CHAPTER XIV
TRAILING THE STOLEN MONEY
Several miles away from the wagon trail that led from Staretta to thenow destroyed Longknives' clubhouse, two boys were groping along in thefalling twilight in a discouraged manner.
Around them stretched seemingly endless vistas of burned and blackenedforest, stark, leafless, forbidding. Under foot was a sooty, miry quagmireof rain-soaked soil, naturally low, swampy in places, and now all butimpassable. The rain had subsided into a misty drizzle, soft, fine, yetpenetrating.
"Gee but I'm tired, Chip!" said the younger of the two, lifting witheffort one foot after the other from the deep mud underneath.
"Well, she _is_ gettin' rather bad," replied the other. "Won't be muchmoon tonight, I reckon."
"D'you suppose the other boys will start out such a day as this?"
"Dunno; hard to tell. But we've come a right smart ways, Paul, and so faras I kin see we're gettin' further and further into these big woods."
"But we've never lost old Murky's trail. Have we, now?"
"Nope! Dark as it is, I kin make it out. You know when we started out wenoticed that one of his shoes or boots had a prong on one side of theheel. Well, here she is--see?"
And Chip Slider pointed to a deep impression made apparently by a bigshoe-nail or some other peculiarity which the lads had noted earlier whenthe light was better. Paul grunted a tired assent.
"Where do you reckon we are, anyhow?"
Chip was staring at a high bulge ahead as if some huge rock or boulderprotruded upward from the nearly level ground.
"I dunno. There's something ahead that looks like we might find a shelter.Come on, Paul."
The two plodded on, one carrying the lone blanket and the other the smallstore of eatables that remained after their last inroad upon it. Whenthey were nearly up to this unusual obstruction there came a sparkle oflight that hit the damp air momentarily, then went out. It seemed to Chip,who had the keenest eyes of the two, as if it might have been the flareof a match.
The boys halted at once and stood staring, listening, perplexed and yetmost curious. Finally they heard a snapping of twigs, and then cameanother flare and still another. Nothing else could they see for, as Chipsuspected, it was only the reflection of a light that they had seen.Evidently there must be someone behind that bulge. While they waitedbreathless, there came a confirmation of their fears--or rather was ittheir hopes?
"Blame me!" growled a heavy voice. "Why in sin won't she get afire?"
With one accord the two boys stood and stared--at each other. Finally Paulleaned forward, whispering:
"Murky, Murky!"
Chip more composedly nodded; then he too whispered:
"We must slip up behind that thing. It's a rock, I reckon."
Paul said nothing but when Chip started, he did likewise.
"Step keerful," whispered Slider. "Don't let your feet make a noise whenyou pull 'em out of the mud."
A low rumble of thunder muttered its way out of the west indicating morerain. As if to emphasize the menace of this, they heard Murky cursing tohimself. He, too, was aware that further rain and storm boded no good tohimself.
More softly still the boys came gradually up under the shelving sides of agreat rock, that proved to be the termination of a chain of similar rockswhich abutted from a ridge of low hills off to the northeast.
Beyond, on the other side of this last big boulder, they could still hearMurky--if it was Murky--renewing his attempts to make a fire. Under theshelving sides the boys had some shelter. But from the brighter glare onthe other side they knew that the tramp had succeeded in starting hisfire. Was he any better protected from the increasing rain than they?
For quite a time the two crouched, blanket over their shoulders, whilethe rain pattered harder and harder. Finally a slight shift of wind tothe westward caused the rain to beat in on them more. They were veryuncomfortable, squatting in the wet mould with their backs against thedamp rocks.
"See what I got?" Paul held up something that Chip cautiously felt.
"Where did you get that?" Chip was astonished.
"I knew we had one at the camp. But I thought it was lost. But today Ifound it in one of our bags. When we started I managed to slip it into mypocket. We're only two boys, and Murky is a grown man. Why, you've gotbruises on you now that he gave you--" Paul was showing a pistol.
"Hs-sh!" whispered Chip. "Not so loud. Lemme see that gun!"
"All right," and Paul passed it over. Chip looked at it closely. "I can'ttell yet if the chambers have any cartridges. We might need it."
By the mere feel of the thing they did not make sure, so Paul, before Chiphad time to remonstrate, struck one of his own matches. By this light thetwo bent closely, the light flaring out into the night air. At last, asthe match went out Chip declared:
"The chambers are all empty except one, and I can't see--hold on!"
Forgetting his previous caution, Chip himself struck another match.While they bent again to see if the cartridge was a full one they wereappalled when a deep, rough voice from out the apparent wall of rockbehind struck on their boyish ears like a knell of coming destruction.
They turned, Paul grasping the dubious pistol, while Murky, still wet,covered with mud and doubly forbidding by reason of this, seized ChipSlider in one hand and reached for Paul with the other.
Where had Murky come from? How did he suddenly appear apparently outof what the boys supposed to be a solid wall of rock? But at any ratethere he was with Chip squirming in his grasp while Paul, darting to oneside, barely eluded his left-handed clutch. Altogether it was a ticklishsituation.
But Paul was plucky. In a trice, remembering the one cartridge, helevelled the pistol and began pulling the trigger.
"Let go that boy!" his almost childish treble rang out. "Leggo, I say!"
Click--click--click went the hammer as he pulled the trigger, at thesame time jumping back further from Murky's gripping hand. Meantime Chipmanaged to loose himself. Murky, hearing the empty sound of the strikinghammer, growled:
"Huh-h! She's empty, blame ye--"
Just then--crack! came the sound of the full cartridge; but Paul's aimbeing unsteady, the ball just clipped Murky's left ear.
It maddened him more than anything else. With a yell of rage and pain hesprang at Paul, catching the lad as the latter tried to spring backward,but stumbling in the mud, while the pistol flew from his hand. By thistime the light of Murky's fire was blotted out by some passing object thatdarted swiftly out of the obscurity whence Murky had sprung. At the sametime Chip, now free, leaped pluckily to the assistance of his friend.
But on the instant the unknown object, emitting a Swedish howl of rage,burst through, striking Murky with an impact that sent him headlong outinto the night. With this collision back came the light that had beenmomentarily blotted from view by the last welcome intruder.
When this last stood revealed, big, heavy, yet strangely hampered byhis half useless arms, the two boys were in turn again astonished yetgratified to behold--Nels Anderson. Accompanying this appearance camethe sounds of rapidly retreating steps as Murky, recognizing defeat,made himself scarce as fast as he could. The three looked at each other,grinning the while as they looked.
"Say, Mr. Anderson," began Paul, "it was bully of you to come, and youstill crippled in your arms!"
At a glance both saw that Nels, while active as ever in body and legs,held his arms loosely, both hanging down at his sides.
"My arms no good," he began, "but I bane all right yet. Coom--ve look ferdot feller."
He turned, diving through a side passage hitherto hidden from Paul andChip, while they, following, emerged into a recess where two giganticboulders, leaning together, made the shelter under which Murky had startedthe fire that, flaring out into the darkness, had so puzzled the boysbefore. Here Murky, becoming aware that someone was beyond him, had creptup between rocks, listening when the boys arrived, and had sprung uponthem as has been described.
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p; For half a minute Nels stood, glaring at the embers of the fire and aroundto see what else might be there. But there was nothing, apparently, beyonda few scraps of eatables and a remnant of wet tow sacking.
"Coom on!" shouted the big Swede. "We bane get nothin' here!" And hedarted off in the darkness towards where Murky's retreating steps hadlast been heard. But nothing resulted except a trio of tired searcherswith deep mud on their legs and a sense that Murky had eluded them again.
"I don't see any signs of money round here," gloomily owned Paul, lookingabout the rocky recess where Murky had been quartered but a short whilebefore. "It is dark as pitch everywhere else. One thing, Chip. I fancy wegot his grub, whatever he had left after eating."
"That's something," owned up Chip. "A feller can't git along much in thesewoods unless he has something to fill his belly with."
Anderson, paying little heed to this, was staring into the fire, doubtlessthinking matters over. Chip picked up the tow-bagging, scanned itclosely and turned to Paul standing near. He pointed at a shred of thebagging that, without being detached from the sack, had somehow caught asmall patch of greenish paper inside its loose clutch. Carefully Chippicked out this, and handed it to Nels and Paul.
"That looks like a piece of money," quoth Chip. "Ain't it the corner ofa bill of some kind?"
Closer inspection revealed, even to Anderson's thicker brain, that thepaper shred had undoubtedly been part of a bank note of some kind. Beingwet, it was easily torn from the parent bank note in the rough handlingthe money had undergone. At least such was the conclusion drawn by allthree after a short inspection. Paul was greatly excited.
"What did I say when Phil found that old suit-case? Murky must 'a' putthe money in something else. It must 'a' been all wet. He must 'a' hadthat money here. What did he do with it?"
"I'm goin' to hunt for it right now!" said Chip now all eagerness.
"First we find Murky," interposed Nels. "Vere he be, dere ve find money."
"But Murky didn't have no load on him when he tackled us!" was Chip'sobjection.
"I goin' make light," said Nels. "You look roun'. Mebbe fin' money. Mebbefin' nothin'. I bane go fin' Murky. Make heem tell. Yah!"
And Anderson, who still had some use of his big hands, picked up a hatchetleft by the fugitive in his haste and clumsily began to split some drypine which had long lain under shelter, doubtless left there by formercampers or hunters. For several minutes the boys ferreted their way intoor through the neighboring crevices among the jumble of rocks, evenusing part of Anderson's splinters to aid them; but nothing did they find.
"Now we go," said Nels at last. "You boys bane tired mooch?"
The truth was all were pretty tired, but not one would acknowledge thefact. Nels, used to long fatigues, and crippled besides, made both Pauland Chip reluctant to own up that they needed sleep more than furthertravel.
The upshot of all this was that, in a short time, all were following themud trail left by Murky in his flight but a brief spell back. The fire hadbeen replenished, so as to give them some clue as to where they were,should they wish to return. Chip bore the torch; Paul carried an armloadof fat splinters; while Nels, plodding between, bent his woods-sharpenedeyes on the tracks that were plain enough yet, for the rain had at lastceased.
After leading them a sinuous path through the blackened wilderness forperhaps a mile, the tracks turned sharply to the right and upward alonga more gravelly slant until what seemed the backbone of a wooded ridge wasattained. Here the fire in consuming leaves, fallen branches and most ofthe thinner undergrowth, had thus swept from the gravel beneath all thesurface refuse. Probably this was accomplished before the rains began.
In consequence the tracks, growing more and more imperceptible, finallyvanished entirely.
"I bane tired," and Nels sat down, shaking his great head discouragingly.
"Gee whiz!" gurgled Jones. "I almost wish I was back in Staretta in mylittle bed 'stead of way out here where I don't even know where I am orhow I'll get out again."
But Chip was made of sterner stuff. Seeing his companions were in thedumps, he perked up and sniffed the night air expectantly.
"What's the use of gittin' discouraged? Mornin' 'll soon be here. We kinsee that fire yet, can't we? Les' go back and git some sleep."
"No use of dat." This from Nels. "It bane very late now. We git fire here.Sleep a bit."
But it was concluded not to make a fire, as it might give the man theywere hunting a clue as to where they were. So the three prepared to passa comfortless night. Fortunately it did not rain any more and, after afashion, they managed to endure the rest of the night. At last, cool andcheerless, the dawn came, and with the first glimmer the three set outalong the ridge. Nels kept to the summit, while the boys patrolled thesides, keeping an eye out amid the softer mud and ashes for any sign offoot tracks.
A mile or more might have been traversed thus when, at a shout from Chip,the others hastened to him and saw that the boy had detected distinct foottracks leading away towards the east.
"Fresh ones too," said Paul, pointing. "And--look there. Criminy! I'mgoing to take a look inside that hollow log."
He darted towards a rusty looking tree trunk over which the fire hadswept, leaving naught but the solid wood cylinder of dead beech. Most ofthe shrivelled bark, moss and dead leaves were reduced to ashes. Thesethe rain had made into a moist, blackish gray mush. At the larger endwere plain signs as if some heavy body had crawled inside and perhaps outagain. Nels, more up to woods lore, looked, sniffed, fingered clumsily,then delivered himself.
"Murkee, he bane sleep here yoost li'l whiles. Git oop soon. He bane gonea'retty--yuss!"
"Gone--yes!" exclaimed Paul. "But where did he go? How did he get awayso all-fired soon--hey?"
Here another call from Chip solved the question. Not far below the hollowlog began a tiny slough which presently widened out until footprints werediscernible in the mushy tussocks of what had before been a fringe ofmarsh-grass. It was Chip who led the way now, and eagerly pointed outfurther developments in the hunt.
"Do you reckon this really is Murky we are following?" asked Paul whileNels, tired, hungry and sleepy as well, dragged along dumbly.
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Chip, who was bent on solving the apparentlyunsolvable. "Who else would it be way out here in this wilderness? Wewouldn't be here if it wasn't for Murky: Murky wouldn't be here if hisown work hadn't driven him into it. Let's go on."
And on they went, the trail growing plainer as the slough widened anddeepened. Finally they came to a fallen tree extending from one side ofthe slough to the other. The scorched, blackened, rain-soaked top reachedto their side. Half way across the branches ceased and nothing but a slimyblack trunk reached to the other side. Already they were about to passthis when Chip, who was in the lead, suddenly stopped.
"I don't see no more tracks," said he, seemingly nonplussed.
At once Nels came forward, took one look about, then pointed at a sootylimb projecting landward from the trunk.
"W'at de matter wid dat?" he exclaimed. "She bane go dat way."
"Sure--you're right!" cried Paul, instantly comprehending. "But how willyou get across, Mr. Anderson?"