The Ranger Boys Outwit the Timber Thieves

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE CAPTURE

  We left Garry, Phil and Howells with the squatter king on the lake shorewaiting for darkness. When it fell, they retrieved the canoe from itshiding place and started across the timberland to Dutton Lake. The tripoccupied nearly three hours, although they made excellent speed.

  The faint light of the stars pierced the blackness of the forest, sothey did not have to stumble along, although the greatest of caution wasexercised every moment.

  They reached the lake without encountering a person, and then launchedthe canoe. They did not dare trust the weight of the four to the frailcraft, and so it was planned that King and Phil should remain behind,while Art and Garry paddled out into the lake. They did not have to waita great while until the chugging of the powerful engine in the motorboat was heard.

  Paddling with the noiseless stroke of the Indians, they followed after areasonable time had elapsed. They had taken only a few strokes when Artwhispered:

  "Here, we're going at this thing wrong. When that raft is loaded andstarts back across the water, it will make too much speed for us tofollow. Suppose we start now for the other side of the lake. Then we canlie off shore and wait for its arrival and see who meets the raft tounload it. That will complete your evidence, and we'll duck out for thecamp and somehow get hold of Dick. What say?"

  Without a word, Garry, who was paddling stern, gave his paddle a twistand the canoe turned in its course. They reached the other side and thenlay off shore as agreed, giving the paddles an occasional twist to keepthe canoe from drifting, for a gentle breeze was stirring the lake.

  After a long wait they heard the approach of the motor boat, which, aswas customary, was running without lights. Far down the shore they saw alight appear as though some one were flashing a lamp. It was probably toguide the boat to its destination in the darkness. When the boat reachedits objective point, they paddled noiselessly to within a few feet ofit, and beached the canoe. Walking with the stealth of Indians, theycame close to where the boat was being unloaded.

  "By jove, I know that voice," whispered Garry, as he heard a man ask:

  "So this is how the trick is done? Pretty clever, I call it. Steal thetimber and then raft it across to where you have your trucks waiting andhustle it to the railroad spur. Mighty good work on the part of Barrows.

  "That's Carson himself; used to be associated with Father," whisperedGarry. He and Howells were hiding back of a tree, well away from dangerof being seen. At that moment Carson struck a match to light his pipe.

  "Get a good look at him, we will want to identify him in court ifnecessary," said Garry. Howells nudged him to make him understand thathe had done so.

  "Now wait here," whispered Garry. Howells watched in amazement as Garrycrept to the water's edge and noiselessly waded in. He made no sound ashe swam. When he came back, dripping wet, Howells wanted to ask a scoreof questions, but forebore for fear of being heard.

  He was about to come closer and whisper, when a form crept up to themand a low voice said:

  "So we meet again."

  It was Baptiste LeBlanc. The Frenchman then lifted his voice and calledfor the others. But he did not get very far. Howells struck with all hisstrength and his hard knuckles took the halfbreed on the point of thejaw. LeBlanc dropped like a stone.

  "Come, Garry, this way quick," called Art. There was no need ofwhispering now, for the men who had been unloading had heard the alarmand there was the sound of rushing feet.

  "Into the canoe, Art. They can't follow us," said Garry.

  Howells had intended a dash into the woods, where there was lesslikelihood of being caught, but he obeyed Garry, knowing that he hadsome plan in view. They pushed the canoe into the water, springing intoit as they did. It was lucky that Howells was an experienced canoeist,else the frail boat would have been overturned. As it was, they got agood start, and in a moment were bending to their paddles with all theirmight and strength.

  "What's to stop them following us in the motor boat? We should havetaken to the woods," remonstrated Art.

  "Faster, I'll tell you later," answered Garry breathlessly. At thatminute they heard loud imprecations from the shore.

  By this time they were well away from shore and out of danger of apossible shot.

  Garry began to laugh.

  "No wonder they are shouting and cursing there. I swam to the boat thattime I left you and cut the wires on the engine; and to be sure, I tookout the spark plugs, and have them in my pocket. It will be some timebefore they get that boat into condition to chase us!"

  "Good boy," said Art admiringly.

  The return across the lake was without eventful occurrence, however, forwith them was the hermit.

  Garry greeted him warmly. "What news?" he asked.

  "I fear I am the bearer of bad news," said the hermit.

  "Your father has come to the camp and been caught, so I judge from whatI heard said by two men a while ago as I lay close to the road thatleads here. Also many of the lumberjacks are kept captive in one of theshacks, and a heavy guard has been set over them. I think we had bettergo for help; we can't battle them alone, our numbers are too few."

  Garry was for going at once to the rescue of his father, but the othersrestrained him.

  "We can't do anything there, and we can be of great help on the outside.There is a sheriff in town, and we can get word to him, and have himround up a posse sufficiently large to capture the whole outfit,"advised Art.

  Reluctantly Garry agreed that this was the wisest thing to do.

  "King, guide us around so that we can avoid the camp, but get to theroad that leads to town. We'll get a posse and give them a battle,"directed Garry.

  Without a word, King led the way, and the others followed.

  * * * * *

  In the meantime, Mr. Boone and Dick had been led from the storehouse andtaken to the bunkhouse, where the rest of the prisoners were.

  There were shouts of welcome when some of the old woodsmen saw Mr.Boone. Although he was the owner of the timber tract, and theiremployer, they hailed him as "Moose" and shook his hand energetically.

  "By gosh. I'm ashamed to look you in the face, Moose," cried one of thelumberjacks. "To think we let a bunch like that crowd outside there putit over on us; men that have fought with rifle and peavy stick when somecrowd tried to steal the river from us. Gosh, if we had a few axes andpeavy sticks now we could get out there and make that bunch look sick,but all have rifles and revolvers. Barrows must've had a regular armorywith him."

  They were still talking and trying without success to puzzle a way outof their predicament, when Dick gave a shout of joy.

  "There's my knapsack. That lets me see light right now!"

  The men looked at him in astonishment. How a mere knapsack could helpthem was not to be understood.

  "That was chucked in here by one of the men yesterday, before we werecaptured. He saw it in the shack, and remembering it belonged to one ofyou, took it for safe keeping. It was Tom there, who brought it."

  Tom was the man who had taken them on the coon hunt, and one they hadbeen suspicious of, but here he was with the loyal men.

  Dick hurriedly opened the knapsack. Yes, there it was, safe and sound,the wireless outfit!

  "Now one of you fellows get up there and dig a hole in the roof; it onlyneed be a small one, that I can slide this aerial up through. It oughtnot to take more than an hour."

  "We haven't any knife," said one of the men. "They took away all ourknives and matches from us."

  Dick secured his knife from its secret pocket in the lapel, and handedit to one of the men.

  "One of you set to work, and the others keep talking so that the guardsoutside will not become suspicious and look in here."

  "Are you going to try something with the radio-phone," asked Mr. Boone,who was the only one who grasped what Dick's intentions were.

  "Yes; it's our only chance. I happened to notice that there were
twoaerials over houses in the last town we passed through before coming tothe camp, and I saw some radio apparatus in a store window, so evidentlysome one there has an outfit. Fortunately I have the receiving apparatushere as well as a sender, and we can find out if my message is receivedby anyone."

  As he talked, he adjusted the apparatus, ready to send his plea for helpthrough space and hope that someone would be listening in.

  "Hurry!" he called to the man who was boring through the board roof withthe knife. "It's almost time for the usual radio broadcasting stationsto stop sending, and I want to get someone while they are stilllistening in, just as the broadcasting station closes."

  "There, guess that's all right, unless you want it a little bigger,"said the man who had been working.

  Dick looked up at the hole and saw that it would do all right.

  Most of the men were frankly incredulous. The thought of talking througha 'phone that had no wires was a riddle to them, as few or none of themknew anything about radio.

  One of them suggested that instead of wasting time with such a "foolcontrivance," they try to tear away the boards from the roof and take achance on overpowering the guards. This was discouraged by the otherswho, though they were by no means cowardly, knew it would be foolhardyto face guns with only their bare hands.

  "Let's give the boy a chance with his infernal machine first," advised agrizzled old lumberjack. "Then if it don't work, we can try somethingelse."

  Dick adjusted the aerial, and then tuning up, got ready to talk into thetransmitter.

  "Some of you men keep talking over there by the door, and the rest ofyou get near the windows and block anyone from seeing in. Don't talk tooloud, just enough to cover my voice."

  For nearly ten minutes Dick repeated over and over again:

  "S. O. S. Send a sheriff with large posse to Boone's camp. Owner andsome of men held prisoners. Answer if you get message."

  Then there was a crackling sound in the receivers that were clasped tohis head, and with a thrill he knew that someone was trying to get him.

  He adjusted the tuning apparatus with trembling fingers. The voice stillsputtered and crackled. Finally he got the right wave length, and hearda welcome voice.

  "Hello, are you sending help call?"

  "Yes," almost shouted Dick. "Who are you?"

  "Brown talking. My father is sheriff. Are you in earnest?"

  "Yes, surely. Hurry posse on way. You'll need thirty or forty men. Weare held prisoners in bunkhouse here. Captors are all armed. Be careful.This is last call; act quick, as I'm going to pack up radio for fear Iwill be discovered and apparatus broken. Goodnight."

  "Going for Dad now, goodnight," came the voice. There was a sputter,then silence.

  Dick turned to the men, his face gleaming with pleasure.

  "There will be a posse on the way in a short time. The radio worked," heannounced.

  The little group of men burst into a cheer and were silenced only by thethreat of the guards outside to come in and make them stop.

  Feeling that they had done all that could be done, they prepared to turnin and wait the coming of the morn with its posse headed by SheriffBrown.

  The men rolled in, but Dick was too excited to sleep, and he told Mr.Boone, in a low tone, of all that had transpired since they had reachedthe camp. Of course he was unable to tell of the way in which the timberwas stolen, as he had not seen his chums when they returned from theirexpedition that night he was captured.

  Mr. Boone was silent for some few minutes after Dick had concluded histalk. He was worried about Garry and Phil, and Dick, noting his silence,asked him what the trouble was.

  When he found the reason for Mr. Boone's worry, he endeavored to cheerhim up.

  "The chances are that they have not fallen into the hands of anyone atthe camp here, else they would have been brought here with us. I amcertain that they have discovered some clue and are following it up.Very likely they are searching for me, as they of course do not know Iam here."

  Being ignorant of all that had transpired, Dick did not know how near atthat moment his chums were.

  As they talked, they were being guided towards the road by King. It wasnecessary to make a wide detour in order to avoid running into a straymember of the camp traitors' party.

  Garry was well satisfied with part of the night's work. In the firstplace, he had proof that Carson, his father's business enemy, was at thebottom of the whole mess, and in the second place, he felt that he hadso effectively disabled the motor launch that no more timber would bestolen that night. By the next day, he expected to have the whole gangrounded up.

  They finally reached the road, and were half way to the town, when theyheard the sound of what they thought was a large auto truck comingtowards them.

  When they drew near the truck, they saw a dozen rifles leveled at them,and a stern voice told them to halt. They feared for a moment that theyhad walked into a new trap.

  One of the men leaped from the truck and asked them who they were andwhat their business was.

  "My name is Boone," answered Garry, acting as the spokesman for hislittle party. "I am on my way to try and locate the sheriff of thecounty, as my father and friends are held prisoner at the Boone lumbercutting camp."

  "Well, I'm the sheriff, and I'm on my way there now. We'll look you overin a moment and see if you're all right."

  The words of the sheriff surprised Garry.

  "How did you know that you were wanted at the camp?"

  "My boy picked a message out of the air with his radio, and that's howwe found out," answered the sheriff.

  Garry gave a shout of joy. "Good for Dick, he managed somehow to get achance to use his wireless."

  "Now," said the sheriff, "lower the muzzles of those rifles and comeforward slowly. My men have you covered and you have no chance for anymonkey business."

  Knowing that they could soon convince the sheriff of their statements,they did as they were bade. When they came into the light cast by theheadlights of the truck, the sheriff at once recognized Art Howells.

  "Hello, Art, guess that is all I want to know. These fellows all right?I know you well enough to take your word for it."

  "They are absolutely O.K., Sheriff," answered Art. "We were on our wayto summon you when you met us."

  Howells' words satisfied the sheriff, and they proceeded to getacquainted all around. Garry asked if that was the pretext of the posse,for he counted only fifteen men, and was relieved when he was told thatanother truck with the same number of men was following them, but hadbeen obliged to stop for a short time on account of engine trouble.

  As they spoke they heard the rumble of an engine and a short time laterthe second truck hove into view.

  "It lacks about an hour and a half of daylight, so I think we ought tobe getting on. If possible we can surprise them in the dark, that wouldwin half the battle for us. Not that I expect there will be much of afight, when they see that the law is after them," said the sheriff.

  "I don't think I would trust the authority of the law half as much asour rifles," said Garry. "Those men are desperate, some of them, and ifthey see prison staring them in the face, they will fight all theharder, figuring that they might as well be taken for sheep as forlambs," said Garry. "Besides, they have two bad men with them, meaningthe two halfbreeds, Jean and Baptiste LeBlanc. Jean is already wantedfor a half a dozen serious crimes, including kidnapping and setting fireto forests; also he is an escaped jail bird. With that kind, it meansfight to the end before being taken."

  "Come to think of it, I've seen a notice in my office offering a rewardfor his capture. I'd like to get that chap, and I could use the reward,"said the sheriff.

  They had ridden as they talked, and soon were on the outskirts of thecamp.

  But something had gone wrong. A volley of shots whistled at them fromcover, and they were forced to beat a short retreat instead of springinga surprise on their quarry as they had intended to do.

  "Now, that's funny; how did
they get on to that?" muttered the sheriff.

  It later developed that Barrows had posted sentinels in the woods alongthe road, and as soon as their approach was noted, they had, by apre-arranged signal, passed the word of the coming to the posse.

  This word having been received at the camp, hasty preparations had beenmade to receive them. The prisoners, about twenty in all, had beenmarched at the points of guns to the storehouse, and there were forcedto enter the storehouse. There was hardly room enough for them, andlittle air, but they were crowded in like so many sardines in a can,while the enemy fortified themselves in the log bunkhouse.

  The opening volley of shots had come from the sentinels who had closedin and fired as they ran for shelter to the bunkhouse.

  "Well, we're stumped for a minute now," said the sheriff. "They couldhold us off for a long time in that bunkhouse. It is built of solidlogs, and bullets, unless they were aimed at the windows, would have noeffect on that wood. We've got to think up some way of rushing 'em orsmoking 'em out. Anyone got a plan in mind?"

  "Yes, sir, I think I have," spoke up Phil. "As soon as it gets just alittle bit lighter we can rush one of the trucks back through the woodsto the sawmill, and there we can sheath the truck with some of thattimber. A very thick bulwark can be made, and that will halt thebullets. Half of the men can stay near the bunkhouse drawing fire withtheir rifles while the truck is being fixed."

  "But what good is that going to do us?" broke in the sheriff.

  "Just let me finish. I know that there are three or four sticks ofdynamite at the sawmill, that were part of the lot bought to blast awaythe stumps where the mill and camp shacks were built. With what wire Ihave in my pack, and some of the batteries from my wireless, I can rigup a small mine at the side of the log hut, where there is no window.The shield on the truck would be to allow us to get there in safety."

  "But wouldn't that be an awful thing to do, Phil?" asked Garry. "Wecouldn't blow those men up without warning."

  "No, that isn't my idea. I would have one of the party carry a flag oftruce into the camp and explain to the men what had been done, and givethem two minutes to surrender. If they did not, then go ahead and blowher up. Few would be hurt, and those only slightly. The blast would makea breach in the wall through which we could wage a more even battle, ifit comes to an actual fight. But I think the fear of the dynamite wouldbe enough to do the trick. Besides, we could promise that thelumberjacks would be allowed to go in peace; only the principals wouldbe held. If those jacks were the kind that would play traitor to thecamp they were working for, they would double cross Barrows to savetheir own skins."

  "By gosh, boy, I believe you have struck the very idea. At any rate,it's worth a trial. I'll go with you in the truck with some of the men,and leave the deputy here with the others."

  The plan was put into execution, and the truck made a dash over theuneven ground past the bunkhouse. A volley of shots greeted them as theytore past, and two of the men uttered exclamations of pain. Fortunatelythey had only the merest flesh wounds, which Phil bound for them with asmall first aid bandage that he had in his pocket.

  The barrier was built in record time at the sawmill, and Phil rescuedthe dynamite from its hiding place. He had feared for a moment that itmight have been removed, but evidently in the haste of fortifyingthemselves in the bunkhouse, no one of the enemy had thought of it.

  The return to the bunkhouse then started. When within a strikingdistance of it, the truck was turned around and, throwing his clutchinto reverse, the driver skillfully backed it towards the log house.

  Several shots were fired, then there was a silence. Evidently thoseinside the building were at loss to understand what this peculiar formof attack meant.

  Phil knew that his job would be a perilous one, but he knew his duty wasto do what he had planned. The barrier was raised up and he slipped tothe ground. He felt a measure of safety in the thought that the enemycould see what was going on, and would be unlikely to send spies out,since the men of the posse in the other truck could pick them off ifthey came out.

  Phil raided his radio set for the necessary wire, and fixed the dynamiteagainst the log house. There was only one detonator left, and Phil wasnot sure it was a good one, but he felt so certain that there would beno need of setting it off that he did not particularly care.

  His plan was for the man who bore the flag of truce to promise safeconduct for one man to go and look at the arrangement and then go backand tell the others that it was so. The inspector would be under coverof the rifles of the posse all the time, so would have no chance ofwrecking the dynamite mine.

  When it was finally in place, he gave the order for the truck to backaway slowly, paying out the wire that was to be used to set off thedetonator from the battery at the other end if the need really arose.

  Garry then volunteered to act as the truce bearer, but here King steppedin.

  "I've been athinkin' that you shouldn't go. Suppose they once got you inthe shack; they could send a man out and tell us that they would harmyou if you didn't give orders to git out o' the way. They know that yourpa would rather lose the whole camp than have you harmed. Now with me itwould be different; they'd know that I didn't count for much with youfolks, I'd be like one o' the sheriff's men only, and could bargainbetter. Better let me go, only promise if anythin' happens to me you'lltake care of my baby."

  The crude logic of the old timer appealed to them all except Garry, whofelt that he should take the danger, since Phil had done his share inbraving bullets to fix the charge.

  However, the sheriff decided the matter, and since he was the real headof the posse and the law representative of the county, his decisionwent.

  One of the men produced a white handkerchief and tied it to a stick.Then holding the flag of truce aloft, King, the squatter, headed for thelog house. The posse held their breaths for a moment, thinking thatthose in the shack would fear a trick and shoot him; but he advanced insafety and they saw the door of the shack open long enough to admit him.

  When King arrived at the shack, he was met by Barrows, who demanded toknow what message was sent. In a few words King told them, then he addedsome words of his own. These were directed to the lumberjacks. King spuna yarn out of whole cloth and told the jacks, who by this time werealmost ready to desert the ship, that another posse was on the way.

  Barrows was for disregarding the message as a trick, but King clinchedthe argument by offering immunity to all the lumberjacks except thebosses and camp officers. They demanded that one of their number go andsee if the dynamite was really there.

  Barrows and his lieutenants were not strong enough to cope with thelumberjacks, and it was finally agreed that one lumberjack and the redheaded cookee go and inspect the blasting apparatus. Each faction--forthere were two now in the log house--insisted on having a representativesent, for neither was willing to trust the word of the other. Kingagreed to remain behind as a hostage for the safety of the messengers.

  The two set out on their quest, and in a few minutes were back, posthaste.

  "It's there, boss; enough to blow us all into the next world," gaspedthe cookee, who was now frightened half to death.

  His words being corroborated, the lumberjacks insisted on an immediatesurrender. Barrows saw that the jig was up, and he ordered anevacuation. Jean LeBlanc's face was livid, and he spat out a torrent ofabuse at Barrows. But for all his braggadocio, Barrows was a cowardunder the skin, and he saw there was nothing to be gained by a fightexcept a longer prison term. Even now he was figuring on bargaining withMr. Boone for his freedom, by giving away the interests who had hiredhim to do their dirty work.

  Once outside the door, they found the guns of the men in the truckstrained on them, and they were marching quietly to be disarmed andprobably bound, when suddenly, with a loud scream of defiance, JeanLeBlanc turned and bounded away with the speed of a stricken deer. Adozen shots flew after him, and one must have struck him, for they heardhim give a screech of pain, then he reached the sanct
uary of the woods,and dodging for safety from tree to tree dashed for the lake. Three ofthe men took after him, but he had taken them by such great surprisewhen he fled, that he got a flying start.

  LeBlanc reached the lake and dived in. He had seen at the same moment asthe men who were following, the one chance to save his hide. The motorboat had been repaired, and in it were three or four of the menconcerned in the timber thefts. Among them was Jean's brother Baptiste.

  Swimming under water, the halfbreed made for the craft. The men in thelaunch opened fire on the pursuers. A rope was thrown to Jean by hisbrother, which he grasped, and then without taking the time to haul himaboard, the boat put about and made for the other side of the lake.

  Shot after shot was exchanged, but LeBlanc, as well as those in themotor boat, seemed to bear charmed lives.

  Once again, Jean LeBlanc had foiled justice and made his escape.

  The chagrined pursuers returned to the late scene of hostilities, andfound that order had been restored. The lumberjacks who had beenpromised immunity had been disarmed and herded together, waiting theword to leave the camp.

  The ringleaders had been tied up to prevent any more escapes, and Mr.Boone and Dick, together with the other prisoners, had been removed fromthe stifling air of the storehouse.

  Warm was the greeting between father and son and between the chums whowere together once again, unharmed and happy. After the greetings wereover, the traitorous lumberjacks were ordered to get their packs andleave within fifteen minutes under the guidance of the posse, while theprisoners were put on the trucks to be taken to the county jail.

  "So ends the battle of Boone's camp, and all the excitement. My boys, Ican't tell you how proud I am of you; but had I known the perils thatwere in store for you, I would never have started you on this mission.But you have covered yourselves with glory, and I'm proud of you. Now Imust get a manager that will serve my interests, get this camp going anddo what I can to try and retrieve what I have lost through the rascallyBarrows. I am afraid that I am financially hurt unless we can bringCarson to book and make him stand this loss."

  "With our evidence I think you can," said Garry. "And now what would yougive for a real manager that would serve you and no one else?"

  "I don't know, but I would give almost anything in reason for such aman."

  "Then," said Garry, "there's your man," and he pointed to Art Howells.

  Garry's father heartily agreed.

  "Now," said Mr. Boone, "I'd like to get a look at this hermit of yours."

  The boys looked around for the old man, but, mysterious as ever, he haddisappeared!