The Boy Chums in the Florida Jungle

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE FIRST BLOW.

  "THIS mystery business just seems to get thicker and thicker," CaptainWestfield remarked, when Charley had finished relating his experienceof the day. "Smokeless powder and Maxim silencers are no ways commonout in these woods."

  "It startled me for a minute," Charley admitted. "No smoke, nosound--just the whine of the bullets coming out of that frightfuljungle got me for a while. I did not know which way to go, forwardor back. I don't know whether they meant to kill me or not, but theypretty nearly scared me to death."

  "Did you meet a little man with a spade-like beard?" Walter asked.

  "No," said his chum. "Was there one here?"

  "Yes. He was on horseback, and came from the direction of Jupiter. Thebridge builders stopped him and sent in word to me. I went out andescorted him by the machine. He said his name was Jones, and that hehad a young orange grove out near Indiantown."

  "You did not let him go near the machine, did you?" Charley inquiredanxiously.

  "I did not," said his chum emphatically. "He wanted to stop and chatwith the engineers, but I told him we did not permit anyone around themachine but our own men, and he rode on."

  "Funny," Charley observed. "I did not meet him. He must have turned offinto the woods somewhere. I wish I had got a glimpse of him. I have anidea that he is the boss those convicts were talking about."

  "He was a mild-mannered, kind of timid-looking, little man," Walterobjected. "He did not look as though he would hurt a fly."

  "Mild-appearing men are sometimes the worst of all," Charley observed,as he stretched out on his cot. "Gee! but I am tired enough for atwenty-four hours' sleep."

  But, tired as he was, the lad could not go to sleep. His active brainkept turning over every event that had occurred, in a vain search fora clew as to who their enemies were, and what was their purpose. Thatthey would resort to desperate measures, if necessary, he had not theslightest doubt. The placing of the dynamite under the machine, thepresence of the convicts, and the shots in the jungle, proved that. Itmust be a powerful motive that would induce men to go so far. For allhis knowledge of the state and its people, the lad could not think ofanything in this wild, remote country that would tempt men to risk thehangman's rope.

  Suddenly the lad raised himself on his arm again and listened. One ofthe sentinels had cried "Halt!" Then in quick succession came repeatedcries of "Halt! Halt! Halt!" and then a shot.

  Charley leaped from his cot, calling his companions, and, quicklylighting a lantern, found his rifle. But, before he could pull on hisshoes, the flap of the tent was thrown open, and one of the sentinels,white-faced and trembling, rushed in.

  "Me killie de man! Me killie de man!" he cried in broken English.

  By this time both the Captain and Walter were awake, and the threegathered around the guard, somewhat pale themselves, for they were notthe kind that value human life lightly.

  "Go on, and tell us all about it," commanded Charley. "Talk Spanish."

  The guard broke into a torrent of words. "He had seen the manapproaching in the mist. Four times he had called to him to halt butthe man kept coming on. Then he had fired and the man had dropped, andnow he, Gomez, would be hung."

  The chums had been pulling on their shoes and pants as they listened tothe frightened Spaniard, and now seizing their automatics and givingthe guard the lantern, they told him to lead the way to where the manlay.

  It was but a short way from the tents, that the Spaniard stopped andpointed ahead. "There he lies," he said. "I do not want to gaze on him.May the Blessed Virgin forgive me for his death."

  The boys, peering into the mist, could dimly see a dark form lying onthe ground ahead of them.

  Charley snatched the lantern from the Spaniard's shaking hand anddarted ahead. A few steps brought him to the motionless form. When thelantern's light fell upon it, he gave a howl of laughter, for, insteadof lighting up the pale face of a dead man, as he had expected, itsrays revealed the form of a small black bear.

  At the sound of his laughter, Gomez timidly approached. His delight wasunbounded when he found out that it was a bear and not a man he hadkilled. The four of them picked up the bear and carried it back to thecook tent.

  "Where is Lavinia, Gomez?" Charley asked as they laid the bear downnear the tent. "Why did he not come to your aid when you fired?"

  The Spaniard shrugged his shoulders. "I have not seen him since I shot.He is afraid maybe. Maybe he climb up a tree."

  But Charley did not join in the Spaniard's laugh; instead, he picked upthe lantern. "Come on," he said shortly. "Let's see what has become ofhim."

  Already the guards had tramped a beaten track around the camp andit was not difficult to find where Lavinia had made his half of thecircle. Midway of it lay the Spaniard, face down on the ground.

  "Esto Morta (he is dead)!" cried Gomez.

  "No," Charley said, as he felt of the man's wrist. "He has justfainted, I guess. Give me a hand and we will carry him into our tent.We don't want to rouse up the whole camp and get every one excited."

  They bore the Spaniard into their own tent and laid him on Charley'scot. A sprinkling of cold water in his face, and a small drink ofliquor quickly brought the man to his senses. "What's the matter withyou?" Charley asked when the Spaniard had emerged from his stupor.

  "I do not know, senor," replied the guard. "Everything go black all ofa sudden. I know nothing more--head hurts more now bad."

  Charley examined his head. "The skin is broken a little," he said. "Iguess you must have hit it against something when you fell. How do youfeel now? Feel able to get over to your tent and get to bed?"

  "I go back on guard," the man said as he staggered to his feet. "I feelall right again pretty soon," but as he still appeared half dazed thelad insisted on his going to his tent. Gomez was sent back on guardand Charley took the sick man's place. Both the Captain and Walteroffered to take the guard duty, but Charley refused.

  "You both have to work to-morrow," he said, "while I will have mostof the day to rest up in. I don't feel the least bit sleepy now," andin truth he did not. This new incident had given him fresh food forthought. It had needed only a glance at the wound on Lavinia's headto convince him that it had been made by a bullet. If he had had theslightest doubt, it would have been dispelled by the fact that they hadfound the Spaniard lying face down. Their hidden enemies were gettingbold.

  When daylight came the weary, troubled lad drank a cup of coffee Chrishad ready for him and tumbled down on his cot for a few hours' sleep.He was up again before noon, and after a hasty lunch he drove the truckinto Jupiter after the supplies he had ordered from Jacksonville. Hefound them waiting for him, and after loading them on the truck, hewrote out a telegram to the sheriff and handed it to the agent, whowhistled as he read it over. "There's a big reward offered for thosefour men," he commented as he clicked off the message with his key."They are all four of them desperate characters. I guess I'll wait forthe sheriff's reply;" then Charley said: "If there's a reward in it, wemight want our share. Money isn't any too plentiful with us yet. By theway," he continued, "do you know a little man with mild blue eyes anda spade-like beard that goes by the name of Jones?"

  "I don't know him, but I see him quite often," said the friendly agent."He comes and goes here quite frequently, generally on night trains.He gets a lot of telegrams here. Most of them come from the statecapital and New York. They are all code messages, that I can't makehead or tail of. Everyone here in town knows him, but nobody knows hisbusiness, which is unusual in a little town like this. When he comeshere he generally hires a horse and spends most of his time riding outin the woods. There, that's the reply to your message, I guess." Hescribbled rapidly on a telegraph blank while the instrument clickednoisily. "That satisfactory?" he asked, as he tossed the sheet toCharley with a smile.

  "Sure," Charley grinned, as he read:

  "SHERIFF'S OFFICE, Palm Beach Co.

  "The four escaped convicts y
ou described are desperate characters--$500 reward offered for the capture of each. We'll divide reward. Too late to come to-day. Will come out by auto to-morrow morning and bring posse."

  "SHERIFF."

  It was almost dark when Charley got back to camp with his load, and hewas thoroughly tired out, but he felt happier in spirits than he hadin many days.

  "We've only got one more night of suspense to go through," he told hischums, over the campfire. "The sheriff will be out in the morning,with his posse, and that will dispose of the convicts, make us $1,000richer, and we will have peace for a while, I hope. Has that littleman, Jones, come back yet, Walt?"

  "Haven't seen anything of him," his chum replied. "The convicts arestill camped in the same place. At any rate I can see the smoke oftheir campfire from the machine."

  "Good!" Charley exclaimed. "You fellows can sit up and talk, as long asyou want to--I'm going to bed. I'm dead tired."