ANOTHER SCHEME
Bill was not cut out for a nurse. His sympathies were large, but his fingers, deft at managing fine mechanical apparatus, were all thumbs when it came to anything even remotely concerned with human anatomy. The girl had been hit in the shoulder, undoubtedly a mere flesh wound, and the bleeding must be stopped. Lucy was very pale, but there was never a tear, nor the least indication of her fainting. She merely held her arm down and watched, with most rueful countenance, the blood dripping from her finger tips upon the polished floor.
“I’ll get Gus,” said Bill, almost ready to weep at the sight the girl presented. She had torn her dress from her shoulder and a seared gash was disclosed which she could not well observe.
Gus pointed out the course to Bill, then went into the cabin. In a minute or less he had searched and obtained clean rags, torn strips from them, found a nearly exhausted bottle of vaseline, coated the rag with it and, with a deftness almost worthy of a surgeon, washed the wound with a quick sopping of gasoline. Then as more blood was flowing, he bound up the shoulder and arm so that the flow stopped and by its coagulation germs were excluded. Whereupon Lucy sought a couch where she lay, exhausted, and with a decided desire to cry, while Gus went back to the wheel.
“You shall hear from father and mother and all of us. They will be here early and father must see you.” This was the very earnest declaration of the elder Waring sister, a young woman of twenty-five or more, “I cannot alone express our thanks, our deep gratitude——”
“To use a rather slangy expression—please ‘forget it,’” said Bill, laughing.
Lucy, supported by another older sister, could only thank the boys with her pretty eyes. She did make so bold as to hold the hand of poor Gus until he turned a fiery red. Blushing herself, even through her pallor, she still persisted in trying to show her appreciation and admiration. Bill had to grab and pull his stammering chum away.
The run back in the Stella was made in rapid time to her owner’s slip. And there, the morning light just beginning to show in the eastern sky, the boys found an odd-looking fellow busily getting ready to cast off a fishing skiff. He was one Pepperman, commonly called “Swamp” for short. He was something of a crony of Dan’s and the boys had seen him before.
As they headed in they made out the identity of “Swamp.” Gus suddenly had one of his ideas. He conveyed it to Bill in few words:
“We’ll get ‘Swamp’ to go to those Malatestas and tell them he can steal them a boat. Then we’ll get Tony away if he’s still there. You talk to ‘Swamp.’”
“Hello, Mr. Pepperman! Going fishing?” began Bill, as they made fast and lowered sail. “Yes? Expect to catch much? No? Well, I know something that will bring you in two hours more money than in three weeks of the best fishing you ever had.”
“Swamp” wanted to know how such a thing could be done. Said Bill:
“Dead easy! You take a walk right away down through the pines toward the Point. Know how to whistle a tune? Sure; well then, come over all the tunes you know. Let on you’re hunting for special fish bait or something. Sheer off toward the big pine and keep through toward the ocean. You’ll meet somebody likely. Don’t get curious, but talk fishing and boats. Tell them you take folks fishing and that you have a dandy boat all ready—a fast one. They’ll probably want to see her. Tell them you keep her up here, but if they’ll hang off shore at the Point you’ll sail her around there. Then, when they leave for the Point and you’re sure of it, you come up the bay side road and tell us. We’ll be waiting. How much is there in it? Twenty-five dollars, Mr. Pepperman, if your errand turns out successfully. Is that enough?”
“I reckon hit air,” remarked the sententious “Swamp.” “When do I git the money?”
“Any time—to-day,” said Gus, and without another word the lanky fellow, laying aside his tackle and bait of crab meat, was off into the woods.
Hardly an hour passed before Gus remarked to tired and sleepy Bill: “Somebody’s coming. I’ll bet it’s ‘Swamp.’”
It was, and he reported the exact carrying out of the plan. Two men, young fellows, one very dark-skinned, the other light, and both carrying guns, had started to the Point to wait for him. The other man,—there had been three along the wood road—had headed up into the nearer woods along the ocean side.
“You go back and wait for Dan,” said Gus to Bill. “I’m going to make one more try for Tony.”