CHAPTER VIII.
THE VISITORS.
THE boys glanced up from their work from time to time at the rapidlyapproaching motor boat.
"My, but she is a fast one!" commented Charley, noting the crest offoam at her bow and the rapid popping of her exhaust. "I believe she isas fast, or faster, than our 'Dixie.'"
Within a few minutes after they had sighted her, she was near enoughfor the chums to distinguish her passengers or crew.
"Why, the man at the wheel is that fisherman Hunter," Walter exclaimed,"and there are four more with him, some of his gang, I suppose."
"I wonder what they want with us," speculated the captain, uneasily.
"Nothing pleasant, I guess," said Charley, gravely. "I believe thosefellows are bent on making trouble for us. Let's not have any wordswith them, if we can help it. If we have got to have a fuss with 'em atall though, I guess now is as good a time as ever. I'll get Chris outof the way," he added, in an undertone to Walter. "He does not knowyet that he is the innocent cause of our trouble, and there is no useletting him if we can help it. It would make the poor little chap feelawfully bad."
As soon as it was apparent beyond all doubt that the launch was comingin to the little dock, he called the little negro to one side.
"I want you to go up to the cabin and stay there until I call you," hedirected. "If I give one long whistle, come a running and bring therifle with you."
The little negro was barely out of sight, when the big launch, itsengine shut off, glided in to the dock.
Besides the sallow-faced Hunter, it contained four fellows almost asvicious and mean looking as himself. Hunter made the launch fast to apost and climbed out on the dock followed by his companions.
Our little party greeted the visitors with a pleasant good morning.
"Good morning," grunted Hunter with a snarl, "I didn't come all the wayover here just to say good morning though."
"Then what did you come for?" demanded Walter curtly, his quick temperbeginning to flare up at the fellow's insolent tones.
"I am going to let you know mighty quick," snarled Hunter. "Youbrought that little nigger over here with you, didn't you?"
"We did," Charley answered briefly.
"Well, you-all have got to get off this island--and get off of itmighty quick," he declared.
"Why," Captain Westfield demanded, his own anger beginning to rise.
"First place, 'cause you ain't got any right to stay here. This islandbelongs to a friend of mine and I've got charge of it."
Charley was keeping his temper well in hand though he was as angryas his chums. "We have been advised that this island belongs to thestate," he said, coolly, "and we believe what we have been told. Wehave got as much right on state land as you or any one else."
"Well, I give you notice to get off right away. We don't allow noniggers in the fishing business 'round hyar."
"Now look here, Hunter," Charley said coolly, "you fellows objected toour having the little negro with us on the dock. Very well, we movedover here to avoid trouble. Now you come over here and try to order usoff this island which we have as many rights to as you. That's goingtoo far and we are not going to stand for it."
"We ain't going to have no niggers fishing 'round hyar," repeatedHunter doggedly.
"Chris is not going to do any fishing. He is our cook--and a mightygood one too."
"Don't make any difference. You fellows have got to get off thisisland."
"Which we refuse to do," Charley said defiantly.
"Amen to that," agreed Captain Westfield, hotly.
"You'll have a hard job making us," chimed in Walter.
Hunter's sallow face reddened with anger. "If you smart Alecks ain'toff this island before to-morrow night you'll get what's coming toyou," he snarled.
"Look here, Hunter," Charley said, quietly, "it strikes me you are alittle bit too anxious to get us to leave here and I think I know thereason. Now you fellows had better get in your boat and go. We wantnothing to do with you and your gang. We will tend to our own businessand you had better tend to yours. If you bother us any more, well, Iknow of an officer who would be willing to pay a good big sum to knowabout a strange craft that haunts this coast in the night, and a motorboat that answers her signals."
It was a chance shot on Charley's part but it went home.
"We wasn't out at all last night," denied Hunter. "We were all in bed,didn't even go fishing."
"I never mentioned last night," said Charley, quickly, and Huntermuttered a curse as he saw the slip he had made.
"You're only doing a lot of wild guessing, and guessing ain't proof,"he snarled. "Take all the guesses you want to your officer. He won't doanything. He's got to have proofs."
Charley realized with regret that his veiled threat had failed, but hetried not to show his chagrin.
"Leave here," he ordered. "Get into your boat and go."
"I'm leaving right now," Hunter snarled. "But you'll be leaving herefor good before two days are gone. Before I go, I'm going to slap youaround a bit to teach you some manners, you young whelp. Look out forthem other two, boys, while I give this smart Aleck a dressing down."
His companions drawing their sheath knives, crowded threateninglytowards Walter and the captain while he lunged forward at Charley whostood his ground a little pale but unafraid. He came at the lad with arush, both fists swinging. "Keep back," Charley cried, but Hunter aimeda swinging blow at his head with all his force.
Charley ducked with the quickness he had learned in a Y. M. C. A. gymand at the same instant drove his right fist forward with all of hisweight behind it. It caught the sallow fisherman fair on his chin andsent him reeling backwards. He staggered and almost fell but recoveringhimself with an oath whipped out his sheath knife and came rushing atthe plucky lad.
It was a desperate situation. A lightning glance out of the corner ofhis eye showed Charley he could expect no help from his chums. Theywere menaced by the three ruffians with upraised knives. Their ownknives lay in their fishing belts up in the cabin. No stick or clubwas within his reach. It was a case of bare hands against naked steel.Hunter came at him with a savage thrust. The lad leaped lightly to oneside to avoid it. His foot slipped on a mossy rock and down he went onthe sand.
With a yell of triumph the fishermen leaped for him as he layhalf-dazed by his fall.
Crack, crack, crack came three sharp reports and the shrill whine ofwhistling bullets sang above the prostrate lad.
The effect on the fishermen was startling.
With a cry Hunter turned and ran for the launch and his companionscrowding at his heels.
"We'll get you yet," he yelled as he hurriedly cast off. "We'll get youwhen you ain't got that little nigger behind a tree guarding you witha gun. We"--but his curses were lost in the crackle of the engine ashe threw on the switch.
Walter and the captain hurried to Charley and helped him up from thesand.
"I am all right," he declared as soon as he was on his feet. "I camedown so hard it knocked the wind out of me for a moment but I am allright now."
"Chris shot just in time," Walter exclaimed. "I thought you were goingto be killed before our eyes."
"I don't believe they would have gone that far," said his chum. "Huntermight have beat me up a bit but I think he aimed to frighten us off theisland more than anything else."
"I wonder why he is so anxious to drive us away from here," ponderedWalter, puzzledly.
"That's easy to tell," Charles declared. "His gang are smugglingaguardiente here from Cuba. That was the meaning of that schooner, themotor boat, and those signals last night. I found a cache of the stuffin that cleared place this morning. There must be five hundred bottlesof it."
"Then all we have to do is to tell the sheriff and he'll put the gangwhere they will not bother us any more," Walter exclaimed in relief.
"That's what I tried to bluff Hunter into thinking," replied his chum,"but it did not work. You see, we have got no proofs and he knows it.We s
ee a schooner at night acting queerly, also a motor boat, andwe find a stock of aguardiente buried on the island, but that provesnothing against the Hunter gang or anyone else for that matter. Ofcourse, I feel sure that they are the guilty ones but that isn't proof."
"I reckon we are in something of a mess," said Captain Westfield,worriedly. "We are going to have trouble with those fellows sure. Theycan't carry on such a game with us here on the island, and it ain'tlikely they are going to stay quiet and lose all that stuff they've gotcached."
"It looks bad," Charley admitted, gravely. "We must talk it overcarefully and decide what is best to do. But where's Chris? It's funnyhe don't show himself. Something must be the matter."
With a sudden alarm, Charley hastened up for the cabin, followed by hischums.
As soon as he came in sight of the hut, he slackened his speed with asigh of relief for the little negro was seated in the doorway with therifle in his hands.
"Good work, Chris," he exclaimed. "Your shots came just in the nick oftime. I am glad you didn't hit any of them though."
"I ain't shot none, Massa Chas," protested the little negro. "You duntole me to stay right hyar till you whistle an' you ain't whistledyet."
"Then where did those shots come from?" Charley demanded.
"Hit sounded like dey come from where you-alls was," Chris declared.
"Then they must have come from the fringe of palms close to the beach,"Charley decided. "Well, some one on the island has done us a good turnand we better look him up and thank him. Likely he didn't want to beseen and recognized by Hunter."
But at the end of an hour they were back at the cabin, a thoroughlymystified little group. They had been all over their little domain butno sign of a human being had they discovered.
The Boy Chums Cruising in Florida Waters Page 8