"Yes," snapped Lopez. "Now git to work at them oars and send this boat along or it'll be the worse for you."

Thus urged, the boys bent to the oars with renewed vigor. Their efforts sent the boat along at a rapid pace. Finally as they were becoming exhausted, Lopez commanded them to head directly in sh.o.r.e. They did so, but instead of running ash.o.r.e, shot up the entrance to a narrow bayou.

Inside, Lopez commanded them to lie flat in the bottom of the boat. They heard directly the sound of approaching oars.

"What's that coming, Lopez?" questioned Harry.

His answer was a thrust of Lopez's foot in his ribs and again he felt the muzzle of the rifle creep along his spine.

With the talk and laughter of their chums ringing in their ears, Harry and Arnold were compelled to lie silently in the scow, while the other party pa.s.sed them a second time that night without being aware of their presence.

"Looks like we better get up and go to work," announced their captor after the sound of the oars and talk from the other boatload had died away. "We've got a long ways to go yet," he added.

"Let's take it a little easier, if you please," requested Arnold. "My arms are nearly pulled out of their sockets."

"All right, my hearties, take your time now. I just wanted to get into clear while the others went past us," replied Lopez.

In a short time the boys were amongst the shipping on the river. Here they were directed to row alongside a deserted wharf. Lopez guarded them while they made the boat fast and then prepared to take them up into a rough looking quarter of the town. Just as they were preparing to leave the wharf a boat was heard approaching from down stream. Lopez stopped, then gave a peculiar whistle.

What was the boys' surprise to see Doright row up alongside the wharf, make fast his boat and come ash.o.r.e.

"Doright," Lopez commanded. "Youall come with me while I fix these young rascals and then I want you to come back here and take that shipyard man's scow back to him and take that skiff back to the shipyard, too.

Somebody might want them boats again."

"Yaas, sir, Boss," was Doright's unvarying reply.

The boys were marched a short distance up the deserted street to a disreputable looking shanty. Here they were forced inside and compelled to enter an inner room.

"Doright, get a piece of rope and tie these young fellers."

"Haint got no rope, Boss," announced Doright. "No rope here."

"What'll we tie 'em with?" inquired Lopez.

"Don't know, Boss," replied the darky. "Dey don't need tyin'."

"Oh no, they don't," Lopez replied sarcastically. "They didn't need it up in the woods, neither. That's why they burned my cabin down. Now I haint got no home no more'n a rabbit."

"Haint got no rope, Boss," dolefully declared Doright.

"Here, take this gun while I cut up their snake skin," cried Lopez, turning over to the negro his rifle.

He proceeded to remove from an inner pocket of his jacket the skin of the snake that had so nearly ended the life of Harry. Cutting this into strips he quickly bound the boys' arms and made them sit down on a bench. Next he prepared to leave the room, taking Doright also.

"If you are good boys and don't try to burn this place," he said from the doorway, "I'll bring you something to eat by and by."

After he had closed the door the boys sat talking over the events of the day. They were agreed that the day had been a most strenuous one and that a little sleep would be welcomed. As they prepared to lie on the floor for what rest they might get, Harry gave vent to a chuckle of laughter. Arnold was all attention.

"What is it, Harry?" he queried. "What's the joke?"

"If that man only knew what he had been missing, he wouldn't have gone away so cheerfully," replied Harry with another chuckle.

"I don't seem to get you," declared Arnold. "I think you might tell--"

He paused. "What was that noise?" he asked.

"I didn't hear any noise," replied Harry sitting up.

Through the wall came the plaintive cry, "Bob, Bob White."

CHAPTER XVII

WHAT BURNED IN THE CABIN

"Why, that's blasting gelatine," Jack declared. "One stick is enough to blow the Fortuna to pieces. Here are one, two, three, four, five, six--six sticks of high powered explosive lying right next to our engines. Where would the good ship have been if that stuff had let go? I tell you, fellows, this looks serious."

"Serious is no name for it," declared Tom. "I'm scared."

"Wonder where he got it?" mused Frank. "It's dangerous stuff for common folks to have. They don't sell it at the stores."

"No doubt he stole it from someone who is using it for stumping, or some such work as that. He couldn't buy it," said Tom.

"But look at this fuse," Jack cried. "It looks as if it had been lighted. Sure as you're a foot high it has been lighted."

"Why didn't the stuff go off then?" queried Tom.

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "I'm going to pull the end of the burned fuse out of this stick and see what's the matter."

Suiting the action to the word, Jack slowly extracted the end of the fuse from the stick of gelatine in which it had been thrust.

"Ha, Ha," he laughed with a motion as if to slap his thigh. Startled, he caught himself in time. The laughter died away.

"What's the matter, Jack?" inquired Frank.

"I almost dropped one of the sticks," replied Jack.

"Well, what of it?" innocently Tom suggested.

"Nothing of it," Jack gruffly responded. "At least, I might say nothing of the Fortuna and her crew if I had dropped one of the sticks. They're only about an inch in diameter and seven or eight inches long, but one of them is enough to blow this vessel into chunks and the six would have blown her to little pieces."

"But why would dropping it to the floor have done damage?" persisted Tom. "I thought it had to have fire to explode it."

"That's where you're wrong," Jack explained. "Most people have the same idea. Evidently that was also the idea of the villain who planted this stuff here, for he neglected to put a cap on his fuse."