“Well, I’ve been looking after my end, but blast it all, how can I keep the gang—ten new ones, under cover? The islands are half of them under water. Know what that means?”
“Sure, they won’t be bothering you,” the air-man answered promptly.
“That’s where you ain’t got a grain of sense. There’s probably a hundred people got their homes washed from under them. Everybody will be making room for them—and there isn’t a house in Isle La Motte will take care of so many. The Fenton’s will offer it—if they haven’t already fixed to fill it up,” Hezzy growled furiously.
“Whew, that’s so, but they ain’t likely to bring ’em across tonight, that’s sure. They can’t use the bridges even to walk on, and no North Hero man will bring a boat across until the lake isn’t so rough, that’s a cinch. You sit tight and keep a watch so you can slip ’em out if anyone shows up. This’ll be a grand place to stay tonight, and in the morning some of the planes will be back, then we can make a get-away, part of us, before daylight. What do you want to do over here?”
“See that the water pans are filled,” Hezzy replied sullenly.
“All right, go to it, I’ll cross to the house and catch up with the other fellows. Don’t hang around too long—”
“I gotta see they’re all right for the night or they’ll be dying on me,” Hezzy insisted. The pair separated, and Jim watched the strange man strike off through the dusk, while the poultry man made his way further along the turkey pen.
“Now,” whispered Jim. He jumped to his feet as nimbly and quietly as a cat, and tip-toed after the air-man. Half a dozen plans bobbed into the boy’s mind, but none seemed feasible. If he could only capture the pair while they were separated he might accomplish something, but how, was the question. He hesitated a moment as he thought of going back and fastening Hezzy in the temporary turkey house, but that didn’t seem good because he was sure the man could break his way out. By that time the stranger was almost across the clearing, and then the boy made a decision. Swiftly he ran, being careful to make no noise, and as he drew closer the lariats in his hand were being looped into shape. It was only the work of a moment to coil one, then taking a quick jump forward, the boy cast the loop. It swished low along the ground straight to its goal, rose over the fellow’s foot as he made a step, then jumping behind a small tree, the boy jerked it taut and the chap went down on his face with a hard thump.
“Hope he landed on a rock,” Jim muttered as he hauled it expertly.
It was evident that the fellow had knocked the wind out of himself in his fall, for he did not struggle, and in a second Jim was standing over him, trussing him tightly like a chicken.