“We cannot do anything now but hope, anyway,” Mr. Graham remarked. “There is no use in worrying about it. But if you fellows are not going back to sleep right away I wish you would explain to me the exact location of that cabin and all its surroundings so that I will be familiar with the ground when we get there. Are you sure that you will be able to find it again?”
“I don’t think there will be any trouble about that,” Scott answered confidently. “We ran a compass course straight north from it to where we left the boat and while it was not a very accurate course it ought to be straight enough to find a house. I think that I can draw you a pretty good sketch of the whole layout.”
So Scott, with occasional suggestions from Murphy, sketched the cabin and described it as accurately as he could. With this sketch as a basis Mr. Graham planned his campaign for the next day. He pored over it for several hours and it was not till some time after they had finished their supper that he seemed satisfied that it was complete in every detail. He then folded the sketch up thoughtfully and arose with a yawn.
“We shall have to catch that train at four in the morning,” he said, “and if you fellows have any more sleep to make up you better be about it. I am going to bed now.”
“So am I,” said Murphy. “I am not square with the world yet by about ten hours, but if we are not going till morning I am going home to let my wife know that I am still alive. I’ll meet you at the train. Anything in particular you want me to bring along?”
“No, nothing except a shooting iron of some kind. You may have some use for that before we get those other rascals in the jug.”
“There’s where I’ll miss my old Luger,” Murphy said sadly. “I wish I had it out of the bottom of that quicksand, but I guess I can manage. I feel as though I could hit one of those scoundrels with almost anything after the way they were longing for a shot at me.”
With that Murphy started for home and Mr. Graham went in to bed. Scott sat on the porch for a little while alone and thought over the events which had crowded themselves so rapidly into the past few days. It was only a little over a week since he had been sitting on that same porch wondering how he would ever accomplish what seemed to him then the almost impossible task which had been assigned him. Now almost as if by magic it had come suddenly to a successful conclusion. It would be an eminently successful conclusion if they could only capture the rest of the gang in the morning, but even if they did not get them they had discovered their secret, broken up their operations and jailed the ringleader. It could not exactly be called a failure. It had been a most interesting experience and promised to be even more so in the morning, but he hoped it would not lead him into any more assignments for detective work. He had made good twice largely through what he considered remarkably good luck, but he was afraid that he might fall down on the next one.
He did not feel at all nervous at the prospect of going under fire the next day, but he was worried for fear Roberts and his gang would not be in their hiding place. He felt that he would always reproach himself with his lack of foresight in taking that boat and possibly scaring them away. Under the circumstances there was not very much choice left to them, but he forgot that now and thought only of the possible results.
“Oh, well,” he exclaimed at last, “we shall know pretty quick in the morning and there is no use in worrying about it now,” and he followed Mr. Graham to bed. That gentleman evidently was not losing any sleep over the possibilities of the next day’s work. He was sound asleep and snoring like a trooper. Scott soon joined in the chorus and any one passing by the cabin would have found it hard to believe that the two occupants knew they had to dislodge a band of desperate men from a fortified cabin in the morning.