CHAPTER XVI--A SURPRISE
When the last sandwich had been eaten, and the last crumb of cakedisposed of, the picnic party leaned lazily against the moss-coveredtrunk of a fallen tree to discuss the events of the morning.
Jose was the subject of the talk. All were inclined to believe, now,that they had been deceived by the strong resemblance between the youngSpaniard and the mischievous person who had mystified them in the woodsthat morning. It seemed impossible that Jose was a thief, or that hecould have been guilty of such trifling trickery as the individual inthe robber's clothes. Jose, quiet and reserved though he was, had becomea favorite with the young people.
"It is strange," said Ruth. "He must have the nameless charm, becausethere is not one of us who does not like him. As for me, I feel sorryfor him. And why, I'd like to know?"
"It's his mournful black eye, my dear young lady," replied Jimmie.
"Whatever it is," said Stephen, decisively, "we must not make anyaccusations without knowing, for certain, that we are right. It israther an uncomfortable situation, I think, considering he is uncle'sguest."
"It is, indeed," replied Alfred, "and I vote that we say not a word toanyone until we find out where Jose spent the morning."
"Agreed by all," cried Jimmie. "Am I right, girls?"
The two girls assented, and the matter was settled.
"I think we had better be moving on toward home, now," said Stephen, "ifwe want to escape a scolding from Miss Stuart."
"All right, general," replied Jimmie. "The bivouac is at an end. Rise,soldiers, and follow your leader." He cocked his hat, turned up his coatcollar and struck a Napoleon pose.
There was a stifled laugh, from behind a clump of alder bushes--a coarselaugh that made the boys look up quickly and uneasily.
"What was that?" asked Ruth, frightened.
Without waiting for a reply, Alfred divided the bushes with his canedisclosing three pairs of eyes gazing impudently at them. Three figuresuntangled themselves from the bushes and rose stiffly, as if they hadbeen lying concealed there for a long time. The girls gave a stifled cryof alarm, for each recognized the giant tramp, who had attacked themnear the churchyard of Sleepy Hollow; and his companions were probablythe same, although the girls had not seen them at that time. The leaderof the three roughs did not recognize them, however. He had been toomuch intoxicated to remember their faces; but he was sober, now, and inan uglier mood than when he had been in his cups.
"So ho!" he cried. "We have here five rich, young persons--rich with themoney they have no right to--stolen money--stolen from me and mine.While we beg and tramp, and dress in rags, you throw away the money wehave earned for you. Well, we won't have it. Will we, pals? We'll getback some of the money that belongs to us by rights. You'll hand outwhat you've got in your pockets, and, if it ain't enough, we'll keep youinto the bargain until your fathers they pays for your release. D'yesee? Ho! Ho!" He roared out a terrible laugh until the woods resounded.
The three boys had lined up in front of the two girls and Stephen hadcalled to them reassuringly over his shoulder:
"Start on, girls. You know the path. Follow it the way we came. If youmeet Adam, ask him to go with you, or even old Jennie. Don't befrightened. It'll be all right, but we've got to fight."
Barbara and Ruth, both very calm and pale, were standing silently,waiting for orders.
"Do you think we could help by staying, Bab?" asked Ruth.
"I don't know, dear," replied Bab. "Wait, and let me think a moment."She closed her eyes and her moving lips repeated the little prayer:"Heaven, make me calm in the face of danger," but in that moment thefight had begun. The two girls stood fascinated, rooted to the spot.
Stephen, who was a trained boxer, had tackled the leader and had managedto give him several straight blows, at the same time dodging thebadly-aimed blows from the big fist of his opponent. Alfred hadpurposely chosen the next largest tramp, leaving a small, wiry man forJimmie to grapple with. Alfred, also, had been carefully trained in thearts of boxing and wrestling; but his opponent was no mean match forhim, and the two presently were rolling over and over on the ground,their faces covered with dust and blood. Poor Jimmie was not a fighter.All his life he had shunned gymnasiums, preferring to thrum the piano orthe guitar, or invent models for airships. However, the boy was nocoward and he went at his enemy with a will that was lacking in forceonly because he himself lacked the muscle to give it. But the wiryfellow who had been his portion was evidently the best-trained fighterof the three tramps, and it was only a few moments before Jimmie wasbleeding from the nose and one eye was blacked. It looked as if Alfred,too, were getting the worst of it, while Stephen and his tramp werestill raining blows upon each other, jumping about in a circle. Bablonged to help Jimmie, but she saw, and Ruth agreed, that they would domore harm than good.
The two girls decided to run for help, even if they had to run all theway to Ten Eyck Hall, especially as, in the midst of the scrimmage,Stephen had called out to them to hurry up.
Making the best speed they could through the brambles and ferns, theyhad gone not more than a few rods when, pausing in their flight, theyfound themselves face to face with blind Jennie.
"What is happening?" demanded the old woman in a terrified whisper. "Ihear the sound of blows. I smell blood."
"There is a fight, Jennie," replied Bab, almost sobbing in herexcitement. "We must get help quickly from somewhere. Are the Gypsiesfar from here?"
"Yes," answered Jennie. "Not so near as the hall. But wait! Come withme," and her face was illumined by the expression of one who is about toreveal a well-kept secret.
"But, Jennie, is it help you are bringing us?" asked Ruth, demurring alittle.
"You may trust old Jennie," exclaimed the blind woman. "Be ye not thefriends of young Master Stephen?"
The two girls followed without a word.
Almost in sight of the fighters, she paused by the stump of a hollowtree which, when rolled away by her strong arm, disclosed a sort oftrapdoor underneath. Lifting the door, crudely constructed with stripsof wood, the bark still on, the girls saw a small underground chamberdug out like a cellar. The walls were shored up with split trees whichalso did duty as cross beams. There was a rough, hand-made ladder at theopening, and at one side a shelf on which was neatly folded--could theybelieve their eyes--the suit of green velveteen. Old Jennie, who seemedto be peering down into the cavity with her sightless blue eyes, shookBab's arm impatiently.
"Get the firearms," she whispered. "They be on the shelf. I felt themthere last time."
Sure enough, lying in the shadow at the far end of the shelf the girlsmade out two pistols gleaming ominously in the dark. Without a word, Babbounded down the ladder, and seizing the pistols was up again almost asquickly.
"Ruth," she said, "have you forgotten our rifle practice in theBerkshires?"
"No," replied her friend. "All you have to do is to cock it and pull thetrigger, isn't it?"
"That's right," answered Bab. "Take this one and come on. They are bothloaded, I see. Don't fire unless I tell you, and be careful where youaim. You had better point up so as not to hit anybody. Jennie, wait forus over here. I believe you have saved us all."
So saying, Bab ran, followed by Ruth, to the scene of the battle. And itwas indeed a battle! Jimmie was lying insensible on the ground, whilehis opponent had joined in the fight against Stephen, who was rapidlylosing strength. Alfred and his tramp were still rolling over and over,locked in each other's arms.
A few feet away from the fighters Bab fired her pistol in the air. Theexplosion stopped the fight. So intent had the combatants been that theyhad forgotten time and place. At the report of the pistol they came tothemselves almost with a jump. Everybody, except poor, unconsciousJimmie, paused breathless, perspiration pouring from their faces. Alfredhad got the better of his opponent and his hands gripped the man'sthroat. Bab, followed by Ruth, dashed up, and both girls pointed theirpistols at the two tramps who were engaging Stephen.
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p; "Shall we shoot them, Stephen?" asked Bab as calmly as if nothing hadhappened.
"Throw up your hands," cried Stephen to the tramps; which they proceededto do in prompt order. "Now, give me your pistol, Ruth; give yours toAlfred, Bab."
In the meantime, Alfred had risen, hardly recognizable in a coating ofdust and blood, ordering his man to lie quiet or be killed.
"Suppose we herd them together, Stephen," he suggested, "and drive themup to the hall like the cattle they are?"
"Just what I was thinking," replied Stephen, "only what about Jimmie?"
"The girls will see to him," answered Alfred.
"No, no," retorted Stephen. "We can't leave the girls here alone withhim in that condition, not after this. There may be more tramps lurkingaround, for all we know."
Just then an exclamation from Ruth, who was kneeling beside theprostrate Jimmie, caused the two boys to turn their heads involuntarily,and in that moment, the two men who were standing with their arms up atthe point of Stephen's pistol, ran for the underbrush, Stephen shot andmissed his aim. He shot again and hit the small fellow in the leg,having aimed low; not wishing to kill even in self-defense. But thetramps had plunged into the woods, and were out of sight in an instant.
"Better not go after them, Stephen," called Alfred. "We've got one hereand we may catch the others later. I wish we had a rope to tie thisfellow's hands with."
"Try this," suggested Ruth, and she calmly tore the muslin ruffle offher petticoat and handed the strip to Alfred, who bound the man's handsbehind his back and ordered him to sit still until he was wanted.
Meanwhile, the two girls had turned their attention to Jimmie, whoshowed no signs of returning consciousness, but lay battered andbleeding, a sad sight in comparison to the joyous Jimmie of half an hourbefore. Blind Jennie had come from her hiding place behind a tree, andwas kneeling beside the wounded boy. Feeling the abrasions on his facewith her sensitive fingers, she shuddered.
"He should have water," she whispered. "There is a brook not far fromhere. I will show you," and she turned her sightless eyes in thedirection of Stephen, who was guarding the remaining tramp.
"Ruth, you and Alfred take our three hats and go with Jennie for thewater. Alfred, take the pistol with you in case of another attack. Bab,you stay and look after Jimmie, please."
Ruth and Alfred followed after old Jennie, while Bab, kneeling besideJimmie, began chafing his wrists. Not a sound broke the stillness.Stephen, on a log, had his pistol cocked and pointed straight at thetramp who was huddled in a heap on the ground, gazing sullenly into thebarrel of the pistol. Bab had not looked around for some time, so intentwas she on her efforts to bring some life back into poor Jimmie. Butfeeling a sudden, unaccountable loneliness, she called:
"Stephen, aren't you curious to know where we found the pistols?"
There was no answer, and, looking over her shoulder, Bab was horrifiedto see Stephen lying prone on the ground in a dead faint, the pistolstill grasped tightly in his hand, while the tramp had evidently lost notime in joining his pals.
Leaving Jimmie, Bab rushed to Stephen. First releasing the pistol fromhis hand, she laid it on a stump. Then she began rubbing his wrists andtemples.
"Poor old Stephen!" she murmured. "You were hurt all the time and neversaid a word."
Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at Bab in a sort of shamefaced way.
"I suppose the tramp got away?" he asked.
"Who cares," replied his friend, "if you aren't hurt?"
"Oh, I'm not," he answered. "I was only winded. That big fellow gave mea blow, just as you shot the pistol off, that nearly did for me. But Ithought I could keep up until the others came back. I knew I couldn't gofor the water. How did you get the pistols?"
By the time Bab had finished her story the others had come up with thewater.
"It's just as well the tramp has gone," said Alfred, when he had heardwhat had happened. "I don't believe we could have managed him andJimmie, too."
They bathed Jimmie's face and wrists with the cold spring water, and itwas a battered and disconsolate young man who finally opened his onegood eye on the company.
"I think," said Stephen, "we had better put these pistols back wherethey were. If they are gone, the robber will take alarm and we'll nevercatch him. I don't think we'll be attacked by those tramps any moreto-day. They'll never imagine we have left the pistols."
The others agreed, and the pistols were left on the shelf by Bab, whoremembered exactly where they had been when she found them. All theothers, even Jimmie, peered curiously down into the underground room.
"I don't think it's been very long dug," observed Alfred. "There is somuch fresh earth around the door. The fellow carted most of it away, Isuppose, and put leaves and sticks over what was left. But there isplenty of evidence of fresh earth, just the same."
"So there is," replied Stephen. "Jennie, you did a good day's work whenyou found that hole in the ground. You may have saved our lives, for allwe can tell."
But the old woman only muttered, as she punched the leaves with herstaff. The somewhat dilapidated picnic party resumed its homewardjourney, Jimmie supported by his two friends and stopping often to rest,while the two girls followed, keeping a sharp lookout on both sides. OldJennie brought up the rear.