CHAPTER XVIII
IT IS NOW CLAY'S TURN
"Do you think we can raise her?" asked Case.
"We can if she has any bottom left," declared Clay. "If they only cuta few holes in her and sunk her that way, we can get her out."
"Aw, what's the good of taking up time with the old wreck!" demandedAlex, who had listened to the conversation. "It isn't our boat,anyway."
"But the _Cartier_ is a splendid launch, and worth a lot of money,"Clay suggested, "and we might pay the expenses of the trip by gettingher out for the Fontenelles. It won't do any harm to try."
"All right!" Alex cried. "Just remember I'm the champion long distancediver, when you get ready to go down and look her over."
After breakfast the _Rambler_ was taken still farther upstream, as farup, in fact, as the depth of the water would permit.
"There!" Captain Joe observed, pointing to a bend just above the prowof the boat. "This is the strange thing that I called your attentionto. The river widens here in the most mysterious manner."
"It may be just back water," Clay ventured.
"No sir!" answered the captain. "There is no back water here. See howsteadily the current runs? And there's no creek running in, either."
"Then there must be a subterranean stream running--"
Clay checked himself with the sentence half finished.
"Suppose," he mused, "just suppose, there should be a subterraneanstream running in from under the hills--let us say from the north.That would be a channel, wouldn't it? And it might be a lost channelat that! Why didn't I think of that before."
The boy was so full of the thought, so enthusiastic over the thing itmight mean, that he concluded to make a quiet investigation on his ownhook, saying nothing to the others regarding the matter.
"What was it you said about some underground stream?" asked CaptainJoe. "You started in to say something about it and then stoppedabruptly."
"Oh, it just occurred to me that there might be an underground riversomewhere around here, but I guess that's just a dream. There couldn'tbe any river, you see, for the ground is rocky, and there seems to beno place for an underground stream to get its supply."
"No," the old captain agreed, "there can't be any underground streamthat's a sure thing. If there are caverns they are dry."
Clay chuckled to himself, and went into the cabin after Alex.
"Come on, Redhead!" he cried catching the boy by the arm. "We are nowgoing ashore to dig up the lost channel."
"That's a nice pleasant little job, too!" Alex declared.
"Well, come on," Clay insisted. "We'll go over and make a start,anyway. We may be able to find out if the outlaws are really here."
Explaining to Captain Joe and the others that they were going only ashort distance from the shore, the boys launched the canoe and weresoon on the sloping shore of the peninsula. Once across they hid theircanoe in a thicket which overhung the stream and disappeared in theinterior.
"Now, look here," Clay said as he stopped and sat deliberately down inthe shade of a great tree, "I've got an idea."
Alex stared hard in pretended wonder and amazement.
"Where did you get it?" he asked.
"Brain cell opened and gave it to me," Clay answered.
"Well, come across with it," Alex urged.
"Captain Joe wants to know where the water comes from to make the westriver so large at its mouth," Clay went on. "I started in to tell himthat there might be a subterranean stream somewhere hereabouts, but Ithought he would laugh at me and so kept my mouth shut."
Alex sprang to his feet and swung round and round on his heels,chuckling and shaking hands with himself.
"That's the idea!" he cried. "That's just the idea! There is asubterranean stream here somewhere! Look at the way the rocks arepiled up, and look at the long slope from the top of the ridges to thelevel of the river. There are catch basins here somewhere, and waterpouring into the river that no one knows anything about."
"Now go a little farther," Clay suggested. "Figure that at some time,say two or three hundred years ago, this subterranean channel lay opento the sun. Now what do you make of it?"
"Holy smoke!" almost shouted Alex. "I make a lost channel!"
"There you are!" Clay began, "and all we've got to do is to just lookaround and find it. We've got plenty of time."
"That will be some cheerful job, too," Alex commented. "We've only gotabout forty thousand square miles of territory to look over."
"I think," Clay said, "that we have the idea, and that is the mainthing. The rest is only a matter of detail."
As the boys sat under the tree, Alex having dropped down to the turfagain, a rustling of bushes was heard to the east and they turned inthat direction, scanning the thicket closely. Then Alex seized Clay bythe arm and pointed away through the underbrush.
"Did you ever see that figure before?" he asked.
"Looks to me to be about the size of Max," Clay answered. "I wonder ifhe is watching us, or whether he is only looking in the direction ofthe _Rambler_. Anyway, we'd better move."
The boys shifted their position some yards to the north and croucheddown again. The bushes showed motion once more, and they saw thefigure they had observed moving toward the bank of the west river.
"He never saw us!" cried Alex. "He is sneaking down on the _Rambler_."
"Yes," Clay replied, "and there are two or three just behind him."
"I had an idea," Alex chuckled, "that things would begin to liven upas soon as we got into this country. This will please Captain Joe!"
"Captain Joe," Clay replied, "seems inclined to take things ratherseriously. The chances are that he is wondering now, night and day,how four rattleheaded boys ever got so far over the world withoutbeing murdered or sent to the penitentiary. Still, he isn't alwayspassing out advice."
From their new shelter, the boys now saw Max and three men pass to thewest and stand under a screen of boughs looking down toward the_Rambler_.
"The war is on, I guess," Clay said. "Those fellows were here waitingfor us to come back. Did it ever occur to you that they know about ourhaving that mysterious map?"
"Now you've said something," Alex exclaimed. "That map was intendedfor those opposing the Fontenelles. It was given to us by mistake, andthe people who should have had it know that we've got it. That's whythey're watching us so. Wonder we never thought of that before."
"It seems to me that you've struck it right," Clay answered. "They'vebeen waiting here all this time for us to come back it seems."
"Then I should think they'd keep out of sight until we get busylooking for the channel. They surely won't want to drive us awaybefore we demonstrate what we know about it."
"I presume they think they are keeping out of sight," Clay decided.
"Well, they're not keeping very close watch, for they don't seem toknow that we're on shore."
"Don't be too sure of that," Clay answered. "They may be watching usthis minute. Perhaps we'd better move."
As the boys spoke, Max and his three companions started at a swiftpace up the bank of the stream keeping always out of view of the boat.They passed the place where the boys lay in hiding and for a momentthe lads heard them pushing through the underbrush.
"They've probably gone to their tent now," Alex suggested, "and I'mgoing to follow on and see if I can locate them."
"All right," Clay said, "only be careful. I'll go back to the boat andtell the boys what's going on. Be sure you don't get captured, now,"he added as Alex turned to the thicket to the north.
"No danger of that," the boy grinned and the next moment he was out ofsight, pushing through the thicket in the direction taken by Max.
Clay stood for an instant longer where the boy had left him and thenmoved in the direction of the river.
But his progress toward the stream came to an abrupt termination in aminute. He tripped over what he at first believed to be a running vineand fell to the ground. Then, as he lifted himself to a sittingpositio
n, he saw the obstacle over which he had fallen was a rope andthat it was held in the hands of two evil looking men.
The men, bearded and dirty, broke into a laugh over Clay's look ofamazement. They sprang toward him and in a moment he was relieved ofhis weapons. The boy sat perfectly still, for the attack had come sosuddenly that he could hardly comprehend the situation.
"Ain't it the cute little child?" guffawed one of the men, slappinghis knees and bending down to look the boy in the face.
"He's all of that," replied the other. "This is the little boy that'scome out here to find a hidden channel that no one else can find. Heused to be a real cute little newsboy in Chicago, and directly he'llwish he was back selling newspapers on Clark street!
"Are these all the poppers you have, kid?" he asked pointing to therevolvers which had been taken from the boy. "You might injureyourself by carrying them."
Clay glanced at the fellow steadily. He had now in a measure recoveredhis equilibrium. His impulse was to smash a blow into the grinningface bent over him.
He didn't like the black, matted beard. He objected to the greasy,frayed jacket. The man's snaky, near-set eyes offended him. More thanonce he drew back a clenched fist to strike the evil face.
"It seems to me," the boy said, restraining himself with a greateffort, "that I walked right into a den and found the snakes at home."
"Yes, little one," the man replied, "We sort of dipped you up in abottle. I bet my chum, here, a dollar that he wouldn't get you thefirst time he tried. I lose, so you'd better pass out the dough andI'll pay up. I always pay my sporting debts."
"Perhaps you'd better take the whole roll," Clay said, producing asmall handful of change and passing it over. "You'll get it in time,anyway."
The man took the money, counted it slowly with clumsy fingers andthrust it into a pocket.
"As long as you have money, you know," Clay said sneeringly, "youwon't have to be taking pennies away from children or stealing fromblind men. You're quite welcome to what I have."
"You just cut that stuff quick," snarled the man rising to his feet,his face blotching red. "Cut that quick!"
He might have struck the boy only his companion drew him away.
"Keep back, you fool," the cooler man said, "Do you want him to bringall the others here with his yelping? Why, we can't even shoot himtill sundown, so we'd better gag him to keep him from squealing."
"You needn't worry about me squealing," Clay said. "I learned how tokeep my mouth shut when you ruffians were serving your last sentencein the penitentiary."
One of the men drew out a knife and flashed it angrily before theboy's face.
"Keep a civil tongue in your head," he said, "and you, Ben, chase upto the north and get the kid that followed Max. We'll tie 'em uptogether."
Clay was now drawn to his feet and his hands tied tightly behind hisback. In this condition, he was marched swiftly through the brush,vines and boughs striking his unprotected face. He paid littleattention, however, to his physical discomforts. He was listening forsome indication of the capture of Alex.