CHAPTER IV.
THE WARNING.
CHRIS had started a brisk fire in the box of sand and was preparing tofry a big mess of fish which had fallen victims to his craft.
"Golly!" he exclaimed when the boys offered their assistance, "I doanwant none ob you white chillens foolin' around an' spoilin' dese fish.If you-alls wants to help, jes' light up de lanterns an' sot de table."
Charley groped around, found the matches, and struck a light. "Whydidn't you get more than one lantern, Walt?" he complained. "We willneed four when we get to fishing."
"I bought four. They are hanging right there on the wall," his chumreplied.
"There's only one here," Charley announced. "Are you sure you got four?"
"Of course," Walter replied. "Maybe some of us moved them, when we werefixing up the shack."
But a close search of the shack failed to reveal the missing lights.
"They have been stolen," Charley said, quietly. "We had better look andsee if anything else has been taken."
But Walter was already looking over his purchases. "Nearly all ourgroceries are gone," he cried.
The band of chums gazed at each other in dismay.
"It must have been done while we were working with the launch," Charleysaid. "Chris, did you see any one go into the shack?"
"No, Massa Chas," the little negro confessed. "De fish was jes'naturally biting so fast dat I doan look around much."
"What shall we do about it?" Walter inquired.
"I don't see as we can do anything," said Charley, thoughtfully. "Wewill just have to grin and bear it and be more careful in the future.Of course, it was one of those fishermen who did it, there was no oneelse on the dock,--but we have no clue as to which was the guilty oneand we can not accuse all of them."
"Wisely said, my lad," approved Captain Westfield, "all we can do is tokeep quiet and watch out in the future. We evidently have some toughcharacters for neighbors. Let's not mourn and get downhearted, thatwon't bring the things back. Here Chris has got a good supper ready.Let's get at it and be cheerful."
The boys recognizing the wisdom of the old sailor's advice, and hidingtheir disappointment, they made merry over the crisp, tasty, friedfish, pancakes, and coffee that the little negro had prepared.
As soon as the supper things were cleared away, Captain Westfieldproduced his old worn, well-loved Bible and read the story of Christwith the discouraged fishermen, after which he prayed earnestly andwith simple faith for the Lord's blessing upon them in the new lifeupon which they were about to enter.
Just as he concluded, there came the sound of shuffling footstepsoutside, and a bit of rustling white paper was shoved in under the doorof the shack.
Charley picked it up and glanced at the ill-written scrawl itcontained. With an angry gleam in his eyes, he flung open the door andpeeped outside. The retreating footsteps had died away, and he coulddistinguish nothing in the inky darkness but the glimmering lights inthe other shacks.
He closed and fastened the door carefully.
"What was it?" Walter asked, noting the grim, set look on his chum'sface.
"Nothing much," Charley replied with a meaning glance. "I'll tell youabout it later."
As soon as Chris, who was always early to bed, was snoring peacefullyon his blanket, Charley produced the scrap of paper.
"What do you think of that?" he asked, briefly.
Walter and the captain bent their heads over the almost illegiblescrawl.
Walter looked up from the paper, his face flushed with anger. "It's anoutrage!" he cried. "Why I'd die first."
"Read it to me, Walt," requested the Captain. "I can't make out thatwriting."
Walter obeyed.
"Strangers,
"We-alls don't allow no niggers around hyar. Get rid of that little nigger you've got with you or it will be worse for him and worse for you.
"The White Caps."
The old sailor fairly exploded with wrath as he listened. "By the keelof the Flying Dutchman," he shouted, "that little darkey is better thana shipload of thieving fishermen. I just wish I had my hands on thefellow that dared write that thing."
"Poor little Chris," Walter exclaimed. "He is as noble a little fellowas ever lived. His skin may be black but he's white, clean white,inside. Think of the times he's risked his life for us and how good,honest and uncomplaining he has always been. Get rid of Chris, never!"
"Of course not," Charley agreed. "The question is what are we going todo. I wouldn't say anything about it while Chris was awake because Iknew how terribly bad it would make him feel,--he is a sensitive littlefellow, but what are we going to do? The fellow or fellows, who wrotethis are liable to do something to him at the first good opportunitythey have, especially if he is not warned and on his guard."
"Give up all idea of fishing and leave this place, before we part withChris," declared Captain Westfield.
"Not much," cried Walter. "Just tell those fishermen, one and all, thatChris stays with us. And if they do him the slightest injury, we willmake them suffer for it."
"I don't like either course you propose," observed thoughtful,clear-headed Charley. "As for the Captain's plan, I don't want to leavehere. We have a good prospect of making money here if we can stick itout and we are in poor shape to pick up and leave. Besides I don't likethe idea of being forced out of a place by any one. I don't think muchbetter of what Walt proposes either. We are no match for a hundredfishermen, and it is foolish to make threats when one can not carrythem out. In the second place, if we quarrel with the fishermen overChris, it will make them more bitter against him and more certain to dohim an injury. Lastly, nothing we could do to them for an injury doneChris would help him any after the injury was done. What we need to dois to protect him from any possible harm."
"Well, let's have your plan," Walter said.
"I have none as yet," Charley confessed. "I propose we wait untilmorning before we decide on any course. Some plan will occur to us, Iam sure. There is always a way out of any difficulty if one only thinkshard enough. I am dead tired and I'm going to bed and try to forgetabout this trouble until morning. I'd advise you two to do the same."
It had been a very full and eventful day and Walter and the Captainwere not loath to follow Charley's example. The three crept into theirblankets and turned out the lantern; but, tired as they were, they werenot to get the sleep they longed for. From the other shacks came thevoices of their occupants gradually increasing in number and volume.At first, it seemed as though a kind of celebration was in progress;for the sound of laughter, songs, and dancing filled the air, butgradually, the uproar took on a rougher note. Voices were raised inanger, curses were bandied back and forth, and now and then came thesound of fighting.
"I believe they are all drunk or fast getting drunk," Charley declared.
"Why, I understood Mr. Daniels to say that this was a dry town andthat no liquor was allowed in the place," said his chum.
"Yes, and he also said that there was more liquor drunk here than inany other town in the state," Charley amended. "He says it's a mysterywhere it comes from. The town authorities it seems, keep a close watchfor blind tigers and also keep an eye on the packages that come byfreight and express but none of it seems to come in that way."
"Well, it evidently comes in some way," remarked Captain Westfield as afresh uproar of fighting arose from the dock.
It was useless to try to sleep as long as the din continued, so thethree lay talking in low tones.
"Hark!" cried Charley, suddenly. "I wonder what they have done now."
Loud and clear above the din of fighting rang the sharp crack of apistol. The report was followed by excited shouting and then silence.
"I'll bet one of them has been shot and it has frightened and soberedup the rest," Walter exclaimed. "Let's go out and see."
"No, you don't, lad," Captain Westfield declared, firmly. "You'll stayhere if I have to hold you. It's none of our
trouble and we don't anyof us want to get mixed up in it."
Whatever had happened, it had effectually quieted the wild revelry.Our little party lay for awhile listening but the silence remainedunbroken and one by one, they at last dropped off to sleep.
It was perhaps midnight when Walter raised up on his elbow andwhispered softly.
"Are you asleep, Charley?"
"As wide awake as I ever was in my life," his chum grunted. "Why,anything the matter with you?"
"Something is stinging me to death," declared Walter, anxiously, "Ismart, burn, and itch all over."
"Me too," chimed in the captain's voice, "I've laid quiet here and tookit rather than wake you boys up. Jehosaphat, what is it?"
Charley chuckled. "It's nothing dangerous," he explained, "evidentlywe are entertaining a few thousand of those fishermen's closestfriends--bedbugs. Light up the lantern, Walt, and let's have a look."
An examination by the light showed their faces and bodies covered withred, angry-looking blotches.
"There's no use trying to sleep here," Charley declared. "Let's go outon board the 'Dixie.' It will be pretty close quarters sleeping in hercabin but anything is better than this."
"But our things will be all stolen," Walter objected.
"They will not bother anything to-night for they will think we areinside, and we will be back before they are up in the morning," saidhis chum.
Chris was awakened and the four crept softly out of the shack closingthe door carefully behind them.
To reach their skiff, they had to pass the other shacks. As they cameopposite the first one Charley, who was in the lead, stopped short witha muffled cry of horror.
The Boy Chums Cruising in Florida Waters Page 4