“What’s the matter with Don?” said he. He knew that the surest way to avoid suspicion was to appear to take an interest in the matter. Besides, he wanted to hear some of the particulars of the kidnapping, for he hadn’t thought to ask Barr to go into the details.
“We hope there is nothing the matter with him,” answered Egan, “but we are beginning to feel very anxious. He disappeared suddenly yesterday afternoon, and we haven’t been able to find the least trace of him.”
“Where did you see him last?” inquired Enoch, whose self-control was really wonderful. Don was gone—there was no doubt about that—and his friend Lester was the remote cause of any trouble he might have got into. What was to be done about it? That was the question that Enoch was trying to answer while he waited for Egan’s reply.
“We last saw him on Conesus Creek,” said Egan. “We started yesterday morning for Spesutia Island, intending to camp out for a few days. When we arrived nearly opposite the mouth of the creek, we discovered a flock of swans in the bay above, and landed to have a shot at them; and that was the last we saw of Don Gordon. There was no possible chance for him to get drowned, even if he were not the expert swimmer he is, and if he managed to lose himself, he can use his tongue in recovering his bearings; so we confidently expect that he will turn up all right during the course of the day, but it would relieve our suspense if we could gain some clue to his whereabouts. May we depend upon you to lend him a hand if you happen to strike him anywhere?”
“Indeed you may,” replied Enoch; and he meant every word of it. He began to see what a despicable fellow he was. We can’t tell how his eyes came to be opened just at that minute, but we know that such things do happen sometimes, and very suddenly, too. What had Don and his friends done to him that he should hate them so cordially? He couldn’t point to a single thing.
“We thank you for that assurance,” said Egan, as the Sallie came about and started back up the bay. “If Don should unfortunately be in trouble, I don’t know of any one I would rather have find him than you, for I have seen your pluck tested. Good-bye, and may you have better luck than we have had so far.”
For once, Enoch saluted, and Egan and his companions were prompt to return it. As the former walked back to the cock-pit, in which Lester and Jones were sitting, he pulled off his hat and beat his own head with his fist.
“Take that for your foolishness,” said he, addressing himself in savage tones, “and learn to have more sense in future.”
“What in the world is the matter?” exclaimed Jones, who wondered if his friend had suddenly gone crazy.
“Say, Lester,” began Enoch, without stopping to reply to the question, “you heard what Egan said to me, of course? Then I hope you fully realize what a muss you have got into. I tell you plainly that Barr is a bad man. I don’t for a moment believe that he thought you were in earnest in what you said about Don, while we were at his cabin. My idea is that those ducks in Conesus Creek were the ones that Pete was to watch. Egan and his party came up and frightened them away, and Barr, accidentally stumbling upon Don, who had got bewildered in the marshes, made a prisoner of him out of a desire for revenge. Then he happened to think of what you said about that money, and so he came here and demanded it.”