AMONG THE ALLIGATORS.
A low, heavy mutter of thunder came booming through the hot, still air,and Fred Kinnersly looked up sharply from the potatoes he was peelingfor his solitary supper. "Another storm!" he growled. "Two alreadyto-day, and now a third. This is beyond a joke."
He dropped his knife, and walked outside, onto the veranda of thelittle two-roomed shack.
A huge blue-black cloud with hard, shell-like edges was rising over thepines in the northwest, and once again the air quivered and a spark ofelectric fire lit the heart of the great mountain of whirling vapor.
"Worst rains I've ever known," muttered Fred, "and this is my fifthsummer down south. We'll have the mine flooded if this goes on, and allthose niggers out of work." He paused; then: "Poor old Sam," he smiled."What an awful ducking he'll get coming home! Well, thank goodnessto-morrow's Saturday. This steamy heat is the very deuce to work in,and I'll be glad of the lay-off on Sunday.
He was turning to go back into the house, when the thud of hoofs far upthe track made him pause, and presently a pony shot into sight amongthe red pine trunks in the distance. Its rider, bending low in thesaddle, was sending the plucky little beast along at a furious gallop.
"Why, it's Jack Godfrey!" exclaimed Fred, in surprise. "Why on earth ishe in such a deuce of a hurry?"
The pony came tearing down the sandy track, sending spurts of wet sandand water flashing behind it. Next moment Jack Godfrey pulled up at thedoor and flung himself off the panting, sweating beast.
"What's up?" cried Fred Kinnersly. "You seem in a hurry."
"Is Sam French back yet?" gasped the other.
"No, of course not. He only left the mine after dinner. He generallygets back about ten. Why, what's the matter?" as he saw Godfrey's facego white under the tan.
"Ducane broke jail last night," said Godfrey hoarsely.
Kinnersly staggered. "Good heavens!" he muttered. "How?"
"Set fire to the place. He and his whole gang are out--five of them.They're armed, too. Word came to Orange Port two hours ago that they'draided Lopez's place early this morning, and left in the direction ofthe Big Cypress."
"Where's the sheriff?"
"On the wrong track. He thought they'd make for the sea, and he andhis posse went toward Wehila. Anderson, the deputy, has got three men,and is on his way round the north end of the Big Cypress. He told meto warn you, and to say that as the water's so high it'll probably bemidnight before he reaches Black Bayou."
Kinnersly was whiter than the other. The whole position was clear tohim.
In a few words it stood thus: He, Kinnersly, was sub-manager of the BigLone Pine Phosphate Mine, which lay about a mile from the edge of theswamp known as the Big Cypress. This swamp was twenty-five miles long,but not more than two to three wide.
On the other side of the swamp was Lakeville, the county town. It wasdistant from the mine seven miles, as the crow flies, and more thantwenty by road.
Every Friday afternoon Sam French, the manager of the mine, wentto Lakeville in his buggy, accompanied by one negro, to fetch thepay-money for the seventy hands employed in quarrying the phosphate.Sam was well known and popular.
But now--well, there was no one in South Florida who had not heard ofthe atrocities of Jean Ducane. The man was a mulatto, half French,half negro, who had come to Florida from New Orleans. He had once beenemployed in the Lone Pine Mine. Trouble began with his getting drunkand insulting Sam, who had promptly knocked him down, and next morningfired him.
Then Ducane had disappeared. A week later Sam French was shot at fromthe scrub. The mine-hands, who were fond of their manager, made theplace too hot to hold the would-be murderer, and the next heard ofDucane was down at Key West.
Escaping from Key West, the mulatto worked his way up the coast toTampa, where he burgled a bank. But even then he was not caught, andthe climax came when he returned to the neighborhood of Lakeville anddeliberately fired two houses in the suburbs, causing the death of awoman and two children. The whole neighborhood rose in arms. Ducane wascaught, and four negroes with him, and jailed with difficulty by thesheriff in the face of a mob yelling to lynch him.
And now this human wild beast was at large again, and both the youngfellows knew that the first thing he would do would be to hold up themanager of the Lone Pine Mine and rob and murder him.
"You see, it's not only revenge," said Kinnersly. "The money would meaneverything to him and his gang. All in silver, too!"
"And Sam knows nothing!" cried Godfrey. He pulled out his watch. "Whattime'll he be passing Black Bayou?"
"About eight, I should think."
"And it's nearly seven now," muttered Godfrey despairingly. "No horsecould do it in the time."
"You're sure it will be at Black Bayou?"
"Not a doubt of it. The place is made for a hold-up. Track narrow,thick bay scrub both sides, and there'll be water over the road there,so Sam'll have to walk his horse. It's a death-trap, Fred."
Fred Kinnersly set his teeth. "I'm going to warn him," he said quietly.
Godfrey started. "My dear chap, it's fourteen miles by road. Have youa horse here that can do fourteen miles in an hour over Florida sandand in this storm? Besides, you'd have to come through Black Bayouyourself, and get shot for your pains, to a dead certainty."
"There's another way," said Fred.
"Another way!"
"Across the swamp!"
Godfrey laughed harshly. "You're crazy, Fred."
"Did you ever hear of the Spanish Causeway?" asked Kinnersly quietly.
"That! In this weather! Man, it's under water! All of it. And rottenand broken. You couldn't do it in the dry season and in broad daylight.Listen!"
Again the cloud spat blue fire, and the thunder bellowed angrily overthe fast darkening forest.
Kinnersly's jaw hardened. "I'm going to try it. Anything's better thanthat Sam should be shot down and murdered."
"I tell you it's sheer lunacy. It'll be black dark in half an hour. Iwouldn't try it for ten thousand."
"You'll try it for Sam's life," said Kinnersly quietly.
Godfrey stared hard at the other. "You mean to go?"
"I do."
"All right. I'm your man."
In less than five minutes the two, heavily armed, were tramping rapidlyalong a narrow path which led down a long, gradual slope toward theswamp. By this time clouds had covered the sky and cut off the light ofthe setting sun. Faster and faster the lightning-flashes shot throughthe gloom, while the thunder crashed louder and louder till the veryground trembled beneath the reverberations.
Then came the rain in sheets, as if a cataract was falling on theforest. In a few moments the path was swimming. The men were ankle-deepin water, which foamed under the lash of the falling torrents.
They stumbled over twisted roots; long, pliant branches switched theirfaces; thorny creepers caught and tore their clothes and skin, whilenow and then the ominous folds of a water-moccasin could be seen in thetangled growth on either side the path.
But the two young men never faltered. Kinnersly leading, they pressedon in single file. The path grew narrower. Here and there Kinnersly wasforced to slash the tough creeper with his knife before he could forcea passage.
They were on the level now, and the water was nearly knee-deep. ToGodfrey, who had never before traveled this path, it was a marvel howKinnersly found his way.
Gigantic cypresses rose on either side, shutting off the last remnantsof light with their monstrous heads of matted foliage; long trails ofmelancholy Spanish moss brushed their faces, and the air was thick withthe pungent scent of palmetto bloom.
Slowly the storm died, passing away into the south, and as the rainceased the mosquitoes rose in stinging, humming swarms, and the noisesof the night swamp burst forth. Bullfrogs bellowed, tree-frogs bleatedlike lost lambs, crickets shrilled, and owls hooted.
Suddenly Kinnersly sank almost to his waist, but struggled up againimmediately. "Look out, Jack. A hole in the causeway," he said
quietly.
Godfrey felt the sucking mud beneath the water, and repressed a shiver.At every step the water seemed to deepen. "Shall we do it, Fred?" hemuttered.
"It's more open farther on," replied the other. "If the water'snot too deep we'll be all right. If it is, we must do a bit ofswimming--that's all."
Again they plunged on through the hot darkness. Water and air alikewere stagnant. The close steam of the swamp was suffocating, and thedarkness was so intense that Godfrey had to follow rather by sound thanby sight.
All of a sudden the bushes broke away. They were in the open once more.At that very moment the cloud broke, and the moon shone out clear. Thewhite light fell upon a sheet of water, a wide lagoon, which lay smoothas oil, bounded on every side by a black wall of swamp vegetation.
"This seems to be where we swim, Fred," said Godfrey quietly.
"No," replied Fred. "The causeway crosses, but it's out of sight belowthe water. Come on."
"Anything's better than those horrible bushes and creepers," saidGodfrey. He looked at his watch. "Fred, it's twenty to eight."
"We shall do it," was the confident reply. "It's easier going the farside." As he spoke, Kinnersly stepped out from the shore, and, feelinghis way cautiously, walked steadily out across the lake.
Here and there were ugly gaps, but, in the main, the ancient masonrybuilt for some unknown purpose by long-forgotten Spaniards was sound.Their spirits rose as they pressed on rapidly under the welcome lightof the full moon.
They were a couple of hundred yards from shore when, all of a sudden, ablack object, for all the world like a floating log, rose noiselesslyfrom the depths close on Kinnersly's right.
He stopped sharply, and Godfrey saw him draw his revolver from theholster at his waist.
Godfrey needed no telling. He knew the nature of the new peril whichconfronted them. An alligator!
Slowly, very slowly, the alligator rose till not only its great gnarledhead, but the whole of its long ridged back, was above the water.
"What a brute!" muttered Godfrey, instinctively drawing his bighunting-knife. "Get on, Fred. The alligator's coming closer."
"There's an ugly place just here," replied the other, and Godfreysaw his friend sink nearly to his shoulders, recover himself with aneffort, and scramble up the far side. "Wait; I'll help you, Jack," hesaid, turning.
He pulled his friend across the gap, and then as they both stood up onthe far side, in water hardly more than ankle-deep, a simultaneous gaspof horror burst from them both.
Three more alligators had appeared, and, even as they watched, more andmore of the hideous monsters rose in ominous silence above the quietwater and came gliding slowly onward toward the causeway.
Their cruel, unwinking eyes shone like green fire in the moon-rays, andthe breathless air was full of a sickening odor of musk. There weredozens of them; from huge, rugged veterans of ten or twelve feet andweighing perhaps half a ton, down to fierce, active, hungry six-footers.
For a moment the two young fellows stood hesitating, staringbreathlessly at the nightmare spectacle before them. Then Kinnerslydesperately cried: "Come on, Jack!"
"Shoot. Why don't you shoot?" exclaimed Godfrey.
"Not till I have to," replied Kinnersly. "Ducane may hear and suspect.If he does, he'll move farther up, and attack Sam before we can reachhim."
"But the brutes are closing in."
"Never mind. Come on. Keep close to me, and splash as much as you can."
Kinnersly walked forward. Even in the moonlight he could not see thecauseway so much as a step ahead. The thick brown swamp water hid itcompletely. And both he and Godfrey knew that one false step meant adeath almost too horrible for words. An alligator fears a man uprighton dry land, but in its native element it fears nothing, and will pulldown a dog, a horse, a man, or a bull.
Closer and closer the dreadful brutes closed in till their yard-longjaws actually rested upon the crumbling edges of the sunken causeway.
Now and then one would open his vast jaws and blow the air through hisnostrils with a noise like a giant snoring. Then the great yellow tuskswould clash together with a sharp, ringing sound horribly suggestive ofa steel trap closing.
Kinnersly, who was leading, found the water growing deeper.
"Is there a hole there?" cried Godfrey anxiously.
"Afraid there is, old man," replied Kinnersly, feeling cautiously withone foot. "We ought to have brought sticks."
"The 'gators are closing up behind," said Godfrey desperately. "We mustshove ahead at any price."
"Right; I have found bottom. Come on." Kinnersly dropped onto hisknees. Immediately the whole horde of alligators began moving up.Godfrey, following close behind his friend and splashing vigorously,could not repress a shiver of horror. "Quick!" he hissed; "quick, orthey'll have us."
At that very moment the surface of the water broke in front ofKinnersly, and out of the depths heaved itself up a nightmareapparition. An alligator, bigger than any they had seen yet--a gnarledand rugged monster of huge length and enormous girth.
Getting its short, thick forelegs onto the stonework, it hoisted itselfup, completely barring the way. Its cavernous mouth gaped open, showingrows of huge, twisted tusks, which could have bitten a bull in two.
Its fetid breath blew full in Kinnersly's face, nearly sickening himwith the horrible, putrefying stench.
"Shoot him!" shouted Godfrey. "The others are coming."
There was no help for it. Kinnersly thrust the muzzle of his pistolalmost between the yawning rows of teeth and pulled the trigger.
With the report the monstrous brute flung itself high into the air,and fell over sideways with a crash that sent a wave almost over theirheads. Next instant the placid water of the bayou was beaten intoshowers of spray, which gleamed silver in the brilliant moonlight.
Waves dashed over the causeway. The two men stood still, appalled atthe fearful death-struggles of the monster.
"Thank goodness, you got him that time!" exclaimed Godfrey, strugglingup out of the water onto firmer ground.
Another moment and all was clear. The great alligator had vanished, andwith him the others, frightened at the commotion, had gone, too.
"Now's our chance!" cried Kinnersly, and pushed on with reckless speed.
Fortunately, the rest of the causeway was unbroken, and they reachedthe far side of the lagoon in safety.
"They're coming up again," muttered Godfrey, glancing back.
"Never mind. They can't hurt us now," cried the other.
They were in the brush again, plunging in the mud under the thickshadows of the cypress. Neither spoke. It was very near eight, and eachmoment they expected to hear shots. Both dreaded they might be too late.
On they rushed, now waist-deep in a morass of mud and rottingvegetation, now struggling through a tangle of wild grape and bamboovine.
At last, after what seemed an endless time, the footing grew firmer andthe ground began to rise. The cypress and palmetto gave place to pineand wire grass.
"We're close to the road," muttered Kinnersly breathlessly. "And I onlyhope Sam hasn't passed."
"Listen!" hissed the other, pulling up short. "Yes, I hear horses'feet."
Once more they both rushed forward. The hoof-sounds grew plainer, andthe red glow of a cigar shone through the pine trunks.
Kinnersly flung himself recklessly into the open. "Sam, is that you?"he hissed desperately.
There was a sharp exclamation. "Who's that?"
"I--Kinnersly. Stop!"
The buggy came to a standstill, and Kinnersly panted out hisexplanation.
"You came through the swamp!" exclaimed French, as if he could notbelieve his ears.
"Yes, but don't you understand? Ducane's loose."
"Oh, that's all right," said the other coolly. "He'll be down in BlackBayou, half a mile away. What fazes me is how you chaps came along thecauseway. It was mighty white of you, and I'm real grateful. Jump in,an' let's git along an' interview this here Ducane."
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For the life of him Kinnersly could not help laughing. "Sam, don't be afool! There are probably five of them, and you bet they'll be lying upin the timber. The first you know will be they've shot you."
"I reckon not," returned French, as coolly as before. "It's going tocost me a horse, but that's a sight cheaper'n a thousand dollars inUnited States currency. Get right in, boys. I've got it all plannedinside here," touching the top of his head.
With a shrug of his broad shoulders, Kinnersly obeyed, and Godfreyfollowed.
"Get your shooting-irons ready," said Sam, in a low voice, at the sametime throwing away his cigar. "Now, don't say a word, any of you, ormake any noise."
He drove on till the ground dipped again and the narrow road descendedtoward the gloomy shadow of a thicket of bays. Then he pulled up, gotout, and motioned to the others to do the same.
He took out the bags of coin, propped a cushion on the seat with a coatover it, tied the reins to the splash-board, and clucked to the horseto go on.
Kinnersly chuckled silently. "I see now," he whispered.
"Glad o' that," remarked Sam. "Now we'll keep along in the bushes a bitbehind the wagon. You come along with me, Kinnersly, an', Godfrey, youtake the nigger. I don't need to tell you to shoot straight when thechance comes."
The horse went splashing slowly through the water, here about a footdeep. The four men stole noiselessly along through the bushes on eitherside.
They had gone perhaps a hundred yards, and reached the bottom of thehollow, where the water was axle-deep, when suddenly a rifle crashed,and a spit of fire flashed from the bushes to the right.
"Got him," came a shout, and men came plunging out of the scrub andsurrounded the wagon.
"Now, lads!" came a crisp command from French, and at the word fourweapons spoke simultaneously.
Three of the robbers dropped in their tracks. The other two stooddumfounded, unable to imagine whence the sudden attack had come.
Then one of them--Ducane himself--gave a yell of defiance, and camecharging furiously toward French's party, firing as he ran.
A bullet whipped Kinnersly's hat from his head. Then a second volleyrang out, and Ducane flung up his hands, and, without a sound, fellover on his back. The fifth man ran for his life.
French walked up to the spot where Ducane's body floated.
A patch of white moonlight fell full on the twisted yellow face, andshowed a red hole in the very center of the forehead.
"Saved the hangman a job," he said quietly. "Now I reckon we'll walkback to Lakeville, if these other wounded rascals can do the trick.We'll go to the hotel, and the supper's on me to-night, boys."
Motor Matt's Daring; or, True to His Friends Page 20
