XXXIII
“Lie down in the canoe,” I whispered to Betty. “They must have missed us; I’m going to take a little look.”
When she had obeyed, and could not see what I did, I slipped the safety catch off my pistol and crept forward to the mouth of the cave.
I was right; some one was walking near the cave. After a few seconds I could make out the heavy footsteps of two men. They were walking carelessly, brush crackling beneath their feet, and they were coming down-hill. Suddenly from some distance off came the sound of a sharp whistle twice repeated. The footsteps stopped.
“There,” said a voice. “Wha’d’ I tell you? The cap’s given up, too, and it’s a case of get back to the boat for us.”
“I tell you,” responded a second voice, “I don’t believe it was the guys we’re after at all. They’re old-timers and wise guys. It don’t seem nach’rel they’d go shooting this close to the water, where they knew we’d be sure to hear it. That was a revolver, too.”
“Who the —— else would it be, then?” demanded the first man. “There ain’t nobody else to do any revolver shooting round here, is they? Sure it was the guys we’re after. Nobody else. They’re hard up fer grub, and had to shoot something wherever they could get it—nobody else ’round here.”
“There’s that —— Pitt, an’ the skirt the cap’s gone crazy about, ain’t there? They’re loose somewhere in the valley, too, ain’t they?”
“Sure. They got no revolver, though. He ain’t a shootin’ man, either. Naw; it was those miner guys who fired that shot, all right; an’ they’re old-timers an’ beat it like —— right away an’ kept traveling, so we didn’t find them or their trail. They might be layin’ round here some place at that.”
“Well, come on. Let’s get down.”
Their footsteps sounded again on the ground. I placed my eyes to an interstice in the brush and peered out. Perhaps fifty feet north of the cave two of Brack’s men were slouching down-hill toward the boat, their rifles hanging carelessly over their shoulders like men who are returning from an unsuccessful hunt.
Farther down the hill and a good distance to the north were two other men, and as I watched Brack broke out of the brush along the bay and ran swiftly down the beach to where his boat lay tied. Here he dropped promptly out of sight behind the boulder where he and his men had sought shelter when they landed, and there, safely hidden, he awaited the return of his men.
His tactics puzzled me at first. Why did he run so swiftly across the open space of the beach? Why hide himself behind the boulder? It was not like Brack to run or hide. Then, considering the speech I had just heard, I understood. It was Slade and Harris that Brack and his men had come hunting, summoned by my pistol-shot, and the captain, knowing their deadly skill with the rifle, was not wishful to expose himself any more than was necessary.
“Betty,” I said swiftly, as the men came out upon the beach and tumbled into the boat, “they’re going away. It wasn’t us they were after. They’ve no idea we’re here. They’re rowing away now, and I’m going to try and see if I can’t follow them and find where they’re staying.”
They were shoving the boat out now, and as soon as they had turned its bow toward the head of the fiord, I leaped from the cave and ran as swiftly as I could northward, keeping out of sight of the water. When I knew that I was well ahead of the boat I curved toward the fiord, and the moment the water came in view I lay flat down in the brush and waited. If the boat did not appear I would at least know that Brack’s rendezvous was somewhere between the cave and the point where I was lying.
I had but a minute or two to wait, however, when the boat came rushing along and continued farther north. Once more I waited until it was out of sight, then again curving my path out of sight of the water, I once more ran desperately to get in the lead.
My rush this time led me to where I found further progress barred by the river at the head of the fiord. At the junction of the two waters I hid myself and waited. When the boat came in view I drew back, for I was perilously near the river and I judged that having come this far Brack was bound up the river toward the cabins. I was mistaken. The boat turned eastward, before reaching the river-mouth. It went straight toward an opening on the other side of the fiord which I had not previously noticed. This opening was to some degree hidden by an out-jutting bluff. Without slacking speed the boat swung around the bluff and disappeared into a part of the fiord whose existence I had not suspected.
Then I stood up and cursed aloud. And at that a voice cried out from a clump of willows near by:
“Oh ——! Is that really you, Brains? Oh, ——! Mebbe I ain’t glad to see you!”
Pierce’s expression as he came stumbling out of the willows was a study. The last two days had wrinkled and drawn his honest face into a mask of despair, and now, suddenly convulsed with relief and joy, his eyes honestly shed tears while his lips grinned happily.
“Put ’er there, Brains! Mitt me, mitt me!” he stammered, grasping my hand. “Gee! I didn’t know you with all that fuzz on your face. Well, you’re all right, and—and there ain’t anything happened to Her, has they?”
“No, Freddy,” I managed to say at last. “Miss Baldwin is all right. She’s back in the cave that I told you about.”
“Wow!” He fairly wilted with relief. “Say, if anything had happened to her I’d hike straight back to the yacht and blow a hole through Brack’s head the second I saw him.”
“The yacht?” I cried. “Do you mean to say the yacht is near at hand?”
“Right up at the end of the bay there,” was his casual reply. “Riordan ran ’er up right after you’d left that afternoon with the boss. Say, how long ago is that, Brains?”
“Two days ago, isn’t it?”
“Yah! You ain’t sure yourself, are you? It’s been long for you, too, eh? Seems about a month to me. An’ you been living in the cave! Say! Look at this.” He patted the sweater which he was wearing and which was swollen far out in front.
“Grub,” he said. “Come on; let’s beat it before anybody comes nosing around.”
“Pierce!” I said, “do you mean to say that you’ve got food—real, civilized food there?”
“Sure. I was on my way to the cave to feed you. Wait a second while I get my rifle.”
He dove back into the willows and reappeared bearing the rifle which I had taken from Barry.
“Come on. Lead the way. Tell you all about it later. Got to beat it now. I put a bump on Garvin’s bean to get away and they may be after me any minute. Go ahead, fast’s you can; I’ll keep up.”
I waited to ask no more questions but plunged into the forest at a run with Pierce following at my heels. There was no need for caution now and we went straight to the cave, to find Betty ruefully picking the bird I had shot. At the sight of Pierce she stopped and stared, while I took the bird from her hand.
“No need for this now,” I laughed. “Here’s Freddy, and he’s brought us some real civilized food.”
“Best I could do,” said Pierce, and opening his belt there clattered to the floor of the cave a quantity of the Wanderer’s choicest viands that made me gasp. “Wilson’s sweater,” explained Pierce, looking at the pile. “Big enough for two of me. Held quite a lot, didn’t it?”
“Food!” Betty clasped her hands and gazed in amazement at the collection.
There was potted turkey, paté-de-foie-gras, asparagus tips, veal-loaf, all in glass. There were packages of tea biscuit. There was a bundle which contained sandwiches.
“Food! Oh, you blessed, perambulating pantry! You—you angel!” she cried, and hugged Pierce in a way that left him red and stammering.
“Gee! Beg pardon—I mean, you’re all right, ain’t you, Miss Baldwin? Gee—I mean, that’s fine!”
“Freddy,” said I with genuine feeling, “as you say, ‘mitt me,’ once more. ‘Put ’er there.’ You’re a prince. You’re more than a prince; you’re a clever man.”
“Aw, c’m on now, Brains; don’t go kidding me,” he protested.
“Kidding you!” cried Betty, biting into a generous sandwich. “If you knew how we felt toward you at this moment—if you knew how like an angel you appear to us! Oh, but real food does taste good!”
“I ought to have got here before this,” said Pierce, as Betty and I devoted ourselves to nourishment, “but first Riordan had me locked in the engine-room, and then Brack had me there, and this was the first chance for a getaway I had.”
“Begin at the beginning,” I commanded, opening the asparagus. “We don’t know a thing except that when we came back the other night the yacht was gone.”
“And roll yourself a cigaret, do,” supplemented Betty.
“Aw—aw, I guess I can get along without smoking,” said Pierce lamely.
“Roll a cigaret,” repeated Betty. “Then tell us—about everything. And how is George—Mr. Chanler?”