My Brave and Gallant Gentleman Part 47

Five strange men were now in the cabin, which was cloudy with tobacco smoke. The carousal had increased rather than otherwise. The men were gathered round Jake, laughing and cursing in wild derision. They were not interested in me at the moment, so I stayed quiet, making pretence that the unconsciousness was still upon me, whenever any of them turned in my direction.

Through my half-opened eyelids, I fancied I recognised the leader of the crowd as a black-haired, beady-eyed, surly dog of a logger who had come in several times from Camp No. 2 to help with the taking up of their supplies,--but of his ident.i.ty I was not quite certain.

As my scattered senses began to collect, I hoped against hope that these men would keep up their drinking bout until not one of them would be able to stand. But, while they drank long and drank deeply, they were too wise by far to overdo it.

Then I got to wondering what they were badgering old Jake about, for I could hear him growl and curse, his gag having fallen to the floor.

"Go to h.e.l.l and take the trunk, the booze and the whole caboose with you, if you want to. I don't want none of it. I ain't hoggin' booze any more."

"Ho, ho! Hear that," yelled the big, black-haired individual, "he ain't boozin'! The old swiller ain't boozin' and him keeps a keg o'

whisky under his nose.

"Ain't boozin' with common ginks like us,--that's what he means.

"Come on! We'll show him whether he ain't boozin' or not."

He got a cupful of the raw spirits and stuck it to Jake's mouth. But Jake shook his head.

"Come on! Drink it up or I'll sling it down your gullet."

Still Jake refused.

Then my blood ran cold, and boiled again. The veins stood out on my forehead with rage.

The foul-mouthed creature hit my old helper full across the mouth and a trickle of blood immediately began to flow down over Jake's chin.

I struggled silently with my ropes, but they were taut and merely cut into my flesh. But I made the discovery then, that my captors had failed to take into account that the bed to which they had tied me had been put up by Jake and, at that, not any too securely.

I felt that if I threw all my weight away from the stanchion to which I was bound, I might be able to pull the whole thing out bodily. But I knew that this was not the moment for such an attempt.

They were five men to one; they had sticks and clubs, maybe revolvers, so what chance would I have?

I decided to bear with the goading of Jake as long as it were possible.

"Guess you'll drink it now,--you old, white-livered miser," cried the dark man.

He dashed some of the liquor in Jake's face. Jake opened his mouth and gasped. The big bully then threw the remainder of the spirits, with a splash, sheer into Jake's mouth.

"He boozed that time, boys. You bet your socks!" he laughed uproariously. The others joined in the hilarity.

The Jake I looked upon after that was not the Jake I had known for the past few months.

He sat staring in front of him for a little while, then he exclaimed huskily, almost hungrily:

"Say, fellows! Give us some more. It tastes pretty good to me."

"Thought he would come to it," shouted the black-haired man triumphantly. "We ain't refusin' no booze to-night. Fetch a cup o'

rye for Jake."

One of the others brought it, and it was held to the old man's lips.

He let it over his throat almost at a single gulp.

"More,--more!"

More was brought, and again he drank.

Three times Jake emptied that br.i.m.m.i.n.g cup of raw spirits.

I shivered with abhorrence at the sight.

"More?" queried the big man.

"Yep! More," craved Jake.

"Nothin' doin'! You've had enough, you old booze-fighter.

"Say! How's that top-notcher swell Bremner comin' on?"

He turned to me.

"Let's fill him up, too."

They came over to me, but I pretended still to be unconscious. My head was limply bent over my chest.

They jerked it up by my forelock and looked into my face.

The foulness of their breath almost nauseated me, but I stood the test, keeping my eyes tightly closed and allowing my head to flop forward the moment it was released from their clutch.

"What in the h.e.l.l did you hit him so hard for?" cried the leader, turning savagely to the man at his left elbow. "We ain't lookin' for any rope-collars over this. Guess we'd better beat it. Get busy with that chest some of you. Come on!"

They raised their masks from their mouths and had another drink all round, then two of them, under the big man's directions, caught up the chest, and they all crowded out and down toward their boat.

The moment after they were gone I threw my weight and growing strength away from the upright to which I was bound. It creaked and groaned. I tried again, and still again. At the third attempt, the entire fixtures fell on top of me to the floor.

I struggled clear of the debris, and the rest was easy. I slipped the ropes from the wooden post and, in their now loosened condition, I wriggled free.

I did not wait to do anything for Jake, nor yet to consider any plan of operation. My blood was up and that was all I knew.

I picked my axe-handle from the floor and dashed out after the robbers.

The five men were with the boat at the water's edge. Two were sitting at the oars in readiness, two were on the beach raising Jake's trunk to the fifth man who was standing in the stern of the boat.

I sprang upon them. I hit one, with a sickening crash, over the head.

He let go his hold of the trunk and toppled limply against the side of the boat, as the trunk splashed into the shallow water.

I staggered with the impetus, and from the impact of my blow let my club drop from my jarred hand. Before I could recover, the big man,--who had been helping to raise the trunk,--bore down on me. He caught me by the throat in a horrible grip, and tried to press me backward; but, with a short-arm blow, I smashed him over the mouth with telling force, cutting my knuckles in a splutter of blood and broken teeth.

His grip loosened. He shouted to his fellows for a.s.sistance as he sprang at me once more.