“We can’t get there any too soon for me,” said Dick to Luke Peterson. “There is no telling how cruelly Sam and Tom are being treated, now that they made the attempt to run away.”
“I hope your father doesn’t give the rascals any money before we have a chance to catch them,” returned the lumberman.
“I think he will wait to hear from me, after he reads the letter I left for him at Detroit. He is as down on the Baxters as I am.”
“When we come in sight of the island we’ll have to move with caution,” went on the lumberman. “If we don’t, Captain Langless may lay low and give us the slip in the dark.”
“Are there any other islands close to Needle Point?”
“A dozen of them, and some with just as good hiding places, too. That’s why the smugglers used to hang out in that locality. They are ideal places for smugglers’ caves and the like, I can tell ye that,” and Luke Peterson nodded his head sagaciously.
At noon Parsons announced that they were within three miles of Needle Point Island. Dinner was ready, but it must be confessed that Dick was almost too excited to eat. Half a dozen vessels had thus far been sighted, but not one which looked like the Peacock.
He was finishing up a hasty repast when a cry came from the deck.
“Needle Point Island is in sight!” announced the lookout, and a moment later he added: “A schooner bearing away to the bay on the east end!”
“It must be the Peacock!” ejaculated Dick, and rushed to the deck to learn the truth.
CHAPTER XVII
A CAVE AND A SNAKE
“Now we are in for it, Sam. They won’t give us a second chance to escape.”
A groan was the answer, coming from out of the darkness of the hold of the Peacock. Sam was too much stunned and bruised to reply to the words from his brother.
The two boys had been hustled on board of the schooner with scant ceremony, and now they found themselves bound and handcuffed, so that it was next to impossible for either of them to move. Hour after hour had passed, yet nobody had come near them.
“I reckon they are going to starve us to death for what we did,” went on Tom, after a long pause.
“If only I had a drink of water,” came at last from his younger brother. “My mouth is as dry as a chip, and I seem to have a regular fever.”
“Make the best of it, Sam,” returned Tom soothingly. “This state of things can’t last forever. If they—Oh!”
The schooner had suddenly tacked in the strong wind, and the bowling over of the empty craft had caused Tom to take a long roll. He struck up against his brother, and the pair went sliding to the end of the hold, to hit a jug of water which had been left there in the darkness.
“Hurrah, some water!” cried Tom, as some of the fluid splashed over his hand. But, alas! how were they to get at what was left of the contents of the jug, with their hands tied behind them?
But time was no object, and at last they solved the problem. At first Tom backed up to the jug and held it, though clumsily, for Sam to drink, and then the youngest Rover did the same for his brother. The water was warm and somewhat stale, yet both could remember nothing which had ever tasted sweeter to them. They drank about half of what the jug contained, then set the rest carefully away for future use.
The Peacock was bowling along at a speed of seven or eight knots an hour, and the creaking of the blocks attested the fact that Captain Langless was making every effort to reach his destination as soon as possible.
Once the boys heard somebody at the forward hatchway, and presently the hatch was lifted for a few inches.
“Hope you are enjoying yourselves down there,” came in the sarcastic tones of Dan Baxter. To this they made no answer, and the hatch was closed as quickly as it had been opened.
“The brute,” muttered Tom. “I’d give a good deal to be able to punch his nose!”
“He evidently thinks himself on top to stay,” came from Sam, who had propped himself up against an empty cask. “Oh, if only we knew what had become of Dick!” he went on.
“Dick must have escaped. I don’t see how it could be otherwise.”
“But if he did, why didn’t he notify the authorities?”
“The Peacock must have given the river police the slip; that’s the only answer I can make, Sam.”
“But they could have telegraphed to different points.”
“Well, I can’t make it out, and we’ll have to take what comes.”
“Where do you suppose we are bound?”
“I haven’t the least idea.”
Hour after hour went by, and still nobody came to them. It did, indeed, look as if they were to be starved to death. But just as Sam was almost fainting for the want of food, the door to the cabin passageway was flung open, and Captain Langless appeared with a lantern, followed by Arnold Baxter, who carried a tray containing a plate of bread and two bowls of beef stew.
“Hungry, I’ll wager,” said the captain laconically. All the pleasantness he had previously exhibited had vanished.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves to let us starve so long,” replied Tom, who never hesitated to speak his mind.
“Hi! don’t talk that way, or you shall have nothing,” cried Arnold Baxter. “We are masters, and you must understand it so.”
The captain set down the lantern and released the right hand of each of the prisoners. Then the tray was set upon an upturned box, and they were told to eat what they wanted, the captain and Arnold Baxter sitting down to watch them.
There was no use to “stand upon then dignity,” as Tom afterward expressed it, so they fell to without protest, and it must be confessed that the stew was just what their stomachs, in that weakened state, needed. It did not take long to get away with the larger portion of the bread and all of what the bowls contained.
“You can thank your stars that you got meal,” said Arnold Baxter. “You don’t deserve it.”
“According to you, I suppose we don’t deserve anything but abuse,” replied Tom. “But, never mind, Arnold Baxter; remember the old saying, ‘He laughs best who laughs last.’”
“I’m not here to listen to your back talk,” growled Arnold Baxter. “Come, captain, let us be going,” and he arose.
“You’ve brought this treatment on yourselves,” said the captain, with a shrewd look into the boys’ faces. “I was of a mind to treat you kindly before. You know that.”
“Come,” insisted Arnold Baxter, and caught the captain by the arm. “Don’t waste words on them. There will be time enough to talk when we reach the island.” And then the two walked off, closing and locking the passageway door after them.
“The island?” repeated Sam. “Then they intend to take us to some lonely island, Tom!”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ve noticed by the shafts of light coming through the cracks overhead that we are sailing northward. We must be in Lake Huron by this time.”
“One satisfaction, they left our right hands free,” continued the youngest Rover. “And I must say that stew just touched the spot.”
Again the hours drifted slowly by. The boys had really lost all track of time. They dozed off and did not awaken until some time later. Whether they had slept through a night or not they did not know.
Presently they heard the sails being lowered and an anchor go overboard. Then a boat put off from the Peacock, and for a while all became silent.
“We must be close to some landing,” was Tom’s comment. “Perhaps it’s the island old Baxter mentioned.”
Another half hour slipped by. Then the door to the cabin was opened, and both Baxters, Captain Langless, and the mate of the schooner appeared.
“Get up,” ordered the captain, and when they arose he saw to it that their lower limbs were released, but that their hands were bound more tightly behind them than ever.
“We are going ashore,” said Arnold Baxter, “Remember we want no treachery nor any attempt to run away. If you try either, somebody will get shot.”
With this caution they were marched into the cabin and then on deck. At first the strong light blinded them, but soon they became accustomed to this, and made out a small bay just ahead, surrounded by cedar trees and various bushes. Back of the trees was a hill, and off to the southward a rocky elevation ending in a needle-like point. It was this elevation which gave to the island the name of Needle Point. By the Indians of days gone by the island was called Arrow Head.
A rowboat was in waiting beside the Peacock, and into this the prisoners were placed. The captain of the schooner and the Baxters also went along, and soon the rowboat had passed over the waters of the little bay and grounded on a bit of shelving beach.
“Now we’ll go ashore,” said Captain Langless, and glad enough for the change, Tom and Sam leaped upon the beach. The others followed, and tying up the boat, the master of the Peacock led the way through the trees and brush to the hill previously mentioned. Here there was a slight path, winding in and out among a series of rocks.
“Where are you going to take us?” said Tom.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” returned Arnold Baxter. “March.”
“Supposing I refuse?”
“We’ll knock you down and drag you along,” put in Dan Baxter, anxious to say something.
“You had better come along quietly,” said Captain Langless. “To kick will only make you worse off.”
The march was resumed, and now they dove straight into the interior of the island, which was about a mile and a half long and half as wide. At some points the path was choked with weeds and trailing vines, and they progressed with difficulty.
It must be admitted that Tom and Sam were very uneasy. They had felt that the authorities might follow the Peacock, but how would anybody ever discover them in such a lonely place as this? But there was no help for it, and on they went until Captain Langless called a sudden halt.
They had gained a cliff running out from one end of the hill. The rocks arose in a sheer wall, thirty or more feet in height. At the base were a spring and a small pool of water. To the left of the spring was a cave-like opening, partly choked with brushwood.
“Here we are,” said the captain. “Watch them.”
He moved toward the opening and soon had a portion of the brushwood torn aside. Then he lit a lantern he had brought along and disappeared into the opening.
He had scarcely passed from view when he let out a yell of fright.
“A snake! Look out for him!”
The words just reached the ears of Sam and Tom when the reptile appeared. He was all of five feet long and as thick as a man’s wrist.
“A snake!” screamed Dan Baxter, and took to his heels without waiting to see what the creature might do.
Arnold Baxter was less frightened, and snatching a pistol from his pocket, he took hasty aim and fired. But his aim was poor, and the bullet flew wide of its mark.
The snake was a dangerous one, and very much shot, and came straight for Tom and Sam. An instant later the savage reptile was coiling itself around the youngest Rover’s left leg!
CHAPTER XVIII
COFFEE FOR THREE
The situation was one which demanded instant action.
The snake was a dangerous one, and very much aroused, and it might at any instant do Sam great harm.
The poor boy was speechless and motionless, for the reptile had caught his eye and held him as by a spell.
It was Tom who acted. Heedless of the danger, he leaped forward and aimed a kick at the snake’s head.
The reptile was caught fairly and squarely, and the head went down with an angry hiss. Then Tom stepped upon it, but the snake squirmed loose and uttered another hiss, louder than before.
“Take him off! Take him off!” screamed Sam, now recovering his voice. “Don’t let him bite me.”
He would have caught the snake himself, and so would Tom, but the hands of both were still tied behind them.
By this time Captain Langless emerged from the cave, pulling out a pistol as he did so.
Arnold Baxter had not offered to fire a second shot. Now, he was out of danger himself, he did not seem to care what became of the Rovers.
Crack! crack! It was the captain’s weapon which spoke up, and the two shots, fired in rapid succession, did their work thoroughly. The first took the snake in the neck and the second in the head, and in a twinkle the long, slippery body unwound itself from Sam’s leg and began to turn and twist on the ground.
“Good for you!” gasped Sam, when able to speak again. “Ugh! what an ugly thing!” And he retreated to the opposite side of the pool, along with Tom.
“He was a nasty one,” replied Captain Langless, as he coolly proceeded to reload his pistol. “I might have killed him in the cave, only the light was bad.”
“Is he—he dead?” came from behind some rocks, and Dan showed a white face and trembling form.
“Yes, he’s dead,” answered Arnold Baxter. “I came pretty close to hitting him,” he went on, bound to say something for himself.
“I—I thought there was a whole nest of them,” continued Dan. “If I had known there was only one, I would have stood my ground.”
“Of course—you always were brave,” answered Tom sarcastically.
“See here, Tom Rover, I don’t want any of your back talk,” howled the bully, his face turning red.
“Come, don’t quarrel now,” said Captain Langless, so sternly that Dan subsided on the instant. “The question is, are there any more snakes in that cave?”
“Send Dan in to investigate,” suggested Sam, with just the faintest touch of his old-time light-heartedness.
“Me?” ejaculated the individual mentioned. “Not me! I wouldn’t go in there for a million dollars!”
“Perhaps we had better find some other cave,” said Arnold Baxter. “You said there were several around here.”
“This is as good as any,” answered Captain Langless. “If you are afraid, I’ll go in myself,” and turning, he disappeared once more into the opening, lantern in one hand and pistol in the other.
He was gone the best part of quarter of an hour, and came back covered with dust and dirt.
“The old spot is pretty well choked up with rubbish,” he said. “But there isn’t a sign of another snake around, nor of any wild beasts. Come,” and he motioned Sam and Tom to follow him.
“I don’t think it fair that you should leave us helpless,” said Tom. “At least untie our hands and let us each get a good stick.”
“So you can fight us, eh?” cried Arnold Baxter. “We are not such fools.”
“You have your pistols,” put in Sam. “And what could we do on a lonely island and without a boat?”
“The lads are right—it’s not fair to leave them helpless when there may be other danger at hand,” interposed the captain. “If I unloosen you, will you promise not to run away?”
“The promise would not amount to anything!” sniffed Dan.
“We won’t run away for the present,” said Tom honestly. “But you can’t expect me to remain a prisoner here—not if I can help myself.”
The candor of the youth compelled Captain Langless to laugh, and, taking out a knife, he cut the ropes which bound the lads’ hands.
“You won’t need sticks, I am sure of it,” he said. “Come, I will lead, and you”—nodding to the Baxters—”can bring up the rear.”
No more was said, and in a minute more all were inside of the cave, which proved to be fifteen feet wide, about as high, and at least two hundred feet long. At the lower end were a turn and a narrow passageway leading to the darkness beyond. The ceiling was rough, and the lantern cast long, dancing shadows over it as they advanced. Sam could no
t help but shiver, and Tom looked unusually sober.
That the cave had once been used as a rendezvous of some sort was plainly evident. At the back was a rude fireplace, with a narrow slit in the rocks overhead, through which the smoke might ascend. Here were several half-burned logs of wood, and two tumble-down boxes which had evidently done duty as benches. On a stick stuck in a crack of the wall hung an old overcoat, now ready to fall apart from decay.
“Rather unwholesome, I admit,” said the captain, with a glance at the others. “But a roaring fire in yonder chimney-place will soon alter things. And when I’ve had one of the men bring some blankets and stores from the Peacock, it will be fairly comfortable.”
“Do you mean to keep us here?” demanded Tom.
“We do,” answered Arnold Baxter. “And you can thank your stars that you have not been taken to a worse place.”
“It’s a jolly shame. Why don’t you kill us off at once, and be done with it?”
“Because you are worth more to us alive than dead.”
“We won’t live long if you keep us here,” put in Sam. “It’s enough to give a fellow the ague.”
“We will start a fire without delay,” said the captain, and then, turning to Arnold Baxter, he continued: “Can you find the way back to the ship?”
“I think I can,” returned the other. “Years ago I was used to tramping the gold regions of the West.”
“Then you had better go and tell the mate to bring along that stuff I mentioned before I left. You can easily carry the stuff between you. I’ll build the fire and, with the aid of your son, watch the two prisoners.”
So it was arranged, although Arnold Baxter did not fancy the task of carrying stuff to be used for the Rovers’ comfort. He left his pistol with Dan, who kept it in his hand, ready to shoot should Sam or Tom make the slightest movement toward getting away.
As Captain Langless had said, the fire made the cave far more comfortable, taking away the feeling of dampness and lighting up all the nooks and corners. From a distance the boys heard a faint falling of water, and were told that it came from a spring hidden at the rear passageway.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 69
