CHAPTER XXII.—THE NIGHT-RIDERS.
While the two boys laid their plans by the embers of the camp-fire, Peck and his companion, the watchers, moved stealthily over in their direction and came within sound of their voices.
“Now, Uncle Zeke,” they heard Alex say, “if you can get us through the cut-off and bring us out to where the pirates have their ‘nest’, as you call it, we’ll give you ten dollars, and if we succeed in getting the Rambler away from them, we’ll take you down the river with us and get you a good job up north.”
“Ah’d hab to work up norf!” Uncle Zeke answered with a grin.
“You certainly would,” Clay laughed.
“Ah nebber did cotton to no work!” the negro replied.
“Well, then,” Alex promised, “if we get the boat, we’ll give you twenty-five dollars. Now, you’ll do your best to get us through, won’t you? We’ve just got to get that craft and slide out of this country.”
“That’s about what I thought!” Peck whispered to his companion. “All the boys want is to get their boat back and get out of the country.”
“What was it that kid said about pirates?” asked the other.
“Perhaps the pirates stole their boat,” suggested Peck.
“If we keep still, we’ll soon find out, probably.”
“Before we leave this country,” Clay said in a moment, “we ought to get even with those pirates in some way. They tried to shut us into the lagoon so they could get possession of the boat, and we got away from them. Now they’ve actually captured the Rambler, and may do a lot of harm to the motors before we can get it back. I don’t believe they know how to run a boat like the Rambler!”
“There!” Peck exclaimed, nudging his companion in the side. “Them pesky pirates are to blame for the boys being here. Now if these boys have seen anything that might make us trouble, these river robbers are to blame for it. I wish we hadn’t sent the two kids we found here up to the house. They are having troubles enough of their own.”
“Well,” Peck’s companion observed, “I don’t see any necessity for us to remain here after this. We’ve got to see a lot of the boys to-day, after we find out exactly what is to be done to-night, and so we may as well go on about our business.”
Peck hesitated for a long time before he replied.
“The boys,” he said then, “seem to be bribing the old nigger to show them the way through the cut-off.”
“That’s the way I get it.”
“And the old coon’s been telling them that the pirates have a rendezvous somewhere near the end of the cut-off. Is that the way you understand it?”
“That’s what the boy said,” was the answer. “Anyway, they’re expecting the nigger to take them to the pirates’ rendezvous and help them get their boat back.”
“Then,” Peck continued, “if you’re satisfied that it’s the right thing to do, I’ll go back to the house, turn the other boys loose, and tell them where they can find their friends.”
“That’ll be all right so far as I’m concerned.”
Captain Joe ran inquisitively toward the thicket as the men moved away, but made no demonstration, as the intruders were not approaching the fire.
“Now,” Alex said, “if we can persuade Uncle Zeke to bring in a large, long piece of firewood, or a stone from the river, or some edible thing of that sort. I’ll have breakfast. If you can’t find anything of that sort that I can digest, Uncle Zeke,” he went on whimsically, “pass me one of the oars and I’ll take a light lunch off that.”
“Why,” Clay laughed, “what’s the matter with Uncle Zeke going out and getting a fish?”
“That may be all right,” Alex replied. “But look here, Uncle Zeke,” he went on, “if you get hold of a fish of the forty-mule-power variety, don’t you ever try to pull him in! He’ll drag you down the river, and there’s a party of thieves in a houseboat down there who are waiting for some nice fat darkey to cook for their dinner.”
“Ah nebber did cotton to no houseboat trash!” the negro exclaimed.
“Can you catch a fish for this starving boy?” demanded Clay.
“Ah suah can!” answered Uncle Zeke. “Dar’s plenty ob fish in de ribber, but Ah hain’t got no hook an’ line.”
“Can you find bait?” asked Alex.
“Worms and grubs!” replied the darker pointing to the bank of the river.
“Well,” Clay informed him, “there are hooks and lines under the prow of the rowboat. You’ll find all kinds of fishing outfit there, including a piece of a jointed bamboo rod. If I wasn’t so nearly dead for want of sleep, I’d go and catch a fish myself!”
“That’s the ticket!” cried Alex. “You crawl under there and go to sleep, and when Uncle Zeke and I come back from our fishing trip, you’ll be somewhere up in the blue sky looking for Case and Jule.”
“Mighty funny thing where those boys went to!” Clay suggested. “Do the pirates ever come over into this cove, Uncle Zeke?” he added.
The negro, being somewhat puzzled at the abrupt question, Clay explained to him that two of their chums had disappeared in a mysterious manner. After listening to the explanation, the old negro made a circuit of the cove, examining the turf closely as he passed along.
When he returned to the embers of the fire, what was left of his gray hair was standing almost on end notwithstanding its natural kinkiness. The terror he had felt at the sight of the bear was nothing to this.
“What is it, Uncle Zeke?” Alex asked.
“Night-riders!” replied the old darkey.
“You’ll have to get a new dream book, Uncle Zeke!” Alex laughed. “Ten or fifteen years ago there were night-riders, and all that sort of thing in Kentucky, but nothing of that kind goes now.”
“Ah nebber did cotton to no night-riders!” exclaimed the negro.
“What makes you think night-riders have been here?” asked Clay.
“’Cause,” answered the negro, “dey’re gettin’ mighty promiscuous lately. Ah’m feared ob dem night-riders.”
“What did you see over there?” demanded Clay,
“Hoss tracks!” answered the negro.
The two boys looked at each other with understanding in their eyes.
“Do you remember the trampling we heard at the bar where the barges were stranded?” asked Alex.
“Yes,” replied Clay, “and I remember, too, the horses tied in the thicket near the house where I had breakfast.”
“Do you think the night-riders carried the boys away?” asked Alex.
“Ah sure do!” replied Uncle Zeke. “Mighty ’spicious people, dem night-riders! Ah nebber did cotton to ’em.”
“Well,” Alex suggested in a moment, “you go see if you can get a fish. I’ll stay here with Clay and watch for night-riders. If they show up while you’re gone. I’ll pick out the fattest one and eat him for breakfast. I’m hungry enough to eat a night-rider, horse and all!”
Uncle Zeke disappeared in the direction of the boat with a grin on his black face, and in a few moments Alex had the satisfaction of seeing him haul a couple of good-sized perch from the river. The boy instantly darted into the thicket after dry wood, and before many minutes the old darkey was on shore with his catch.
“Now,” Alex asked, “how am I ever going to get them cooked?”
“Why,” Clay answered, “there’s a small frying-pan in the bow locker of the boat. Don’t you remember how we always kept a few provisions and cooking utensils in there in case of accident?”
“What kind of provisions?” shouted Alex, dancing about.
“Why, canned beans, and tomatoes, and chicken!” answered Clay.
“Je—rusalem, my happy home!” shouted Alex. “Do you mean to tell me that all that good eating has been in the boat all this time while my stomach has been growing to my back bone?”
He dashed off to the boat as he spoke, and soon returned with a beaming face, his arms piled high with tinned goods. He soon had some of the cans opened and before many minutes, the perch were sizzling in the frying-pan.
“Ah sure should know ’bout that chicken!” grinned Uncle Zeke as he watched the boys open a tin can.
Clay sat back and laughed heartily at the puzzled expression on the negro’s face.
“If you’d only known about that chicken being there, you’d have found a place for it long before this, wouldn’t you. Uncle Zeke?” he asked.
“Ah sure would!” replied the old darkey. “Ah sure done gettin’ hungry right now! Yaller-legged chicken! Huh!”
“All right!” Clay suggested. “As soon as Alex gets the fish ready, we’ll all have breakfast. I’ve had one good feed this morning, but I can stand another.”
“Tell you what,” the old darkey continued with his eyes fixed ravenously on the frying fish. “Ah don’t go through no cut-off wid de sun up! Dat country’s full of pesky pirates.”
“Mother of Moses!” cried Alex. “Have we got to wait here until night? If we have, I’ll spend the time eating.”
“That might not be a bad idea!” Clay exclaimed. “Case and Jule may come back before long. If they really have been captured by the night-riders, they won’t be held very long.”
“We don’t know that,” Alex insisted. “The man we talked with up at the barges was probably a night-rider, and he talked fair enough, but if they suspect the boys of being spies, it will be a long time before they gain their liberty.”
“Anyway,” Clay suggested, “if we have to remain here until twilight, we can look about on the chance of finding the kids.”
“Ah’m advisin’ you boys not to do no lookin’ about in dis here country!” Uncle Zeke exclaimed. “Mighty ’spicious people, dem night-riders!”
“That’s exactly the idea, Alex!” Clay expressed himself. “The night-riders probably suspect that we are here as spies and that’s why they have taken the boys away. Now there’ll probably be something doing here before long, for the riders seem to be out in force.
“After they have accomplished the purpose of their gathering, they’ll probably disband, and there’ll be no more trouble with them until they get ready to burn down another tobacco warehouse, or beat up some defenseless grower, whose only crime is to want to get rid of his product.”
While these events had been taking place at the landing, Case and Jule, very much to their surprise, had been released from surveillance at the farm house and advised to make their way back to the river.
“My old man declares there’s no harm in you-ins,” Mrs. Peck said, as she patted the boys on the shoulder in a motherly way and wished them good luck. “You’ll probably find your friends at the cove,” she said, “for our folks just returned from there, and the boys were waiting for you to show up. Only don’t say a word about having been brought here at all. It will be better for you not to.”
The boys agreed to this, and shot away at a double-quick pace toward the cove, anxious to meet their chums, and doubly anxious to be on the deck of the good old Rambler again. They were hardly outside the clearing in the middle of which the old farm house stood when a party of a dozen men came dashing across the weed-grown field and approached the old woman now standing in the doorway.
“Where are those boys?” the man who seemed to be the leader of the party demanded. “Bring them out here, quick!”
As he spoke, several members of the party flourished long beechen whips which had evidently been cut from the forest very recently.
“What do you-uns want of the boys?” asked the old lady mildly. “We’ll explain that to them!” answered the leader, his face flushing with anger. “We don’t have to be cross-examined by you.”
“I sho’ hope those boys hain’t done no mischief,” the woman replied.
“They’re spies!” the leader shouted. “We’ve just found out that they’re spies! The word came down the river! Where are they?”
“I’m sure sorry,” Mrs. Peck answered, “but Ball done brought me word from my old man to turn the lads loose.”
“Which way did they go?” demanded the leader. Mrs. Peck hesitated. She knew what her fate would be should she attempt to deceive these lawless night-riders, and should be detected. Her idea was to protect the boys as far as lay in her power, yet she did not want to render herself and family liable to the wrath of the riders.
“Sho’, now,” she said after a moment’s silence, “them boys ducked out of the clearing somewhere west, and I was that stupid that I didn’t see whether they kept straight on west or not.”
“Oh, what’s the use of talking with a woman?” demanded one of the riders. “The boys undoubtedly returned to the river. We’ll find them there if we make haste.”
“And when we do find them,” the leader declared spitefully, “we’ll give them a bit of instruction according to Doctor Birch. We have desperate work on hand for the next week, and we can’t afford to have our plans frustrated by a few school-boys!”
The party dashed away at a gallop. The old lady saw them approach the forest with a sinking heart.
Before they reached the tumbled-down fence, however, she saw them wheel suddenly about and point with their whips to the south, where a mass of flame and smoke was roaring skyward.