“We didn’t bring much,” answered Randolph Rover, who began to smell a mouse.
“How mooch?”
“About two hundred pounds.”
“Humph, a thousand dollars!” sneered Baxter. “That won’t do at all.”
“You must haf brought more!” cried the French brigand angrily.
“Not much more.”
“You leave zat in Boma, wid ze bankers, eh?”
“Yes.”
“But you haf von big lettair of credit, not so?”
“Yes, we have a letter of credit,” answered Randolph Rover. “But that won’t do you any good, nor the money at the banker’s neither.”
“Ve see about zat, monsieur. Proceed,” and Captain Villaire waved his hand toward Dan Baxter.
“This is the situation in a nutshell, to come right down to business,” said the former bully of Putnam Hall coolly. “You are our prisoners, and you can’t get away, no matter how hard you try. Captain Villaire and his men, as well as myself, are in this affair to make money. The question is, what is your liberty worth to you?”
“So you intend to work such a game?” demanded Dick.
“That’s the game, yes.”
“Well, I shan’t pay you a cent.”
“Don’t be a fool, Dick Rover. We are not to be trifled with.”
“Well, I haven’t any money, and that ends it. You already have all I had.”
“Then you will have to foot the bill,” continued Dan Baxter, turning to Randolph Rover.
“If you value your liberty you will pay us what we demand.”
“And what do you demand?” questioned Mr. Rover.
“We demand twenty thousand dollars—ten thousand for the liberty of each.”
This demand nearly took away Randolph Rover’s breath.
“Twenty thousand dollars!” he gasped. “It is—is preposterous!”
“Is it? You are worth a good deal more than that, Mr. Rover. And I am demanding only what is fair.”
“You shall never get the money.”
“Won’t we?”
“Never!”
“Perhaps you’ll sing a different tune in a few, days—after your stomachs get empty,” responded Dan Baxter, with a malicious gleam in his fishy eyes. “So you mean to starve us into acceding to your demands,” said Dick. “Baxter, I always did put you down as a first-class rascal. If you keep, on, you’ll be more of a one than your father.”
In high rage the former bully of Putnam Hall strode forward and without warning struck the defenseless Dick a heavy blow on the cheek.
“That, for your impudence,” he snarled. “You keep a civil tongue in your head. If you don’t—” He finished with a shake of his fist.
“You had bettair make up your mind to pay ze monish,” said Captain Villaire, after a painful pause. “It will be ze easiest way out of ze situation for you.”
“Don’t you pay a cent, Uncle Randolph,” interrupted Dick quickly. Then Baxter hit him again, such a stinging blow that he almost lost consciousness.
“For shame!” ejaculated Mr. Rover. “He is tied up, otherwise you would never have the courage to attack him. Baxter, have you no spirit of fairness at all in your composition?”
“Don’t preach—I won’t listen to it!” fumed the bully. “You have got to pay that money. If you don’t—well, I don’t believe you’ll ever reach America alive, that’s all.”
With these words Dan Baxter withdrew, followed by Captain Villaire.
“You think za will pay?” queried the French brigand anxiously.
“To be sure they will pay. They value their lives too much to refuse. Just wait until they have suffered the pangs of hunger and thirst, and you’ll see how they change their tune.”
“You are certain za have ze monish?”
“Yes; they are rich. It will only be a question of waiting for the money after they send for it.”
“I vill not mind zat.”
“Neither will I—if we are safe here. You don’t think anybody will follow us?”
“Not unless za find ze way up from ze rivair. Za cannot come here by land, because of ze swamps,” answered the Frenchman. “And ze way from ze rivair shall be well guarded from now on,” he added.
CHAPTER XIX
WHAT HAPPENED TO TOM AND SAM
Let us return to Tom and Sam, at the time they were left alone at Binoto’s hostelry.
“I wish we had gone with Dick and Uncle Randolph,” said Tom, as he slipped into his coat and shoes. “I don’t like this thing at all.”
“Oh, don’t get scared before you are hurt, Tom!” laughed his younger brother. “These people out here may be peculiar, but—”
Sam did not finish. A loud call from the woods had reached his ears, and in alarm he too began to dress, at the same time reaching for his pistol and the money belt which Randolph Rover had left behind.
“I—I guess something is wrong,” he went on, after a pause. “If we—”
“Tom! Sam! look out fo’ yourselves!” came from Aleck, and in a second more the negro, burst on their view. “Come, if yo’ is dressed!” he added.
“Where to?” asked Tom hurriedly.
“Anywhar, Massah Tom. De others is took prisoners! Come!” And Aleck almost dragged the boy along.
The Rover boys could readily surmise that Aleck would not act in this highly excited manner unless there was good cause for it. Consequently, as Sam said afterward, “They didn’t stand on the order of their going, but just flew.” Pell-mell out of the hostelry they tumbled, and ran up the highway as rapidly as their nimble limbs would permit.
They heard several men coming after them, and heard the command “Halt!” yelled after them in both French and bad English. But they did not halt until a sudden tumble on Tom’s part made the others pause in dismay.
“Oh, great Caesar!” groaned the fun-loving Rover, and tried to stand up. “I guess I’ve twisted my ankle.”
“Can’t you even walk?” asked Sam.
“We ain’t got no time ter lose!” panted Aleck, who was almost winded. “If we stay here we’ll be gobbled up—in no time, dat’s shuah!”
“Let us try to carry Tom,” said Sam, and attempted to lift his brother up. But the load made him stagger.
“De trees—let us dun hide in, de trees!” went on the negro, struck by a certain idea. “Come on, quick!”
“Yes—yes—anything!” groaned Tom, and then shut his teeth hard to keep himself from screaming with pain.
Together they carried the suffering youth away from the highway to where there was a thick jungle of trees and tropical vines. The vines, made convenient ladders by which to get up into the trees, and soon Sam and Aleck were up and pulling poor Tom after them.
“Now we must be still,” said Aleck, when they were safe for the time being. “Hear dem a-conun’ dis way.”
The three listened and soon made out the footsteps of the approaching party. They soon passed on up the road.
“We’ve fooled them,” whispered Sam.
“But, oh, Aleck, what does it all mean?”
“It means dat yo’ uncle an’ Dick am prisoners—took by a lot of rascals under a tall, Frenchman.”
“Yes, but I don’t understand—”
“No more do I, Massah Sam, but it war best to git out, dat’s as shuah as yo’ is born,” added the colored man solemnly.
Poor Torn was having a wretched time of it with his ankle, which hurt as badly as ever and had begun to swell. As he steadied himself on one of the limbs of the tree Sam removed his shoe, which gave him a little relief.
From a distance came a shouting, and they made out through the trees the gleam of a torch. But soon the sounds died out and the light disappeared.
What should they do next? This was a question impossible to
answer.
“One thing is certain, I can’t walk just yet,” said Tom. “When I put my foot down it’s like a thousand needles darting through my leg.”
“Let us go below and hunt up some water,” said Sam; and after waiting a while longer they descended into the small brush. Aleck soon found a pool not far distant, and to this they carried Tom, and after all had had a drink, the swollen ankle was bathed, much to the sufferer’s relief.
Slowly the time dragged by until morning. As soon as the sun was up Aleck announced that he was going back to the hostelry to see how the land lay.
“But don’t expose yourself,” said Tom. “I am certain now that is a regular robbers’ resort, or worse.”
Aleck was gone the best part of three hours. When he returned he was accompanied by Cujo. The latter announced that all of the other natives had fled for parts unknown.
“The inn is deserted,” announced Aleck. Even that colored wife of the proprietor is gone.
“And did you find any trace of Dick and my uncle?” asked Sam.
“We found out where dat struggle took place,” answered, Aleck. “And Cujo reckons as how he can follow de trail if we don’t wait too long to do it.”
“Must go soon,” put in Cujo for himself.
“Maybe tomorrow come big storm—den track all washed away.”
Tom sighed and shook his head. “You can go on, but you’ll have to leave me behind. I couldn’t walk a hundred yards for a barrel of gold.”
“Oh, we can’t think of leaving you behind!” cried Sam.
“I’ll tell you wot—Ise dun carry him, at least fe a spell,” said Aleck, and so it was arranged.
Under the new order of things Cujo insisted on making a scouting tour first, that he might strike the trail before carrying them off on a circuitous route, thus tiring Aleck out before the real tracking began.
The African departed, to be gone the best Part of an hour. When he came back there was a broad grin of satisfaction on his homely features.
“Cujo got a chicken,” he announced, producing the fowl. “And here am some werry good roots, too. Now va dinner befo’ we start out.”
“Right yo’ am, Cujo!” cried Pop, and began to start up a fire without delay, while Cujo cleaned the fowl and mashed up the roots, which, when baked on a hot stone, tasted very much like sweet potatoes. The meal was enjoyed by all, even Tom eating his full share in spite of his swollen ankle, which was now gradually resuming its normal condition.
Cujo had found the trail at a distance of an eighth of a mile above the wayside hostelry. “Him don’t lead to de ribber dare,” he said. “But I dun think somet’ing of him.”
“And what do you think?” asked Tom, from his seat on Aleck’s back.
“I t’ink he go to de kolobo.”
“And what is the kolobo?” asked Sam with interest.
“De kolobo old place on ribber-place where de white soldiers shoot from big fort-house.”
“A fort!” cried Tom. “But would the authorities allow, them to go there?”
“No soldiers dare now—leave kolobo years ago. Place most tumble down now. But good place fo’ robbers.”
“I see. Well, follow the trail as best you can—and we’ll see what we will see.”
“And let us get along just as fast as we can,” added Sam.
On they went through a forest that in spots was so thick they could scarcely pass. The jungle contained every kind of tropical growth, including ferns, which were beautiful beyond description, and tiny vines so wiry that they cut like a knife.
“This is tough,” remarked Sam. “But I suppose it doesn’t hold a candle to what is beyond.”
“Werry bad further on,” answered Cujo. “See, here am de trail,” and he pointed it out.
Several miles were covered, when they came to a halt in order to rest and to give Aleck a let up in carrying Tom. The youth now declared his foot felt much better and hobbled along for some distance by leaning on Sam’s shoulder.
Presently they were startled by hearing a cry from a distance. They listened intently, then Cujo held up his hand.
“Me go an’ see about dat,” he said. “Keep out ob sight, all ob you!” And he glided into the bushes with the skill and silence of a snake.
Another wait ensued, and Tom improved the time by again bathing his foot in a pool which was discovered not far from where Cujo had left them. The water seemed to do much good, and the youth declared that by the morrow he reckoned he would be able to do a fair amount of walking if they did not progress too rapidly.
“But what a country this is!” he murmured. “I declare they could burn wood night and day for a century and never miss a stick.”
“I thought I heard some monkeys chattering a while ago,” answered Sam. “I suppose the interior is alive with them.”
“I dun see a monkey lookin’ at us now, from dat tree,” observed Aleck. “See dem shinin’ eyes back ob de leaves?” He pointed with his long forefinger, and both, boys gazed in the direction. Then Tom gave a yell.
“A monkey? That’s a snake! Look out for yourselves!”
He started back and the others did the same. And they were none too soon, for an instant later the leaves were thrust apart and a serpent’s form appeared, swaying slowly to and fro, as if contemplating a drop upon their very heads!
CHAPTER XX
THE FIGHT AT THE OLD FORT
For the instant after the serpent appeared nobody spoke or moved. The waving motion of the reptile was fascinating to the last degree, as was also that beady stare from its glittering eyes. The stare was fixed upon poor Tom, and having retreated but a few feet, he now stood as though rooted to the spot. Slowly the form of the snake was lowered, until only the end of its tail kept it up on the tree branch. Then the head and neck began to swing back and forth, in a straight line with Tom’s face.
The horrible fascination held the poor, boy as by a spell, and he could do nothing but look at those eyes, which seemed to burn themselves upon his very brain. Closer and closer, and still closer, they came to his face, until at last the reptile prepared to strike.
Crack! It was Sam’s pistol that spoke up, at just the right instant, and those beady eyes were ruined forever, and the wounded head twisted in every direction, while the body of the serpent, dropping from the tree, lashed and dashed hither and thither in its agony. Then the spell was broken, and Tom let out such a yell of terror as had never before issued from his lips.
Crack! came a second shot from Sam’s pistol. But the serpent was moving around too rapidly for a good aim to be taken, and only the tip of the tail was struck. Then, in a mad, blind fashion, the snake coiled itself upon Aleck’s foot, and began, with lightning-like rapidity, to encircle the colored man’s body.
“Help!” shrieked Aleck, trying to pull the snake off with his hands. “Help! or Ise a dead man, shuah!”
“Catch him by the neck, Aleck!” ejaculated Tom, and brought out his own pistol. Watching his chance, he pulled the trigger twice, sending both bullets straight through the reptile’s body. Then Sam fired again, and the mangled head fell to the ground.
But dead or alive the body still encircled Aleck, and the contraction threatened to cave in the colored man’s ribs.
“Pull him off somehow!” he gasped. “Pull him off!”
Crack! went Tom’s pistol once more, and now the snake had evidently had enough of it, for it uncoiled slowly and fell to the ground in a heap, where it slowly shifted from one spot to another until life was extinct. But neither the boys nor the colored man waited to see if it was really dead. Instead, they took to their heels and kept on running until the locality was left a considerable distance behind.
“That was a close shave,” said Tom, as he dropped on the ground and began to nurse his lame ankle once more. “Ugh! but that snake was enough to give one the nightmare!�
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“Don’t say a word,” groaned Aleck, who had actually turned pale. “I vought shuah I was a goner, I did fo’ a fac’! I don’t want to meet no mo’ snakes!”
The two boys reloaded their pistols with all rapidity, and this was scarcely accomplished when they heard Cujo calling to them. Soon the native put in an appearance. When told of what had happened he would not believe the tale until he had gone back to look at the dead snake.
“You werry lucky,” he said. “Him big wonder um snake didn’t kill all of yo’!”
Cujo had made an important discovery. He had located Captain Villaire’s party at the old fort, and said that several French brigands were on guard, by the trail leading from the swamp and at the cliff overlooking the river.
“I see white boy dare too,” he added. “Same boy wot yo’ give money to in Boma.”
“Dan Baxter!” ejaculated Sam. “Can it be possible that he is mixed up in this affair?”
“I can’t understand it at all,” returned Tom. “But the question is, now we have tracked the rascals, what is to be done next?”
After a long talk it was resolved to get as close to the old fort as possible. Cujo said they need not hurry, for it would be best to wait until nightfall before making any demonstration against their enemies. The African was very angry to think that the other natives had deserted the party, but this anger availed them nothing.
Four o’clock in the afternoon found them on the edge of the swamp and not far from the bank of the Congo. Beyond was the cliff, overgrown in every part with rank vegetation, and the ever-present vines, which hung down like so many ropes of green.
“If we want to get up the wall we won’t want any scaling ladders,” remarked Tom grimly. “Oh, if only we knew that Dick and Uncle Randolph were safe!”
“I’m going to find out pretty soon,” replied Sam. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think they are being held for ransom.”
“I was thinking of that, too. But I didn’t dream of such a thing being done down here although, I know it is done further north in Africa among the Moors and Algerians.”
Cujo now went off on another scout and did not return until the sun was setting. Again he was full of smiles.
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