Chums in Dixie Part 21

"Git in!" he said, in his deep voice that was like the rumble of distant thunder.

"Bully! we're going to paddle down by water! Ain't I glad though!"

exclaimed the relieved Larry, as he only too gladly clambered over the edge, and found a seat amidships of the dugout canoe.

"Yuh git in too, Tony," said McGee, gloomily, as he motioned to his boy.

Evidently he was still in a towering rage but at the same time there were so many things he could not understand in connection with the coming of this Lancing boy, and Tony's being in his company, that he was holding himself back with a great effort.

McGee himself sat in the stern of the boat, paddle in hand. As they expected to drift with the current, always swift in these deep Florida streams, there was no need of additional motive power; though Tony had also picked up another paddle, as if he meant to a.s.sist.

So they started away. Looking back Larry could for some time see the lanterns gleaming aboard the snug motor boat, and how his heart went out to the cozy little craft. If only he and Phil were again aboard, and many miles below this settlement of the lawless shingle-makers, how delighted he would be. He even gave a deep sigh that was akin to a groan when a turn of the river blotted out the glow of those twin lights, and darkness profound surrounded them.

There was only the mysterious gurgling of the black water, or the measured dip of the paddle, with its consequent dripping of unseen drops, to tell that they were speeding swiftly along; though if he looked sh.o.r.eward Larry could see the bordering trees pa.s.sing in solemn review, and in this fashion might realize just how fast they were progressing.

No one said a word during the little voyage. Phil was busy with his own thoughts, and arranging his programme for the expected interview with McGee, when he meant to spring his surprise on the gruff giant.

Larry on his part had apparently lost all inclination to speak; which was something quite out of the common with him, since he liked to hear himself talk, and believed that a budding lawyer should always find something to say.

Tony was dumb with a nameless fear. He knew the violent rage into which this father of his could fly, and he dreaded lest while in such a state McGee do that which he might always regret. And the giant in turn was puzzling his brain with the intricacies of the problem by which he was faced.

Larry felt a hand twitch his arm.

"Look ahead," said the voice of his chum in his ear; and upon raising his head, and casting his eyes beyond the prow of the long dugout, he discovered lights.

"The village!" he exclaimed; but it would be hard to discover anything like pleasure in the quavering voice with which he said this.

"Thet's it!" observed Tony, listlessly.

McGee made no remark, but continued to ply the paddle. Presently the boat was headed in toward the sh.o.r.e. Phil saw that it would have been next to impossible for the Aurora to have pa.s.sed by here without being discovered; unless they had picked out an hour between midnight and dawn, when all the settlement might be asleep.

As the boat ran up on a shelving beach, Tony was the first one to jump out. In rapid succession Phil, Larry, and finally McGee himself, stood on the sh.o.r.e.

Their coming had been already noted. Several yellow mongrel dogs came bounding toward them, barking loudly; but at one word in the heavy voice of McGee it was astonishing to see how quickly they cowed down, and with tails between their legs, skulked away.

"Why, even the dogs fear him like the devil does holy water!" whispered Larry, in the ear of his chum.

"He's a wonder, that's what!" muttered Phil; for despite the apparent violent nature of the big man, there was something attractive about McGee; and Phil really believed that once he gained the good will of the other, the squatter head of the clan would prove to be a different sort of a man from what rumor pictured him.

After the dogs came a swarm of dirty children of all ages. Many were in rags, all of them barefooted, and the girls had unkempt hair that made them look all the wilder.

Evidently when the light had been seen, and the men went forth in obedience to the signal, the balance of the inhabitants of the village had been aroused, and remained up ever since, waiting to see what would be the result.

Somehow Phil felt deeply stirred at seeing how poverty stricken the women and children were. Money must be a scarce thing among them these days. Perhaps it was the fault of the men, who would work only when the humor seized them; or again it might be that they got such a small price for their shingles by the time they reached market that it was only with difficulty they kept the wolf from the door.

And yet these wretched people cared for their homes here in the midst of the great swamps; yes, so much so that they were ready to fight for them, wretched hovels that they seemed to be in Phil Lancing's eyes.

Wondering looks were cast upon the two boys as they followed McGee up the bank, and into the midst of the village. Perhaps they might even have been a target for more or less abuse only that McGee was along.

When some of the boys began to call out, and thrust their hands toward Larry, as if threatening to pinch him, because he was so very plump, the giant only needed to turn and glare at the offenders to make them slink away, thoroughly cowed.

Several old men seemed to be the only ones about the place, all of the others having hastened to obey the signal when McGee led off.

"And all this can be changed, if only he will accept the generous offer I am bearing him," said Phil to himself, as he looked around at the evidences of squalor and poverty. "Inside of six months this place could have a thrifty look; the women would own decent dresses, the children shoes for their feet if they wanted them; yes, and even a schoolhouse would stand right in the middle of the village, with a teacher ready to show these poor things how to read and write, if nothing more. Oh! don't I hope he acts sensible, and accepts! But I'm more afraid than I'd like Larry to know. I can see a lurking look in McGee's eyes that frightens me, even while I'm smiling so bravely."

He had just finished saying this to himself when he saw Tony leading a woman toward them. There was something akin to pride in the action of the swamp boy.

"It's his mother, Larry," said Phil, instantly; "don't you remember that he told us long ago she used to teach school down in Pensacola, or somewhere else?"

"Well, you'd hardly believe it now," muttered Larry; for the woman was very much like the others of the squatter village, in that her dress was homely.

But Phil noticed that her hair was neatly arranged; and despite her coa.r.s.e attire there was a certain air of refinement about her.

Tony had evidently managed to give her an inkling, not only as to the ident.i.ty of his new friends, but how they had been so good to him. She was smiling as she advanced, even though Phil could also see a shadow of anxiety on her face.

"She ought to know the McGee, if anybody does," he thought. "And she is afraid he'll be mean toward us, and think only of striking a blow at the man he has come to hate without any real cause."

It was not a pleasant thought, and Phil tried hard to get it out of his mind by advancing to meet Tony and his mother. McGee, as if convinced that escape was utterly impossible, did not seem to pay much attention to his prisoners, once he had brought them safely to the village. He was talking to the two old men, and probably telling them just who Phil was, for they could be seen scowling as they glanced toward the boy.

"This is him, mother," said Tony, pointing to Phil, whose hand he hastened to grip.

Phil saw the eyes of the wife of McGee survey him closely. Perhaps she had half expected to see some sort of wild animal; for surely such a stern, cold-blooded tyrant as Doctor Lancing had been pictured to these ignorant people of the swamp lands he owned, could only have a son of like character. But if so her disappointment was complete.

"I am glad to meet you, Philip," she said, in a soft, Southern voice, and with all the refining influences about it that years among these strange people could not banish. "My son Tony tells me you have been very kind to him. I only wish I could say I was glad you have come; but my husband has conceived a most dreadful feeling toward your father; and I am afraid it will fall heavily upon you. All that I may do to soften his anger you can count on; but I fear it will not be of much avail, when once his temper is aroused."

Phil pressed her hand with great pleasure. He saw that despite her constant a.s.sociation with such demoralizing influences, Mrs. McGee was still a true Southern gentlewoman. And as a morsel of yeast may leaven the entire lump of dough, so her presence here in the midst of such unruly elements might yet prove their salvation.

"Oh! I'm not afraid, ma'am, I promise you," he replied, laughing as he spoke; although he really did not feel one-half so merry as he made out; for he could see the baleful eyes of the watching McGee fastened upon them at that minute, as he stood not far away. "I came here on purpose to meet McGee. I carry a letter from my father, in which he asks the a.s.sistance of every man in this place to build up a lumber business here on the river, and market the stuff at top-notch prices.

It would mean money right along for every worker; it would mean that each family might have a patch of land all their own, as big as they could work for a garden; and it would mean that from this time on the women of this place would be able to have the things they should. I am telling you this, ma'am, so you can carry it to the other women; because, perhaps in the end, we may have to depend on their influence to swing the men around. And that is the message my father sends. He wants to be the friend of you all; and he's coming down here himself to prove that his letter stands for the truth!"

And as the poor woman saw the brightness of the picture he painted tears came unbidden into her eyes, and she turned hastily away to hide her emotion.

CHAPTER XXI

A GLOOMY OUTLOOK

"What can we do, Phil?"

As Larry put this question he looked mournfully at his chum, and tried to keep from shivering, though it was indeed hard work.

The night had pa.s.sed. Both boys had been allowed a chance to secure some sleep, having been placed in an empty shanty; but as neither of them dared lie down on the straw that formed a rude couch on the board floor, they were compelled to "s.n.a.t.c.h a few winks," as Larry termed it, sitting up.

In the morning they had been fed, after a fashion. Larry bemoaned the fact that while he had to partake of the unsavory mess or go hungry, all that fine "grub" was going to waste on the Aurora, not more than a mile away.

Phil did not show the anxiety he felt. Since coming into personal contact with the terrible McGee he had lost some of the enthusiasm and confidence that had up to then marked his actions. The leader of the squatter clan was so much more formidable than he had antic.i.p.ated, that Phil himself began to fear his mission was doomed to be a failure.

It was a serious outlook they faced, particularly Phil. They might allow Larry to get off scot free, since he was not a Lancing, and looked so innocent of any wrong intent; but with Phil the matter was different.

What if the stubborn giant utterly refused to believe the good intentions of the new owner of the cypress swamp lands? What if he felt convinced that it was all a sly trick; and that the millionaire had sent his son down simply to take notes, in order that presently the sheriff, backed by the State troops, could enforce the edict of eviction?