CHAPTER IV--DOWN THE RIVER
"Fire--fire!"
The cry that had rung out so startlingly was repeated many times. Andycould trace a growing commotion. His burrow in the haystack faced awayfrom the buildings of the Jones farm, but in a minute or two a greatglare was visible even through his hay shield.
Andy did not dare to venture out from his hiding-place. From increasingshouts and an uproar, he could understand that the Jones household, andthen the families of neighbors were thronging to the fire. Some of theselatter, making a short cut from the road, passed directly by thehaystack in which he was hiding.
"It's the barn," spoke a voice.
"That's what it is, and blazing for good," was responded excitedly, andthe breathless runners hurried on.
Andy made up his mind that he would have to stay where he was for sometime to come, if he expected to avoid capture. Very soon people from thevillage came trooping to the scene. He could trace the shouts of thebucket brigade. He heard one or two automobiles come down the road. Theglare grew brighter and the crowd bigger. Soon, however, thestubble-field began to get shadowed again, he noticed.
It must have taken the barn an hour to burn up. People began to repassthe haystacks on their return trips. Andy caught many fragments ofconversation. He heard a man remark:
"They managed to save the livestock."
"Yes," was responded; "but Jones says a couple of thousand dollars won'tcover his loss."
"What caused it, anyhow?"
"It was a mystery to Jones, he says, until Talbot came along. Theyseemed to fix up a theory betwixt them."
"What was that?"
"Why, Jones was sort of hot and bitter about some boys who have botheredhim a lot of late. He walloped one or two of them. Young Gus Talbot wasamong them. Jones was hinting around about the fire being set forrevenge, when Talbot spoke up and reminded him that he had headed offthat runaway apprentice of Talbot's this morning."
"Oh, the boy they're looking for--Andy?"
"Yes, Andy Nelson. He's the one that set the fire, Talbot declares, andJones believes it, and they're going to start a big hunt for him. Talbotsays he's beat him out of some money, and Jones says he's just hungaround before leaving for good to get even with him for stopping himfrom getting away from Talbot." And, so speaking, the men passed on.
"Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish!" ruminated Andy. "What next, Iwonder?"
The refugee felt pretty serious as he realized the awkward and evenperilous situation he was in. As he recalled the fact that Gus and DaleBillings had crossed over the field an hour before the fire broke out,he was pretty clear in his own mind as to the identity of the firebugs.
"It's no use of thinking about seeing Mr. Dawson now," decided Andy."It's too late in the evening, and too many people will be looking forme. There's so much piling up against me, that maybe Mr. Dawson wouldn'tbelieve a word I say. No, it's a plain case. They haven't any use for mein Princeville, and the sooner I get out of the town and stay out of it,the better for me."
Andy's foot was in no condition for a long tramp. He realized this as hestretched it out and tested his weight upon it. He was not seriouslycrippled, but he was in no shape to run a race or kick a football.
"It's going to be no easy trick getting safely away from Princeville andout of the district," the boy told himself. "I'll wait until aboutmidnight, then I'll make for the river. There's boats going and comingas far as the lake, and I may get a lift as far as the city. I can losemyself there, or branch out for new territory."
Everything was still, and not a sign of life visible anywhere on thelandscape, when Andy at length ventured to leave his hiding-place. Therewas a smell of burned wood in the air, and some smoke showed at the spotwhere the barn had stood, but the town and the farmer's household seemedto have gone to bed.
No one appeared to see or follow him while crossing the stubble field,but Andy felt a good deal easier in mind as he gained the cover of thebrush.
The boy was entirely at home here--along the river as well. He had foundlittle time for recreation while working for Talbot, but whenever aspare hour had come along he had made for the woods and the creek as anatural playground. Now he went from thicket to thicket with a sense offreedom. He knew a score of good hiding-places, if he should be suddenlysurprised.
Andy looked up and down the creek when he reached it. He hoped to locatesome barge ready to go down the river with some piles of tan bark, or afreight boat returning from the summer camps along the lake. Nothing wasmoving on the stream, however, and no water craft in view.
"I'll get below the bridge. Then I'll be safe to wait until daylight.Something is bound to come along by that time," he reflected.
Andy reached and passed the bridge about a mile below Princeville. Therewas no other bridge for ten miles, and if he had to foot it on hisjourney to the city, he would be out of the way of traversed roads. Hewalked on for about half a mile and was selecting a sheltered spot torest in, directly on the stream, when, a few yards distant, he noticed alight scow near shore.
Andy proceeded towards this. It resembled many craft of its class usedby farmers to carry grain and livestock to market. Andy noticed that itwas unloaded and poles stowed amidships. He stepped aboard. No one wasin charge of it.
"I might find some of the abandoned old skiffs or rafts the boys playwith, if I search pretty hard," soliloquized Andy, stepping ashoreagain.
"Hey!"
Andy was startled. Tracing the source of the short, quick hail, hediscovered a man seated on a boulder near a big hazel bush. Andy wasstartled a little, and slowly approached his challenger.
The man who had spoken to him sat like a statue. He was a pale-facedindividual, with very large bright eyes, and his face was covered with aheavy black beard. A cape that almost covered him hung from hisshoulders, completely hiding his hands. He looked Andy over keenly.
"Did you call me, mister?" inquired Andy.
"Yes, I did," responded the man. "I was wondering what you were doing,lurking around here at this unearthly hour of the night."
Andy mentally decided that it was quite as much a puzzle to him what thestranger was doing, sitting muffled up at two o'clock in the morning inthis lonely place.
"I was looking for a boat to take me down stream," explained Andy.
"Are you willing to work for a lift?" inquired the man.
"I should say so," replied Andy emphatically.
"Do you know how to manage a craft like this one here?"
"Oh, that's no trick at all," said Andy. "The river is clear, andthere's nothing to run into, and all you have to do is to pole along inmidstream."
"Where do you want to get to?"
"The city."
"I'm not going that far. I'll tell you what I'll do, though," said thestranger--"you pole me down to Swan Cove----"
"That's about fifteen miles."
"Yes. You take me that far, and I'll make it worth your while."
"It's a bargain, and I'm delighted!" exclaimed Andy with spirit.
"All right," said the man; "get to work."
He never got up from his seat while Andy cast free the shore hawser.When everything was ready he stepped aboard rather clumsily. Andythought it very strange that the man never offered to help him the leastbit. His passenger seated himself in the stern of the barge, the cloakstill closely enveloping his form, his hands never coming into sight.
It was welcome work for Andy, propelling the boat. It took his mind offhis troubles, and every push of the pole and the current took him awayfrom the people who had injured his good reputation and were bent onrobbing him of his liberty.
The grim, silent man at the stern of the craft was a puzzle to Andy. Henever spoke nor stirred. Our hero wondered why he kept so closelycovered up and in what line of transportation he used the barge.
They had proceeded about two miles with smooth sailing when there was asudden bump. The boat had struck a snag.
"Gracious!" ejaculated Andy, sent sprawling fl
at on the deck.
The contact had lifted the stranger from his seat. He was knocked to oneside. Andy, scrambling to his feet, was tremendously startled as hisglance swept his passenger.
The man struggled to his feet with clumsiness. He was hasty, almostsuspicious in his movements. The cloak had flown wide open, and now hewas swaying his arms around in a strange way, trying to cover them up.
"Why!" said the youth to himself, with a sharp gasp, "the man ishandcuffed!"