CHAPTER XVI.
DON'S HOUNDS TREE SOMETHING.
Lester and his companion followed the wagon at a safe distance andsaw it driven to the negro quarters, which were located about halfa mile below the General's house. It stopped in front of one of thecabins, and Don and Bert began the work of transferring the quailsfrom the coop to the building in which they were to remain until theywere sent up the river. Bob and Lester counted the number of tripsthey made between the wagon and the door of the cabin, and made arough estimate of the number of birds they had caught that morning.
"They've got at least a hundred," said Lester, when the wagon wasdriven toward the house, "and that is just one-sixth of the numberthey want. At that rate that beggar Dave will be rich in a weekmore."
"Not if we can help it!" exclaimed Bob, angrily. "That cabin willburn as well as the shooting-box did!"
"But we don't want to do too much of that sort of work," answeredLester. "We may get the settlement aroused, and that wouldn't suitus. I'd rather steal the birds, wouldn't you?"
Bob replied that he would, but hinted that if they attempted it theymight have a bigger job on their hands than they had bargained for.In the first place, there were Don's hounds.
"But we braved them once--that was on the night we borrowed Don'sboat to go up and burn his shooting-box--and we are not afraid todo it again," said Lester. "We didn't alarm them then."
Bob acknowledged the fact, but said he was afraid they might not beso lucky the next time. And even if they succeeded in breaking intothe cabin without arousing the dogs, how were they to carry away ahundred live quails? The only thing they could do would be to putthem in bags, and it was probable that half of them would die forwant of air before they could get them home. They would be obliged tomake two or three trips to the cabin in order to secure them all, andeach time they would run the risk of being discovered by the hounds.
While the two friends were talking these matters over, they werewalking slowly toward the place where they had left their horses.Having mounted, they started for home again, and the very firstperson they saw when they rode out of the woods into the road wasDavid Evans, who had just been up to the shop to restore the pointerto his owner.
"There he is!" said Bob, in a low whisper. "He is dressed up in hisbest, too."
"Best!" sneered Lester. "Why, I wouldn't be seen at work in thefields in such clothes as those!"
"Nor in any other, I guess. They are the best he can afford," saidBob, who had some soft spots in his heart, if he was a bad boy, "andI don't believe in making fun of him."
"You believe in cheating him out of a nice little sum of moneythough, if you can," retorted Lester.
"No, I don't. I am working to keep him from cheating _me_ out of it.If he will keep his place among the niggers, where fellows of hisstamp belong, I'll be the last one to say or do anything against him;but when he tries to shove himself up among white folks, and swindleme out of a new shot-gun and get appointed mail carrier over my head,it's something I won't stand. Say, Dave," he added, drawing rein, asthe subject of his remarks approached, "can you spare us just abouttwo minutes for a little private conversation?"
"I reckon," replied David. "Have you joined that sportsman's club,and are you going to prosecute me for being a pot-hunter?"
"Lester has already told you what we are going to do about that, andyou may rest assured that we shall _do_ it," answered Bob, sharply."What we say, we always stand to. What we want to talk to you aboutnow is this: We know, as well as you do, that your father is hidingout here in the cane, and that he dare not show himself in thesettlement for fear he will be arrested. You wouldn't like to seehim sent to jail, would you?"
"I know what you mean," replied David. "My father may have beenfoolish, but he has done nothing that the law can touch him for."
When he said this he was thinking of Clarence Gordon and the barrelwith the eighty thousand dollars in it. He did not know that Godfreywas guilty of highway robbery, and he forgot that he had alsocommitted an assault upon Don, and that he had received and cared forstolen property, knowing it to be stolen.
"Hasn't he, though!" cried Bob. "He got into my father's smoke-houselast night and stole some meal and bacon. He forced a lock to do it,too. The law can touch him for that, can't it?"
David leaned against the fence and looked at the two boys withoutspeaking. He did not doubt Bob's story. He had been expecting to hearof such things for a long time. He had told himself more than oncethat when his father grew tired of living on squirrels, somebody'ssmoke-house and corn-crib would be sure to suffer. Godfrey wasgetting worse every day, and something told David that he would yetperform an act that would set every man in the settlement on histrack.
"We can send him to prison," continued Bob. "You would not like that,of course, and you can prevent it if you feel like it. Lester and Iare the only ones who know that he robbed my father last night, andwe will keep it to ourselves on one condition."
"I know what it is," said David. "You want me to promise that I willtrap no more quails. Perhaps you want the money yourselves."
"That's the very idea," said Lester.
"It isn't the money we care about," exclaimed Bob, quickly. "We'veset out to put down this business of trapping birds and shipping themout of the country, and we're going to do it. You think that becauseDon and Bert are backing you up, you can do just as you please; butwe'll show you that they don't run this settlement. You're gettingabove your business, Dave, and it is high time you were taught alesson you will remember the longest day you live. What do you say?Will you trap any more quails?"
"Yes, I will," replied David, without an instant's hesitation.
"Don't forget that we can put the constable on your father's trackto-morrow morning," said Bob, his voice trembling with rage.
"I wasn't thinking of my father. He has made his bed and he must liein it. I was thinking of my mother. She must have something to eatand wear this winter, and how is she to get it, if I give up thischance of making a little money?"
"Just listen to you, now!" Bob almost shouted. "One would think tohear you talk that you are used to handling greenbacks by the bushel.You are a pretty looking ragamuffin to call a hundred and fiftydollars 'a little money,' are you not? It's more than your oldshantee and all you've got in it are worth. Go on!" he yelled,shaking his riding whip at David, as the latter hurried down the roadtoward home. "I'll send you word when to come down to the landing andsee your father go off to jail."
"I never saw such independence exhibited by a fellow in hiscircumstances," said Lester, as he and Bob rode away together. "Onewould think he was worth a million dollars."
"He thinks he will soon be worth a hundred and fifty, and that's whatails him," answered Bob, whose face was pale with fury. "But there'smany a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip, as he will find before he ismany days older. I'll tell my father to-night what Godfrey Evans did,and as soon as it grows dark we'll go down to that cabin and carryoff all the birds we can catch. The rest we will liberate."
A part of this programme was duly carried out. As soon as theyreached home Bob told his father what had happened the night before,and was a good deal surprised as well as disgusted, because Mr. Owensdid not grow very angry, and declare that Godfrey should be punishedto the full extent of the law.
"A bag of meal and a side of bacon are hardly worth making a fussabout," said Bob's father. "I will put a new lock on the smoke-house.But how does it come that you boys did not tell me of this at once?"
"Because we wanted to make something out of it," replied Bob. "If ithadn't been for Dave, Lester and I would have pocketed a nice littlesum of spending money; but he's gone and got the job of trapping thequails, or rather that meddlesome Don Gordon got it for him, and, notsatisfied with that, he has the cheek to run against me when I amtrying to be appointed mail carrier."
"Well," said Mr. Owens.
"Well," repeated Bob, "I told him his father was a thief, and I couldprove it, but I would say nothing
about it if he would agree not totrap any more quails. If he had done that, I should have brought upthis matter of carrying the mail, and made him promise to leave me aclear field there, too; but he wouldn't listen to anything."
"I am glad you told me this," said Mr. Owens, after thinking amoment, "and it is just as well that you did not say anything toDavid about the mail. No one knows that I am going to put in a bidfor the contract, and I don't want it known; so be careful what yousay. Gordon will never get that mail route for David, for theauthorities will think twice before appointing the son of a thiefto so responsible a situation."
"But are you going to do nothing to Godfrey?"
"I'll keep him in mind, and if it becomes necessary I'll put theconstable after him, and tell him that the more fuss he makes incapturing him, the better it will suit me."
The first thing the two boys did after they had eaten their dinner,was to fit up one of the unoccupied negro cabins for the reception ofthe birds they intended to steal that night. There were a good manyholes to be patched in the roof where the shingles had been blownoff, and numerous others to be boarded up in the walls where thechinking had fallen out, and the afternoon was half gone before theirwork was done. They still had time to visit their traps, but all thebirds they took out of them could have been counted on the fingers ofone hand. Bob looked at them a moment, then thought of the big boxfull he had seen Don and Bert take home that morning, and grew veryangry over his ill luck. He proposed to wring the necks of thecaptives and have them served up for breakfast the next morning, butLester would not consent. Every one helped, he said, and these fivebirds, added to the forty or fifty they were to steal that night,would make a good start toward the fifty dozen they wanted.
After the boys had eaten supper, they secured four meal bags, whichthey hid away in a fence corner, so that they could find them againwhen they wanted them, and then adjourned to the wagon-shed to laytheir plans for the night's campaign. Of course their expeditioncould not be undertaken until everybody about the General'splantation was abed and asleep. That would not be before ten ortwelve o'clock--the negroes kept late hours since they gained theirfreedom, Bob said--and they dared not go to sleep for fear that theywould not awake again before morning. They hardly knew what to dowith themselves until bed time came. They spent an hour in talkingover their plans, then went into the house and played checkers, andwere glad indeed when the hour for retiring arrived. They made a showof going to bed, but they removed nothing but their boots, which theyslammed down on the floor with more noise than usual. They heard theclock in the kitchen strike every hour, and when it struck twelvethey began to bestir themselves.
Bob's room being located on the first floor, in one of the wings ofthe house, it was a matter of no difficulty for him and his companionto leave it without arousing any of the family. All they had to dowas to open one of the windows, drop to the ground, pull on theirboots and be off; and this they did in about the same time that ittakes to tell it. They picked up their meal bags as they passed alongthe fence, and in half an hour more were inside General Gordon'sfence, and moving cautiously along the lane that led toward the negroquarters. A few steps brought them into the midst of the cabins,which were as dark and silent as though they had been deserted. Someof them were deserted, while others were occupied by the field hands.The one in which the quails were confined stood on the outskirts ofthe quarters, and Bob, who had taken particular pains to mark thebuilding, so that he would know it again, had no difficulty infinding it. It was the only cabin that was provided with a coveredporch; and that same porch, or rather the posts which supported theroof, came very handy to the young prowlers a few minutes later. Theywalked around the building two or three times to make sure that therewas no one near it, and then Bob cautiously mounted the steps andtried the door. The patter of little feet and the shrill notes ofalarm that sounded from the inside told him that he had aroused theprisoners.
"Just listen to that," whispered Lester, greatly amazed. "The cabinmust be full of them."
"We'll soon know how many there are," answered Bob. "I'd givesomething if I could see Don Gordon's face when he comes down here inthe morning."
As Bob spoke, he opened one of the meal bags and drew from it theiron strap, which Godfrey Evans had used in prying open the door ofthe smoke-house two nights before. Lester struck a match on his coatsleeve, and when it blazed up, so that Bob could see how to work, heplaced the strap between the hasp and the door, and exerted all hisstrength in the effort to draw out the staple with which it wasconfined. But that staple was put there to stay. It was made by theplantation blacksmith under Don's personal supervision, and as it waslong enough to be clinched on the inside of the door, Bob made noprogress whatever in his efforts to force an entrance.
"We can do nothing here," said he, after he had pulled and pusheduntil the inside of his hands seemed to be on fire. "We must try thewindow."
"But that is so high you can't reach it," said Lester.
"Not from the ground, I know. You will have to hold me up."
Descending from the porch with noiseless footsteps, the boys passedaround to the rear of the cabin, and when Lester had stationedhimself under the window, Bob quickly mounted to his shoulders. Heexamined the window as well as he could in the dark, and began togrow discouraged. It was boarded up with two-inch planks, and theywere held in their places by the largest spikes Don could find at Mr.Jones's store. Bob pushed his lever under one of the planks, but whenhe laid out his strength upon it, Lester rocked about in so alarminga manner, that Bob lost his balance, and to save himself fromfalling, jumped to the ground.
"We might as well go home," said he, rubbing his elbow, which, owingto Lester's unsteadiness, he had scratched pretty severely on therough planks. "If we only had a bundle of straw we'd start abonfire."
"It's a pity to go home and leave all these birds here," repliedLester. "Let's get up on the roof and tear off some of the shingles.We can climb up by those posts that support the roof of the porch."
"O, it is easy enough to get up there, but what good will it do totear off the shingles? We couldn't get the birds out unless one ofus went down after them, and it wouldn't be me, I tell you!"
"We'll not try to get the birds at all. We'll leave the holes openso that they can escape. Wouldn't that be better than allowing themto stay here for Dave Evans to make money out of?"
"I should say it would," exclaimed Bob, who always grew angrywhenever anything was said about David's chances of making money."But we'll first make one more effort to get the birds ourselves.Hold me up again and don't wobble about as you did before."
In a few seconds more Bob was again perched upon his companion'sshoulders, and this time he was sure that his efforts would becrowned with success. The planks were fastened to the window casing,which, on one side, was too badly decayed to hold the spikes. Hestarted some of them with the first pull he made at his lever, and,encouraged by his progress, was about to prepare for a greatereffort, when Lester uttered an exclamation of alarm and jumped fromunder him.
"Great Moses!" exclaimed Bob, who came to the ground with fearfulviolence. "Do you want to kill a fellow?"
"No," said Lester, whose voice trembled so that it was almostinaudible. "There's somebody coming!"
Before Bob could ask any more questions, a loud, shrill whistle,which sounded only a little distance away, rang through the quarters,followed almost immediately by the impatient yelp of a hound. Theyoung prowlers were frightened almost out of their senses. Beforethey could make up their minds what ought to be done, a voiceshouted:
"Here they be! Take 'em, fellers! Take 'em down!"
Another impatient yelp and the rush of feet on the hard road told theboys that Don Gordon's hounds were coming. This aroused them, andshowed them the necessity of making an effort to escape. It wasuseless to run; the only place of safety was the roof of the cabin,and they made the most frantic efforts to reach it. They dartedquickly around the corner of the building, sprang upon the porch andsquirm
ed up the posts with the agility of monkeys. But with all theirhaste they did not have a second to spare. They had scarcely left theporch before the hounds bounded up the steps and a pair of gleamingjaws came together with a snap close to Lester's foot, which he drewout of the way just in time to escape being caught. Panting andalmost breathless with terror the two boys crept cautiously up theroof--the moss-covered shingles were so slippery that it was all theycould do to keep from sliding off among the hounds--and seatingthemselves on the ridge-pole looked at each other and at the savagebrutes from which they had so narrowly escaped. Then they looked allaround to find the person who had set the dogs upon them, but couldsee nothing of him.
Treed by Don Gordon's Hounds.]
"Where has he gone, I wonder?" said Lester, who was the first tospeak.
"Haven't the least idea," replied Bob.
"Who was it?"
"Don't know that, either. It didn't sound to me like Don's voice,but it sounded like his whistle, and if it was him, I wish he'd comeand call the dogs off. I am willing to give up now, Lester. Luck isalways on his side, and if he will let us go home without making anyfuss about it, I'll promise to leave him alone in future."
Lester could not find fault with his companion for losing his courageand talking in this strain, for he was frightened half to deathhimself, and he would have made all sorts of promises if he couldonly have climbed down from that roof and sneaked off to bed withoutbeing seen by anybody. Don did not show himself, although they calledhis name as loudly as they dared, and neither did the hounds growtired and go away, as Lester hoped they would. They were much toowell trained for that. It not unfrequently happened while Don andBert were hunting 'coons and 'possums at night, that the game tookrefuge in a tree much too large to be cut down in any reasonabletime by such choppers as they were. In that case Don would order thehounds to watch the tree, and he and Bert would go home, knowing thatwhen daylight came they would find the dogs still on duty and thegame closely guarded. The animals seemed to be perfectly satisfiedwhen they found that Lester and Bob had taken refuge on the top ofthe cabin. They walked around the building two or three times, as ifto make sure that there was no way of escape, and then laid down onthe ground and prepared to take matters very easily until theirmaster should come out to them in the morning. When Bob saw that,he lost all heart.
"If we never were in a scrape before, we're in one now," said he. "Wemay as well make up our minds to stay here all night."
"O, we can't do that," replied Lester, greatly alarmed. "Some onewill certainly see us."
"Of course they will. How can we help it?"
"I should never dare show my face in the settlement again, if thisnight's work should become known," continued Lester, who was almostready to cry with vexation. "It would ruin me completely, and you,too. Don and Bert would ask no better fun than to spread it all over,and your chances of carrying the mail would be knocked higher than akite. Let's pull off some of these shingles and throw them at thedogs. Perhaps we can drive them away."
"You don't know them as well as I do. They'll not drive worth a cent.We're here, and here we must stay until somebody comes and calls themaway. We'll hail the first nigger we see in the morning, and perhapswe can hire him to help us and keep his mouth shut."
This was poor consolation for Lester, but it was the best Bob had tooffer. Things turned out just as he said they would. They sat thereon the ridge pole for more than four hours, Lester racking his brain,in the hope of conjuring up some plan for driving the dogs away, andBob grumbling lustily over the ill luck which met him at every turn.
At last, when they had grown so cold that they could scarcely talk,and Lester began to be really afraid that he should freeze to death,the gray streaks of dawn appeared in the east. Shortly afterward thedoor of the nearest cabin opened, and a negro came out and stood onthe steps, stretching his arms and yawning.
"It's the luckiest thing that ever happened to us," said Bob,speaking only after a great effort. "That's the hostler. He knows meand will help us if anybody will. Say, Sam," he added, raising hisvoice. "Sam!"
"Who dar?" asked the negro, looking all around, as if he could notmake up his mind where the voice came from. "Who's dat callin' Sam?"
"It's me. Here I am, up here on top of this cabin," replied Bob,slapping the shingles with his open hand to show the negro where hewas.
"Wal, if dat ain't de beatenest thing!" exclaimed Sam. "What you twogemmen doin' up dar?"
"O, we were coming through here last night, taking a short cutthrough the fields, you know, and the dogs discovered us and drove usup here."
"I thought I heerd 'em fursin," said Sam; "but I thought mebbe they'ddone cotch a 'coon."
"Well, call 'em off and let us go home," exclaimed Lester,impatiently.
"Dat's impossible, dat is. Dem dar dogs don't keer no mo' fur usblack uns dan nuffin, dem dogs don't. Can't call 'em off, kase why,dey won't mind us. Have to go arter some of de white folks, suah!"
"Go on and get somebody, then, and be quick about it," said Bob,desperately. "And, Sam, if you can find Bert send him down. We wantto see him particularly, and it will save us walking up to thehouse."
The negro went back into his cabin, but came out again a few minuteslater and started up the road toward the house.