The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp
Page 6
CHAPTER VI. IN DIREST PERIL.
The wildest confusion ensued. Fortunately, the drop was a short one, andbeyond a few scratches and bruises, neither boy was hurt. The lamp, bysome strange fatality, was not put out, but rolled off the table. AsStonington Hunt sprang at him, Tubby seized it. He brandished itthreateningly.
"The Boy Scouts!" shouted Stonington Hunt, the first to recover from hisstupefaction at the sudden interruption to their slumbers.
He dashed at Tubby, who swung the lamp for an instant--it was his onlyweapon--and then dashed it, like a smoky meteor, full at the advancingman's head.
It missed him by the fraction of an inch, or he would have been turnedinto a living torch.
Crash!
The lamp struck the opposite wall, and was shattered into a thousandfragments. Instantly the place was plunged in darkness, total andabsolute. At the same instant a sharp report sounded. It seemed doublyloud in the tiny place. The fumes of the powder filled it reekingly.
"Don't shoot!" roared Stonington Hunt. "Guard the door and window. Don'tlet them get away."
"All right, dad," the boys heard Freeman Hunt cry loudly, as he scuffledacross the room.
"Keep the doorway and the window," shouted Stonington Hunt. "I'll have alight in a jiffy. We've got them like two rats in a cage."
As he struck a match and lit a boat lantern that stood on a shelf, a lowgroan came from one corner of the room. Hiram was horrified to perceivethat it was Tubby who uttered it. The shot must have wounded him, firedat haphazard, as it had been. The man who had aimed it, the beardedmember of the gang, stood grimly by the doorway.
Almost beside himself at the hopelessness of their situation, Hiram gazedabout him. All at once he noticed that on Tubby's chest a crimson stainwas slowly spreading. The stout boy lay quite still except for anoccasional quiver and groan. Without a thought as to his danger, Hiramdisregarded Stonington Hunt's next injunction: "Don't move a step."
Swiftly he crossed to his wounded comrade. He sank on his knees besidehim.
"T-T-T-Tubby," he exclaimed, "are you badly hurt, old man?"
To his amazement, the recumbent Tubby gave him a swift but knowing wink,and then, rolling over on his side again, resumed his groaning once more.Mystified, but comforted, Hiram was rising, when a rough hand seized himand sent him spinning to an opposite corner. It was the burly form of thebearded man that had propelled him.
"Not so rough, Jim Dale," warned Stonington Hunt. "We've got them wherethey can't escape. Lots of time to get what we want out of them."
"The pesky young spies," snorted Jim Dale, "I wonder how much theyoverheard of what we said."
"It don't matter, anyhow," put in his beardless companion of theafternoon. "They won't have no chance to tell it."
"Guess that's right, Pete Bumpus," struck in the bearded man. SuddenlyHiram felt a stinging slap across the face. He turned and faced youngFreeman Hunt.
"How do you like that, eh?" snarled the youth viciously. "Here is where Ipay you out for what you Scout kids did to me when we lived in Hampton."
He was stepping forward to deliver another blow, when Hiram duckedswiftly, and put into execution a maneuver Rob had shown him. As Freeman,a bigger and heavier lad, rushed forward, Hiram's long leg and his longleft arm shot out simultaneously. The leg engaged Freeman's ankle, andthe Yankee lad's fist encountered the other's chin with a sharp crack.Freeman Hunt fell in a heap on the floor. Hiram braced himself for anattack by the whole four. But it didn't come. Instead, they seemed tothink it a good joke.
"That will teach you to keep your temper," laughed the boy's fatherroughly; "plenty of time to punch him and pummel him when we have themtied up."
"Maybe I won't do it, too," promised Freeman, gathering himself up, witha crestfallen look.
Stonington Hunt stepped up to Hiram.
"Tell me the truth, you young brat," he snarled; "are the police afterus?"
Hiram pondered an instant before answering. Then he decided on a courseof action. Possibly it was a bad one, judging by the immediate results.
"Yes, they are," he said boldly, "and if you don't let us loose, you'llget in trouble."
Stonington Hunt paused irresolutely. Then he said:
"Get the sloop ready, boys. We'll get out of here on the jump."
A few moments later Hiram's hands were bound and he was led on board thecraft the boys had noticed lying in the creek. A plank connected it withthe shore. Tubby, still groaning, was carried on board and thrown down inthe bow beside Hiram.
"We'll attend to him after a while," said Hunt brutally; "if he's badlywounded it's his own fault, for meddling in other folks' affairs."
One of the men went below. Presently there came a sharp chug-chug, andthe anchor being taken in, the sloop began to move off down the creek. AsTubby Hopkins had surmised, she had an engine. Hunt, Jim Dale and PeterBumpus stood in the bow. Hiram leaned disconsolately against a stay, andTubby lay at his feet on a coil of rope.
The shores slipped rapidly by, and pretty soon the creek began to widen.
Freeman Hunt was at the wheel, and from time to time Jim Dale shouteddirections back at him.
"Port--port! Hard over!" or again, "Hard over! Starboard! There's a shoalright ahead!"
A moon had risen now, and in the silvery light the darker water of theshoals, of which the creek seemed full, showed plainly.
"This crik's as full of sand-bars as a hound dorg is uv fleas," gruntedJim Dale. "It won't be full tide for two hours or more, either. If----"
There came a sudden, grinding jar.
"Hard over! Hard over!" bellowed Jim Dale.
Freeman Hunt spun the wheel like a squirrel in its cage. But it was toolate. The sloop had grounded hard and fast. Leaving Peter Bumpus to guardthe boys, Jim Dale and the elder Hunt leaped swiftly aft. They backed themotor, but it was no use. The sloop was too hard aground to be gotten offtill the water rose.
"Two hours to wait till the tide rises," grumbled Jim Dale; "just likethe luck."
Slowly the time passed. But never for an instant was the watch over theboys relaxed. Tubby lay still, and Hiram, almost carried out of himselfby the rapid rush of recent events, leaned miserably against the stay.
At last, just as a faint, gray light began to show in the east, theycould feel the sloop moving under their feet. With reversed motor, shewas backed off the sand-bar, or mud-shoal, and the journey resumed. Asthe light grew stronger, Hiram saw that they were dropping rapidly downtoward the sea. Right ahead of them could now be seen the white foam andspray, where the breakers of the open sea were shattering themselves onthe bar at the mouth of the creek.
The channel was narrow and intricate, but Jim Dale, who seemed to be agood pilot, and who had assumed the wheel, brought the sloop through itin safety. Before long, under her keel could be felt the long lift anddrive of the open Atlantic.
By gazing at the sun, Hiram saw that the sloop's head was pointed west.By this he judged that her navigators meant to head down the Long Islandshore toward New York.
The sunrise was red and angry. Hiram, with his knowledge of scout-lore,knew that this presaged bad weather. But the crew of the sloop did notseem to notice it. After a while they began to make preparations to hoistsail, as the breeze was freshening.
"Take those kids below," ordered Stonington Hunt suddenly. Under theescort of Jim Dale, who had relinquished the wheel to Freeman Hunt andPete Bumpus, the lads--Tubby being carried--were presently installed in asmall, dark cabin in the stern of the sloop. This done, the companionwaydoor was closed, and they heard a key grate in a lock. They wereprisoners, then, at sea, on this mysterious sloop?
"What next?" groaned Hiram to himself, sinking down on a locker.
"Why, I guess the next thing to do is for me to come to life, my valiantdowneaster," cried Tubby, springing erect from the corner into which hehad been thrown. The apparently badly wounded lad seemed as active andchipper as ever.