CHAPTER X

THE END OF THE RAID

At the beginning of the fight, Hugh wakened from a troubled sleep into which he had fallen, wearied with fruitless efforts to break the lock of the door. One thought was ever in his mind, even in his dream: to escape. For this purpose he had clawed away a wide c.h.i.n.k in the log walls, he had even dug under the threshold---without avail.

Nevertheless, he was glad to be active and thankful that he had been unbound before his captors went away, leaving him a prisoner in the shanty until they were ready to release him. Joe Durgan had even been considerate enough to leave a half loaf of bread and a gla.s.s of beer on the table; but Hugh declined these delicacies.

All during the fight he crouched by the locked door, listening in alternate hope and dread of the outcome, now and then raising his voice amid the din and confusion outside. It was perhaps not strange that none of his friends heard him, for his shouts only mingled with those of the smugglers and were lost in the general clamor.

But they were heard by one man, who, though not exactly a friend, was yet an amiable enemy.

In the midst of the conflict, when the Revenue Service men had arrived to turn the tide of fortune, the door was quickly opened and shut, and a man stood in the room, panting hard.

Hugh sprang to his feet, ready for any new emergency.

"What are you-all doin' thar, youngster?" said a voice in the darkness, a deep voice which Hugh recognized as Durgan's.

"Trying to get out, of course," he replied defiantly, every nerve in his young body tingling with excitement. "What did you expect me to do, Durgan?"

"Eh? Oh, nothin'. Thought you might ha' gone to sleep like a good little boy."

The man's harsh laugh sounded hollow and unpleasant. Hugh shuddered.

"I was asleep," he said, "but when----"

"Real unkind o' your friends to wake you up, eh?" interrupted Durgan.

His hand stole behind him. With a quick turn he opened the door, and admitted some one. "Come in, Harry," he said. "The kid's here, all right. What did I tell you?"

"That so?" growled Harry Mole. "Well, we know who he is now.

Somebody tipped off the officers about the run we was goin' to make to-night; and since it wasn't this kid, it must-a been one of his bunch. Shall we heave him into the stream, Joe, or leave him here?"

"Not on your life!" Durgan replied promptly. "He's caught on to too much about us while he's been here, and he can tell those ginks a lot that we don't want 'em to know. So's long as we kin get out o'

here alive, we'd better take him along."

"He spoiled our plans to-night. He deserves to be knocked on the head an' thrown out to the 'gators!"

"Spoilt our plans, you bet! But he'll get his, by-and-by. Come, take him and hustle away. Cripes! hear them bullets smashin' into the wall!"

"Remember, kid," said Mole, "if you shout or let out a word, we'll stick a knife between yer slats."

From the fierce way in which Mole uttered this threat, Hugh did not doubt he would do as he said. However, he did not yield without a silent struggle, though he was soon overpowered by the two burly ruffians. Each taking him by an arm, they led him outside and dragged him over a stretch of b.u.mpy ground, stumbling along in the semi-darkness.

Scarcely five minutes after they left the hut and the two burning shanties behind them, Hugh's friends burst into the empty cabin---too late to rescue him.

But these young, well-trained scouts lost no time in searching the place. Separating into pairs---Norton and Mark, Alec and Chester, with Billy and Dave in advance, following Durgan's and Mole's trail---they formed a line of communication between the cabin and the site of the bonfire, hoping that by thus keeping a picket line they might catch sight of Hugh or his captors beating a hasty retreat toward the sh.o.r.e.

Meanwhile, Durgan and Mole with Hugh between them walked very fast indeed. Had they not supported Hugh, he should have fallen several times; for, young and strong as he was, he was almost worn out with the rough treatment he had undergone. Every minute he thought they would stop, and, making an end of their senseless threats, release him and run. But they evidently had no intention of doing so.

Hugh tried to ascertain in what direction they were leading him, but he soon gave this up as useless. He was on the verge of despair, when suddenly out of the gloom came a startlingly familiar call---the call of the Wolf patrol.

"_Wow-ow-ooo-oooo-hoo-Hugh!_"

It sounded not far away, on his left, and the lad's heart bounded with joy. He knew that that call could come from none other than Billy Worth, and Billy must therefore be near at hand, ready to lead his comrades to Hugh's rescue.

For one wild moment he was tempted to answer the call---then discretion prevailed, and he kept silence.

Naturally, the two men also were startled at the sound. Mole gave Hugh a prod in the shoulder with the point of a knife and Durgan swore volubly.

"None o' that thar, Harry!" he warned. "Don't hurt the kid. If you do, we'll-----"

"Aw, shut up!" retorted the other, and they hurried on.

By great effort Hugh said nothing, asked no questions, did not even answer the wolf-call. Instinct told him it would be better to do as his captors had ordered, and now he pretended to feel resigned to his fate---knowing that help was forthcoming.

As they went on, sounds of a lively scuffle reached his ears, and he could also hear the dull booming of surf, by which he knew that he could be at no great distance from the sh.o.r.e. Behind him, evidently following, again sounded the wolf-call, giving him courage and renewed hope.

Durgan turned to him angrily.

"What made you jump when you heard that thar howl?" he demanded.

"Nothing. Where---where are we going?" Hugh ventured to ask, at length, forgetting that he was not to utter a word of protest. "I'm dog-tired, and my knee aches---a sprain, I guess."

"You lie!" retorted Mole fiercely, and he struck Hugh across the mouth.

"You'll soon have time enough to rest yourself, youngster," added Durgan in a kinder tone. "You're in luck that things ain't no worse for you."

But Hugh scarcely heard; at any rate, he paid no heed. Boiling with rage at the insult, he gave one shout: "Billy! This way, scouts!" and struggling desperately, he managed to slip from his captors' grasp.

In another minute he had whirled around and was running as fast as he could put foot to the ground.

To his surprise, Mole and Durgan did not chase him. When he paused for an instant to rub his bruised knee and to look around, he dimly saw them in the distance running to a spot where a crowd of men were pushing and struggling to get into a boat.

Presently he discerned a larger body of men hastening to the place, and in the dim light of the moon he saw that they were soldiers and seamen.

While he stood lost in wonderment, Uncertain where to go, he heard footsteps and familiar voices near. He gave the call of his old patrol, and Billy answered it immediately.

The next minute, Billy rushed into view, and the two chums were reunited in a vigorous bear-hug of sheer, silent rejoicing. They found words at last.

"Billy, old scout, I was beginning to think I might never see you again!"

"You were? Why, Hugh, I'd have looked for you from here to Yucatan and back again, twenty times over, by sea and land, before I'd give up!" cried Billy, forgetting in his enthusiasm how near he had come to the verge of despair.

"I'm dying to know whatever happened to you," he added. "But here come the rest of the bunch; so you'll have to tell all of us your story."

"It's soon told," said Hugh; and after joyful greetings had been exchanged, he told them all that had happened to him since his unlucky morning stroll to the hut on the far-away beach.