CHAPTER VI.
MR. DACRE SUSTAINS AN ACCIDENT.
During breakfast the mysterious vanishing of the schooner was discussed,with what eager interest may be imagined. They could not understand whythe noise of her incoming anchor chain had not been observed. Nor yet,why the creak of the blocks and the rattle of the rigging as her sailswere hoisted, had not been heard. It was Tom who solved the first partof the puzzle.
Coming on deck after breakfast, the lad found the sun sparkling down onthe dancing waters, and flashing brightly on the white-capped wave tops.Looking in the direction in which he was sure the schooner had lain thenight before, he perceived a dark object bobbing about on the water. Itlooked like a barrel. And so, on investigation, it proved to be. Whenthe sloop was sculled alongside by her big sixteen-foot oars, they foundthat an anchor chain had been made fast to the keg. The schooner hadsilently slipped her moorings in the night. The fact that the keg wasfast to her anchor chain would make it an easy matter, however, for herto pick it up again at her leisure.
"Does that mean that they saw us, do you think?" asked Mr. Dacre.
Mr. Chillingworth shook his head.
"If they had seen us," he said rather grimly, "I hardly think we shouldhave all been here this morning. At any rate, that is the reputationthat Bully Banjo has. He has an unpleasant way of disposing of any onehe thinks may have spied on him."
"I don't see how in the twentieth century such a rascal can be permittedat large," said Mr. Dacre angrily. "He ought to be captured and his justdeserts dealt out to him."
"Well," said Mr. Chillingworth, "the trouble is just this. Most of theranchers hereabouts are poorish men. The country has not been fullycleared, and their ranches, so far, yield them small profits. This BullyBanjo pays well for the teams he borrows. Generally, when the horses arereturned, there's a twenty-dollar note with them."
"But the man is engaged in an illegal business," said Tom.
Again Mr. Chillingworth smiled.
"It's mighty hard to get the average man to see that smuggling anything,from cigars to Chinamen, is illegal," he said. "On the contrary, mostmen appear to have an idea it's smart to beat Uncle Sam. But," his voicechanged and took on a stern note, "I, for one, am not going to stand forthis rascal's domineering any longer. Some weeks ago I wrote toWashington and informed the Secret Service bureau there exactly what wasgoing on. They promised to investigate, but since then I've heardnothing more. You can readily see that it would be folly for me to makea stand alone against this man. Why, he's capable of swooping down on myranch and burning it to the ground."
"That's true," mused Mr. Dacre thoughtfully. "I quite see where thisBully Banjo's power comes in. But----"
He broke off short. Some instinct made him turn at the moment and he sawthat Fu, the Chinaman, had been eagerly drinking in every word that hadbeen said. As he met Mr. Dacre's eyes, the Mongolian muttered somethingand dived into the cabin, ostensibly very busy washing dishes.
"You needn't worry about Fu," laughed Mr. Chillingworth. "He's faithfulas the day is long."
"I don't know," said Mr. Dacre seriously. "Somehow I never like to trusta Chinaman. They remind me of cats in their mysterious way of movingabout you. If that fellow wanted to, he could cause you a lot of troublenow."
"Ah, but he won't," laughed Mr. Chillingworth, "and, in any event, whatcould he do?"
"Why," said Mr. Dacre slowly, "he could inform Bully Banjo, forinstance, that you have written to Washington and that the SecretService may start an investigation."
"Jove! That's so!" exclaimed the rancher. "But," he laughed lightly,"there's no fear of that. Fu is as honest as the day is long. Besides,he is in my debt. I, and some friends of mine, rescued him from a gangof white roughs, who had falsely accused him of a theft, and who weregoing to string him up."
"Just the same," said Mr. Dacre, "I have found it is a good rule totrust a Chinaman just as far as you can see him, and in most cases notso far as that. But, to return to Bully Banjo's reason for buoying hisanchor, it evidently means that he intends to come back here."
"Yes, and something else," said Mr. Chillingworth.
"What is that?"
"Why, that he just slipped in here to bury the dead in calm water. Thatoffice performed, he has evidently made off to some other point of thecoast to land his Chinamen."
This was admitted to be a plausible explanation.
While it was calm enough in the shelter of the point the loud roaring inthe pine tops, and the distant whitecaps showed that outside it wasstill rough. Too rough for the sloop to attempt the passage, Mr.Chillingworth declared. That being the case, it was decided to leave thesloop in the charge of Fu, and to set out overland for the ranch. Whenit grew calmer Fu would sail the sloop around to the waters off theranch.
In accordance with this decision, the sloop was sculled by Fu close inunder a ledge of rocks where there was deep water. The boys made thejump ashore with ease. It was then Mr. Dacre's turn. Although it hasbeen said that it was calm in the cove, there was still enough searunning to make the sloop quite lively, so jumping from her called forsome agility. Mr. Dacre essayed the leap just as a particularly big wavecame sliding under the little vessel. The consequent lurch upset hiscalculations and instead of landing cleanly on the rock he lost hisbalance, and would have fallen back into the water had not Tom seizedhim. In another instant Jack, too, had his uncle's arm.
In a minute they had him up on the rock, but instead of standingupright, Mr. Dacre, his face drawn with pain, and dotted with beads ofsweat, sank to the ground. It was apparent that he was suffering intensepain.
"Good gracious, Dacre, are you hurt?" asked Mr. Chillingworth, while thealarmed boys also poured out questions.
"It's--it's nothing," said Mr. Dacre, with a brave attempt at a carelesssmile. "An old fracture of my leg. I think----"
His head fell back and his lips went white. Had Tom not caught him hewould have fallen prone. Mr. Chillingworth was on the rocks in a boundas the lad's uncle lost his senses under the keen pain.
"Here, I'm a surgeon in a rough way," he said. "One has to be everythingout in this rough country. Let me have a look at that leg."
With a slash of his penknife, he had Mr. Dacre's trouser leg ripped openin an instant. He ran an experienced hand over the limb. "Hum," he said,his face growing serious, "an old fracture--broken again by that fall.Fu, get me the medicine chest out of the cabin."
The Chinaman, his face as stolid as ever, obeyed. Mr. Chillingworth tookfrom the mahogany box some bandages, and by the time he had done thisMr. Dacre's eyes were opened again.
"What's the verdict, Mr. Chillingworth?" he asked pluckily.
"Well, old man," was the rejoinder, "I don't know yet if it's a fractureor just a sprain. I hope it's the latter, and then we'll have you onyour feet in a few days. The first thing to be done is to get you backon board the sloop. I'll stay with you while these young men and Fu pushon to the ranch and get some remedies of which I will give them a list."
Mr. Dacre made a wry face.
"Is it as bad as that? I can't move?" he asked.
"Well, just you try it," said Mr. Chillingworth,--but one effort wasenough for the injured man.
"Well, Chillingworth, you've got a lame duck on your hands," he said.
"Nonsense, we'll soon have you all right again. Here, boys, you get holdof your uncle's head. Fu, place a mattress and some blankets on deckthere. I'll get hold of his feet. Don't move till I say so."
It was not an easy task to get Mr. Dacre back on board the sloop, but itwas accomplished at last without accident. He was then placed on themattress on deck and lay there stiller than the boys had ever seen hisactive form.
Mr. Chillingworth dived into the cabin. When he reappeared it was with apenciled list, which he handed to Tom.
"There," he said, "now that's done. Just hand that to my wife and she'llgive you the necessary things. By the way, don't breathe a word to herabout Bul
ly Banjo."
The boys promised not to mention the occurrences of the night. Soonafter, Fu was ready. He carried a small flour sack, with what provisionscould be spared over his shoulders. It was arranged that they were toget horses at the ranch and ride back to the sloop, using all the speedthey could. After bidding good-by to their injured uncle, and Mr.Chillingworth, the little party set out along the trail. Fu's bluebloused and loose trousered form slipped noiselessly along in front.Behind him toiled the boys. It did not seem more than a few secondsafter they had left the sloop that they were plunged into a thickforest. On every side--like the columns of a vast cathedral--shot up thereddish, smooth trunks of the great pines. Far above their dark topscould be caught occasional glimpses of the blue sky. The brush andvegetation were dense almost as in the tropics. There is a great deal ofrain in Washington, and the luxuriant growth is the result. Creepers,flowering shrubs, and big ferns were everywhere, walling in the trailwith an impenetrable maze of foliage.
Above them they could hear the wind blowing through the dark pines,roaring a deep, musical bass. But down on the trail it was stiflinglyhot. The heavy, sweet odor of the pines, rank and resinous waseverywhere. They plodded along in silence, always with that blue, silentfigure gliding along just ahead. It was curious that as Tom kept hiseyes riveted on the noiseless figure that Mr. Dacre's words should haverecurred to him with startling force:
"Trust a Chinaman only as far as you can see him, and in most cases notso far as that."
The Bungalow Boys in the Great Northwest Page 6
