Chums in Dixie Part 10

"Them's him," said the swamp boy, with a nod. "His name it's Barker, an' he's a moughty fierce man. But let me tell yuh, he ain't been nigh our place sence. Cause why, he knowed the McGee allers keeps his word."

"Do you suppose he'd know you, Tony?" asked Phil.

"Reckons now, as how he would, seein' as how I had tuh bring him his grub that time he was held in our place. He knowed as I was McGee's boy."

"I just asked," Phil went on, "because it struck me that if we should happen to have a call from Sheriff Barker, it might be best for you to keep out of sight. If he's the kind of man you say, he might just trump up some kind of a charge in order to carry you back with him.

And once they got you in town, there's Colonel Brashears ready to make a charge against you for licking his cub of a son. How about that, Tony?"

"Reckons as how yuh has struck it 'bout right, sah," replied the other, uneasily. "This Barker, he's the sort tuh hold a grudge a long time.

It sorter rankled him tuh be rid out o' the squatter settlement on a rail, an' he an' officer o' the law, with all hands a larfin' an'

makin' fun of him. Never seen anybody so tearin' mad. He swore he'd come back with a company o' sojers, an' clean us out. But it's be'n a heap o' moons now, sah; an' I take notice Barker he ain't never showed up yit."

"If the runaway negro only knew that, I suppose he'd make straight for your settlement; because he'd be safe there from the sheriff?"

suggested Phil.

"That don't foller, sah," the swamp boy immediately replied. "We-uns ain't gwine tuh let all sorts o' trash settle among us. The McGee ain't settin' hisself up ag'in law an' order. He don't want no fight with the hull State. More'n a few times they be a 'scaped convict hit our place; but McGee, he wouldn't allow o' his stayin' longer'n tuh git a meal, an' p'raps an ole gun, so's he could shoot game. Then he had tuh beat it foh the coast; an' was told that if he war ever caught inside ten mile o' our place he'd be give over tuh the sheriff."

"The baying seems to have stopped, now," remarked Larry.

"Reckon as how the dawgs has lost the trail," Tony explained. "Yuh see, they's so much water around hyah that heaps o' times even the sharpest nose cain't keep track o' a runaway c.o.o.n. But if so be it's Barker along with them keepers, he'll keep agwine to the last minit.

He's a stayer, he is, I tell yuh."

A little later they prepared to go to sleep. There was ample room for Phil and Larry to make up their primitive beds on the seats of the launch. Arrangements looking to this had been made in the beginning.

True, it was always a chance as to whether one of them in turning over while he slept, might not roll off the elevated couch, and bring up at the bottom of the boat; but they provided against this by raising the outer edge of their mattress--really a doubled blanket over the seat cushions.

When Tony joined them it was a question just where he might find room to sleep. Not that the swamp boy was at all particular; for he could have snuggled down on deck, or found rest in a sitting posture; for he was used to roughing it.

On the preceding night they had tried having him occupy the bottom of the craft; and it had seemed to work well; but Tony evidently could not breathe freely when stowed away like so much cargo. So he had asked the privilege of taking his blanket, and making himself comfortable on the forward deck.

Thus it happened that his head was not far removed from that of Phil, when the latter stretched himself out on his shelf, with his feet toward the stern.

Larry was already breathing heavily, for he had the happy faculty, which Phil often envied, of going to sleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. Nor in making use of this word is reference made to some time in the past, when the two young cruisers were at home in their comfortable beds. Each of them owned a rubber pillow, which on being inflated, afforded an easy headrest; and during the day took up very little room, the air being allowed to escape in the morning.

On the first night out Larry had disdained to follow the example of his more experienced chum, who had covered his rubber pillow with a towel.

Consequently Larry found that his face burned and itched all day, from the drawing effect of the bare rubber; and on this occasion Phil noted with secret satisfaction that the other was very particular to emulate his example. Experience is the best guide; and Larry would never forget the unpleasant sensation he had endured because of declining to take pattern from the actions of the "one who knew."

The last thing Phil remembered hearing ere he went to sleep was that concert from the neighboring swamp. The alligator bull had started in to bellow again, as though pleading with some rival to come around and try conclusions; and the sound was very strange, surrounded as they were by such a wilderness.

Accustomed as he was to a delightful hair mattress, of course Phil would have found it rather hard to have only a doubled blanket between the boards and himself, as Tony was doing; while he and Larry enjoyed the benefit of the cushions with which the side seats of the launch were furnished; and which, being covered with panasote, were supposed to act as life preservers should they be cast into the water. But Tony never minded it in the least. He a.s.sured them he had many times slept comfortably, perched on the limb of a tree.

Still, Phil was a light sleeper. While his chum might never awaken once during a night, Phil generally turned over every hour or so. And he had fallen into the habit, so general among old campers, of raising his head and taking an observation at such times.

Finding all well, he would lie back again, and fall into a new sleep.

He remembered doing this at least twice on this night in question.

Each time it seemed to him that all was well. He could hear the various noises coming out of the swamp, and forming such a weird chorus; but they signified nothing in the way of peril. And by degrees Phil was growing accustomed to listening to the strange conglomeration.

A third time he awoke, and it struck him instantly that on this occasion he had not come out of his sleep wholly of his own accord.

Something seemed to be pulling at him--it would stop for a few seconds only to go on again, and Phil noted that this tugging was wholly confined to the shoulder of his coat, which he had not discarded when he lay down, as the night air was cool.

At first a thrill pa.s.sed through him. Possibly he remembered that bull 'gator with the hoa.r.s.e bellow; or bethought him of certain yellow moccasin snakes Larry had noticed in the water of the stream, coming from the swamp, no doubt.

Then something touched his face, tapping him gently. Instinctively he put up his hand, and immediately felt fingers. Why, it must be Tony!

Had the other thrown his arm up while sleeping, and in this way managed to arouse him; or was his action intentional?

Phil was just trying to decide which it could be, when a sound came to his ear that caused his heart to almost stop beating for a brief period; some one or some animal was certainly creeping under the curtains of the motor boat, seeking to enter!

CHAPTER XI

AN UNINVITED GUEST

Phil knew that Tony must have discovered this significant movement, and believed it his duty to arouse the one who might be depended on to meet the situation.

Could it be some wild animal that was trying to get in at their provisions? Listening, Phil believed he could catch the sound of half suppressed breathing. Then the fumbling began again, as though a body were being drawn under the canvas curtain.

It was time he were acting. So he allowed his fingers to give those of Tony a rea.s.suring squeeze; after which he reached out his arm. His faithful Marlin must be there on the floor of the c.o.c.kpit, just where he had placed it before lying down. And when he felt the familiar sensation of the cold steel barrel, he knew he had the situation well in hand.

Suddenly a wild cry arose. It had come from the lips of Tony, as Phil instantly understood; and was immediately followed by a threshing sound, as of two bodies rolling and scrambling about on the forward deck of the little cruiser.

Evidently the fearless little swamp lad had thrown himself on the intruder, whom his keen eyes had made out to be a human being, and not a panther, as Phil had at one time suspected might prove to be the case.

Phil immediately scrambled off his seat and to his feet. It was not actually dark under the cover, for the moon still shone. He could just manage to see the tumbling figures on the deck, as Tony clung to the unknown intruder with the tenacity of a cat.

Larry had rolled into the c.o.c.kpit, and was trying his best to disengage himself from his blanket, which he had somehow managed to get twisted around his bulky figure. So far as any help from that quarter might go, there was no use expecting it; for Larry was certainly in a dreadful panic, not knowing what it all meant; and perhaps thinking that he was about to be kidnapped.

"Don't hit me, ma.s.sa; I gives in, 'deed an' 'deed I does!" wailed a voice that could only belong to a terrified negro.

"Lie still, you!" cried Phil, thinking it best to take part in the row.

"I've got you covered with a gun, and can blow the top of your head off. Not another move, now, d'ye hear!"

Of course the intruder had no means of knowing that those in the tied-up motor boat were mere boys. He heard the one word "gun," and that settled the matter.

Phil thought fast. He had no doubt but that this fellow must indeed be the man the sheriff and his posse were hunting with hounds. He was an escaped convict, from the turpentine camp, where the chain gang worked out their various sentences under the rifles of the guards.

Perhaps after temporarily eluding his pursuers the fellow had happened on the boat as it lay there alongside the bank. He was possibly nearly starved; and rendered desperate by his condition had determined to attempt to steal some food, taking his very life in his hands in order to do so.

Phil knew just where a lantern lay. And he always carried plenty of matches on his person, so as to be provided in case he became lost in the wilderness at any time.

So he now decided to have some light on the subject. At the crackling of his match the negro uttered a low whine, and began to struggle slightly again, possibly fearing that he was about to be shot.

"Keep still, now!" cried Tony, knocking the fellow's head smartly on the planks of the deck; for he was sprawled out on the intruder's chest.

Phil, having succeeded in lighting the lantern, held it up. The first thing he saw was the frightened face of the escaped convict. Somehow it sent a pang through the heart of the boy, for he had never in all his life looked on a human countenance that was stamped with suffering as that black one seemed to be.

"Let him up, Tony; I've got the gun, and will keep him covered!" he said.