The Boy Chums In The Forest Part 16

Dipping his handkerchief over the side, he gently sponged Charley's pale face with it.

The contact of the cold water seemed to revive the wounded lad. He opened his eyes and attempted to smile, although his lips were twitching with pain. "What a nuisance I am, old chap," he said faintly.

"Not a bit," declared Walter, cheerfully, overjoyed at his return to consciousness. "Here, take a drink of this cold water, and then I am going to have a look at your wound."

With his hunting-knife, Walter cut away the b.l.o.o.d.y s.h.i.+rt from the shoulder and exposed the gaping hole to view. It was still bleeding slightly, but he noted with satisfaction that the bullet had pa.s.sed completely through the fleshy part of the shoulder without touching the bone, a painful wound, but not a fatal one. He washed it clean with river water and bound it up with strips from his own s.h.i.+rt. "You'll be all right in a few days," he declared cheerfully. "Now just lay quiet.

I am going to paddle in to the nearest point and start a fire and make you some broth."

Walter's heart was lighter than it had been in many hours as he again resumed his paddle. Day had brought fresh hope and courage. Charley was getting along far better than he had dared to hope during the night. He soon would be well enough to take command, and then, thought Walter, they would soon find their friends. He had great confidence in Charley's ability to get them out of their present predicament.

Suddenly Walter paused in his paddling and sat staring at the point, which was now scarce a hundred yards distant. A thin wisp of smoke curled up above the thick growth of palmettos with which the point was covered.

"Charley," he called softly, "there is someone on the point; they have just started up a fire."

"Better sheer off and give it a wide berth, then," counseled his chum.

"If it were the captain or the chief, you would see the canoes."

"But the boats may be pulled up among the mangrove bushes," Walter objected. "If it should be the captain and Chris, just think what our pa.s.sing by them would mean. We might never see them again, Charley. I am going to have a look."

"All right," agreed his chum, "but be very careful, Walt."

The fire was located well in on the point, and Walter steered to land some distance out from it. A few strokes of the paddle sent the light canoe gliding in amongst the mangrove bushes that fringed the sh.o.r.e.

Climbing out upon the curious gnarled roots, Walter pulled the canoe far enough in to effectually screen it from sight. Next he examined his pistols to see that they were properly loaded, and with a parting word of cheer for his chum, he made his way slowly and cautiously over the intervening roots to the sh.o.r.e.

He soon found that it was no easy task he had set himself. Between himself and the fire fifty yards away, intervened the heaviest growth of timber he had ever seen; palms, sweet gums, satinwoods, and pines mingled in close and wild confusion, while the ground beneath them was a matted ma.s.s of vines and creepers.

For a moment Walter hesitated. Some of the vines and creepers, he knew, were poisonous. To touch them meant sores, swellings, and suffering. But it was only for a moment he paused. The thought of how much might depend on his errand drove him on. Tearing two strips from his already tattered s.h.i.+rt, he wrapped them around either hand, and dropping on hands and knees he cautiously wound his way towards the fire.

His progress was slow and painful. Dangling brier vines drew blood from arms and face, and sharp thorns repeatedly lacerated hands and knees. At each move forward he had to pause and remove the dead branches and twigs from his path lest their cracking should betray him to the campers. At last, however, he could catch the sound of voices, and wriggling forward with infinite caution, he reached a place from which he could get a glimpse between the trees at the group gathered around the fire.

The sight was not rea.s.suring. Near the blaze a half dozen of the convicts lay lounging at their ease, while another one was busily engaged in making coffee and frying bacon. The neighing of ponies in the background told the watcher how they had arrived at the point before him. They must have ridden most of the night to have covered the distance, and Walter felt a sinking of heart as he realized the determination of their pursuit. The conversation that came to his ears did not tend to rea.s.sure him.

The convicts were evidently tired and in bad humor, and a hot argument was raging.

"I tell you it's all foolishness, this losing sleep and wearing ourselves out," declared a tall, thin, pasty-faced individual. "Here's my plan: just break up into parties of two or three and each party strike out for a different town and catch a freight out of the state.

I 'low we're just wasting time and making trouble for ourselves by following up them chaps."

"Bill Salino, you've got as little sense as courage," declared a man whom Walter recognized as the leader of the gang. "The time for scattering and getting out of the state has gone by. There will be men watching for us at every point, and to be caught means hanging for all hands now. We've got to lay quiet here for six months or so until they give up watching for us. We're safe enough here unless them chaps get away and bring the Indians or a sheriff's posse down on us; and they won't get away if I have to follow them into the heart of the Everglades," he declared vindictively.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CAPTURED.

From the expression on their faces, Walter judged that the other four convicts were in doubt as to which of the two plans they should lend their support to. "Are you sure we'll catch 'em, Cap?" inquired one, doubtfully, "there are so powerful many forks to this river, it's like hunting for a needle in a haystack."

"If we don't get 'em, Injin Charley will," declared the leader, confidently. "I wouldn't be surprised to see him show up with 'em any minute now. He's an Injin and knows just what course them redskins in the dugout will be likely to take."

Still the outlaws seemed to waver, and the leader s.h.i.+fted his arguments. "If you fellows take up with Salino's fool idea, just think what shape you'll be in, even if you don't get caught. You won't have no money and will have to go around like a hobo until you make a strike. Now if we catch this chief, I reckon we can torture him, till he tells us where his plumes are hid. Then when things have quieted down a bit we can send a man in to dispose of 'em and walk out of here like gentlemen with money in our pockets."

This argument seemed to appeal to his companions, and the murmuring ceased.

Walter decided that he had heard enough, and turning, started to retrace his way back to the canoe. His second movement forward, however, was his undoing. A large limb upon which he had trusted his weight broke noisily under him, and he was precipitated forward into a huge clump of briars. Before he could regain his feet, strong hands seized him and dragged him, still vainly struggling, out into the clearing.

"One of 'em," cried the leader triumphantly, "I reckon the rest ain't far off. Scatter and search the point for 'em, boys,--but wait a bit, maybe this young cub can save us trouble."

But Walter had been thinking rapidly. If he was to save his chum it was no time for nice scruples. With a silent prayer for forgiveness, he waited the outlaws' questions.

The leader drew a revolver, c.o.c.ked it, and presented it at the lad's head. "You can tell me the truth now or I'll blow your head off," he growled.

Walter's face took on an expression of fear and cringing terror far greater than he was really feeling. The brutal ruffian eyed this appearance of fear with every evidence of satisfaction. "Now I guess you'll answer my questions truthfully," he said threateningly. "First, where are your companions?"

"They left us in the darkness and we could not catch up with them.

They must be way up the river by now," Walter stammered.

His questioner swore loudly. "Got past us, did they? Well, no matter, we'll get them easily now, we know for sure which stream they took."

Walter could hardly conceal his delight at having put the ruffian upon a false trail, but he was ready for the next question, which came quickly.

"How did you get here?"

"The canoe struck a log, capsized, and sank. I swam ash.o.r.e."

"What became of the fellow in the boat with you?"

"Drowned, I guess," said Walter with a sob.

The leader turned to the others. "I reckon he's too scairt to be lying," he said, "however, you had better take a look around the point.

Be quick about it, though, for we will have to hurry to catch up with those other chaps. Here, tie this fellow up before you go."

Walter was seized, his hands tied behind him, and he was lashed with his back to a small satinwood tree.

He watched the departure of the ruffians with sinking heart. If they searched thoroughly, Charley and the canoe were sure to be discovered.

The outlaws soon returned, however, after a very careless search and reported nothing in sight. Truth to tell, tired as they were, they had quickly wearied of trying to force their way through the dense jungle.

After a hasty breakfast, the leader gave the order to mount. "You two stay here and wait for Injin Charley," he commanded, indicating two of the gang. "We have got to let him know what we've learned. I reckon we'll be back by night, if we ain't, you follow us in the morning."

"What shall we do with the kid?" inquired one of the men.

"Turn him over to Injin Charley when he comes in. I reckon he'll know what to do with him," said the leader with a grin so evil and suggestive that it made the helpless lad's blood run cold.

The four outlaws and their leader mounted their ponies and soon were lost to sight among the trees. The two left behind proceeded to make themselves comfortable without a thought for the exhausted lad whose tight bonds cut cruelly into arms and legs. They raked up beds of leaves upon which they spread their blankets and then proceeded to make up for the sleep they had lost during the night.

Walter was not only suffering much physically, but was in great mental distress as well. He feared that at any moment Charley, alarmed by his long absence, might call or fire off one of the guns and bring the outlaws to his hiding-place. How could he warn him of the danger he was in? Suddenly the bound lad was seized by an ingenious idea.

a.s.suring himself by their deep breathing, that his captors were fast asleep, he began to whistle, softly at first, then gradually louder and louder till the weird, mournful strains of the "Funeral March" filled the air.