Easy enough to figure it out after this manner, but there must be considerable chance that matters would not work so smoothly. For one thing it must be considered that Oswald Kearns was no weakling, but a more or less athletic figure, accustomed to feats of strength and agility beyond the measure of an ordinary man. Then, too, he was known to be irrational, even to the length of being considered dangerous when thoroughly aroused and it went without saying that he must always be well armed for in his reckless way of living he must many times be in close touch with desperate characters, some of whom might conceive it worth while to plot against his liberty, with a heavy ransom in their mind’s eye.
It was quite too late for either of them to think of slipping off, since the light from the interior of the shack poured through the open door and dissipated the friendly darkness in that especial vicinity.
Consequently all they could do was to continue to crouch there in the shadow of the well curbing, and await whatever was scheduled to come to pass.
If Perk had been so eagerly praying for something to breeze along that would give him the thrill he loved so well, his wish seemed well on the road of being realized since everything was set for a dramatic discovery with its attendant speedy action.
It was apparent that after all the man could not have glimpsed their vanishing faces as they ducked so swiftly, for he continued to advance in the direction of the well and Perk could hear him softly singing, just as though he might be a “musical cuss,” as Perk told himself with one of his customary chuckles since his first stab of alarm had passed off under the realization that they had another chance.
Jack, too, was telling himself what a peculiar state of affairs had come upon the stage–here, with an ambush lying in wait before him, this man could step blithely along, swinging his aluminum bucket and softly warbling one of the most recent hits from a comic opera–Jack had himself heard the song on the boards of a great metropolitan theatre in New York–had even caught himself whistling the catchy air more than a few times since.
The man who seemed to be so well pleased with his fortunes while basking in the favor of the wealthy chief of smugglers had a little surprise waiting for him at the end of his rainbow–if those lurking shadowy figures knew their business and managed it as they should, he would be singing quite a different air before a great while, perhaps interlarding his humming with a choice variety of expletives concerning the cruelty of Fate.
A few more steps and he would have reached the well–then what must take place? Perk was asking himself as he crouched there, his muscles set and his breath coming in little noiseless gasps–he resembled nothing so much as a cat ready poised to make a deadly leap upon a fat robin struggling with a worm that it had pulled halfway out of its hole.
There was not one chance in twenty that the man could actually reach the well, drop the bucket down, switch it around in order to induce water to enter and then make use of the windlass so as to draw it to the top, without discovering the presence of those two huddled forms; so Perk did not deceive himself in the least with any extravagant hopes of the affair passing off smoothly and their plans being uninterrupted.
Now the man had set his pail down and was giving the well bucket a switch as though intending to dislodge any stale water it might contain. From this little incident Jack understood that undoubtedly the man must himself have left the water they had used up in the bucket when last at the well and subconsciously remembered the fact.