Canoe Boys and Campfires Part 8

It had been a long day, and the Jolly Rovers were glad to get to bed.

They were too drowsy to think about the possibility of another visit from the mysterious boat, and in a very few minutes all were sound asleep.

About midnight--as nearly as he could judge afterward--Ned sat up with a start, firmly convinced that some danger was at hand. As he listened with a wildly throbbing heart, soft footsteps cracked on the pine needles outside, and then the tent flap was torn open, revealing against the lingering embers of the campfire the semblance of a human form.

"Hi! you chaps in thar!" whispered a gruff and unfamiliar voice. "Get awake, quick!"

The words had a soothing affect on Ned's fears, and satisfied him that the visitor--whoever he was--had come in the guise of friendship. He drew a match from his pocket and rubbed it on his trousers. It ignited, and revealed the pale face of Batters, framed between the tent and flap.

"Great Caesar! Is it you?" exclaimed Ned. "What's wrong?"

"Hush! not so loud," whispered Batters. "Put that light out, quick!"

Ned obeyed in haste.

"Now rouse the other chaps, and do it quietly, so they don't make no noise."

This was a pretty stiff order, and Ned had some fears for the result.

Happily all went well, and in two or three minutes an audience of four trembling and well nigh panic stricken lads was sitting in the darkness, listening to Batter's ominous tale.

"Joe waked me up a little while ago," he began, "an' said there was a strange boat, an' two men in it, down by the mouth of the run. I tole Joe ter stay an' watch our stuff. Then I sneaked along the sh.o.r.e an'

seen the fellows sittin' on the beach along side the canoes.

"I didn't dare go close enough to hear what they was sayin', so I come right up to the tent. I reckon you uns had better make a move afore the canoes get carried off. I'll do what I kin fur you. If we all take paddles and run out yellin' an' screachin' mebbe the fellars will get scared and make tracks without showin' fight."

This proposition rather staggered the boys.

"The thieves probably want more than the canoes," said Ned. "It's very likely they are right outside the tent now. I hardly know what we ought to do."

"Let's give them our money and watches, and anything else they want,"

suggested Nugget. "If we don't they'll surely cut our throats."

"Keep quiet!" whispered Clay savagely. "If you don't I'll throw you out of the tent."

At this awful threat Nugget subsided and buried his head in his blanket.

Meanwhile Randy, whose temper was beginning to rise at the thought of being robbed, had quietly reached for his gun, and was fumbling with it under cover of the darkness.

An unlucky move dashed the stock against his lantern, and the crash of broken gla.s.s followed. At the same moment Batters called in a loud whisper, "Here they are. I see them movin' among the trees."

At this startling news a wailing cry broke from Nugget, and an instant later a gruff voice called distinctly:

"Come out of that one at a time, young fellars. Move lively, an' you won't be harmed."

There was dead silence for a few seconds, and then the command was repeated in a more peremptory tone.

"They ain't got no shootin' weapons," whispered Batters; "only short sticks. I can see 'em by the firelight."

On hearing this, Randy was seized with a sudden access of courage. Gun in hand, he dashed by his companions to the front of the tent.

Batters saw the glint of the weapon and made a futile grab at it.

"Don't do no shootin'," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

The warning came too late. Randy stepped out from the flaps and raised it to his shoulder.

"Make tracks, you villains," he shouted, "or I'll put daylight through you." (This was a favorite expression of Randy's purloined from the life of Kit Carson.) Then, as retreating footsteps were heard, he lowered the weapon a little and pulled the trigger.

The thunderous report was followed by a yell of pain, and two voices hissed out dire threats of vengeance as the baffled men went hastily down the slope.

As Randy turned toward his companions Batters sprang at him and wrenched the weapon from his hands.

"Didn't I tell you not to shoot?" he cried. "Now you've gone an' hit Bug. I kinder feared it might be him, but I wasn't certain. That's him swearin' this very minute. Oh! I'll fix you for this."

Pushing Randy to one side and dashing the gun on the ground, Batters vanished in the darkness, yelling at the top of his voice, "Bug! Bug!

it's me!"

The boys were overcome with terror and amazement. Who in the world was Bug, and why should Batters be so anxious about him?

"Why did you do that?" demanded Ned sternly. "If you have shot any one don't expect us to shield you."

Randy did not reply. He staggered into the tent and rolled over in helpless mirth.

"It--it was--a salt cartridge," he finally was able to gasp. "I had--three or four of them. I read how to make them--in a book. Didn't I pepper their legs nicely though.

"I don't care what it was," exclaimed Ned angrily. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You'll break up this trip yet with your foolishness."

Randy sobered down in a moment or two, and when he joined the others outside the tent he was disposed to take a less humorous view of his smart performance. A light was visible at the mouth of the brook, and four figures could be seen around it.

Joe had evidently joined his brother. The conversation that was carried on was for the most part inaudible, but now and then a threatening sentence could be heard, or a few words of entreaty.

"Serious trouble will come out of this," said Ned. "For half a cent I'd deliver you over to those fellows, Randy. The worst of it is that they were going away when you fired."

"Dodging behind trees, that's all," replied Randy.

"Not a bit of it," exclaimed Ned angrily. "They were running toward the creek."

As Clay stoutly backed up this a.s.sertion, Randy lapsed into sullen silence. He was more frightened than he chose to let appear.

After what seemed a painfully long interval to the waiting boys, Batters came softly out of the gloom and stood before them.

"I reckon there ain't no more danger," he said. "It wasn't Bug what was. .h.i.t; the other fellow. He's sittin' down thar on the stones now, a pickin' lumps of salt out of his legs with a knife blade. He's mad as blazes too, an' me an Bug had all we could do ter keep him from comin'

back here.

"I tole Bug how you saved my life, an' when he heard that he put his foot down an' swore you chaps shouldn't be harmed. Bug ain't bad at heart, he ain't. As soon as the other fellow gits all the salt out they're both going away. They hev a camp somewhere's down the creek."

"But who are these men, Batters, and what do you know about them?" asked Ned.

The lad hesitated for a moment.