CHAPTER XXIII
MR. OLIVER OUTWITS HIS WATCHERS
A day or two after they had got back to the ranch Mr. Oliver asked theboys if they would like another trip, and as both of them preferred itto grubbing stumps they paddled off to the canoe with him the sameevening. A fresh breeze sprang up as the sun went down, and they had afast and rather wet sail. Daylight was breaking across the scatteredpines when the party left the sloop and walked up a trail within sightof a little lonely settlement.
As they approached it a harsh clanking and the tolling of a bell rosefrom behind the trees, and they had to wait while a locomotive and astring of freight cars jolted across the trail into a neighboring sidetrack. When the train had passed Mr. Oliver and his companions crossedthe rails and entered a desolate flag station, which consisted of aroughly boarded, iron-roofed shack and a big water tank. In front of itwas an open space strewn with fir stumps, and beyond the latter three orfour frame houses rose among the trees. The door of the shack was shut,and while they stood outside it the sound of an approaching train grewsteadily louder and a jet of steam blew noisily from the valve of thelocomotive waiting in the side track.
"A Seattle train," said Mr. Oliver. "They don't seem to be flagging herand she probably won't stop."
Frank stood looking about him with a curious stirring of his heart.There was a gaudy poster pasted up on the shack announcing cheap ticketsto Seattle, with a line or two about a circus and some attraction at anopera house. In the meanwhile the scream of a whistle came ringingacross the shadowy trees and the boy was troubled by the familiar sightsand sounds. The wet rails, the freight cars, and the brilliant posterreminded him of the cities he had turned his back upon some time ago.
Then, though the daylight was rapidly growing clearer, a big blazinglamp broke out from among the firs with a cloud of steam streamingbehind it, and a locomotive and a row of clanging cars swept through thedepot. The lights from the windows flashed into Frank's face, flickeredupon the shack and rows of stumps, and grew dim again, after which thedin receded and came throbbing back fainter and fainter. As he listenedto it, a sudden fierce longing seized the boy. He wanted to hear theclamor of the cities again, to see the big stores and the hurryingcrowds. Almost a year had elapsed since he had even seen a train, and ajourney of two or three hours would take him back to the stir and bustleof civilization away from the constant monotonous toil with ax and sawin the lonely bush.
He wondered what his people were doing in Boston. In the winter seasonthere were festivities and gayety there, and he had once enjoyed themwith his old companions who had most likely forgotten him. Some had goneinto business, two were at Harvard, and another had entered the army;but he stood, dressed in miry long boots and old well-mended garmentsstill damp with salt water, in a little desolate depot in thewilderness. He fancied that he was justified in feeling rather sorry forhimself.
Then with an effort he drove these thoughts away. After all, his placewas not in the cities. He had no money and there was nobody to give hima fair start in life, while he admitted that it was very doubtful thathe had any talent for business. He might, perhaps, become a clerk orsomething of the kind, but it once more occurred to him that he wasbetter off in the bush. Indeed, though he scarcely realized this, thebush had already made a striking change in him, and it is possible thathis eastern friends would have had trouble in recognizing him as thepale lad they had sent away to Minneapolis. His face was bronzed andresolute, he was taller, tougher, and broader around the chest, and hecould now toil all day at a task which would once have broken him downin a couple of hours. Then he started as he noticed that Mr. Oliver waslooking at him with a smile.
"You seem to be thinking rather hard," the rancher remarked.
"I was," Frank admitted hesitatingly. "It was the train that put theideas into my mind."
"I fancied it might be something of that description," said Mr. Oliver."She'd soon have taken you up to Seattle, and nowadays it's a very shortrun to Chicago, where you could get on to one of the Atlantic flyers. Isuppose you feel that you'd like to make the journey?"
"I did--for a minute or two," Frank confessed with an embarrassed smile."Then, of course, I realized that it was impossible."
Somewhat to his astonishment, Mr. Oliver laid a hand upon his shoulder.
"The wish was very natural, but stay where you are, my lad. There's moreroom out here in the Western bush, and you're making progress. This isgoing to be a great country, and you won't be sorry you came out in afew more years."
"I'm not sorry now," Frank answered sturdily, with a flush in his face.
Mr. Oliver turned away as the agent opened the door of his shack, andthey went into the little, untidy office.
"I want to send a message south," said Mr. Oliver, writing something ona form. "It's a code address. I suppose I could get an answer in an houror so?"
"Oh, yes," said the agent. "They'll be beginning to move about inSeattle now, and if the man's in his office there'll be no delay. In themeanwhile they would give you a good breakfast at the hotel."
Mr. Oliver thanked him, and as they left the depot two men whom they hadnot noticed hitherto met them. Mr. Oliver glanced at them sharply, buthe did not speak, and a few minutes later they sat down to an excellentmeal in the primitive wooden hotel. When they had finished theproprietor strolled in and sat down for a chat with them.
"Is there much going on about the place?" Mr. Oliver asked, offering hima cigar.
"Yes," said the hotelkeeper, accepting the proffered cigar withalacrity, "we've struck quite a boom. There's a man clearing a lot ofground for a fruit ranch and putting up a smart frame house. Thenthey're cutting a couple of new trails. The boys are making good wagesand they're all of them busy."
"I saw two men just now who didn't seem to have much to do," said Mr.Oliver carelessly, and Harry gave his companion a nudge with his elbow.
"They don't belong here," was the answer. "One of them lives down thebeach and does some fishing with his boat. The other man came in fromthe South yesterday on the cars, and I don't know what he's after. Itold him I could put him on to a job and he said he didn't want it."
"As they're together, he's probably going in for fishing with the firstone," Mr. Oliver suggested.
The hotelkeeper pursed his lips and looked as if he were solving a hardproblem.
"It's a puzzle to me how Larry makes a living. It's only now and then hesends a little fish away, and I can't see what he'd do with a partner."Then he changed the subject. "You're thinking of buying land?"
"No," said Mr. Oliver, "I sailed over in my boat to dispatch a wire. Itwas much easier than riding a long way to the nearest office now thatthe trails are soft."
"They're bad, sure," assented his companion, and they continued todiscuss ranching until Mr. Oliver finally rose and said he would walkacross to the depot. The boys followed him a few paces behind. Harryaddressed his companion with a look of admiration for his father.
"I guess you noticed how dad found out about those fellows withoutletting the man think he was curious?" he said.
Frank said that he had noticed it and added:
"I wonder what the fellow came up from the South for?"
"That," said Harry significantly, "is a point I expect dad's doing somehard thinking on just now."
They walked into the agent's office and sat down to wait as he told themthat he had as yet received no answer to the telegram. The door nearwhich Frank sat stood partly open, and he noticed that the two men werelounging close outside it. He quietly touched Mr. Oliver's arm,indicating them with a glance. The rancher knitted his brows andpresently spoke to the agent.
"There are two men who seem to be waiting for you outside," he said.
The agent walked across to the door.
"Back again, Larry!" he said impatiently. "What's the matter now?"
"When's that fish box of mine coming along?" the man inquired.
"I don't know," said the agent. "Next freight, most likely, if it's
beendelivered to us at the other end."
"Won't you wire up the line about it?"
"No," said the agent. "If you'll put up the stamps I'll wire to the fishstore you billed it to."
The man looked indignant. "I tell you it's in the railroad's hands. Doyou think I've nothing better to do than hang about this depot everytime a freight comes through?" He paused a moment with his eyes on theground, then went on: "Anyway, now I'm on the spot I may as well waitfor the next one. She should be along in about an hour. Won't you let mein?"
The telegraph instrument began to click just then and the agent turnedtoward him sharply.
"There's no room. You can wait at the hotel."
"Perhaps the message is about his box," broke in the other man.
Frank glanced around at them. They were dressed like most of the bushchoppers in rough working clothes and there was nothing particularlynoticeable in their appearance, but he fancied that they had some reasonfor wishing to get into the office.
"No, sir," said the agent. "They don't wire about the delivery of anempty box on this road. Get out! I want to shut the door."
Frank noticed that one of the loungers had thrust his foot against thepost, but the agent, seeming to lose his temper, slammed the door on it.The man withdrew it with an exclamation, and the agent turned toward theinstrument which was now clicking rapidly. He tapped an answeringsignal, and then wrote upon a strip of paper which he handed Mr. Oliver.The latter read the message and handed it to the boys.
"_First route unsatisfactory second preferred_," it ran. "_Meet me nine to-night Everett if possible._"
Frank was puzzled, but he fancied that Harry understood the messagebetter than he did.
"Thanks," said Mr. Oliver, addressing the agent. "Your two friendsoutside seemed uncommonly anxious about that box."
"That's a fact," said the agent. "Larry was worrying me about it beforeit was light. I don't know the fellow who came along with him, but itstruck me that he was listening to the instrument as if he understoodit, though he couldn't have heard more than the depot call. Of course,"he added thoughtfully, "'most any one who had worked on a railroad wouldknow the code, but I can't figure why they should make so much fussabout a box that's scarcely worth a dollar."
"It's curious," Mr. Oliver answered indifferently. "You might lend meyour train schedule."
The agent gave him the company's time bill, which also included thecoast steamboat sailings, and Mr. Oliver walked back with the boys tothe hotel. There was nobody in the general room when they reached it,and they sat down near the stove.
"Now," he began, "as we have taken you into our confidence and it'sprobable that you can help, you may as well understand the situationthoroughly. The message was, of course, from Barclay, though it bears aclerk's name, and it means that Porteous has opened the letter you lefthim. I fancy he'll regret it, but that is by the way. Barclay receivedthe second letter untampered with, and the rest is plain enough. Theonly question is how I'm to keep the appointment without putting thefellows at the depot on my track."
"You believe they're in league with the smugglers?" Frank inquired.
Mr. Oliver smiled. "It seems very likely. Here's a man who keeps a boat,and, as you have heard, folks wonder how he makes a living by hisfishing. If the boat's moderately fast you can imagine how useful hewould be to the smugglers by taking messages from place to place andcommunicating with the schooner. Then we have another man who seems ableto read the telegraph turning up and trying to hear Barclay's message."
"But how could they have learned that you expected it?" Frank asked.
"I'm not sure. Porteous may have suspected something and sent a mountedman off to wire one of the gang. Besides, the fellow who has the boatmay have been across with her. It wouldn't be hard to surmise that Iwould wire from here, though they may have had a man watching thenearest office I could have reached by land on horseback." He paused amoment and looked at the boys gravely. "All this points to the fact thatwe're up against a big and remarkably well-organized gang."
Frank had no doubt that Mr. Oliver was right, but he asked a question:
"Why did Barclay choose Everett when it's so far from the field of theiroperations?"
"That's exactly why he fixed on it. There would be less probability ofsomebody connected with the gang recognizing us, and I've met him therealready. The fact that he doesn't mention any particular hotel shouldhave told you that; but what we have to consider is how I'm to get therewithout these fellows following me. It's important that I should be backat the ranch as soon as possible, and you and Harry must manage toarrive there the first thing to-morrow."
Frank understood the necessity for this. The nights were long, the bushwas lonely, and Mr. Oliver's wooden house and barns, which had cost hima good deal of money, would readily burn, while now, when there was onlyJake to take care of them, they would be more or less at the smugglers'mercy. Then Harry, who in the meanwhile, had been examining theschedule, looked up.
"I've an idea," he said. "There's a train goes south in the afternoon,and a steamboat which calls at Everett goes up the Sound this evening.Well, suppose we order dinner here and start for Bannington's a littlebefore the cars come in. The steamboat would stop to pick up there ifshe's signaled, and with this breeze we should get down shortly beforeshe passes."
Mr. Oliver turned to Frank.
"How does that strike you?" he asked.
"The trouble is that the other men would follow us in their boat," theboy objected. Then a light dawned upon him as he saw the twinkle in Mr.Oliver's eyes. "You mean that's what Harry intended them to do?"
"Exactly!" Harry broke in with a grin. "They raise brainy folks inBoston, and you're getting hold. Those fellows will get after us as soonas they can hoist sail on their boat and we'll give them a run for it.The point is that while they're following us dad will be on the cars."
"But how is he going to elude them?"
"That," Harry admitted sagely, "wants some thinking out."
They made their plans in the next half-hour, and some time after dinnerwas over walked toward the beach. Nobody seemed to be following them,though they could not be sure of this since the trail wound aboutthrough the bush, but when they reached the canoe another boat whichthey had not noticed on arriving lay moored a few hundred yards away.They were obliged to carry the canoe down some distance over very roughstones, and on reaching the water's edge Mr. Oliver took a quick glanceabout him.
"I'm afraid one plan's spoiled," he said.
The boys glanced back toward the trail and Frank saw two figures saunterout on to the beach. Harry frowned as he glanced at them.
"You can't slip back into the bush without their seeing you," he warned.
"No," said Mr. Oliver. "Still, I think there's a means of getting overthe difficulty. Shove the canoe in. They'll have to carry their boatdown, and our boat's lying nearer the head yonder than theirs is."
Frank did not understand how the rancher intended to evade his pursuersand fancied that Harry was not much wiser. They had soon launched thecanoe, however, and were paddling off to the sloop, running the mainsailup in haste. Then the boys set the jib as she drew out from the beach,and Frank noticed that the other men were hoisting sail upon their boatas fast as they could manage it. The sloop, however, was already somedistance away from them, and it was not long before she picked up afreshening breeze. Lying well over to it she gathered speed, and closeto lee of her Frank saw a low, rocky head, down the face of whichstraggled stunted pines and underbrush. He fancied that she would behidden from their pursuers when she had sailed around the end of it, buton glancing back as they approached the corner he saw that the other menhad started after them. They were three or four minutes behind, but hehad no idea yet how Mr. Oliver meant to elude them. He was stillwondering about it when the rancher spoke to him.
"Get hold of the canoe painter," he ordered. "The moment we're aroundthe corner we'll haul her up and you'll put me ashore. You'll have to besmart abou
t it, because you must be back on board before the other boatrounds the head."
Harry had already taken the helm, and the sloop was sailing very fast,with the canoe lurching and splashing over the short seas astern of her.They broke in a broad fringe of foam upon the stony beach thirty orforty yards to lee, and as the boat swept on the bay behind closed inand the seaward face of the cliff opened out ahead. Frank could stillsee the boat astern, but as he stood in the well with his hands clenchedupon a rope he knew that in another moment the rocks would shut her out.Then, sure enough, she suddenly vanished, and shortly afterward he heardMr. Oliver's voice.
"Haul!" he shouted.
Harry flung loose the mainsheet, but the boat did not quicken her speedimmediately, and Frank found it desperately hard to drag up the canoe,though Mr. Oliver had seized the rope behind him. Haste was, however,necessary, if the rancher was to slip back to the depot unsuspected. Atlast the canoe ran alongside with a bang and Mr. Oliver dropped onboard, while Frank nearly upset her as he followed him. Each of themseized a paddle and the boy had a momentary glimpse of the sloop rollingwith her slackened mainsail thrashing to and fro, while Harry struggledto haul the jib to weather. After that he looked ahead and swung hispaddle, and as the breeze was blowing on to the beach a few quickstrokes drove them in through the splashing surf. She struck the stonesviolently, for they had no time to be careful, and Mr. Oliver jumpedashore, running into the water to thrust her out. Frank contrived totwist her around, though it taxed all his strength, after which hehazarded a single glance behind him. Mr. Oliver had disappeared amongthe several masses of fallen rock and clumps of small growth which werescattered about the slope.
So far the plan had succeeded, but Frank had still to reach the sloop,which was a different matter from paddling ashore. There was a freshbreeze ahead of him and a little splashing sea heaved up the canoe'sbows and checked her speed. In addition to this, it is a ratherdifficult thing to keep a canoe on a straight course with a single-endedpaddle, which can only be dipped on the one side, and in order to do soone must give the blade a back twist, which retards the craft unless itis skillfully managed. Frank, who had hitherto practiced it only insmooth water, found that the bows would blow around in spite of him. Hegrew hot and breathless, and though he set his lips and strung up hismuscles he made very little progress.
"Paddle!" shouted Harry, who had been watching his maneuvers. "Shove herthrough it! Can't you get a move on? I can't run in any nearer withoutgetting her ashore."
Frank made another desperate attempt, but a splashing sea broke aboutthe bows, driving the canoe off her course again, and while he savagelyswung the paddle Harry surveyed him contemptuously.
"Culcha!" he jeered. "Guess you loaded that up in Boston, but what youwant is sand. Can't you get a bit of a hustle on? You're sure bornplayed-out back East."
Frank felt a little more blood surge into his hot face. This was morethan he felt inclined to stand from any Westerner of his own weight, butit was clear that he could not rebuke his reviler fittingly until hereached the sloop and the veins swelled up on his forehead as hefuriously plied the paddle. Once more a sea broke about the bows andthis time part of it splashed in, while as he tried the back-featherstroke the canoe lurched and began to swing around in spite of hisredoubled efforts. Harry spread out one hand resignedly.
"Well," he said, "it's our own fault for letting you into the canoe. Thetrouble was you couldn't be trusted alone with the sloop either. Pshaw!We've no use for folks of your kind in this country."
This was intolerable, because part of it was true, and Frank felt hisheart thumping painfully. But he made a last effort, and panting,straining, taxing every muscle to the utmost, he drove the canoe ahead,and eventually managed to grasp the sloop's lee rail. He could notspeak, and as he breathlessly crawled on board Harry snatched the ropefrom him and made it fast.
"Trim that jibsheet over," he commanded.
Frank obeyed him and when they hauled on the mainsheet the sloop oncemore gathered speed, while Frank glancing astern saw a strip of slantedsail appear around the corner of the head. Then he glanced ashore, andthough he saw no sign of Mr. Oliver the slope to the beach was notremarkably steep and he fancied that the rancher would not have muchtrouble in ascending it.