Budd gave him directions how to find the leading hotel, and then cast off the fastenings of the sloop and sped away for the island.

Promptly at one o'clock he was at the village, and as he took Mr. Wilson on board he asked if he should run down and take the gentleman's skiff in tow; for, expecting to do this, he had left his own yawl with Judd.

"No, never mind that; it isn't worth taking with us," replied Mr.

Wilson.

Budd thought it a little strange, but had not the slightest suspicion that the skiff was not the property of the stranger, and that his story about crossing over in it that morning was a sheer fabrication.

There was another statement in the man's story that would have seemed very strange to Budd had he only thought of it. He had stated that he and his party had been camping out on Patience Island for a week; yet the island was small, and Budd had himself been down by it but five days before, and at that time there was no sign of a camping-party upon it.

But utterly unconscious of the man's falsehoods, the lad sailed straight on into what was destined to be the most trying experience through which he had yet pa.s.sed.

The gentleman chatted away pleasantly as he sat by Budd in the stern of the sloop. He asked questions about the islands and the main-land they were pa.s.sing. He wanted to know how long before they would reach Patience Island, and how long it would take to run out to Block Island with that breeze. He a.s.sured Budd his companions would have everything packed on their arrival, and there would be no unnecessary delay in starting on their long trip.

As they neared the island of their destination he informed the lad that the camp had been on the east side, and on running around the south end, Budd saw, no great distance away, the place of the encampment. It was true the tent was down, and the boxes and bags were piled close by the sh.o.r.e, but this was just as Mr. Wilson had said it would be; and when four men came out from behind a large rock, and walked down to the heap of stuff, Budd said:

"They are ready and waiting for us, it seems, Mr. Wilson; but I can't get in to the sh.o.r.e with the sloop, and how will you get your goods on board? You ought to have brought your skiff."

"They have a boat, a better one; that's why I left the other," said he; "but run in as close as you can and anchor, and I'll tell them to load up and come on board."

Not a shadow of the coming evil was as yet apparent to the unsuspicious boy. Giving his whole attention to his sloop, he only cast the merest glance at the men on sh.o.r.e until he had anch.o.r.ed. At liberty now, however, he looked steadily at the men, to whom Mr. Wilson was already shouting. Then he gave a sharp cry of alarm, and drawing his pocket-knife he sprung forward to cut the anchor-cable. His words were:

"Gracious! There is Bagsley, and you are the robbers!"

But quick as he was, Mr. Wilson was quicker. Springing upon the lad, he bore him down upon the forward deck and called loudly for help. Two of the men on sh.o.r.e jumped into a yawl that lay hidden behind a projecting rock, and without stopping to load their stuff pushed out to the sloop.

One of the men was Bagsley himself, and when he had a.s.sisted Mr. Wilson in tying the lad, hand and foot, he gave a look at him, and then with a terrible oath exclaimed:

"It is Budd Boyd! Where did you run in with him?"

Mr. Wilson briefly explained how he had hired the boy, not supposing for an instant that he knew any of the gang. "But," he went on, "the moment the lad caught sight of you he called your name, and said we were the robbers. He then tried to cut the anchor-cable, but I spoiled that little game. The question is, what shall we do with him?"

"Tie a big stone to his neck and to his feet and drop him overboard,"

answered Bagsley. "I told him I'd kill him the next time I saw him.

He'll be sure to give us away, too, if we let him go, and our only safety is to put him out of the way."

Budd, as he lay bound only a few feet away, shuddered at the coolness with which the villain said these words, and felt that his very moments were numbered. To his surprise, however, the man who had come off from the sh.o.r.e with Bagsley, and whom he recognized as the leader of the gang when they were at Fox Island, said:

"No, there is to be no murder, boys, as long as we can get along without it. Put the boy into the yawl and take him ash.o.r.e. We'll change our plans, and put him where he cannot give any alarm until we are out of all danger."

Wilson and Bagsley lifted the lad into the boat, and the captain following them, they rowed ash.o.r.e.

A hurried consultation was now held, but in such low tones that Budd could only catch here and there a word. He was able to recognize, however, in one of the two men who had remained on the island while the captain and Bagsley came to Wilson's help, the third man of the trio that had been at his home. The other man, like Wilson, was a stranger, and had evidently joined the gang since the time of that visitation.

After awhile he caught the words of the leader of the party:

"I tell you, boys, that is the only safe way for us to do. As we'll fix the lad, he can't get away for a day or two, perhaps longer, and by that time we will be where he cannot harm us."

"If he ever gets away he'll mark me for this affair, and will leave no stone unturned till I'm found," said Bagsley, moodily.

"I think even you will be satisfied with the way we'll fix him," laughed the leader. "Untie his feet, get another rope, and bring him on."

Bagsley obeyed with alacrity, and the captain led the way over into the center of the island where a small depression in the surface cut off all view of the bay. A tree stood very near the lowest point of the hollow, and standing Budd up against the trunk of this, the captain, with Bagsley's help, tied him so firmly to it that there seemed no possibility of his untying himself.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The captain with Bagsley's help tied Budd so firmly to the tree that there seemed no possibility of his untying himself.]

"There, Bagsley," the leader now said, stepping off a few feet to view the lad, "he is where he can see no one, and no one can see him. He may possibly attract the attention of some pa.s.sing boat by hallooing, but it is a mere chance. He may possibly untie himself after awhile, but that, too, is a mere possibility. His friends, searching for him, will go to Block Island first; and if, after awhile, they think of coming here, they may be in time to rescue him, and they may not. Still you and I don't know that he will die here, and our consciences need not be troubled with any thoughts of his murder, for we know, and can make oath to it, that we left him here alive and in good health; only, his opportunities for locomotion are exceedingly limited."

With this heartless remark the two villains walked slowly away, leaving Budd to his uncertain fate.

CHAPTER XVI.--JUDD MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.

An hour or so after Budd had sailed away from Fox Island to meet Mr.

Wilson at the village and go on the prearranged trip, Judd got into the yawl and started down the bay to visit the fish-pounds. Some impulse came to him, as he rowed along, to first visit (though it was contrary to their usual way of doing) the pound over on the sh.o.r.e of Conanicut Island. Just before reaching it he happened to glance up the bay, and saw the Sea Witch tacking down toward him.

"Budd will get down along here before I leave the pound," he remarked to himself, "and I'll hail him and find out what time he expects to get back to-night."

Then he rowed leisurely on to the pound and began his work. It was no easy job to handle the seine alone; and for those readers who are not familiar with this fish-trap, so common to the New England coast, we will accompany Judd in his task.

It is low tide, and thus the very best time for the work, as the net is now fully exposed to view, and can therefore be the more readily examined for any breaks, and all foreign substances that have collected in its meshes can be the more easily discovered and removed. The various times of day, then, at which the young firm have heretofore been represented as visiting the pounds were not a mere matter of choice on their part, but were the times that the ebbing tide had made it best to do so, and it is the same reason that has brought Judd here just at this hour.

He rows in to the first stake, just a few feet below low-water mark, where his leader begins. Slowly along this he works his way toward the pound, five hundred feet off sh.o.r.e. He sees that every stake is still firm, and that the net is stretched tautly between the posts; that the sinkers are still holding its lower edge down to the bottom of the bay, and that its upper edge is properly attached to the top of each stake.

Here and there he pulls away a bunch of seaweed, or some floating log or plank that the tide has brought up against the net, and which, if allowed to remain there, might under a heavy sea do great damage to the leader. By and by he has reached the great circular pound or trap, which, like a tremendous basin, rounds out each way from his lead-line; and now the hard work begins. Round and round the basin he goes, pulling here and pulling there, all the while drawing the great purse into a smaller circ.u.mference, and nearer to the surface. The splashing and boiling water within, here and there the flash of a fin, and then a tremendous surge to the right or the left, as the case may be, tell of the fish imprisoned in the seine.

More than once Judd wishes for his partner's strong arm to help him; more than once the struggling ma.s.s of fish pull back into the deep all the slack seine, compelling the lad to do his work over again; but at last he is successful, and the fish are bagged into a corner of the net, and held there so firmly that there is no possible escape. The scoop-net is now brought into play, and rapidly the fish are dipped up and emptied down into the bottom of the yawl. When the last one has been removed the great purse-net is again lowered into the water, and the openings at each side of the leader, wide at the outer edge, but extremely narrow at the inner, are properly adjusted, and the work for that day is over--unless, indeed, some huge rent in the meshes of the seine compel it to be loosened from its stakes and carried ash.o.r.e for extensive repairs.

This time there is no rent, and Judd has about got the net into its place, when, glancing up, he sees that the next tack of the Sea Witch will bring her down near him. Adjusting the net here and there, he waits for her approach. Ten minutes later she is evidently as near to him as she is coming, for her tiller is thrown about, and slowly she swings around for the next tack. He raises his hands to his mouth, like a trumpet, and is about to utter a prolonged whoop, to attract Budd's attention; but no sound issues from his lips. Instead, he drops his hands, catches hold of the net, pulls his yawl rapidly around to the leader, and then works along it toward the sh.o.r.e.

Why is this sudden change? Because, as the sail of the Sea Witch swung slowly around for the reverse tack, he saw Budd was not on board. Nor was this all. In three of those pa.s.sengers he recognized Bagsley and his two companions when at Fox Island eight or ten days before, and like a flash it comes to him that Budd is a prisoner, and the robbers are running away with the sloop.

As he works his way to the sh.o.r.e he watches the sloop furtively, to be sure that his action has not awakened any suspicion on the part of the men in her; but he knows there is little danger of this, for though he recognizes them, they are not likely to think that he, who is at work so innocently there by that fish-trap, is the other owner of the boat, and has already divined their purpose.

Not too fast, so as not to specially attract their attention, he goes along the leader, stopping just an instant now and then in mere pretense to adjust the netting. But the moment their tack has taken the sloop so far across the bay that his movements cannot be readily discerned, he suddenly becomes the very embodiment of activity and purpose.

Two or three vigorous pulls send the yawl insh.o.r.e, where it is promptly secured beyond the reach of a rising tide, for Judd has no idea just when he will come to claim it again. Even the fish are forgotten as the boy runs rapidly up the west slope of the island to the nearest farm-house; and he gives a cry of joy, as he reaches it, to find the farmer, with whom he is slightly acquainted, just driving his horse and wagon out of the yard.

"Are you going down to Jamestown Ferry, Mr. Niles?" he eagerly asks.

"Yes, jump in," replies the kind-hearted farmer.

Judd waits for no second invitation, but springing into the wagon, he points off to the west bay, saying:

"Do you see that sloop over under the west sh.o.r.e, Mr. Niles?"

"Yes," replies he, "and it looks like yours."

"It is; and a gang of fellows are running off with her, and I wish you would get me to the ferry about as quick as you can. I want to get over to Newport, hire a tug, and head them off before they reach Beaver Tail, if possible. I'll pay you whatever you ask for driving me down there,"