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Motor Boat Boys' River Chase

<h2>CHAPTER VIII JACK PLAYS SCOUT</h2> “What’s doing, Jack?” asked George, carefully, as soon as the whole six of them were well away from the vicinity of the other camp, and where they could safely converse, if only every one spoke in a whisper. “We ought to talk things over a bit, and arrange what we want to do about this matter,” Jack went on to say. “But ain’t we goin’ to jump on that pair of scamps, and make ’em our prisoners?” complained Buster; and to hear his ferocious way of talking one might easily imagine that the fat boy was a fighter from the word go, when as a rule Buster would walk a mile to escape a rumpus, for he was by nature very peaceable. “Wait and see what Jack’s got up his sleeve, you fire-eater!” remarked Josh, scornfully. “We know where they’ve gone and buried all the loot, anyhow,” remarked George, as though that fact gave him particular satisfaction. [92] “And we c’n dig the same up at our convenience,” added Herb. “That is, if they don’t change their minds before morning comes, and get that box up again,” observed Jack, dryly. At that there were several little grunts and exclamations, such as would indicate that the others did not relish being tantalized in such a fashion having the treasure-trove under their thumbs, only to see it snatched away again. “Say, we oughtn’t to let that chance slip us, Jack!” urged Josh. “Them’s my sentiments, too!” echoed George. “Count me in,” Herb remarked, quietly. “Same here, arrah, by the token!” Andy ventured. “There, Jack,” spoke up Buster, exultantly, “everybody is of the same mind, that we just ought to do something or other right away, so’s to get that stuff in our possession. It wouldn’t matter so much if the thieves did get away, if only we could go sailing up to Lawrence, call the broken-hearted directors of the looted bank together, and then say: ‘Here, gentlemen, are your lost securities. Rest in peace! E pluribus unum!’ Now Jack, don’t say a word against it, but think up some way that we can get hold of that box.” [93] “Oh! I’ve got all that figured out already, Buster,” remarked the other, coolly. “Then tell us who’s going to creep up and dig for that box while the two robbers are sitting beside the fire, playing cards, because that’s what they started to do when they went back.” “And ‘Old Maid’ it was, as sure as you live,” remarked George, as if astonished. “Did you ever hear of two ferocious pirates playing such a harmless game as that before? I never did, for a fact, boys. They keep me guessing right along. That boy looks too green to be the rascal they say he is; but I guess he puts it all on to fool respectable folks. It helps him in gaining their confidence.” George could figure things out in fine style once he got going. The others, however, were not in any mood just then to try and decide what sort of a fellow that rather innocent young chap might turn out to be. They were more deeply interested in finding out what could be done about securing that hidden package in the box. Already, no doubt, Buster, for instance, was seeing pictures of all manner of treasure snugly reposing in the box; and he could also imagine how his manly chest would swell with importance when, with his mates, of course, he entered the[94] stricken town of Lawrence, and astonished the directors of the bank by returning their lost securities and money. And the others were possibly in the same boat, for they had active imaginations, one and all. Jack had said the matter was already arranged in his mind; and if he would only hurry up and take them into his confidence, they would feel greatly obliged. But then Jack did not mean to hold back just to aggravate his companions; that would have been too small a thing for him to attempt. He had only waited to hear what each one thought of the scheme, and then he went on to say something. “Now you can see for yourselves,” he began, “that it would be useless trying to take the whole bunch over there, and scratch that box up. One can do the business to a dot, and as I’m accustomed to scouting more than any of the rest, I hope you won’t try to raise any objections if I say I’ll do the job myself.” He waited to hear what they thought before making the first move in the direction of carrying his plan out. But then he might have known that not one objection would be raised against his scheme, for they had the fullest confidence[95] in whatever he proposed at any and all times. The silence that followed was doubtless intended for consent; but Jack chose to consider it otherwise. He wanted an expression from each of his chums. “George, how about it?” he asked. “Why, I haven’t the slightest objection,” replied that worthy, readily enough. “Josh, how about you?” “Gosh! only too willing,” came the answer. And Jack put it up to each of the others, until every one had signified his readiness to accept the conditions. “All right, then,” said Jack, “that settles it for me. And now, watch me get busy, fellows.” He once more started into the brush. All this conversation had been carried on, of course, in undertones. From time to time they could hear the voices of the other pair raised above the ordinary not far away; or it might be a laugh came floating back to where the six boys crouched, quivering in every nerve with intense excitement. Why, Jack thought, even the laugh of Slim Jim, the cracksman, was very deceptive, it sounded so boyish and natural; just as though he did not have a care or a worry in all the[96] world. He must be a pretty clever young chap if he could pretend to be such an innocent, when really he was such a desperate rascal—so that paper had stated. Having quitted the company of his friends, Jack began to advance in the direction of the other camp. He needed no better guide than the glow of the fire they had burning over there on the shore; though very careful as he crept through the bushes to take a little different track than before, because he believed it would be apt to bring him closer to the bush behind which that pretended “grave” that was in reality a cache for stolen wealth, had been so roughly dug. Once, as he raised himself to glance around, he found it possible to see beyond the camp fire, to the edge of the river, something that none of them had been able to do hitherto; and what should meet his eyes but a very jaunty gasoline launch, of a type that indicated more or less speed, since it was of narrow beam, and would doubtless have quite taken the eye of George Rollins. Of course Jack chuckled a little when he saw the very significant fact that the boat was painted snow white, and had a nice red line along[97] the gunwale that gave the craft a rather distinguished look. Again into his mind came the description which he had read out aloud from the fragment of paper, concerning the boat in which it was positive the robbers of the Lawrence bank had fled down the river. A white launch, nobby in appearance, and decorated with a red line. Why, what could be plainer than that? White launches were not so very common on that part of the Mississippi; and Jack could not remember ever having set eyes on one before that was marked with red as this one appeared to be. He kept creeping along, making no more noise than an Indian warrior might; or perhaps one might say, a snake that can glide swiftly, yet with hardly the faintest rustle of the dead leaves. If he did make an occasional little slip, they were not on the alert, as red braves might have been. Doubtless they had not the remotest suspicion that such a thing as peril threatened, or that an enemy was within miles of the island retreat to which they had come to hide, and make preparations for deceiving the posse of the sheriff, should they chance to meet later on the river. No doubt the other five boys had climbed[98] trees or done something else so that they would be in a position to see him when he reached that particular bush, back of which the hole had been dug. They would not be human if they were going to allow this chance to witness the unearthing of the treasure pass without an effort to become spectators. Jack found that the two beside the fire were making merry. He eyed them closely, and then shook his head, thinking that perhaps they might appear like desperate rogues to an expert sheriff, accustomed to dealing with rascals of every kind; but for his part he rather thought the boy was a spoiled son of a rich man, and Jenks some humble mechanic out cruising with the other. But of course, not being well posted in criminal matters, how could he, a mere tyro, be expected to be able to judge what people were, just because they laughed in such a care-free way. Slim Jim they said feared nothing on earth; slender and young as he was, he had laughed more than one sheriff to scorn; and snapped his fingers when traps were sprung only to find that he was missing. Now Jack was drawing closer and closer to that bush. He had marked it well on the previous occasion, so that there could be no such thing as mistaking it. Yes, he recognized[99] every twig almost, so closely had he made a mental photograph of the bush when the two were planting their “swag” back of it, and talking about making it appear as though it were a grave. If they just kept up that riotous game of “Old Maid” for ten minutes longer, Jack felt positive that he could have accomplished his errand, and left the mound nicely smoothed over as he found it. Jack guessed that they would hardly feel so merry when they discovered that the treasure-trove had been opened, while they were not thirty feet away, and the box containing the stolen securities and the bank bills carried off; or if they did laugh it would be on the “other side of their mouths,” as Buster might have expressed it in his humorous way. Now he was doing even better, for he had to pass a little patch where the cover was rather slim and in order to successfully negotiate it he was compelled to flatten himself very much on the order of a flapjack or a pancake. But then, they seemed to have no eyes for anything except the cards they were handling. Two more unsuspicious rascals it would be indeed difficult to find; at least that was Jack’s idea. [100] There was a piece of great good luck, for his hand had actually fallen upon the identical stick with the sharp point which Jenks had used so successfully when he was digging the hole in which to bury the treasure box. Of course Jack picked this up, for he believed he could make good use of it in his line of business just about that time. And now he had gained the bush, so that his hand actually rested on the little mound of fresh earth. It gave Jack something of thrill to realize that he was so very close to all that amount of loot which these two scamps had taken from the poor depositors of the Lawrence bank; for if the institution failed the loss would fall partly on poor people. But he lost no time in getting to work with that odd spade, fashioned from a stick. When he found that he had loosened the top earth, he started to dragging it away with his hands, boy fashion; using the palms as scoops. So he quickly got down to where he could touch the flat top of the little box; and then burrowing alongside, he managed presently to unheave the same, dragging it out of the cavity. Then Jack set to work to place several stones that he had noted close by, in place of the box, so that the mound would still be as high as ever[101] and look as it though it still contained the chest. Once in every little while as he did this work, Jack would glance through the lower part of the bush in order to make sure that the two card players were still as much interested in their innocent game of “Old Maid” as before. But really he had little need to do this, because their loud laughter told the fact as plainly as anything. Then followed the most difficult task of creeping back over the route he had taken to reach the place. It had been hard enough when he could watch those whom he looked on as enemies; but as now he had to go backwards part of the time, so as to know when to stop moving, and lie still, when he thought one of them glanced that way, it became doubly difficult. But Jack had not been making an idle boast when he claimed to be a much better scout than any one of his five companions. Circumstances had allowed him in the past to have a certain amount of experience in this line, such as none of his boatmates could claim; and that was how Jack made such a success of his venture. Now he had passed the crisis in his retreat and was able to move along faster, even getting[102] to his feet, and in a couching attitude leaving the hostile camp behind. When he reached the spot where the dull-colored khaki tent stood under the tree he found his five chums awaiting him; and every one of them was bubbling over with both a desire to squeeze Jack’s hand, while telling him in whispers what he thought of such clever work and at the same time filled with a burning curiosity to know if the securities and the stolen money could all be in that humble little box. <hr class="chap" /> [103] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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