The boys assisted their father in removing the saddles and feeding the animals, and when this had been done, Jack conducted them into one of the cribs, and after closing and fastening the door, seated himself upon the corn and proceeded to make his sons acquainted with certain plans he had determined upon.
He did not know that some one besides Jake and Tom was listening to every word he said, but such was the fact. It was Sanders, who having overheard enough of Jack’s conversation with Mr. Mortimer to excite his curiosity, and seeing Bowles and his sons enter the crib and shut themselves in, made a circuit through the woods, and came up within hearing of their voices in time to learn as much of their scheme as he cared to know.
“I reckon Mr. Mortimer will get tired of waitin’ fur me,” said Jack, “‘cause he hain’t no ways likely to see me agin afore dark. I’ve got work fur ye to do, youngsters, an’ if ye do it as I tell ye to, there’s money to be made by it. Listen, now, with all the ears you’ve got. In the fust place, in order that ye may understand the hul matter, I must tell ye that this Mr. Mortimer is the same feller who brought Julian here years ago. He’s some kin to him—his pap, mebbe, fur all I know—but he don’t want to own him, ’cause the boy somehow stands atween him an’ a fortin’. He wants to put him whar he’ll never see him agin, an’ so me an’ him have give out that he is crazy, an’ that we’re goin’ to take him to Orleans an’ put him in a ’sylum. In course, he hain’t no more outen his head than I be, but that’s no business of mine. Mr. Mortimer’s goin’ to start down the river with him to-night, an’ I’m goin’ along to take care of him.”
Jack did not see fit to tell his boys that Mr. Mortimer had offered him money to push Julian overboard, and that he had promised to do it. That was a dangerous secret, and one that he did not care to trust to anybody’s keeping.
“I shall get $200 fur makin’ the trip,” continued Jack. “Now, I want to earn them thar two hundred, but I don’t want Julian to be tuk to New Orleans an’ shut up thar, ’cause if he is, we’ll lose jest $145 by it—the hundred he stole from ye last night, Jake, an’ the forty-five he made this mornin’ outen his mink skins. He’s hid the money, an’ I want to get a chance to make him tell whar it is; an’ this is the way I’m goin’ to work it. As soon as it comes dark, ye, Jake an’ Tom, must get into the dug-out an’ drop down the river in it, as easy as ye can, tie it to the starn of the flatboat, an’ then lay down on the bottom an’ keep still thar. Be sure an’ make it fast with a short rope, so as to keep outen the way of the sweeps. When ye’ve done that I will go up to the house, an’ me an’ Mr. Mortimer an’ Julian will go on board the flatboat, an’ she’ll put out into the river, draggin’ the dug-out arter her. When Mr. Mortimer an’ most of the crew have gone to bed, I’ll untie Julian an’ take him up fur a turn about the deck. I’ll give him all the chance he wants to get away, an’ he will be sartin to use it. He said that we shouldn’t never take him down the river; an’ bein’ perfectly at home in the water, he won’t mind jumpin’ overboard and swimmin’ ashore. As soon as I see him in the water I’ll whistle, an’ ye must cut loose from the flatboat an’ pick him up. Be as easy as ye can about it, an’ when ye onct get hold of him hang on, no matter what happens; tie him hard an’ fast, an’ bring him hum an’ put him in the smoke-house till I come. I’ll be along some time to-morrer, ’cause when Mr. Mortimer finds out that Julian is overboard he’ll think he’s drownded, an’ he’ll pay me off an’ discharge me. Arter I get hold of Julian, it won’t take me long to make him tell whar he’s hid them hundred an’ forty-five dollars. When I get that an’ the two hundred I’ll be rich.”
“But, pap, how much be me an’ Tom goin’ to git fur doin’ the job?” asked Jake.
“Ye’ll git enough to satisfy ye,” was the reply. “Jake shall have Julian’s rifle fur his share. It’s a good one, an’ didn’t cost a cent less’n $25. Tom shall have his blankets, which he can sell at The Corners if he don’t want to keep ’em, an’ the clothes Julian’s got on. Tom thinks a heap of good clothes, an’ that shows that he’s goin’ to be a gentleman when he’s growed up. An’ more’n that, if I find Julian here when I come hum, I’ll give each of ye $10; but if he hain’t here, ye shan’t have nothin’ but the dog-gondest wallopin’ ye ever heern tell on, an’ ye’ll get that as sartin as ye’re a foot high. It’ll be wusser’n all the rest I ever give ye biled down into one. Now, be ye sure that ye know jest what ye’ve got to do?”
Jake and Tom were not quite certain that they did, and so their father repeated his instructions, and kept on repeating them until the boys thoroughly understood them.
Every part of the work they were expected to perform, as well as the treatment Julian was to receive prior to Jack’s return, was discussed, and the latter being satisfied at last that there was no danger of failure, announced that it was his intention to pass the rest of the afternoon in sleep. He instructed Jake to return to the house and announce that his father had just set out for The Corners on horseback, and then concealed himself among the corn at the farther end of the crib, while his boys, after making sure that there was no one in sight, opened the door and went out. No sooner had they entered the cabin than Sanders left his position behind the crib, made another circuit through the woods back to the bank of the river, and once more began walking up and down, now and then shaking his head and chuckling to himself as if he were thinking about something that afforded him great satisfaction.