Linda Carlton's Island Adventure

A big tree had fallen across the water, and she managed to reach it, and to cling to it for support while she rested. Her feet hung down in the muck, and she realized that the water was comparatively shallow. She wanted to laugh aloud in her relief.

Pulling herself up by her hands, she decided to walk the log to the bank, and had just poised herself upon its rather perilous round surface, when she encountered the greatest shock in her life thus far. Not ten yards away, in the very water where she would have been now, had she not mounted the log – was an alligator, at least eight feet long! Brave as she was usually in the face of other dangers, she let out a piercing scream of terror at the sight of this horrible monster.

"Now I've got to walk the log!" she thought. "It's death if I fall off!"

She watched the alligator a minute or two while she regained her self-control, and made sure that he was not moving. Then, with eyes straight ahead, she started to walk the log.

Once, toward the middle, she swayed, but it was only for a second. She straightened herself staunchly and marched on – to dry land.

Oh, the joy of feeling her feet on firm ground again! To know that whatever misfortune might come on the morrow, she was safe for that night at least! She could not drown, or be tortured by enemies; her only danger would come from snakes. She would take the precaution to explore her sleeping-place thoroughly before she lay down.

Weary as she was, she did not stop until she had gone farther into the island. The trees were denser here than they had been at Black Jack; it would be more difficult to land an autogiro, if by chance Susie should follow her. Nevertheless, she resolved to stay hidden as much as possible.

Away from the shore, she finally dropped to the ground and took off her wet shoes and stockings.

"Not that it will do me much good in the morning to start off dry," she thought bitterly. "But anyhow, I don't want to sleep in them." And then she removed her outer garments.

"Wouldn't supper taste good!" she said aloud, envying Susie that well-filled larder at the camp. But Linda knew that there was no danger of her starving so soon, after that big noon-day meal, and she put the thought of food from her mind. Water she could not forget so easily. After half an hour's thirst, she decided to risk a drink from the swamp. Had she but known that the water of the Okefenokee is not poisonous, she would have enjoyed her drink more. The "peat" gives it a queer taste, but it is harmless.

She was relieved, in her return to the water, to see that the alligator had gone – which way, she could not tell. Though she was desolately lonely in that vast abandoned wilderness, she did not care for the companionship of so ugly a beast!

When she returned to the spot which she had selected for her camp, she took her knife from its wet case and cut a few stout sticks from a tree. With these she would explore the ground before she lay down, and keep them at her side while she slept, as some sort of protection from snakes.

As with the water, however, Linda's fears regarding snakes proved unnecessary, for the report of a large number of these in the Okefenokee Swamp had been proved by hunters to have been exaggerated. As a matter of fact, Linda did not see one during her entire visit to the swamp.

She waited until the daylight had faded, and darkness completely enveloped the landscape before she lay down to rest. The stars were still visible here and there through the trees, and, as upon the occasion of her lonely flight to Paris, they somehow seemed friendly. After an hour or so, she slipped off to sleep.

Only once during that strange, desolate night did she awaken, and that was when something cold and wet suddenly touched her face. She started up fearfully, seizing a stick with one hand and her knife with the other, squinting her eyes for snakes. Her flash-light had of course been thrown away during her swim, so she could not immediately identify the enemy that had awakened her.

She laughed out loud when she finally saw what it was. She had rolled over against her shoes, which were still cold and clammy with water!

She went back to sleep again, and did not awaken until the sun was well up in the sky. She had no way of telling the exact time, for her watch refused to go after its bath in the swamp, but Linda judged from the sun that it must be nine o'clock at least. Her clothing was dry, at any rate, and her shoes only a little damp. But what a sight she was, she thought, after that long swim!

She went down to the water's edge to wash, and to drink the water that must serve as her breakfast, and looked carefully about her – into the sky, and on the water – for the sight of her enemies. For she had no doubt that as soon as the thieves returned, they would go in search of her, believing that she could not have gotten far away.

She was relieved to see nothing, no sign of human beings anywhere, and she paused to watch some wild birds fly past overhead. Everything was peaceful and quiet – like a Sunday morning in the country. It was hard to believe that wickedness existed in such a beautiful world.

Then, abruptly, she noticed the soft swish of water not far away from her, and she looked up quickly, expecting to see the alligator again. In that awful second, her worst fears were realized. A canoe, with two men aboard, was coming straight towards her. The thieves! They had sighted her – they were wildly waving their arms.

It was too late to hide!

Chapter VI

The Enemy in the Autogiro

Defeated, miserable, hopeless, Linda sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands, waiting for the dreaded approach of her enemies. Oh, the cruelty of fate, to deliver her to them again, after her superhuman effort to escape! Bitter tears rushed to her eyes, scalding her face, and she sat as one expecting death, listening to the rhythmic dip of the paddles, as the canoe came closer and closer.

She kept her face hidden until the sound ceased, informing her thereby that the craft had stopped at her side. Tensely she waited for the harsh snarl of her captor's voice. But to her incredulous amazement, she heard instead the soft, deep, well-bred tones of a Southerner!

"Can we be of any help to you, Miss?" inquired the speaker.

Linda looked up instantly into the kind eyes of two exceedingly attractive young men.

"Oh! Please!" she gasped, the tears still running from her eyes. "Yes, please!"

And then, for the first time in her life, Linda Carlton fainted.

When she came to, she was lying on the ground, with two strangers bending over her, one offering her water, and the other hot coffee from a thermos bottle. A warm glow of happiness surged over her as she realized that she was among real human beings – not animals, or criminals. Though not naturally impulsive, she longed to throw her arms about these boys and weep with gratitude. If they had been girls, she would not have hesitated a moment.

Instead, she sat up and smiled her sweetest smile, so that, bedraggled as she was, she was still beautiful. The boys, man-like, each urged his particular offering upon her.

"Put that coffee down, Hal!" commanded the tall, fair youth at her right. "A lady who has just fainted doesn't want coffee."

"I do, though," Linda assured him. "I want water, and coffee – and anything else you have to eat. I fainted from hunger as much as from anything else."

The boy called "Hal" looked pleased at her acceptance of his gift, and he hurried back to the canoe for some food.

"Are you alone?" asked the other, who remained at Linda's side. "And how do you happen to be here?"

"It's a long story," replied the girl, wondering just how much of it she had better tell. It was all so incredulous, that perhaps they wouldn't believe her if she did tell them.

"First have some food," suggested the boy who had gone to the canoe. "How long has it been since you ate?"

"Only yesterday noon – and I even had some chocolate about six o'clock. But after that I waded and swam from Black Jack Island to this place – whatever it is."

"This is 'Billy's Island,'" the boys informed her. "Named after 'Billy Bowlegs,' the Indian who once lived here… But, Great Guns!" exclaimed Hal, "that's five miles at least! Nobody ever tried to swim the Okefenokee Swamp before!"

"Well, it seemed like twenty-five," remarked Linda. "And I hope nobody ever has to try it again."

She did not go on with her story immediately, for she was too busy eating bananas – one right after another. Nothing had ever tasted so good! Meanwhile, the boys introduced themselves as Hal – short for Harold – Perry, and Jackson Carter, both Juniors at the University of Florida.

"We're both on the archery team at college," Jackson explained. "And we take a little trip into the Okefenokee each summer, to try out our bows and arrows on the wild game here. We camp each night on one of the islands."

"Then you know the Swamp pretty well," remarked Linda, with relief. They would be able to take her back to civilization.

"The southern end of it – yes," replied Hal.

"Now tell us who you are," urged Jackson Carter, regarding Linda with silent admiration. There was no doubt about it, she certainly was an attractive girl.

Linda hesitated a moment, and determined not to mention her first name. She was tired of all the publicity and disaster which her ocean flight had brought her. Besides, these boys might think she was just posing as Linda Carlton, the famous aviatrix, in order to impress them. She would tell them only her middle name, instead.

"I am Ann Carlton, from Ohio," she replied. "I was flying my new plane when I got lost over the swamp, and had to come down on the first dry land I saw, because my gas was running low, and I didn't know how far the water extended."

"Smashed your plane?" inquired Hal, evidently satisfied with the explanation.

"No. But unfortunately I fell among a gang of thieves, and they stole it, and tried to hold me prisoner on Black Jack Island. But yesterday I got away, as I told you."

Both boys gazed at Linda in admiration and wonder. What a plucky girl she must be!

"Thieves in the swamp!" repeated Hal. "Not Indians? – a lot of Indians used to live here, and they might have come back."

"No. White men – and one girl. Regular thieves, the kind that rob banks and jewelry stores."

"But what were they doing? Hiding from justice?"

"I don't think so," answered Linda. "Because I don't think anybody suspects them in particular. They have a regular camp on Black Jack Island, and they bring whatever they steal there, and transfer it by airplane to an island in the Atlantic Ocean, where it's picked up by another partner in a boat."

Jackson let out a whistle.

"Pretty slick, aren't they? But they'll get caught sometime."

"I sincerely hope so. Unfortunately, though, nobody could identify them as thieves, because they haven't been caught before."

"You could," remarked Hal.

"Yes, if I ever see them again. Do we have to pass Black Jack Island to get out of the swamp?"

"I'm afraid so – but we needn't go very close to it – it's some distance from the regular 'Gator Road' we always follow."

"'Gator Road'?" repeated Linda. "There aren't any roads in the swamp, are there?"

"They're water channels," Hal explained. "Short for alligator-roads."

Linda shuddered.

"I saw an alligator last night," she told them. "I hope we don't meet any more."

"You poor girl!" exclaimed Jackson. "It seems to me you've had most every dreadful experience anybody could have in the last twenty-four hours!"

"But they're over now," laughed Linda, wondering what the boys would say if she told them the real account of the kidnapping.

Even now Jackson Carter was looking at her strangely. She seemed like such a nice girl – but what sort of family could she have come from, that would allow her to roam around the country unchaperoned and alone? He himself was of an old-fashioned Southern family, who regarded such independence in young women as mere boldness. Yet Linda Carlton seemed anything but ill-bred, or bold.

"Aren't your family worried about you, Miss Carlton?" he inquired. "So far away – in an airplane?"

"They must be by now," she replied with a pang of distress. "I had promised to wire them every day – and it's been three nights now since I could. My aunt probably is afraid I have been killed."

"Your aunt?"

"Yes. My mother is dead, and my aunt has always taken care of me."

"But she lets you do pretty much as you please I take it. You northern girls certainly are different."

"Well, not exactly." Linda could not explain without telling the whole story of her life, so she decided to let the matter pass. "Hadn't we better be pushing on, if we expect to get out of the swamp before dark?"

"Yes," replied Hal. "But don't set your heart on that, Miss Carlton. I don't know whether we can or not. But we'll get past Black Jack Island, and at least as far as Soldiers' Camp Island."

"Soldiers' Camp Island?" repeated Linda.

"Yes. The story goes that some Civil War soldiers deserted, and hid there. I don't know how true it is, but it certainly is a good place to hide."

"Don't I know!" sighed Linda.

They climbed into the canoe, putting Linda on some blankets in the center, and started upon their journey. For the first time since her visit to the swamp, Linda was at last able to enjoy its beauty. The thick ferns, the cypress trees growing in abundance, the pines and the water-lilies! What a difference a boat could make! Yesterday she hated the rushes and the moss; today she found everything lovely.

Avoiding the island where the thieves were camped, the boys made a wide circle, and did not pass even in sight of it. With each mile of progress, Linda's spirits rose higher and higher, until finally she suggested that they sing. She just had to find some outlet for her joy and thanksgiving.

"It must be long after noon," remarked Jackson, as they finished a familiar college song. "Hadn't we better eat?"

"I see an island ahead – I think it's Soldiers' Camp," replied Hal. "Wouldn't it be nice to stop and make some coffee?"

"I'm hot enough without any fire or hot coffee," returned Jackson, wiping the perspiration from his face. "But I would like to stretch my legs."

"Let me do the cooking!" urged Linda, eagerly. "I'd love to prove some use to you, after all the trouble I've made."

"You haven't been any trouble!" protested Jackson, whose admiration for Linda had been growing by leaps and bounds, in spite of the fact that he could not wholly approve of her. For the past three hours he had been sitting in the stern of the canoe, gazing at her lovely profile, listening to the charm of her soft voice. Yet he knew he had better not allow himself to care for this girl; she was just the type his mother disapproved of, and with Jackson Carter, his mother's wishes were supreme.

They pulled up to the island and unloaded the canoe. There were all sorts of supplies – bacon, canned beans, fruit, and biscuits, as well as tea, coffee, sugar and canned milk. Even a little folding stove to set over a fire, and a coffee-pot.

"What a perfectly delightful spot!" exclaimed Linda, as she walked some distance inland. "Look at these lovely little houses! Why, I could almost live in them myself!"

What she referred to were the clumps, here and there, of cypress trees and overgrowing vines and evergreens, which, as a matter of fact, the hunters often used to camp in during their visits to the swamp. They were very attractive indeed, and would afford complete privacy, Linda thought, if she were obliged to spend another night in the Okefenokee.

The boys made a fire on the edge of the water, and Linda insisted that they go off for half an hour while she prepared the meal. She laughed and sang as she toasted the dry biscuits and the bacon, and boiled the coffee. What fun it was to picnic when you were among friends – even if they were very new ones!

When the boys came back, they each proudly displayed a wild goose, as proof of their ability with the bow and arrow. Then, like three happy, carefree school-children, they sat down to their meal, having forgotten all about the thieves for the time being.

The shock was all the more terrible, therefore, when they suddenly looked up into the sky and saw the autogiro overhead. Linda was the first to identify the plane, to guess what danger they were in. She stumbled to her feet, pulling Jackson with her, and just as she opened her mouth to tell them to flee with her into the depths of the island, a shot rang out from the autogiro, and a bullet whizzed past the little group, so innocently enjoying their picnic!

Chapter VII

The Smash-Up

The robbery which was so carefully planned by the gang of thieves who had kidnapped Linda Carlton, was highly successful. One of the largest banks in Jacksonville was entered just before closing time on the afternoon of June 23rd by four masked robbers, who calmly took thousands of dollars in cash and securities, and escaped to a waiting car, without being identified or caught.

By a secret route these men suddenly disappeared – whither, no one but Linda and Susie knew. By midnight they were back again in the swamp, and by dawn they had reached Black Jack Island.

Exhausted from their journey, three of the men dropped down on their cots and fell instantly asleep. The fourth – Susie's husband – stopped to look into his wife's tent.

Flashing the light inside, he peered through the doorway. There was Susie, sleeping peacefully on her cot. But the other bed was empty! "Susie!" he yelled in alarm. "Where's Linda?"

The girl awakened abruptly, and sat up, blinking her eyes at the unexpected light. For a moment she could not think what he meant. Then she remembered her prisoner.

"She's gone," she replied. "Beat it this afternoon."

"How?" he demanded roughly, coming over and shaking her by the arm. Susie winced, and pulled herself free.

"You leave me alone!" she warned him. "How do I know how Linda got away? Could I run after her?"

"No, but you might 'ave watched her!" snarled Slats. "Didn't I tell you to?"

"Watching wouldn't keep her here," retorted Susie.

"Is her Bug still there?" he inquired.

"Yeah. I hobbled over and took a look myself."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Then, worn out and disappointed, Slats started to swear.

Susie sat still, regarding him with contempt. How vulgar such language sounded, when you actually stopped and listened to it! She did not realize it at the time, but just the few hours which she had spent with Linda Carlton had given her a new view-point. Or rather, had brought back her training as a child, before she had "gone bad."

When the man's anger had spent itself in violent words, he began to wonder how on earth Linda could have escaped.

"No human being could get far in this here bog, without a boat or a plane!" he exclaimed. "She must be around here somewhere."

"Why don't you go look for her!" demanded Susie, with a sneer. She was beginning to be glad that Linda had gotten away.

Her husband turned on her savagely.

"Look a here, Susie, if you helped that kid to get away – !" He held up his fist threateningly. "I'll make you sorry! Give you a dose of the medicine I was saving for Linda!"

"What do you mean?" she demanded, trembling.

"This gun!" he replied.

"Well, I didn't," she hastened to assure him. "Linda slipped off when I wasn't watching… But do you mean you were going to shoot Linda?"

"Sure, you fool! That's what kidnappers always do. Bait the big fish till they get the cash, then kill the victim, and ship the corpse. If we sent Linda back alive, she'd have us in the Pen in no time. Our game'd be up."

Susie shivered; she had not realized that the men had any intention of going to that end. True, Slats had once killed a bank messenger, but Susie always excused him on the ground of self-defense. "Hard-boiled" as she was, the idea of shooting an innocent girl like Linda Carlton was too much for her to approve. She felt suddenly sick with the horror of it all.

Slats sat down for a moment on the empty cot, while he thought things over. Linda Carlton must not escape to tell the world of her experience and to give such accurate descriptions of the gang that they would have to be caught. Aside from the matter of the ransom which the kidnapping ought to bring them, they dared not let her go. The case called for immediate action.

"Can you fly that Bug, Susie?" he demanded, abruptly breaking the silence.

"I guess so," replied the girl. "They say they're easier than airplanes."

"O.K. Then we're off. Get dressed as quick as you can."

"But Slats," protested Susie, rubbing her injured ankle, "don't forget I've been hurt!"

"Rats!" was his unsympathetic reply. "Get busy. I'll be getting the gas, and some grub. We'll need coffee – and a lot of it."

Distasteful as the plan was, Susie could do nothing but obey. But she was feeling very miserable as she ate her breakfast, very sorry for the "poor, brave kid," as she called Linda, very resentful against her husband.

The latter helped her down to the autogiro and put her into the pilot's cock-pit, where she sat for some minutes examining the controls. The dawn had changed into daylight, and the swamp was beautiful in the early morning sunrise. But, like Linda Carlton, Susie did not even notice it.

Impatient at the delay, her husband demanded, "Got the idea how to run her?"

"Sure," she replied, listlessly. "Start her up and climb in… Where do you want to go!"

"Circle all around – flying low, so that we can spot the kid if she's here. If we don't see her in the water, we'll stop at some of the islands, and look there. She can't 'ave got out of this swamp."

"O.K.," agreed Susie.

Without much difficulty the girl ran the autogiro along the edge of the island until it rose into the air. It was easy enough to keep it flying; the test would come when she had to make a landing. But Susie decided never to worry about anything until the time came. Luck was usually with her; her only serious crash had been the one of two days previous, and, after all, there was a reason for that.

Slats, who spurned learning how to fly, because he considered his a master-mind, above such practical work, was, nevertheless, enjoying the ride. He congratulated himself upon his own cleverness in securing this new plane for the gang.

"Like her, Susie?" he shouted, through the speaking-tube.

The girl nodded, indifferently.

"You can have her!" he announced, proudly, as if he were giving her a costly present of his own purchasing.

Susie drew down the corners of her lips in scorn, but made no reply. Didn't he realize that she would never dare fly this autogiro where anyone could see her? That the police all over the country would be on the look-out for this very plane? She was understanding for the first time that money was not much use without freedom.

As she sat in the cock-pit, silently thinking things over, she made up her mind not to try to help Slats in his search. She would have to continue to guide the plane, of course, for she never for one moment forgot the pistol that her husband kept ready to enforce his orders with. But she would not attempt to spot Linda, nor would she inform him if she did happen by chance to see the girl. No; it would be better to let "the poor kid" die by natural causes in the swamp than for her to be killed by Slats in cold-blooded murder.

Over the trees and tropical plants of the swamp they continued to fly, until the sun rose directly overhead, and they knew that it was noon. All the while Slats kept his eyes glued to the ground, without any success. Not a sign of human life did he see. Movements in the swamp – yes – snakes and birds, and even an alligator – but no girl! Yet he felt sure that even if Linda were hiding, she would come out at the sound of the plane, for by this time she would realize that escape was impossible. Driven by the pangs of hunger, she would have to surrender to her fate. But noon passed, and they found no trace of her.

Perhaps she was dead by this time, the man thought bitterly – killed by a snake, or drowned in the treacherous water! He would not mind that, if he could only find her dead body. Without it, without the assurance that she was not still at large, he dared not seek a reward. What a lot of money he would be losing!