Blue Envelope

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER II

  A BOLD STROKE REWARDED

  Bacon grease was spilled and toast burned in the preparation ofbreakfast, which was devoured in gulps. Then, with some misgivings butmuch determination, the two girls hurried away up the beach in thedirection from whence had come the pop-popping of their stolenmotorboat.

  Coming at last to the place where sandy shore was replaced by raggedbowlders, they began making their way through the tangled mass ofunderbrush, fallen tree-trunks and ferns, across the point of landwhich cut them off from the next sandy beach.

  "This would be splendid if it wasn't so serious," said Marian as theyreached the crest of the ridge and prepared to descend. "I always didlike rummaging about in an unexplored wilderness. Look at that fallenyellow-pine; eight feet through if it is an inch; and the ferns arealmost tall enough to hide it. And look at those tamaracks down inthat gully; they look like black knights. Wouldn't they make apicture?"

  "Not just now; come on," exclaimed Lucile, who was weary of battlingwith the jungle. "Let's get down to the beach and see what's there.There's a long stretch of beach, I think, maybe half a mile. But wemust be careful how we make our way down. We might discoversomething--and we might be discovered first."

  To descend a rock-ribbed hill, overgrown with tangled underbrush andburied in decaying tree-trunks, is hardly easier than to ascend it.Both girls were thoroughly out of breath as they finally parted thebranches of a fir tree and peered through to where the beach, a yellowribbon of sand, circled away to the north.

  "Not there," whispered Marian.

  Lucile gripped her cousin's arm.

  "What's that thing two-thirds of the way down, at the water's edge?"

  "Don't know. Rock maybe. Anyway, it's not our motorboat."

  "No, it's not. It's worth looking into, though. Let's go."

  Eagerly they hurried along over the hard-packed sand. The tide wasebbing; the beach was like a floor. Their steps quickened as theyapproached the object. At last, less than half-conscious of what theywere doing, they broke into a run. The thing they had seen was a boat.And a boat to persons in their position was a thing to be prized.

  Arrived at its side, they looked it over for a moment in silence.

  "It's pretty poor and very heavy, but it will float, I think," wasMarian's first comment.

  "It's theirs. Thought it wasn't worth risking a stop for."

  "But how did they get into our camp? We haven't seen their tracksthrough the brush."

  "Probably took up one small stream and down another."

  The boat they had found was a wide, heavy, flat-bottomed affair, such acraft as is used by fishermen in tending pond-nets.

  For a time the two girls stood there undecided. The chances of theirrecovering the motorboat seemed very poor indeed. To go forward inthis heavy boat meant hours of hand-blistering rowing to bring themback to camp. Yet the thought of returning to tell Lucile's brotherthat they had lost his motorboat was disheartening. To go on seemeddangerous. True, they had rifles but they were, after all, but twogirls against three rough men. In spite of all this, they decided inthe end to go on. Pushing the boat into the sea they rowed out a fewfathoms, then set the sail and bore away before the brisk breeze. Thefact that the oar-locks, which were mere wooden pegs, were worn smoothand shiny, told that the boat had not been long unused.

  In a short time they found themselves well out from shore in a gentlyrippling sea, while the point, behind which lay their camp, grewsmaller and smaller in the distance.

  Presently they cleared a wooded point of land and came in view of ashort line of beach. Deep set in a narrow bay, it might have escapedthe eye of a less observant person than Marian; so, too, might thewhite speck that shone from the brown surface of that beach.

  "What's that in the center?" she mumbled, reaching for the binocularsby her side. "It's our schooner," she exclaimed after a moment'ssurvey. "Yes, sir, it is! Anyway, it's a motor-boat, and if not ours,whose then?"

  "We'd better pull in behind the point, drag our boat up on the rocksand come round by land," whispered Lucile.

  "Yes, if we dare," said Marian, overcome for a moment with fear. "Ifthey have seen us and come out to meet us, what then?"

  "I hardly think they'd see us without a field glass," said Lucile.

  Bending to the oars they set their boat cutting across the waveletsthat increased in size with the rising wind.

  Ten minutes of hard pulling brought their boat in behind the point,where it was quieter water and better rowing. This took them to aposition quite out of sight of the white spot on the distant beach. Ifthe pirate robbers were truly located in the bay and had not seen thegirls they were safe to steal up close.

  "Well, suppose they have. If the worst comes to the worst we canescape into the brush," said Marian. "We won't be worse off then thanwe are now."

  "If only we can catch them off guard and get away with our motorboat!"said Lucile fervently.

  Two hours of fighting the wilderness brought them at last to thebeginning of the short, sandy beach. By peering through the branchesthey discovered that a clump of young tamaracks, growing close down tothe shore, still hid the white spot they had taken for their boat.

  Lucile stepped out upon the sand, then bent down to examine afootprint. Quickly she dodged back into the brush.

  "They're here, all right," she whispered. "That's the track of thefellow with the mis-mate feet."

  "Listen!" said Marian.

  "Sounds like shouting," said Lucile, after a moment's silence.

  "What do you suppose?"

  "We'd better move around to a better position."

  Cautiously they worked their way through the dense undergrowth.Pausing now and again to listen, they laid their course by the sounds.These sounds resolved themselves into bursts of song and boisterouslaughter.

  "They're drinking," said Lucile with a shudder.

  "If they are, we daren't get near them," whispered Marian.

  Closer and closer they crept until at last they expected at any momentto come into view of the camp.

  "It's no use," said Lucile at last, shrinking back into the brush. "Ican't go on. They're drunk, and all drunken men are dangerous. It isno use risking too much for a motorboat."

  Wearily then they made their way back through the brush. So sore weretheir muscles by this time that every step gave them pain. Missingtheir way, they came out upon the beach a hundred yards from theirboat. There, behind the sheltering boughs of a dwarf fir tree theythrew themselves upon the bed of pine needles to rest.

  "Look!" exclaimed Lucile suddenly. "What's that out there?"

  "Our motorboat," Marian gasped. "It's broken loose and is going outwith the tide. They must not have seen it. Quick! Our rowboat! Wemay beat them yet!"

  With wildly beating hearts they raced up the beach. Having reached theheavy rowboat they pushed it off. Wading knee-deep in the sea to givethe boat a good start, they at last leaped to their seats and graspedthe oars, and with strong, deft, strokes set her cutting the water.Length by length they lessened the distance between them and thedrifting prize.

  Now they were two hundred yards away, now one hundred, now fifty, now--

  There came a shout from the shore. With a quick glance over hershoulder Lucile took in the situation.

  "We'll make it," she breathed. "Pull hard. They're a long way off."

  Moments seemed hours as they strained at the oars, but at last theybumped the side of the motorboat and the next second found themselveson board.

  Marian clung to the tiller of the rowboat while she swung round to thewheel. Lucile gave the motor a turn and to their great joy the noblelittle engine responded with a pop-pop-pop.

  There came another shout, a hopeless one, from the robbers.

  "We beat them. We--" Marian broke short off. "Look, Lucile. Lookover there!"

  To the right of them, bobbing up and down as they had seen it oncebefore, was the head of the
strange brown boy.

  "Do you suppose they did kidnap him?" said Lucile.

  "We can go by where he is," said Marian. "They can't catch us now."

  The boat swung round and soon they were beside the swimmer.

  "Look," cried Lucile, "his feet are tied tightly together! He mustn'thave been their friend. They carried him off. They had him bound andhe rolled down to the beach to escape by swimming."

  They dragged the boy on board. Then they were away again, full speedonce more.

  "Well, that's done," sighed Lucile, as she settled herself at thewheel. "They've our rowboat and we have theirs. I hope that afterthis they will let us alone."

  "The person who is bothering me," said Marian with a frown, "is thislittle brown visitor of ours. Who is he? Where did he come from?Where does he want to go? Where should he go? What are we going to dowith him?"

  "That," said Lucile, wrinkling her brow, "is more than I know. Neitherdo I know how those men came to steal him. They probably kidnapped himfrom his home, wherever that is, and have been making a slave of him."

  "I think you are right," said Marian, "and probably the problem willsolve itself in time."

  The problem did solve itself, at least part of it, that very night; theremaining part of the problem was to be solved months later underconditions so strange that, had the girls been able to vision themlying away, like a mirage on the horizon of the future, they would havebeen tempted to change their plans for the year just before them.

  The first question, what was to be done with the little brown stranger,was solved that night. He solved it himself. The girls had decidedupon maintaining a watch. Lucile was on the second watch at somethinglike one o'clock in the morning, when she saw the brown boy stirring inhis place by the fire. She was seated far back in the shadowy depthsof the tent with a rifle across her knee. He could not see her, thoughshe could catch his every move in the moonlight.

  With a gliding motion he carried his two blankets to a shadowy spot andthere folded each one, laying one upon the other. He then proceeded togather up certain articles about camp. A small ax, a knife, fishingtackle and matches were hurriedly thrown upon the blanket. Now andagain, like some wild thing of the forest, he paused to cock his headto one side and listen.

  "Should I call Marian and stop him?" Lucile asked herself. Thequestion was left all undecided. The little drama being enacted wastoo fascinating to suffer interruption. It was like something that hadhappened in her earlier childhood when she had lain in a garretwatching a mother mouse carry away her five children, Lucile therebysuffering a loss of six cents, for she would have been paid a centapiece for the capture of those mice.

  The brown boy next approached the kitchen tent. He entered, to appeara moment later with a modest armload of provisions.

  When these had been placed on the blanket, with marvelous speed andskill he converted the whole into a convenient pack.

  "Shall I stop him?" Lucile asked herself.

  She was about to call out from her dark corner, when a peculiar actionof the boy arrested her. He appeared to be taking some small objectfrom beneath the collar of his strange suit of bird-skin.

  "I wonder what it is?" she puzzled.

  Whatever it was, he walked with it to a broad, flat rock, and placingit in the very center, turned and left it there. The object gave forthsuch a startling lustre in the moonlight, and Lucile was so intent uponwatching it, she did not realize that the brown boy had thrown his packover his shoulder and disappeared into the woods.

  When she did discover it, she merely shrugged her shoulders and smiled:

  "Probably for the best," she told herself. "He's taken nothing of anygreat value and nothing we will need badly, and, unless I miss myguess, he'll be quite able to take care of himself in a wood that isfull of game and berries and where there are fish for throwing in thehook. Let's see what he left, though."

  Cautiously she crept out into the moonlight. A low exclamation escapedher lips as her hand closed upon the glistening object. As sheexamined it closely, she found it to be three teeth, apparently elkteeth. They were held together with a plain leather thong, but set inthe center of each was a ring of blue jade and in the center of each oftwo of the rings was a large pearl. The center of the third was beyonddoubt a crudely cut diamond of about two carats weight. Lucile turnedit over and over in her palm.

  "Why, the poor fellow," she murmured. "He's given us a king's ransomfor a few trinkets and a little food! And I thought he was stealing,"she reproached herself.

  Her first instinct was to attempt to call him back. "But," she toldherself, "my voice would not carry far in that dense woods. Besides,he wouldn't understand me and would only be frightened."

  Returning to her tent, she hid the strange bit of jewelry, which, toits wearer, had doubtless been a charm, then waited the end of herwatch to tell of the strange occurrence to her cousin. When Marianawoke Lucile told her story.

  Together, in that early hour of the morning, they exclaimed over therare treasure that had come into their hands; together agreed that,somehow, it must be returned to the original owner, and at last, aftermuch talk on the subject, agreed that, on the whole, the departure ofthe brown boy reduced the possible complications to a considerabledegree.

  Next day their aunt arrived and with her a school-teacher friend. Withtheir forces increased by two the girls were not afraid to maintaintheir camp. In fear of the return of the robbers they established anightly watch. That this fear was not unfounded was proved by theevents of the third night of vigil. It was again in the early morningwhen Marian was on guard, that heavy footsteps could be heard in theunderbrush about the camp.

  She had left the tent flap open, commanding a view of the shore line.The gasoline schooner lay high and dry on the sandy beach, within herline of vision. This she watched carefully. A man who dared touchthat boat was in danger of his life, for a rifle lay across her kneesand, with the native hardihood of an Alaskan, she would not fail toshoot quick and sure.

  But the man did not approach the boat. He merely prowled about thetents as if seeking information. Marian caught one glimpse of him overthe cooking tent. Though he was gone in an instant, she recognized himas one of the men who had stolen their motorboat.

  After a time his footsteps sounded far down the beach. Nothing morewas heard from him.

  "Guess he was looking for the brown boy, but became satisfied that hewas not here," explained Marian next morning.

  "Perhaps they'll let us alone after this," said Lucile.

  This prophecy came to pass. After a few nights the vigil was droppedand the remaining days on the island were given over to the pleasuresof camp life.

  The discovery of a freshly abandoned fire on the beach some miles fromcamp proved that Lucile's belief that the brown boy could take care ofhimself was well founded. His footprints were all about in the sand.Feathers of a wild duck and the heads of three good-sized fishes showedthat he had fared well.

  "We'll meet him again somewhere, I am sure," said Lucile withconviction, "and until we do, I shall carry his little present as asort of talisman."

  The weeks passed all too quickly. One day, with many regrets, theypacked their camp-kit in the motorboat and went pop-popping to Lucile'shome.

  Three weeks later saw them aboard the steamship _Torentia_ bound forCape Prince of Wales by way of Nome. They were entering upon a new andadventure-filled life. This journey, though they little guessed it,brought them some two thousand miles nearer the spot where, once againunder the strangest of circumstances, they were to meet the brown boywho had come swimming to them from the ocean.