The Outdoor Chums on the Lake: or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island

True, Frank could easily have raised his gun and shot the ferocious creature dead in its tracks; but such an explosion must warn the enemy of their presence in the vicinity, and effectually prevent any surprise.

It looked like a serious problem, and yet it must be solved immediately unless they wanted to experience an encounter at close quarters with that fury.

“Hold up! give me a chance. Duck your heads, fellows; I’m going to flashlight the critter!” exclaimed Bluff. And even as he spoke, there was a sudden startling illumination that lit up the immediate vicinity like day.

CHAPTER XVIII – UNDER THE CABIN WALL

“So-long!” exclaimed the ex-cowboy, as he dropped to the ground.

Frank did not know just then whether Tom Somers was trying to evade an expected attack from the big cat, or had been startled and alarmed by the suspicious “click” behind him, instantly followed by that electric flash.

“He’s gone!” whispered Bluff, excitedly.

Frank breathed a sigh of relief. The day had been saved by Will’s inoffensive camera after all, for there was no alarm, and they had escaped an encounter with the poisonous claws of that beast of prey.

“And I bet I got a dandy picture of him, too, for Will. Say, this isn’t so bad, after all. Perhaps there can be some fun hunting with a camera,” pursued Bluff.

“Silence, Bluff. Let’s lie here a bit and listen. I hope we didn’t happen to be so close to their camp as to let them see that flash through the trees,” whispered Frank, dropping down.

Five minutes later they once more began to creep forward. At the suggestion of Tom Somers, all of them were now on their knees, Bluff, as before, bringing up the rear.

It was very thrilling work, and Bluff found himself trembling with excitement as he trailed after his companions.

“Sure he’s a peach at this sort of business, and it was a bully streak of luck when we ran across the poor wretch tied up to a tree,” he was saying to himself, as he watched Tom Somers gliding along, keeping an eye on the ground, and sometimes almost poking his nose against the earth in order to solve a knotty problem.

He hoped they would run up against no more bobcats. While fortune had smiled upon them on that last occasion, perhaps the same good luck might not always be their portion; and Bluff found no desire in his heart for a tussle at close quarters with the owner of a set of claws such as these beasts sported.

Frank and the other fellow seemed to be conferring in low whispers, and hence he crept up to learn what was in the wind.

“See anything, Frank?” he asked eagerly, as he pushed in beside his chum.

“Softly, Bluff. Yes, if you look through this little opening you can see it, too.”

“Why, it’s a house – a sort of old cabin, more like,” said Bluff, as he peeped.

“That’s just what it is. Now, search your memory, both of you – do you ever recollect hearing about any one living on Wildcat Island?” asked Frank.

“Sure I do, now that you ask. There was a queer man once who used to live like a hermit here. That was years ago. They found his skeleton in his cabin. Nobody ever knew what he died of, but it was alone, excepting for his dog, that ran wild till he was shot by a duck-shooter,” whispered Bluff.

“Glory! this here place is some on thrills,” grumbled Tom Somers.

“Never mind the things that are dead and gone. We have more to fear from those that are living. It looks as though the tramps have taken up their quarters in the deserted shack of the old hermit, doesn’t it, Tom?” asked Frank, in the ear of the other.

“It sure does, for a fact. Like as not the whole outfit is quartered there right now. And somehow I got a suspicion that our grub meandered this way, too. Seems like I see a familiar Boston baked-bean can lying there by the door, where they hustled it out after eating the contents.”

Frank made no reply to this insinuation. Whatever he thought he kept to himself.

“Oh! I wonder is Jerry there?” said Bluff, longingly, but managing to keep his tones lowered.

“That is something we mean to discover before a great while. I leave the manner of our approach entirely to Tom here,” declared Frank.

The outcast from Pet’s camp had proven his ability to be of great assistance to them, and Frank believed in encouraging a fellow. His words doubtless gave the other more or less satisfaction. When a boy feels that he is wholly trusted, he is very apt to do his level best.

“First of all I reckon there’s a better way to crawl up close to the shack than this one we’re on. So let’s trail around to the other side, fellers,” he said.

They succeeded in reaching the point he had in view. Even Bluff could see the wisdom of the move. The undergrowth was much more dense here, and extended quite up to the wall of the dilapidated cabin.

They could see that the new occupants had done some little rough tinkering in order to make a roof that would shed water reasonably well. From this it was easy to conclude that Waddy Walsh and his partner did not know just how long they might have to utilize this place as a hide-out, and thought it best to be ready to stand a rainy siege such as the Spring was apt to produce at any day.

Frank felt Bluff clawing at his legs. There was something in the act to tell him his chum was desirous of speaking to him, and he allowed the other to pull up alongside so they could put their heads together.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Didn’t you hear it?” queried Bluff, as if surprised.

“What? I heard nothing.”

“All that whistling on the lake. Sounded to me like that little tug, Rainy Day, that tows the lumber down to the outlet. She was close by, too,” replied Bluff.

“It must have been away off, for I didn’t hear a bit of it. Perhaps it was the tug, too; but she belongs up at the other end of the lake. What could bring her down here?”

“I had an idea that perhaps the sheriff and his posse might be aboard her,” ventured Bluff, and he was instantly seized by his comrade.

“That’s just what it meant. I hope Will’s met them and told how the land lies here. If that is true it means the beginning of the end?” whispered Frank.

“And perhaps we may be back in our good old camp by night time, who knows?” answered the other, joyfully.

Still, neither of them had the slightest thought of relaxing their efforts with regard to investigating the interior of that cabin, and ascertaining whether their comrade was being detained there against his will, perhaps in bonds, that cut his flesh cruelly.

Tom had noted the fact that the others were holding a little powwow, and hence he did not push on so as to leave them. In fact, Tom was not at all particular about quitting the society of these stout-hearted fellows even for a minute, while in such a ghostly neighborhood. Tom believed in spirits, and the story Bluff had told about that skeleton was ever before him.

When they began to advance once more, he also started off.

They were now so close to the cabin that if any one had been talking aloud inside those old moss-grown walls the boys could not have failed to hear the sounds.

There had been a window, but it was closed with a bunch of dead grass, and, of course, none of the boys thought of trying to remove this obstacle in connection with their obtaining a view of the interior. The only other opening, no doubt, was the door, which was allowed to remain wide open all the time for air and light.

Dare one of them crawl around the corner of the cabin and try to look in at that entrance? The risk seemed almost too much. Still, Frank remembered that they had two guns among them, while, so far as they knew, the hoboes possessed none; at least they had shown nothing of the sort thus far.

He had been thinking this over, however, and concluded that it hardly stood to reason that such desperate characters as these two, one an escaped reform school inmate and the other a yeggman tramp, would be entirely without some means of defence. Perhaps one of them might have a revolver which he had up to now kept out of sight for some reason.

Tom was pulling at Frank’s trousers entreatingly. Catching his attention, he made a gesture with his hand, as talking was now out of the question.

Following the line of his pointing finger, Frank saw what had attracted the eye of the boy who had been West. Some animal had for a time used the hut as a lodging-place, and as the door at the time may have been closed, had dug a tunnel under the wall at the back of the place.

Possibly the men inside had filled the hole up beyond the wall, but they had paid no attention to that which lay beyond.

Frank caught the idea instantly. It was to begin to tunnel under the wall, drawing away the earth piecemeal until an opening was made, when one of them might crawl through and make discoveries.

The idea appealed to him somehow or other, and, handing his gun silently to Tom, he set to work lifting handfuls of loose dirt, and gradually scooping out quite a hole. It was easy work because the place had only recently been filled in. As he worked he wondered what sort of an animal had made the tunnel under the wall; perhaps a wildcat, or it might have been a ’coon, hardly a bear, though such big game could be occasionally met with around Lake Camalot, especially along the headquarters of Lumber Run up at the other end of the body of water.

The minutes passed in this way. Several times Frank caught some sound beyond the wall, but could not make out what it might mean. He felt positive, however, that it was the home of the hoboes he had reached, and not a hiding-place of that strange creature so like a gigantic ape, but which wore shoes like a man.

Now he felt the earth growing lighter, as though he might be coming close to an end of his strange task. He was still digging away, eager to learn whether his plan could be carried out, when without the slightest warning something that moved came in contact with his flesh, and he felt his fingers seized by a human hand!

CHAPTER XIX – HOLDING BLUFF IN

Frank involuntarily tried to draw his hand back.

The grasp of the unknown, however, was too strenuous, and he could not do so unless he created such a disturbance as must have aroused any sleeper nearby. Besides, a wild suspicion had flashed through his mind. Perhaps this was his chum Jerry, trying to escape from his place of confinement.

He squeezed the fingers that clutched his. It was a sign manual used in the secret society to which both of them belonged in the Academy at Centerville. To his great delight the secret grip was returned immediately.

Then it was Jerry! He was alive, and even at that moment endeavoring to get away from those who were holding him against his will!

Frank felt like shouting aloud, so great a sense of gratitude swept over him; but fortunately he did not give way to such foolishness.

He put his head deep down into the hole he had made and whispered, making just the faintest sound possible:

“Jerry!”

“Frank!” came back like the sighing of the wind up in some of those lofty trees that overhung the lonely cabin with such a bad name.

Then the last doubt vanished. It only remained to get Jerry out of that place as soon as possible. Why, left to himself he seemed able to force his way to freedom, and with what aid they could extend surely only a few minutes would be needed to accomplish it.

Even as he thought thus, he felt his hand violently thrust back. At the same moment there was the sound of heavy voices in the cabin. Evidently one or both of the tramps must have entered the second room and discovered Jerry on his knees engaged in tunneling out.

There was no sound of a blow struck. Had there been, Frank could never have contained himself, but regardless of consequences must have rushed around to where the door lay, and burst into the place.

As it was, he backed away and joined his comrades, who, it can easily be understood, were more than curious to know what all this meant.

“Is he in there?” demanded Bluff, close to the ear of his chum.

“Yes, I whispered his name and he answered by saying mine,” came the thrilling reply.

“Good! good! let’s storm the measly old rookery, and hold up those hoboes at the muzzle of our guns. We’ve got the men, and we’ve got the guns!” said Bluff; but his comrade drew him down again ere he could rush forth.

“Wait! Be cool. This is no time to make mistakes. I thought of that, but they’ve shut the cabin door. Perhaps they begin to suspect some of us are around. It may be they even heard Jerry whisper my name. All we want to do is to see that they do him no injury. After a while the sheriff will be along to take care of these jail-birds, all right,” Frank went on.

He said no more, because they once again began to move farther away from the cabin walls. There was a chance, however, that one of the ferocious inmates might come out to investigate the conditions, so Frank did not want to go so far that he could not hold the fellow up and cause a surrender.

“What can we do now?” asked Bluff, as they crouched in a thick jungle, with the cabin lying on their left, and only some twenty paces off.

“Watch and wait. If one of them comes out we’ll make him a prisoner. The door is there, and no one is likely to escape us. Keep ready for a quick move, both of you,” whispered Frank in return.

“Oh! I saw something moving up in that big tree – the one that is half dead,” came from Tom just then.

“Where at in the tree?” demanded Frank, ready to examine into anything that happened to come before their attention, no matter how odd.

“Say just where that gaping hole lies – about ten feet up. The blame thing’s hollow, that’s a cinch, and some critter’s got a nest in it. Maybe an owl, but I’d rather believe ’twas a cat, or perhaps a real b’ar. Looky, there she is again!”

Each of them had his eyes glued upon the spot indicated in his low-toned communication by the ex-cowboy. There certainly was something moving, for while the light was not very strong at that particular place, still they could see an object projected from the gap.

Quickly it pushed farther out, and there dawned upon their startled vision the same ape-like creature that had terrorized the camp of Pet Peters’ crowd on the previous night. It seemed, as near as they could judge in that uncertain light, to be covered with hair, just as a chimpanzee would be, and its face was in keeping with the remainder of its hideous form.

Bluff and Tom crouched there and shivered as they watched this awesome figure scramble down from its perch by the aid of the broken dead limbs. It dropped lightly on the ground with a grunt, and then scurried off through the undergrowth.

Tom gave a sigh of relief.

“It’s gone, and I’m mighty near the stampedin’ point myself,” he admitted.

“Why, it was that wild man, as sure as fate. Oh! how Will must carry on when he knows I had such a glorious chance to get him, and lacked the nerve,” whispered Bluff, still shaking with excitement, or something else.

“It’s just as good you didn’t,” snickered Frank; “for the sound would have betrayed us to the chaps in the cabin.”

“You seem to be tickled about something – suppose you tell a fellow what you see funny about that awful monster? I’d like to laugh too, but I declare if my lips ain’t frozen stiff. Is it a wild man, or a beast? Why, I tell you his body is covered with reddish hair, and his face, will I ever get it out of my mind?”

Bluff was plainly much excited, but Frank seemed quite cool.

“Never mind. Later on I may tell you something I’ve thought of. But he’s gone, I suppose, and we can consider the cabin again,” replied Frank.

“Why not rush it? Given a log, and I vow Tom and I can knock in that old door just like you’d smash an egg,” pleaded the impatient Bluff.

“That would be poor policy. In the first place those are desperate men, who are wanted for robbery, and they know the jail is fairly itching to hold them. Consequently they’re ready to take all sorts of chances before giving up. I wouldn’t put it past them to fire on us, to wound, at least, if not worse.”

“But look here, they haven’t got any guns, have they?” demanded Bluff.

“We only guessed that they hadn’t, but we can’t be sure. Such ugly customers are hardly likely to go without some means of defense, and Tom here will back me up in that. Besides, they’ve certainly got our chum,” declared Frank, seriously.

“Perhaps you’re right, Frank, but I’d be willing myself to take all the chances in a mix-up with that crowd,” grumbled poor Bluff, who always seemed to be close upon the border of an opportunity to do something, only to have the glorious prize snatched from his hands.

He looked longingly toward the lonely cabin, as though he yearned to have a shy at that ricketty door. According to his mind, once it was down those tramps would be only too glad to throw up their hands, just as Pet Peters and his crowd had done when he covered them on the lake.

Frank himself hardly knew what action to take.

“If I only thought they wouldn’t take it out on poor Jerry, I’d be tempted to let Bluff work his bold little trick. But I’m afraid. I know what such men can do, with a long prison term staring them in the face. Some of them would just as soon he hung for a sheep as a lamb,” he muttered.

“Do you really think they’d hurt Jerry?” asked Bluff, solicitously.

“What do you know of that Waddy Walsh?”

“He was always a cruel chap, that’s a fact. I’ve known him to torture a dog in a terrible way. That was really why he was sent away. Nobody could do anything with him; even the town authorities had to give up the job,” replied Bluff.

“There you are, then. Now, he’s hitched up with a rascal much worse than himself, from all accounts. Think of those bold robberies all around. I tell you that pair make a desperate team, and I shiver to think of what they could do to Jerry if hard pushed. Perhaps, after all, we’d better – ”

What Frank was about to suggest was never spoken. Tom Somers jerked his arm to signify that he had better cease whispering; and as Frank twisted his head around to see what had happened to alarm their new comrade, he discovered moving figures approaching from the same quarter they had themselves come out of.

His first thought was that Sheriff Dodd had arrived with his posse. Indeed, it was only with a supreme effort that he refrained from leaping to his feet and wildly beckoning. Then he was glad he had been guilty of no such foolish act, for he learned that this was far from being the truth.

“They’ve come back!” exclaimed Tom, in a low tone, yet plainly disturbed; “looks like they wanted to make sure of me, and had follered us here so as to corral me!”

Then Frank understood. The flight of Pet Peters and his followers had been, after all, something of a bluff, for they had again left the western shore and landed on Wildcat Island; more than that, they were even now creeping toward the cabin, as if bent upon some desperate undertaking!

CHAPTER XX – THE ESCAPE OF JERRY

“One, two, three, four!”

Frank was counting the shadowy figures that came flitting closer, stooping over as they advanced, some carrying cudgels, and others different kinds of weapons as if they expected trouble presently.

“Five, six – what, seven, yes, and eight! Where did they pick up the other two members of the crowd?” he was saying to himself as he gazed from his snug retreat.

Then he noticed that a couple were armed with guns. This gave him a clue which he easily followed to a logical conclusion. On the western shore of the lake Pet and his disgruntled followers must have run across a couple of their cronies, who were apparently out hunting, though the law allowed of no shooting of game at this time of year.

These fellows may even have been acting with the sheriff, who had offered a certain reward for the apprehension of the hobo thieves. Upon exchanging stories it may have been decided to return to the island in a bunch, and make a bold attempt to round up the tramps, who were believed to be without any guns. That reward would look big in the eyes of these fellows.

No doubt the presence of the old cabin was known to these boys, and they had guessed that their quarry might be found hiding there in the heart of the jungle.

Frank laughed to himself at this new complication. It began to look as if Waddy and his pal would soon be between a lot of fires that must scorch them, whichever way they turned.

He put a hand cautiously on Bluff. That individual was so impulsive there could be no telling just how he might act, and this touch would serve to calm him down.

The flitting figures had now all passed the hiding boys, avoiding the dense thicket in which they were crouching, as there were easier passages around. Looking out, Frank could see them moving around the cabin, as if trying to ascertain some weak place where an entrance could be effected.

“Huh!” grunted Bluff, a little incautiously it seemed, “they’re going to do what I wanted to try – make an entrance. Some of them have gone to pick up that log, and others are peeking in at the window, where the hay sticks out. If it was bigger they’d just like to crawl through. And we sit here like a set of babies. Huh!”

“Hold up, now, and consider. What’s to hinder our letting them do the work, and then when they go to reap the results we can just step up and take the plum away,” cautioned his comrade.

“I see. Like the monkey that got the cat to pull his hot chestnuts out of the fire, eh? Talk about Jerry being a lawyer, he ain’t in the same class with you, Frank.”

“Watch!” was all the other replied to this shower of bouquets.

“Something’s going to happen to them fellers around there before they know it,” remarked Tom Somers, grimly, though, of course, he followed the example of the others and kept his voice down to the lowest possible notch.

“What makes you say that?” asked Bluff, always eager for information.

“I seen something poking up along the roof. I reckon one of them hoboes is going to come out up thar, and drop something down on Pet and the fellers. Gee! but don’t I hope he slams it in hard. It’d make my cuts sting a heap less if I see them guys have to take to the tall timber.”

Tom was feeling vindictive, and really, after having seen his bruises, and remembering how shabbily he had been treated by his pards, Frank could hardly blame him for such a desire. Tom was only human, after all.

Still, what he had said aroused the curiosity of both Frank and Bluff. They riveted their attention upon the roof of the cabin. As stated before, this being badly dilapidated, the hoboes had spent some time patching the same the best they knew how.

It was even now in a shaky condition, and apt to give way if any daring soul ventured to put his weight upon it.

At least Tom was right, for they quickly discovered that a certain portion of this roof was actually moving, and even as they looked what seemed to be a human arm was thrust through. Some one was evidently making an opening, removing the pieces one by one at a place where they had been fastened across a former hole.

Frank felt that there was something more about this than appeared on the surface. He also noted that the fellows on the ground had by now become aware that they were apparently about to be menaced from above; for he saw them crouching down under the spot from whence the pieces were falling, their eyes turned upward.

Then a head was finally thrust up through the opening. Bluff gasped again. It seemed as though he were bound to get shock after shock.

“Get next to that, will you?” he whispered in Frank’s ear, as he clutched his sleeve and jerked hard; “why, it’s our chum Jerry! Oh! ain’t he the candy kid, though?”

“Hush!” said the other, giving him a push, to keep him from rising in his excitement.

“Well, I take off my lid to him, anyway,” whimpered Bluff, unable to give proper expression to his feelings.

The boy whose actions they were watching seemed to have made up his mind that he must get out of that cabin some way or other. He had been halted in his tunneling operations, and perhaps there was some reason why he might not resume them, or try and open the door; but Jerry evidently could not be held in restraint.

It was possible that his captors were dozing, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, he was about to quit their company by means of the hole he had made in the roof.