Part 10

He bent the arm backward, savagely twisting at the stubborn fingers and the bargeman’s hand came loose. Jed was on his knees, out of breath and for the moment bewildered at the turn of events. He was not the type who leaps rapidly into a strange situation, and he hesitated now. But not so Terry. The door of the cabin was opening as Terry grasped the arm of the cook.

“Overboard, and make for the shore,” Terry gasped, just as Maxwell and the Captain stormed out on deck. Fairly dragging the cook Terry leaped over the rail and into the water. He had no idea how deep the water was, but he hoped it was not very deep. Both he and Jed were breathing heavily, as much from excitement as anything else, and he hoped they would not have to swim far.

As a matter of fact, they did not have to swim at all. The water was just up to their armpits, and when they bobbed up out of it they found that they could wade to shore. The three men had now rushed to the rail and were shouting to them, and Todd was making their flight perilous by hurling at them large pieces of coal, which he got from a deck bunker close at hand. Besides wading forward as rapidly as possible they had to watch the flying coal, as one hit, especially on the head, would surely prove their undoing. Their flight through the water was maddeningly slow, as wading always is, and to increase their anxiety Maxwell leaped into the water and started after them.

“We’ve got to go faster,” Terry gasped in Jed’s ear. The cook nodded and plowed on, glancing back of him. Had not Terry urged him forward he would have fallen into the hands of the crew in short order, for his daring had quite melted away under the violence of past events. Luckily for them the barge had no small boat, and their immediate peril was the mate, who was forcing his way through the water toward them with savage determination.

The ground was becoming firmer under their feet and they were slowly but surely gaining the bank. A final desperate flounder and they reached the edge of the stream, to stagger onto the land. They would have gladly stopped there, but Maxwell was close to them and Todd was in the water following. Out of breath as they were, they had to start running as rapidly as possible through the woods.

Terry’s first thought had been to stop and fight, but he soon realized the futility of that. Maxwell was a huge man and a brutal one, and even if Terry could have depended on Jed’s help, it would have been a severe and doubtful battle. But the cook was no help in the present emergency and Todd was coming fast. Abandoning the thought of anything so rash as a stand Terry did the only sensible thing and took to flight, the silent cook with him.

The fact that the light had disappeared rapidly was greatly in their favor. It had been just at sunset that they had attacked Todd, and now the sun had gone down altogether. Out in the open it would not have made any difference, but here under the thick trees a welcome darkness was wrapping the woods like a cloak. It was not yet dark enough to hide them completely, but just enough to aid them materially. If they could keep away from the bargemen long enough to allow total darkness to settle over the countryside they would surely escape.

Maxwell had reached the shore and was plunging recklessly into the bushes after them. They could hear him coming and a few seconds later Todd followed his mate. Terry decided not to try to hide for a time yet, but to trust to luck to outrun the men. They were active men and likely to give the escaped pair a lively race of it, but Terry was sure that he at least could outrun them. His anxiety was the cook, but so far the man had made no complaint and was running well.

It did not last long, however. The cook seemed to lose his strength all at once. Even Terry, with all his athletic life to his credit, found the race cruel. His breath was coming fast, hurting his lungs severely, his legs felt as though lead weighed them down, and his eyes hurt. The cook began to falter and stumble, and Terry found his own progress slowed down as a result of having to give his arm to the man.

“I—I can’t make it, no—how,” gasped the cook. “You run on, bub. I’ll be all right.”

“Nothing doing,” breathed Terry. “We’ll look for cover and take a breathing spell.”

A dry brook supplied them with the very place of concealment that they wanted and they crawled into it. But instead of lying there Terry began to crawl along its bed on his hands and knees, finding relief in the fact that the leaves were wet and therefore helped by deadening all sounds. They followed this brook for two hundred yards and then lay still, listening.

The pursuing men made a lot of noise, but by its very nature the two in the brook knew what was going on. The men were uncertain, for they slowed down and began to talk together. Terry now had no fear of discovery, for the real darkness was coming over the woods and no human being could see them. Unless someone actually fell over them the chances of being captured were small. So they lay there, gradually getting their breath and recovering from the strain of the long chase. From time to time they heard a movement from the men and now and then a brief word.

They had lain there for perhaps half an hour when they heard the whistle of the barge blown three times, little sharp blasts. “The skipper’s callin’ them back,” whispered Jed, close to his ear. Terry nodded but did not move. They heard the men making their way back through the woods.

Just to be sure they lay there for another half hour and then crawled out. After a conference they decided that they would be wiser to go away from the river and seek some nearby town, where the matter could be reported to the local authorities. Accordingly, they struck off in a direction north of the river and walked for two hours. At the end of the time they gave it up and came to a halt.

“Nothing to do but call a halt until daylight,” decided Terry. “We don’t know whether we’re walking around in circles or not. Perhaps we can get a little sleep, if we can find a dry place.”

“What do you think of building a small fire?” inquired Jed.

“Where will we get the matches? The few I had in my pocket are soaked.”

Jed brought out a metal case. “I’ve got some in a waterproof case. Do you think it is all right to make a fire?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Terry, thoughtfully. “We must be far enough away now to be able to do it with safety. It isn’t what you’d call cold out tonight, but a small fire will dry us out and help a lot. Anyway, the captain blew the whistle for those fellows, so I guess we needn’t worry.”

“No, I think not,” answered Jed, beginning to gather what dry wood he could find. “They know that we have escaped and they’ll want to clear out as soon as possible. But I’m thinkin’ they’ll have one sweet job getting that barge off’n that sand bank.”

Jed made a good fire and they were grateful for its warmth. Under the spell of it the cook regained his spirits. He was glad to be rid of his association with the river crew and his admiration of Terry was tremendous.

“My goodness!” he exclaimed, talking about it. “I always sort of worshipped that captain, that is, I was scared to death of him. But you stood right up to him and told him if he wasn’t such an old man you’d lick him.”

Terry grinned. “I guess I said a few things that sound foolish now. That captain, old as he is, could probably break me in two if he wanted to. I guess the only reason he didn’t do it was because he realized that if he was ever caught he would suffer heavily for it. As to standing up to him, that wasn’t so hard, because I was thundering mad. I hate anything cowardly, and when I see it I always feel sure that I can lick the bully. Maybe you heard what Roosevelt said once, about Spain’s attitude toward little Cuba. He said: ‘When I see a bully beating a child, I want to beat the bully!’ Not classing you as a child, of course, but it made me boil to see him aim a kick at you.”

“I’m pretty much of a child in some ways,” answered Jed, seriously. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have been caught by that gang, and what they wouldn’t have done to me! You’re all right, bub!”

“Nonsense,” said Terry, hastily. “Do you want to get some sleep, Jed?”

It was finally arranged between them that they would each take two hours of sleep at a time while the other stood watch, and Jed was the first to turn in. Finding a fairly dry spot under a tree the cook slept well until awakened by Terry, who then took his turn. In this manner they spent the night and when the morning came they felt much better, though very hungry.

“Now to find a town,” said Jed, as they started out. After walking for a half hour they came to a road and followed it into a fairly large-sized town. A sign on the railroad station told them that it was Brockport. They were lucky enough to find a restaurant open and they bought breakfast, which Terry paid for, as the cook had left all his money on the barge. Once out on the street again they paused to consider.

“There is the sheriff’s office,” said Terry, pointing to a weather-beaten place down the street. “I guess we had better report to him. Shall we go down?”

Jed, assenting, they walked into the sheriff’s office, to find the man sitting at his desk reading a morning paper. He was a keen looking man, with iron gray hair and a face that spelled outdoor life in every line.

“’Morning, boys,” he hailed, looking at them searchingly. “What can I do for you?”

Terry told his story in detail and the interest of the sheriff grew as it was unfolded. When Terry had finished he reached for a battered hat and took a shotgun from a corner.

“I’ve had a few bits of trouble with this Captain Ryder before,” he said, grimly. “And I’m goin’ to get him now, if that barge is still stuck on that flat. Do you think that you can find your way back? If you can’t, we can go up the river bank.”

Realizing that they had turned and twisted in their flight on the previous evening the two told the sheriff that they were not sure that they could, so he decided to lead them up the river bank.

“I think that is the best way, after all,” explained Sheriff Atkins. “They may have gotten the barge afloat and we may see them coming down. I hope we get them. If we do I’ll lock them all up on your charge and others that I have.”

They gained the river bank and followed it up in the direction from which the boys had come. It was a good five miles to the point where the sand bar jutted out, and as they rounded a bend they could see the barge still stuck in the mud.

“Good huntin’,” nodded the sheriff, satisfaction in his tone. “Now, let’s hope the men are aboard. Say, what is that other boat near it?”

Terry looked and then shouted, “That’s my boat—my friends’ boat, the _Lassie_. I guess they were looking for me and somehow they got down the river. I wonder what they are going to do?”

They could see the sloop making for the barge, with Captain Blow standing on the bow. Don and Jim stood in the cockpit, Don holding onto the tiller. The sloop was drifting. They heard the captain call out.

“Ahoy there, barge! Hand over that boy of ours!”

The three members of the barge’s crew appeared from the cabin at his hail. Ryder walked to the rear rail and shook his fist at Captain Blow. Todd and Maxwell picked up handles from the hand winch and waited.

“You keep off o’ here!” they heard Ryder snarl. “We ain’t got your darned old boy. Do you hear? Keep off!”

Captain Blow turned to the boys back of him. “Get ready to board ship!” he roared.

Terry grasped the sheriff by the arm. “They’re no match for that crew! Let’s hurry up!”

“Don’t worry, son,” said the sheriff. “I’ll see that no one gets hurt.”

_20. The Voyage Resumed_

Securely screened behind a convenient clump of bushes the sheriff, Jed and Terry watched the scene before them, the sheriff smiling grimly, Jed intensely interested, and Terry frankly anxious. Totally unaware of their nearness the two crews faced each other, prepared for battle.

It was apparent that Captain Blow was thoroughly angry or he would never have even thought of risking the boys in a fight with the tough barge crew. He himself was well able to take care of Captain Ryder, but Todd and Maxwell would make short work of Jim and Don. And even with this knowledge in mind the cowardly members of the barge crew faced the crew of the sloop with clubs in hand.

Don and Jim might have wondered at the outcome, but if they were at all worried, the fact did not show in their looks. The sloop was drifting straight for the barge and Don was trying to steer it so as to move up broadside to the barge, on the side turned toward the open water, for Don realized that the barge was aground and he did not want to ground the sloop. Jim was standing beside his brother, quiet and a bit pale, but determined nevertheless. All three of them felt sure that Terry was aboard the barge and they were determined to rescue him, in spite of the menacing attitude of the men aboard.

The sloop scraped alongside the barge and the captain, disregarding the nearness of Ryder, tied it fast. The work had to be done swiftly, for the barge captain, who had not believed the three on the sloop would go through with it, rushed to the point where the captain looped the rope. Blow sprang over the rail and faced the captain of the barge, and Don and Jim, with clenched fists followed over the stern of the _Lassie_. As Captain Blow closed with the old barge man, Todd and Maxwell rushed furiously at the two boys, their ugly clubs upraised.

To Terry’s intense relief the sheriff stepped out in plain sight on the bank and roared across the water. His voice acted like a shock on the combatants.

“Hey, there!” the sheriff bellowed. “Hold up that there play!”

All action came to an abrupt end and the party on the deck of the river barge swung around. The sheriff with Terry and Jed beside him, stood on the bank, his shotgun leveled at the crew. With his eyes sighted along the barrel he waved the gun slowly back and forth between the three men.

“It’s Terry!” shouted Jim, and Terry waved to his friends. Captain Blow, who had a firm grip on the arm of Ryder, slowly released his hold.

“Get over here in your dinghy,” shouted the sheriff, keeping an alert eye on the barge crew. “Never mind those fellows. I’ll take care of them.”

Don, who was nearest, sprang over the rail of the sloop, untied the dinghy, and quickly rowed to the shore, where he was soon enthusiastically pounding Terry on the back.

“Chucklehead, you old rascal!” he exulted. “I’m mighty glad to see you.”

“Not nearly so glad as I am to see you,” drawled Terry, with a grin. “Let’s get the sheriff out to the barge.”

When Sheriff Atkins reached the barge and faced the sullen crew he nodded curtly to Captain Ryder. “’Morning, Ryder. Thought it was time I got hold of you. Didn’t think these two fellows would get to me, did you?”

“What do I care where they got?” snarled the captain. “You can’t hold me, Atkins.”

“Can’t, eh?” remarked the sheriff. “I can hold you on a couple of charges, but this one is the most serious. Kidnapping and attempted assault is a pretty mess, Ryder. If we hadn’t popped up in a short time you would have done some damage to these boys and this captain.”

“Right, sheriff,” put in Captain Blow. “We wouldn’t have thought of taking on these men except we thought Terry was tied up somewhere and we didn’t know where to get help. Much obliged for coming along when you did.”

“Never mind the much obliged,” said the sheriff, briskly. “Pile these fellows onto your sloop and we’ll run them down to Brockport and the county jail. This is your last job, Ryder.”

With ugly looks but in utter silence the crew passed over to the sloop and the boys followed. A hasty search of the cabin of the barge was made by Blow and Jed, under the direction of the sheriff, who never lowered his gun, but as nothing valuable was found they left it and the sloop took to the middle of the river on the way to Brockport. The barge crew sat on the top of the cabin, while the others clustered in the cockpit, the sheriff’s gun pointed unwaveringly at the men.

“How’d you fellows come to arrive when you did?” the sheriff asked the captain.

“We got the direction from the kidnapped lighthouse keeper,” Captain Blow explained, “and we’ve been coming down the river all night. It wasn’t long after daylight when we drew near the spot where these fellows was, and we saw their barge stuck in the mud. So, thinkin’ our boy was on board, we got ready for a fight, but your artillery saved us from a terrible drubbing, I’m thankful to say.”

“Yes, I guess it did. Your boy Terry and this Jed, who was cook of the barge, run the craft on the mud bank last night and escaped. Oh, you fellows needn’t glare at Jed like that! Pretty soon you’ll be behind bars and Jed’ll be out free, where he can enjoy life like an honest man. So instead of clearing country you stayed to get the barge off of the mud bank, eh? Pretty poor judgment, wasn’t it, boys?”

“We didn’t think that these two would get to anybody, and it looked like we could get the barge off’n the mud,” began Maxwell, but his captain interrupted savagely.

“Shut up, Max! Don’t tell ’em nothing!”

The sheriff laughed at the captain’s outburst of temper. Just then they sighted the dock at Brockport and sailed up to it.

The inhabitants were greatly excited when the sheriff marched the three men to the local jail, but Atkins calmly locked his men up and then rejoined the boys and the captain and Jed. They went to his office and signed a formal warrant, after which they went back to the sloop. It was there that they said goodbye to Jed.

They had tried to persuade him to come with them but Jed had other plans. “I’m going to work here in Brockport for a time and then move on, probably to get back to farming somewhere. The sheriff says he can get me a job in a store.” He shook hands heartily with Terry. “I won’t never forget you, bub. My gosh! how you stood up to that captain, and now he’s behind the bars. Some little fun we had together, eh?”

“We certainly did, Jed,” laughed Terry, his red hair bobbing up and down in the manner which had given him his nickname. “But don’t forget that if it hadn’t been for you I would never have made it. It was you who told me of the sand bar and you jumped on Todd. The best of luck, Jed.”

Jed shook hands with the rest of the boys and then waved to them as they sailed back up the river. As soon as things were settled they all sat down and explanations came from each side. When Terry finished his story the captain was hugely tickled.

“So you just up and shoved that barge on the sand bank, eh? Jumping thunder, if that don’t beat all. You fellows do the darnedest things I ever heard of.”

The run back to Mystery Island took them two days, and they were glad to get there. They spent one delightful day with the captain and then got ready to resume their cruise. The captain went out to the sloop with them just before they were ready to cast off and shook hands.

“Come to see me again,” he invited. “I’m real happy to have known you. You will come again, won’t you?”

“We surely will,” promised Don. “And please accept our thanks for your very fine friendship and service, captain. We won’t forget it in a hurry, you may believe.”

“Oh, say, you’ve had that bandit gang almost in your hands a couple of times. If you run afoul of ’em again, try to hold on to them, will you?”

“We surely will,” said Jim, grimly. “I think we’re going to get those fellows, yet. If we don’t, it won’t be because we haven’t tried.”

“I bet it won’t! Well, so long, boys. And good luck.”

As the _Lassie_ headed out to sea the boys turned more than once to wave to their old friend, until they could not see him any longer. Then they settled down once more to enjoy their cruise.

_21. The “Black Mummy”_

“Say Jim, there’s a good-sized freighter.”

Don sitting at the tiller of the _Lassie_ called his brother’s attention to a large black freighter that could be seen some distance off their starboard bow. It was several days later, and the three boys had cruised leisurely down the coast, stopping now and then at cities to buy provisions and see the sights. They were now near the coast of Massachusetts, not far from Boston, which was their ultimate destination. They had been sailing along under motor power all afternoon, and now, toward evening, Don sighted the black freighter.

The weather had been stormy, as Captain Blow had assured them it would be. He had made the prediction just before they had sailed, and the boys took his word for it. Wind and rain had taken up most of the cruise, but as sailing under such conditions was more interesting than calm sailing the boys had not complained or greatly minded.

Terry and Jim looked toward the strange freighter with interest. It was a shabby-looking boat, with the paint peeling off the sides. It wallowed in the choppy waves about a mile to windward. During the cruise the boys had not seen many freighters and they looked eagerly at this one.

“Wonder where she’s from?” said Jim.

“Haven’t any idea,” Don returned. “Maybe it’s just some old coaler or lumber carrier. Quite a number of the old ships have been turned into carriers. Funny thing, look at those smokestacks.”

“What’s wrong with ’em?” asked Terry.

“There isn’t any smoke coming out of them,” Don said. “I can’t hear its engine running and from here it looks as if there’s nobody on deck. Get out the glasses, will you, Jim?”

Jim went below, to return a few minutes later with a pair of marine glasses. He looked toward the freighter.

“You’re right about the smokestacks,” he said. “And I wonder where the crew is? What kind of a skipper must they have on that ship?”

“He must be a poor one,” Don commented. “Hold the tiller while I take a look.”

Jim took over the tiller and Don looked steadily in the direction of the big ship. After a time he lowered the glass.

“I can’t make out anyone on the bridge,” he said. “Could you?”

Jim shook his head. “No. Take a look and see if the flag is upside down.”

“Why should it be upside down?” Terry asked.

“If it is upside down it is a signal of distress.”

“The flag is all right,” Don reported a moment later. “That freighter looks strange to me. Shall we run close and look it over?”

“Yes, let’s do that.” And suiting his words with instant action Jim moved the tiller until the _Lassie_ was heading toward the freighter.

“Gosh, we surely look awfully small alongside that baby,” Terry remarked.

“Yes, that’s a big ship. I notice that it is pretty low in the water, too. It must be loaded with something heavy,” said Don.

The sloop moved through the water at a lively clip and rapidly cut down the distance that separated the two boats. As they drew nearer Don trained his glass on the bow of the freighter.

“Well, jeepers, that’s a name for you!” he said suddenly.

“What’s its name?” asked Terry.

“Nice cheerful one,” grinned Don. “It is called the _Black Mummy_!”

“Oh, boy!” breathed Jim. “Some undertaker or grave digger must own it!”

They drew so near to the freighter that the aid of the glass was no longer necessary. Both Don and Jim discovered an important fact at the same time.

“There is no one at the wheel!” they said, in a chorus.

“What does that mean?” Terry asked.

“I don’t know,” Don confessed. “The wheel isn’t lashed down, either. It must mean that either the captain and crew are all sick or there is no one on that freighter!”

“An abandoned freighter?” cried Terry.

“Possibly. If everything was normal there would surely be someone around. But something is wrong when there isn’t a man anywhere on deck.” He turned to Jim. “Suppose we ought to hail them?”