CHAPTER VIII
JACK STRICKEN BY A BULLET
"What's up now?" cried Jack from the rowboat.
"That villain has shot Tom and is running away across the island!" criedArnold from his position. "Tom's lying on the sand!"
"Great Double-Barreled Wiggle-Headed Pollywogs!" ejaculated Harry."Excuse my French, but this is too much. If he's killed Tom, I'll resignfrom the Boy Scouts for a few minutes. I will so!"
"Pull for the shore, boys!" urged Jack. "Get into your clothes, Frank!"And then, before either of his orders could be obeyed, he seized theoars and pulled the boat with lusty strokes toward the beach, intent oncapturing the outlaw if possible. Great sobs escaped him as he workedmanfully at the oars.
Each boy at that moment was mentally blaming himself for the tragedy hewas sure would await their arrival at the scene of the campfire. Eachone felt that he should have remained to guard the captive outlaw whowas so evidently desperate because of his situation.
But Jack's exertions were unnecessary. Before the rowboat reached thesand, a flash of white had appeared over the bows of the Fortuna, agreat splash of water gave evidence of a heavy body launched from thedeck, and a commotion betokened a swimmer in action.
"Good old boy!" cried Frank with a sob in his throat.
"That never was Arnold!" cried Harry aghast at the thought of his chumventuring into the water alone on such a quest.
"Not on your life!" Jack protested. "That was our one and only. OldRowdy is on the job with both feet. He's going ashore for business, too.I believe that dog actually knows things!"
"Heaven help that poor wretch if Rowdy gets to him first!" cried Harry."Rowdy has more enthusiasm than caution, and he's apt to get rough. Iwouldn't be surprised to find Wyckoff all strung around the island insmall pieces when we get there."
In a short time the nose of the rowboat grounded on the beach.
The three boys leaped out and raced quickly to their fallen chum. Tomwas struggling to rise from his prone position. Far across the sands thefleeing figure of the outlaw was being rapidly overtaken by the enragedbulldog, who sensed the situation and who apparently was determined toovertake and punish the escaped prisoner.
"Are you hurt, Tom?" queried Jack in a shaking tone.
"I guess so," Tom replied in a dazed manner. "No, I don't think I am,"he corrected himself. "That is," he continued, "I don't know just whathappened. I heard you cry out, and as I turned to look, the explosiontook place. What happened, anyway?"
"From the look of your jaw, Wyckoff must have landed a sweeping kickjust where the knockout nerve is located," explained Frank.
"Try to shut your teeth," suggested Harry. "If you can shut your teethall right, nothing serious is to be feared."
Tom made the effort, but winced with pain. A grimace stole over hiscountenance and his hand went up to the injured jaw.
"That hurts, doesn't it?" solicitously inquired Jack.
"Not much," bravely protested Tom. "The most trouble is that I can shutthe front teeth, but the back ones don't seem to meet by half an inch ormore. The jaw must be dislocated."
In spite of their sympathy the boys could not restrain a laugh.
"I guess that if your front teeth come together your back ones meet,"Jack assured the injured boy. "Let's look for Wyckoff."
"You mean let's look for Wyckoff's remains!" Harry tried to put in, buthe was stopped by a gesture from Frank.
"Let's not make it any more horrible than it is. That man is desperateand I'm afraid of him," he whispered as they helped Tom to his feet andstarted away in the direction taken by the outlaw.
"I can't see him anywhere," Harry asserted. "I'll bet Rowdy has eatenhim up body, boots and breeches. Serve him right, too!"
"We're the bloodthirsty bunch!" declared Jack. "It must be some qualityin the atmosphere down here. This is the old region infested by CaptainKidd and his buccaneers. They must have left something in the way of apiratical germ in the atmosphere."
"Maybe so, but I'd like to find that dog just now," stoutly declaredHarry. "He's had one big meal even if the quality was poor."
"Follow his tracks," suggested Frank. "That's easy in this sand. See,here they go. My word, but he was taking long jumps."
"He left in such a hurry that he didn't take my automatic," declaredTom. "I guess when he hit me or kicked me I must have closed on thetrigger and started the thing going. He left without waiting to take thegun away from me. I'm glad of that, too."
"I see him!" joyfully shouted Frank, who was slightly in the lead. "Herehe is, and Rowdy is mounting guard. Good old dog."
It was even as Frank had said. Rowdy had overtaken the fleeing villainand brought him to earth. Now he was walking about the prostrate form,occasionally stepping in and taking a nip at an arm or a leg. Wyckoff,thoroughly cowed, was begging and whining at a great rate. At theapproach of the boys he begged piteously.
"Let him get up, Rowdy!" commanded Jack. "Now, Wyckoff," he ordered whenthe dog had permitted that worthy to regain his feet, "You 'bout faceand back to the campfire on the double quick. It's getting towardevening and we can't lay around here all night waiting on you. We wantyou for a little while yet."
Wyckoff's appeals for mercy were piteous. All the way to the campfire hebegged that the boys would show him mercy, but no response was made.Rowdy trotted along beside the outlaw with a satisfied air. Now andagain he would look up at Wyckoff's face and then make as if to take abite of the man's leg. At such times Wyckoff would involuntarily quickenhis gait until cautioned by Jack to go more steadily. This was very hardfor him to do, for he was frightened.
"Frank," Tom asked when the little party arrived at the fire, "did yousee anything of a boat on shore here during your visit?"
"Come to think of it, I certainly did," replied Frank. "It is a dandy,too. I had made up my mind to try to drag it to the water and row to themainland if no one came soon, but your arrival drove all thoughts of itfrom me. It is back here just a short distance."
"Wyckoff was telling me that boats were sometimes washed ashore on theseislands. That reminded me of it. I wonder if it wouldn't be a good ideato ask Mr. Wyckoff to drag the boat to the water for us. He's been veryobliging and I don't want to overwork him without paying him for histrouble," Tom added sarcastically.
"Hurray!" shouted Jack. "The very thing! And that may replace the one webrought from Mobile and gave to that other fellow,--what was his name? Inever was much of a hand to remember names."
"I know--Carlos de Sneakodorus Madero!" announced Harry.
"Well, he got a boat from us, and it's only right we get one from hisboss," asserted Tom. "Did you know your hired man stole our boat?" heinquired, turning to Wyckoff, who looked very humble.
"No, sir," replied that worthy. "I know the young fellow, but he is nothired by me. I don't know what you mean about his stealing your boat. Inever told him to do such a thing!"
"All right; you've got a story coming, then. You just ask him when yousee him again. He'll tell you," was Tom's information.
"Lead us to the boat, Frank," requested Jack. "Mr. Wyckoff seems to bejust crazy to help us launch the rowboat."
Frank led the way to where a pile of great timbers and plank had beencast up by the angry waters during a recent storm. There, resting on topof the heap of lumber and timbers, was a fine skiff apparently sound andwhole. By some curious freak of the storm it had been gently depositedthere and left to rest while great ships had been sorely wrenched andeven wrecked. The boys lost no time in removing the skiff with Wyckoff'shelp. To drag it along the yielding sand was a harder task. All werethoroughly winded when at last the skiff floated in the waters of thebight where lay the yacht.
"Whew!" panted Frank. "That's a big job for five. I'm glad I didn'ttackle it alone. I certainly would have been tired."
"Let's leave Rowdy to guard Wyckoff while we get things in good shape onboard and then we'll leave Wyckoff here!" suggested Tom in an aside toJack. "I think we'd better leave him some grub, to
o. It wouldn't beright to just turn him adrift here alone."
"What, after he kicked you like that?" inquired Jack.
"Yes," Tom replied. "A Boy Scout never holds a grudge."
"Good for you, Tom!" cried Jack, extending his hand to meet Tom's in ahearty grip. "Those sentiments make me glad that you are a member of theBeaver Patrol. I wish they were all like that!"
No time was lost in preparing the boats for the proposed trip to themainland. The afternoon was well spent and the boys were tired andhungry. Their day had been a most strenuous one.
Arnold was already preparing coffee and pancakes in the kitchenette whenthe boys arrived with the newly discovered skiff.
"We'd better get the anchor aboard," suggested Harry, "and then hoistthe steel rowboat into her chocks and lash her fast. The skiff we cantow behind us as we did the other if it's agreeable."
"Right-o!" sung out Tom, who had nearly forgotten his swollen jaw underthe excitement of the moment. "I see the oar we tied onto the line thatFrank fastened to the cable. It's right over there."
In a short time the anchor was brought aboard and lashed fast. Therowboat was slung into place and made secure, and nothing remained butthe disposing of Wyckoff to occupy the boys at the island.
"How about it, Wyckoff?" called Harry from the deck of the Fortuna; "doyou want some grub, or can you rustle for yourself?"
A torrent of abuse was the outlaw's reply.
"Watch out or I'll sic my little dog onto you!" warned Harry.
"Let's not aggravate him any more than we have to," cautioned Jack."Take him some grub and throw it onto the beach. Then be quick aboutgetting back, for it's getting late. It's three bells now!"
Harry rowed ashore with some canned beans, meats and blueberries.
Keeping at a respectful distance from the shore he tossed the cans to aposition where they could easily be recovered by the outlaw. He whistledto Rowdy, who came aboard the skiff with a rush, and then pulled for theFortuna with a lusty stroke.
Scarcely was he well aboard before Jack at the switchboard had startedthe engines and the Fortuna pointed her nose away from Petit Bois Islandand headed for the mainland.
Frank was lost in wonder and admiration as the boys showed him about theFortuna. He exclaimed over the conveniences and went into raptures overthe kitchenette and washroom.
"We cooked on a furnace on the Spray," he said regretfully. "Here you'vethe gasoline and electric coils. Electric lights and electric stoves andelectric starter on the engines. It is fine!"
"What's a furnace?" inquired Arnold eagerly.
"It's a sort of a bucket made of fire clay," answered Frank. "It has adivision about half way down. Charcoal is put in on top and lighted andthe draft comes up through a hole in the side. The natives and negroesdown here use them quite extensively. They don't like iron stoves andranges because they don't know how to use them."
"Let's see if Wyckoff is keeping up his campfire," suggested Harry."I'll wager he's too excited to even think about supper."
When the boys reached the deck they saw Wyckoff capering and dancingabout on the beach wildly. He was waving his arms in an evident effortto attract attention. A schooner was approaching from the west.
"Yacht aho-o-oy!" came a faint hail across the water.
Jack at the wheel held a steady course and reached a hand toward theswitchboard. His lips were tightly closed. Again the hail came acrossthe tumbling waters, but no reply was made.
A shot rang out from the schooner. The boys could see the bulletricochet from wave to wave and pass in front of the Fortuna.
Another shot was fired. Glass tinkled. Jack fell to the floor.
Boy Scouts in Southern Waters; Or, Spaniard's Treasure Chest Page 8
