CHAPTER XV
THE WHOLE BAG OF GAME
THE daring quality of the idea made Tom Halstead tremulous.
He longed to return to the head of Lake Okeechobee with such a “noble”bag of game. Yet he was able to realize the risk that attended any suchattempt.
“In reaching out for just one more,” he told himself, palpitatingly, “Imay lose the whole lot. Sim will be unquestionably the hardest of thecrowd to subdue. No, no; I reckon I’d better be content with my goodluck up to date.”
Deciding thus, reluctantly, the young motor boat skipper prepared tocast off. It was his intention to get clear of the land by some littlemargin, then to start his gasoline motor with the least possible delay.He knew well enough that if Sim heard the motor going that big fellowwas likely to come down to the water on the run.
“I’ve got all the menagerie I can train on the way back, anyway,”muttered the boy, dryly.
Just at that moment he heard someone come, crashingly, through thejungle.
“Jupiter! I’ve got to get that last one, or lose all I’ve got—my ownliberty included!” flashed through the boy’s mind.
There was no help for it. Secretly half-glad, in his craze for moreadventure, Tom stole swiftly, softly, across the open space.
“Now, you-all——” began Sim, in his loudest voice.
Just at that instant he stepped out of the jungle, then stopped,staring with all his might.
Right in front of him crouched young Halstead. Sim was looking downinto the muzzle of the hunting rifle. To him it looked, just then, likethe bore of a tunnel.
“Wha—wha—what?” exploded Sim.
“You guessed right, the first time,” mocked Tom Halstead. “It’s mymove, now, not yours. Are you going to be troublesome?”
“Put down that gun, an’ I’ll talk with yo’,” proposed Sim, hesitatingly.
“Instead, you put your hands up!” rang Halstead’s crisp command.
“I——”
“If you don’t——”
Tom backed three feet away, his eye looming up large as Sim caught aglimpse of it through the rifle-sights.
“You’re going to be good, aren’t you?” coaxed Tom, grimly. “If you are,you’ve only two seconds to decide. If you’re not——”
“I Reckon I’ll Play; Show Me the Game.”]
“I reckon I’ll play,” admitted Sim, hoarsely. “Show me how the gamegoes.”
“Keep your hands up, and march, slowly, right on towards the boat,”responded Tom Halstead. “Be ready for the word to halt, and do it theinstant you hear me say so. If you try any tricks—but you won’t!”
“No,” promised Sim; “I won’t.”
“March, then—slowly.”
Sim obeyed, also stopping when told. He lay down, with a dismal sigh,crossing his hands behind his back, just as told. From the boat camethe sound of remonstrating kicks, the only method of communication thatwas left to Sim’s own people.
“It may strike you,” suggested Halstead, “that it will be an easy trickto turn and grapple with me when I get my hands on the cord. If you tryit you’re pretty likely to find that I’m prepared for you. You won’thave even a fighting chance.”
Kneeling on the back of the prostrate Sim the young skipper placed therifle so that the muzzle rested against the back of the fellow’s head.
“You see what will happen, if you make a move,” proposed the boy.
“I reckon I ain’t gwine to,” observed Sim, huskily.
“Wise man! Now——!”
Tom Halstead slipped a noose over those crossed hands. Then with thespeed and skill of the sailor he rapidly crossed and wound, until hehad Sim’s hands very securely fastened. The knots were cleverly madefast in place. Few people except sailors can tie knots the way this boytied them.
“Now, lie quiet just long enough for me to put a mild tackle on yourankles,” admonished the young skipper.
When this was done he helped Sim to his feet.
“You can get into the boat, now,” suggested Halstead.
“See here, boy, yo’ can’t git far away from heah afo’ some o’ mymen git after yo’. Take yo’ ole boat, an’ leave me heah. That’s thesmartest way, I asshuah yo’.”
“Get into the boat,” ordered Tom, sternly. “I’ll help you as soon asit’s necessary.”
When Sim got near enough to the gunwale to see the others so neatlystacked away he flew into a rage.
“Ef I done know yo’ had the others like that,” he stormed, “I’d haveseen yo’ further afo’ I——”
“Get into the boat,” interrupted Halstead, pressing the muzzle of thehunting rifle against Sim’s back. “Now, over you go, with my help.”
Sim was talking in a picturesque way by this time, but Halstead,ignoring him, stacked him away with his comrades in the bow of theboat. Then, still gripping the rifle, the motor boat boy stepped aft,and started the motor. As soon an this was running smoothly, Halsteadraised his voice, calling:
“I don’t doubt that you fellows will soon feel tempted to squirm aboutand try to free yourselves. You don’t know me, and might not believeme, so, if I see any signs of trouble, I’ll have to let this rifle domy talking. If you doubt me, then try it on!”
Sim was the only one who could speak; he was too disgusted and wrathfulto feel like saying a word.
Captain Tom swung on slow speed, guiding the boat by the rudder linethat passed aft from the steering wheel.
Not knowing the waters here in the Everglades, and their almost inkyblackness, under the shadows of the trees, concealing the depths, hewas forced to go slowly.
All the while, too, with the rifle ready at hand, he had to keep asharp lookout over the men stacked forward like so many logs. Theirjudgment, however, did not prompt them to move.
It seemed like ages to the boy ere he got clear of the Everglades. Hethought he was following the route by which they had entered, yet hisonly general guide was to keep to a northerly course.
At last he saw the open waters of Lake Okeechobee ahead. As he drovethe boat out into broader, deeper waters, a prayer of thankfulness wentup from the boy.
Once in the lake, he crowded on speed, and was presently running at thefull power of the little engine. Even if he could keep this gait, hehad more than a three hours’ trip ahead of him.
Now, however, after he had the motor running to suit him, he was freeto give practically all of his attention to his “passengers” on thisunique trip.
“I feel like complimenting you on your fine order up forward,” chuckledthe boy. “It may interest you to know that I am keeping my eye on thelot of you all the time.”
Sim’s answer wouldn’t be worth repeating. Not one of the “passengers”lay so that he could look aft, a very decided advantage for the youngskipper.
It was a fearfully long run. Late in the afternoon Halstead caught hisfirst glimpse of Tremaine’s bungalow at the head of the lake.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, now,” he glowed. “Won’t there be funwhen I show my load!”
A few minutes later he made out figures of people running out of thebungalow. Plainly they had a glass, and were using it, for presentlyTom saw them waving their arms wildly toward him.
“There’s more than our own party there,” muttered the boy, with a throbof gratitude. “That surely means they’ve been organizing an expeditionto hunt for me.”
Just as soon as he was near enough, Halstead sounded several blastslustily on the whistle. There was more waving of arms from the crowdbefore the bungalow. Halstead fancied he caught the faintest sound ofdistant cheering. Bye-and-bye he was sure of it. Now, it was a duetbetween whistles and cheers. Joe, Jeff and Henry Tremaine were leadingthe others in a mad scramble to the end of the pier.
Then, with a final, long blast from the whistle, Tom Halstead ran inclose, rising as he did so.
Putting both hands to his mouth, Skipper Tom shouted:
“Here, you, Ham!”
“Yassuh!” s
houted Mockus, dancing two or three reel steps.
“This is your especial treat! Hog the first look for yourself. I’mbringing you, tied hand and foot, the Ghost of Alligator Swamp!”
The Motor Boat Club in Florida; or, Laying the Ghost of Alligator Swamp Page 15
