“Well, here we are,” replied Walter. “What have you got to tell us? Have you seen anything of Featherweight?”
“No—that is—yes; I have heard of him. I have a long story to tell you, and there are some things in it that will astonish you. I hope you don’t bear me any ill will for what happened yesterday, and for the other mean tricks I have done you?”
“No, we don’t,” replied Walter readily.
“Now I’ll just tell you what’s a fact,” chimed in Perk; “we’ve got nothing against you or any of your crowd; and if you will only be friendly with us, we’ll meet your advances half way.”
The boys turned their horses’ heads down the stream, and when they reached the ford Walter and Perk crossed over to Wilson’s side, and, to show that they meant all they had said, shook hands with him as heartily as though they had always been on the most friendly terms. Their manner put Wilson at his ease at once; and without any preliminary words he began and told the story of the adventures that had befallen him during the last twenty-four hours. To repeat what he said would be to write a good portion of “The Sportsman’s Club in the Saddle” over again. He did not know where Featherweight was, for he had not seen him; and neither could he tell what had happened to Chase, for during the short time that they were besieged in Coulte’s house, he had not been allowed an opportunity to talk to him; but he remembered the hint his companion had given him of Featherweight’s condition, and repeated his words to Walter and Perk.
“I have not the least idea where you ought to go to find Fred,” said Wilson, in conclusion; “but this much I do know—that he is in a terrible scrape, and that he is on board some vessel. Chase knows all about him, for he has seen him and talked with him. Now, my advice, if you will allow me to offer it, is this: assist me in rescuing Chase, and he will tell you where to find Fred Craven; and, more than that, he and I will stand by you through thick and thin, and do all we can to help you. What do you say?”
Walter and Perk did not say anything immediately, for they were so astonished at the story they had heard that it was a long time before they could speak. They could hardly believe it possible that all the events that Wilson had described had taken place in their immediate neighborhood, and that, too, without their knowledge; and they would have been still more amazed if they had known that only a part of the story had been told them. What would they have thought if they had known that Mr. Bell was the leader of the smugglers of whom Walter had read in the paper the day before; that his vessel was hidden in a little cove not more than two miles from the place where they were then standing; that Featherweight was stowed away in the hold, waiting to be carried to Cuba; and that when he arrived there he was to be shipped as a foremast hand on board a strange vessel and sent off to Mexico?
“Isn’t it the strangest thing in the world that Chase should have been mistaken for me?” cried Walter, as soon as he could speak. “Of course we’ll stand by him. How shall we go to work? Suggest something, one of you.”
“Now, just listen to me a minute and I’ll tell you what I would do,” exclaimed Perk. “Wilson, you said that Coulte is going to take Chase down the bayou in the pirogue, didn’t you? Well, let’s go home and get the Banner, and be ready to catch him when he comes out.”
“Perhaps he wouldn’t stop when we told him to,” said Wilson.