied tightly behind his back. In this condition, he was marched swiftly through the brush, vines and boughs striking his unprotected face. He paid little attention, however, to his physical discomforts. He was listening for some indication of the capture of Alex.

CHAPTER XIX

A SPLASH OF WATER

Much to Clay's amazement, his captor kept to the east following a ridge of rocks from which both rivers might be seen in the distance whenever the foliage did not intervene. After walking half a mile or more, the fellow turned his steps into a narrow gully and soon entered a natural cavern before which a campfire had been built.

"Now, you pretty little creature," he said, addressing Clay, "you're going to be tied up here and left until you return the map which was given to you by mistake."

"A map of what?" asked Clay instantly.

"A map of this country," was the short reply.

"I'm not giving out maps at present," the boy answered.

"Perhaps you will be, after you get good and hungry," snarled the other.

"In the first place," Clay said, "I haven't got the map. I couldn't get it for you if I wanted to. The boys wouldn't give it up."

"So you admit that you've got it?"

"I did have a rough drawing of this country," was the reply, "but it didn't seem to mean much to me."

"That's the doc.u.ment we want," the outlaw said, "and the quicker you give it up and get out of this district, the safer your hide will be."

Before Clay could make any response the man who had set off in pursuit of Alex came wrathfully into the cave. One hand was bleeding profusely, and there was a long cut on his left cheek. His clothing was disarranged, showing every evidence of a physical struggle.

"Where's the kid, Ben?" was asked.

The man's reply was a volley of epithets and profanity.

"You never let him get away from you, did you?" asked the other angrily. "You might bring him in in your pocket."

"You couldn't bring him in in a dray," answered Ben. "You might as well try to wrestle with a b.u.mble bee. I got a grip on the little imp's collar, but before I could do a thing, he had a knife out. And then I got this," laying a dirty finger on a dirtier hand, "and this,"

pointing to the bleeding cheek. "And the next I knew, he was out of sight in the jungle."

"You're the brave boy!" snarled the other.

"Look here, Steve," Ben said, "if you think it's such a fine stunt to seize a Chicago newsboy, you just go and try it yourself. I've had enough of it. And that's no fairy tale."

Ben threw himself angrily on the floor of the cave, took a bottle of liquor and a roll of white cloth from under a fur robe which lay in a corner and proceeded to cleanse and bind up his wound. Clay watched him with a smile on his face. Steve was scowling frightfully.

"You needn't look so pleased over it, young feller," the outlaw said.

"We'll get that little imp, yet. And we'll get your boat and your whole crew. And if we have much more trouble, we'll start a cemetery right here."

Clay made no reply at the time. He was wondering just how much the outlaws knew of the map. It seemed to him that the person who had drawn the first one might easily draw a second upon the loss of the first. He could not understand why the outlaws were making such strenuous efforts to secure the doc.u.ment when they might have procured a copy.

"What was it you said about a map?" the boy finally asked of Steve who sat now scowling at Ben. "Where did the map come from?"

"It came from a blooming Indian," was the sullen reply.

The fellow answered the question so promptly that Clay decided that he was merely a cheap tool in the employ of some master mind.

"Well," the boy went on, "why are you bothering us about it? Why don't you go and get him to make another?"

Steve hesitated and Clay listened very impatiently indeed for his answer. Finally the outlaw spoke:

"Blest if I know," he said. "We were told to get the map and that's all we know about it."

"And if you can't get it?" asked Clay.

"Then all we've got to do is to start a graveyard. If we can't get it, no one else shall use it. Mind that!"

"How long have you been waiting here for the _Rambler_ to come back down the river?" asked the boy.

"Look here," replied Steve, apparently regretting his previous loquacity. "I've known a whole lot of boys to get along in the world without asking so many questions."

As he spoke he arose, went to the mouth of the cavern and glanced out.

Ben followed him with the one eye which was free of the bandage, but did not arise. Directly a stone broke loose from a side of the gully and went pounding down to the rocky bottom. Then a low whistle was heard.