Part 13

The caution with which they moved puzzled me. They crouched and ran from tree to tree, keeping in cover as much as possible, peering around carefully, their rifles always ready. Brack brought up the rear. The other men appeared almost frightened and it seemed that only his presence drove them forward.

“They’re searching the hill, but they’re not coming in this direction,” I whispered as I drew back to Betty. “Apparently they don’t know the exact location of this cave.”

“Do you think they will find it?”

“How can I tell? It’s wonderfully hidden.”

“If they do find it, what will you do?”

I did not reply. I did not know what I would do. But one thing I did know: Brack would not lead us away as his prisoners.

“Gardy,” she whispered, “if they are going to find us tell me, because there’s something I’ve got to tell you if—if—anything happens.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” I whispered assuringly. “Be easy on that. Nothing will happen to you.”

“Even if they do find us?”

“Even if they do find us. Hush now. We’d better not even whisper.”

We sat waiting in silence, our eyes upon the brush-mask across the cavern’s mouth. We were cornered. There was nothing to do but sit and wait for what fate might allot us. Each second I expected to see a face peering through the brush, and to hear the shout that would announce our discovery. But the seconds, infinitely long and throbbing, passed and became minutes, and still we had no sign of Brack and his men.

It was at least half an hour after the men had started up the hill that a spruce grouse, flushed from the ground, flashed across the opening, so close that its wings touched the brush. By the rising flight of the bird I knew that it had been flushed but a few yards away, and, I judged, by some one who was coming toward the cave. They would be here soon now.

XXXIII

“Lie down in the canoe,” I whispered to Betty. “They must have missed us; I’m going to take a little look.”

When she had obeyed, and could not see what I did, I slipped the safety catch off my pistol and crept forward to the mouth of the cave.

I was right; some one was walking near the cave. After a few seconds I could make out the heavy footsteps of two men. They were walking carelessly, brush crackling beneath their feet, and they were coming down-hill. Suddenly from some distance off came the sound of a sharp whistle twice repeated. The footsteps stopped.

“There,” said a voice. “Wha’d’ I tell you? The cap’s given up, too, and it’s a case of get back to the boat for us.”

“I tell you,” responded a second voice, “I don’t believe it was the guys we’re after at all. They’re old-timers and wise guys. It don’t seem nach’rel they’d go shooting this close to the water, where they knew we’d be sure to hear it. That was a revolver, too.”

“Who the —— else would it be, then?” demanded the first man. “There ain’t nobody else to do any revolver shooting round here, is they? Sure it was the guys we’re after. Nobody else. They’re hard up fer grub, and had to shoot something wherever they could get it—nobody else ’round here.”

“There’s that —— Pitt, an’ the skirt the cap’s gone crazy about, ain’t there? They’re loose somewhere in the valley, too, ain’t they?”

“Sure. They got no revolver, though. He ain’t a shootin’ man, either. Naw; it was those miner guys who fired that shot, all right; an’ they’re old-timers an’ beat it like —— right away an’ kept traveling, so we didn’t find them or their trail. They might be layin’ round here some place at that.”

“Well, come on. Let’s get down.”

Their footsteps sounded again on the ground. I placed my eyes to an interstice in the brush and peered out. Perhaps fifty feet north of the cave two of Brack’s men were slouching down-hill toward the boat, their rifles hanging carelessly over their shoulders like men who are returning from an unsuccessful hunt.

Farther down the hill and a good distance to the north were two other men, and as I watched Brack broke out of the brush along the bay and ran swiftly down the beach to where his boat lay tied. Here he dropped promptly out of sight behind the boulder where he and his men had sought shelter when they landed, and there, safely hidden, he awaited the return of his men.

His tactics puzzled me at first. Why did he run so swiftly across the open space of the beach? Why hide himself behind the boulder? It was not like Brack to run or hide. Then, considering the speech I had just heard, I understood. It was Slade and Harris that Brack and his men had come hunting, summoned by my pistol-shot, and the captain, knowing their deadly skill with the rifle, was not wishful to expose himself any more than was necessary.

“Betty,” I said swiftly, as the men came out upon the beach and tumbled into the boat, “they’re going away. It wasn’t us they were after. They’ve no idea we’re here. They’re rowing away now, and I’m going to try and see if I can’t follow them and find where they’re staying.”

They were shoving the boat out now, and as soon as they had turned its bow toward the head of the fiord, I leaped from the cave and ran as swiftly as I could northward, keeping out of sight of the water. When I knew that I was well ahead of the boat I curved toward the fiord, and the moment the water came in view I lay flat down in the brush and waited. If the boat did not appear I would at least know that Brack’s rendezvous was somewhere between the cave and the point where I was lying.

I had but a minute or two to wait, however, when the boat came rushing along and continued farther north. Once more I waited until it was out of sight, then again curving my path out of sight of the water, I once more ran desperately to get in the lead.

My rush this time led me to where I found further progress barred by the river at the head of the fiord. At the junction of the two waters I hid myself and waited. When the boat came in view I drew back, for I was perilously near the river and I judged that having come this far Brack was bound up the river toward the cabins. I was mistaken. The boat turned eastward, before reaching the river-mouth. It went straight toward an opening on the other side of the fiord which I had not previously noticed. This opening was to some degree hidden by an out-jutting bluff. Without slacking speed the boat swung around the bluff and disappeared into a part of the fiord whose existence I had not suspected.

Then I stood up and cursed aloud. And at that a voice cried out from a clump of willows near by:

“Oh ——! Is that really you, Brains? Oh, ——! Mebbe I ain’t glad to see you!”

Pierce’s expression as he came stumbling out of the willows was a study. The last two days had wrinkled and drawn his honest face into a mask of despair, and now, suddenly convulsed with relief and joy, his eyes honestly shed tears while his lips grinned happily.

“Put ’er there, Brains! Mitt me, mitt me!” he stammered, grasping my hand. “Gee! I didn’t know you with all that fuzz on your face. Well, you’re all right, and—and there ain’t anything happened to Her, has they?”

“No, Freddy,” I managed to say at last. “Miss Baldwin is all right. She’s back in the cave that I told you about.”

“Wow!” He fairly wilted with relief. “Say, if anything had happened to her I’d hike straight back to the yacht and blow a hole through Brack’s head the second I saw him.”

“The yacht?” I cried. “Do you mean to say the yacht is near at hand?”

“Right up at the end of the bay there,” was his casual reply. “Riordan ran ’er up right after you’d left that afternoon with the boss. Say, how long ago is that, Brains?”

“Two days ago, isn’t it?”

“Yah! You ain’t sure yourself, are you? It’s been long for you, too, eh? Seems about a month to me. An’ you been living in the cave! Say! Look at this.” He patted the sweater which he was wearing and which was swollen far out in front.

“Grub,” he said. “Come on; let’s beat it before anybody comes nosing around.”

“Pierce!” I said, “do you mean to say that you’ve got food—real, civilized food there?”

“Sure. I was on my way to the cave to feed you. Wait a second while I get my rifle.”

He dove back into the willows and reappeared bearing the rifle which I had taken from Barry.

“Come on. Lead the way. Tell you all about it later. Got to beat it now. I put a bump on Garvin’s bean to get away and they may be after me any minute. Go ahead, fast’s you can; I’ll keep up.”

* * * * *

I waited to ask no more questions but plunged into the forest at a run with Pierce following at my heels. There was no need for caution now and we went straight to the cave, to find Betty ruefully picking the bird I had shot. At the sight of Pierce she stopped and stared, while I took the bird from her hand.

“No need for this now,” I laughed. “Here’s Freddy, and he’s brought us some real civilized food.”

“Best I could do,” said Pierce, and opening his belt there clattered to the floor of the cave a quantity of the _Wanderer’s_ choicest viands that made me gasp. “Wilson’s sweater,” explained Pierce, looking at the pile. “Big enough for two of me. Held quite a lot, didn’t it?”

“Food!” Betty clasped her hands and gazed in amazement at the collection.

There was potted turkey, _paté-de-foie-gras_, asparagus tips, veal-loaf, all in glass. There were packages of tea biscuit. There was a bundle which contained sandwiches.

“Food! Oh, you blessed, perambulating pantry! You—you angel!” she cried, and hugged Pierce in a way that left him red and stammering.

“Gee! Beg pardon—I mean, you’re all right, ain’t you, Miss Baldwin? Gee—I mean, that’s fine!”

“Freddy,” said I with genuine feeling, “as you say, ‘mitt me,’ once more. ‘Put ’er there.’ You’re a prince. You’re more than a prince; you’re a clever man.”

“Aw, c’m on now, Brains; don’t go kidding me,” he protested.

“Kidding you!” cried Betty, biting into a generous sandwich. “If you knew how we felt toward you at this moment—if you knew how like an angel you appear to us! Oh, but real food does taste good!”

“I ought to have got here before this,” said Pierce, as Betty and I devoted ourselves to nourishment, “but first Riordan had me locked in the engine-room, and then Brack had me there, and this was the first chance for a getaway I had.”

“Begin at the beginning,” I commanded, opening the asparagus. “We don’t know a thing except that when we came back the other night the yacht was gone.”

“And roll yourself a cigaret, do,” supplemented Betty.

“Aw—aw, I guess I can get along without smoking,” said Pierce lamely.

“Roll a cigaret,” repeated Betty. “Then tell us—about everything. And how is George—Mr. Chanler?”

XXXIV

“The boss is all right,” was Pierce’s prompt response, as he began to manufacture his cigaret. “Yes, sir, he’s all right, but he ain’t letting Brack know it. He’s a reg’lar guy, the boss is, after all.”

“Of course,” I said. “But begin at the beginning.”

“All right.”

He blew a puff of smoke toward the opening of the cave, fanned it away from Betty, and began:

“The first thing that happened after you and the boss went up the bay, Mr. Pitt, was for little Freddy to slip into the water and go after his rifle, here. I did a dive when Riordan was taking a lunch, got up here, got the gun and got back on board before he knew I’d been gone. I hid the gun in the oil locker, back of the tanks where nobody could see it. I got through just in time, too, ’cause pretty soon Riordan comes on deck and orders me down to start the auxiliary engine, while he and the nigger gets up the anchor.

“I start her all right, but I says to myself if Riordan turns her nose out to sea I’ll get my gun and start a little mutiny all by my lonesome. Well, he don’t do nothing of the sort; just starts right up the bay, running on the auxiliary. I think that’s all right, because of course I knew it was the cap’s orders, and we was going up the same way you went. Then after awhile we anchored, and then I knew it wasn’t all right, because I tried the engine-room door and Riordan had me locked in tight.

“The cap let me out himself in the morning, because Doc’ Olson had told him he wanted me to help him with the boss and the two guys that was shot.”

“Shot!” cried Betty. “Who was shot?”

“The two seamen that Dr. Olson said were hurt,” I said hurriedly. “Never mind now. Go on, Freddy.”

“The doc’ just got me out to get a chance to slip me the news about you and where you’d gone; but there wasn’t any chance for a getaway ’cause Brack was there, and Garvin was on guard all the time with his gun. Doc sent me running first to the boss and then to Wilson and the two other guys with dope and drinks, and so on, and pretty soon the boss got his noodle working and starts framing things.”

“Chanler began to think out a plan,” I translated to Betty.

“Eh-yah,” continued Freddy unabashed. “It was the boss that framed it all up. He’s a reg’lar guy. ‘Tell Wilson to pretend to be worse,’ says he. ‘I’ll do the same.’ Wilson was fit to get up, but the boss says, no; he and Wilson were to be like they was helpless. Then the boss says to Brack he’d give him any sum he’d name if he’d sail out of there and take him home.”

“What?” said Betty. “George wanted to leave us?”

“Naw! You don’t understand. Naw, I should say not he didn’t want to leave anybody. I told you he was a reg’lar guy. And there with the brains, too. He was just playing up to Brack. But cappy says he couldn’t think of leaving without—well, you know; he’s a pretty wicked guy.”

“I understand,” said Betty quietly. “Well?”

“So the boss pretended to have a fit, and did a lot of fancy stalling. You see now, don’t you: the boss is putting cappy off his guard and laying for a chance to jump the bunch and get control of the yacht.”

“But, great heavens!” I expostulated. “They’ve no arms, and they’re outnumbered.”

“Well, they ain’t outnumbered so bad,” said Pierce. “There’s the boss, and Wilson, and Doc Olson, and Simmons, and the big nigger. Oh, yes; we got the nigger with us. I know he wanted to get Garvin, and felt him out. He’s only waiting to be turned loose.”

“It’s impossible,” said I. “Brack and his men are armed to the teeth.”

“That’s the trouble. If we’d had a gun apiece there’d been something doing this morning while the cap was away. But the cap’s cleaned the boat of guns and got ’em in his possession, ’cept one Doc’ Olson copped off one of the men who was shot. So Wilson told me what to do, and I sneaked an iron bar into his room and two into the boss’s, one for him and one for Simmons, and the nigger’s got a knife down one pants leg and a club down the other. When the chance comes they’re going to try to put cappy out of business while the nigger gets Garvin. The rest of ’em don’t amount to much. The trouble is the chance don’t come.

“The boss was worried about you last night. He said we’d have to try to get some grub to you since we didn’t have a chance to get the yacht. The last thing he says to me last night was, ‘Remember, we’ve got to get some grub to ’em tomorrow no matter what happens to us.’

“Well, when the cap went away this morning after he heard that shot, he set Barry to watching the boss and Simmons, and Doc’ all in the boss’s room. Garvin was set to doing a watch aft, and Riordan was set to pacing the deck to watch everything in general. The two guys who was hurt had guns, too. I knew Barry’d get the boss if we tried to start anything, so I just put on Wilson’s sweater and stuffed it full of food, and got my gun and waited for a chance to get away without being seen. But there was Garvin aft, near the shore I wanted to make, and Riordan doing the rounds. But I remembered what the boss’d said about getting you grub, and when Riordan was forward I took a chance.

“Garvin turned around just as I was getting ready to clout him and he got the butt right in the temple. Then I did a dive, and if I’d had ten feet farther to swim it would have been a ‘good-by Freddy,’ because the grub and rifle was pretty heavy, and Riordan took one shot at me just as I made the brush. Then I hiked it and swam the river, and I was hiding when you stood up and swore at cappy.”

“Did you swear?” demanded Betty, turning to me. “Did you really swear at him? Oh, I’m so glad; I was afraid you never did it.”

“And don’t you worry,” concluded Freddy, “the boss is all there and wide awake, and there ain’t going to be any fall-down: when the chance comes he’ll put the trick over and we’ll be out of the woods. He’s just living for that now.”

And Betty and I said as one—

“Good old George!”

“There’s only one thing worrying me,” resumed Freddy, peering out apprehensively. “The cap’ll be wise that I made a getaway to join you, and he’ll see my tracks where I crossed the river and come this way looking for the bunch of us.”

“That’s nothing to worry about,” I assured him. “Two of his men were within fifty feet of the cave a short time ago and didn’t see it.”

“What I’m worrying about,” said Betty, “is that you left George.”

“Hah? The boss? Why, how could I get the grub to you without leaving him? And he says we got to do that no matter what happened to us.”

“We could have got along without the food,” Betty continued, “and by leaving the yacht you weakened George’s plan. If he attempts to overcome Brack now he—why, he may be in danger of his life.”

“Sure thing. That’s understood. The boss knows that, but that ain’t what’s worrying him, not at all. If he can fix things right with you, that’s all he cares about. He told me so.”

“Chanler is himself again,” I said. “You remember I said he would be.”

Betty sat with her chin in her hands, thinking. Her eyes were turned in my direction, but she was seeing beyond me without noticing my presence. Suddenly she spoke the words that brought upon us the great crisis.

“I won’t have George risking his life on my account. I can’t bear that. I won’t have it.”

XXXV

For a moment after she spoke I experienced a sensation as if the sound, comfortable earth had dropped away from beneath me, a sensation of a great fall into a void. Then followed the impression that after all, Betty was a stranger; that I did not know her at all.

“I won’t have George risking his life for me,” she repeated quietly. “I—I’ll go back on board before that.”

I went from cold to warm. Freddy tried to speak and I silenced him with a look. When I spoke, my voice was hoarse and heavy.

“Miss Baldwin, you will not go aboard until Brack is beaten, and the yacht is in our possession. I am responsible to Chanler for your safety.”

There followed a trying period of silence.

“Why—why, Mr. Pitt!” Betty finally tried to laugh, but the grimness of my expression must have convinced her that laughter was out of place. “That was the first rude speech you have made. Do you realize how rude it was?”

I did not speak. Her solicitude for George had awakened in me an anger, adamite and smoldering, which grew with each minute. George must not risk his precious life! Freddy had risked his. I had risked mine. But George must be protected at all costs! And why? Why, because he meant so much to her that the lives of others, and her own safety, were insignificant in comparison? I made an attempt to smile.

“Mr. Pitt! Gardy!” she cried, shrinking. “Don’t look at me that way. What are you going to do?”

“I beg your pardon; I didn’t realize that I was looking at you in an offensive manner.”

“What—are you—going—to—do?”

I looked at the ground. It did not take me long to make my plans. I said—

“I’m going to pray that it’s a very dark night.”

From that moment the hearty camaraderie which had existed between us was gone. We seemed to have been moved far apart. Betty once more was Miss Baldwin; I was not Gardy, but Mr. Pitt. She literally drew away from me and from a distance cast puzzled glances in my direction.

Then we became formally polite to one another. When we spoke it was as if we had been but recently introduced, and we spoke only when it was necessary. And Freddy wrinkled his freckled forehead and glanced from Betty to me, frankly puzzled.

It was a long day for us all in the cave. When darkness finally began to fall we greeted it with relief. Freddy, peering out at the darkening sky, said:

“Well, your prayers have been answered all right: it’s going to be dark enough to suit anybody. Now put me next, Brains; what’s your stunt?”

“Brack doesn’t know that I’ve got this pistol,” I said.

“What of it?”

“As he thinks I’m unarmed—helpless—he won’t be on his guard—when I go aboard tonight.”

“Oh!” It was Betty who exclaimed, but she smothered the exclamation with her hand.

“What you going to do when you get on board?” asked Pierce.

“You’ll stay here with Miss Baldwin,” I continued, paying no attention to his query. “If everything goes as I hope, George will come down and bring you to the yacht.”

It was dark now and I prepared to leave.

“Hold on,” said Pierce. “What’s the use of your going swimming in that cold water? You’d have to swim the river, and then out to the yacht, and by the time you go on board you’d be so cold and stiff you wouldn’t be any good. Tell you what let’s do; let’s paddle up in the canoe, you ’n’ me. It’s so dark they’d never see us. Then you can get on board, warm and supple, and fit to do something.”

There was much sense in his argument, and after discussing it for awhile I agreed to it. Brack, of course, must not suspect Pierce’s presence.

“As soon as I go over the side you’re to paddle off and be ready to return to Miss Baldwin.”

“Sure. Anything you say, Brains.”

“Thank you,” said Betty stiffly, “but there will be no need for you to come back here for me. Mr. Pitt, just as surely as you go away without me I’ll leave this cave and go to the yacht alone. I mean it. I will not be left here. You can take me in the canoe, too. I will be as safe as Mr. Pierce.”

“You will stay right here,” said I.

“Will I!” she slipped past me, bounded through the brush, and stood outside the cave, ready to run. “I can find the yacht. You can’t catch me. Now, Mr. Pitt, what shall it be?”

Pierce promptly relieved the situation.

“We can land her at some point up there. That’ll be all right, won’t it?”

“Ask her,” I said.

“Yes; that will be all right,” she replied promptly.

* * * * *

With this understanding we carried the canoe down to the water, and with Betty in the middle, started up the fiord. As Pierce said, my prayers for a dark night seemed to have been answered.

So complete was the darkness that twice we grounded, having run into land which we were not able to see. The sound of the river current warned us when we had reached the head of the bay, and carefully following the shore we glided through the opening where I had seen Brack’s boat disappear.

“There—there she is, right ahead of us,” whispered Pierce, and in the inchoate darkness we made out a series of tiny lights, the gleam from the _Wanderer’s_ cabin windows.

“She’s laying bows out with her stern near the shore on our port,” whispered Pierce as we backed water and lay still. “Her starboard’s toward us. There’s one ladder down at the stern and one at the bow, port side. Better take the bow one; the cap’s more’n likely to be aft. And there’s a good place to land Miss Baldwin, right here.”

We lay without moving or speaking for many long, distressful seconds.

“Mr. Pitt,” whispered Betty finally, “do you insist on going through with your mad plan?”

“Yes.”

We were silent again.

“All right,” said Betty.

Pierce silently moved the canoe to the shore on our port side, the shore toward which the _Wanderer’s_ stern was turned, and without a word Betty stepped out.

“Pierce will come back here as soon as he sees me go over the side,” I whispered.

She made no reply. Then we paddled silently away, steering for the _Wanderer’s_ bow.