"I know my business, Mitch' Jenkins," he said. "They ain't a-goin' to give me the slip this time."

Then followed a tramp of about two miles to the point of the island where the slackers had left their bateau. Much of the route was covered with dense thicket and bramble-infested jungle, and the boys suffered.

Sometimes, when they stumbled and fell, or pushed through th.o.r.n.y brush, being unable to use their arms and hands, they received painful scratches or blows on face or head. Finally Ted rebelled, throwing himself down and persisting doggedly at all threatened costs.

"I won't go another step until you untie our hands," he declared, setting his teeth. "You can beat me if you are devil enough," he informed Jackson, with blazing eyes and unflinching calm, "but I won't budge."

Jackson swore furiously and lifted his foot to kick, but was checked by Jenkins, who said:

"And if you beat him, you may have to beat me."

Then the two men glared at and paid their respects to each other in unprintable language. Hubert hoped that they would fight hard and long, and that in the midst of it he and Ted might run away; but, as usual, the cowardice beneath Sweet Jackson's bullying exterior showed itself.

He discharged much violent language, but prudently declined the contest of physical strength offered by Jenkins.

"What did you come in this swamp for, anyhow?" he demanded. "You ain't worth a cent."

"You kin find out what I'm worth if you want to," goaded Jenkins.

"Oh, shucks!" cried Jackson, with a show of vast disgust; and taking out his knife, he cut both Ted's and Hubert's bonds, intimating that he washed his hands of the consequences.

After that peace was restored, the tramp was resumed, and more rapid progress was made.

XXI

They landed on Deserters' Island late in the afternoon. The news of their arrival appeared to reach the camp ahead of the captive boys, for as soon as they followed the upward path through the swamp-cane to the outskirts of the familiar clearing they saw July running to meet them.

The negro's smiling expressions of delight at sight of them were checked by his recollection that they were returning to captivity.

"I sho is sorry dey cotch you if I is glad to see you," he apologized.

"But, Cap'n Ted, you won't have such a hard time dis time 'cause de gen'l'mens is got back an' now de dawgs'll have to keep dey place."

Ted did not wait for an explanation of this mysterious announcement, for he now saw Buck Hardy standing near the sleeping-loft and ran eagerly toward him.

"Oh, Mr. Hardy," he cried, in enormous relief and satisfaction, "I'm _so_ glad to see you. We've had a terrible time since you left. I--I--I hope your mother is better."

Buck smiled down on the delighted boy, warmly clasping his hand.

"She's all right now, thank you, kid," he said. "Sorry I had to stay outside so long. Just got back two hours ago--with Peters and Jones. So you've had a terrible time, eh? July has been tellin' me, but he don't know it all, and I want to know it all up to this minute. Did Sweet Jackson do anything to you after he caught you? Did he--whip you--or----"

"He would have, if it hadn't been for Mr. Jenkins."

"Tell me all about it."

After walking into the clearing attended by the pleased and garrulous negro, Hubert shook hands with Al Peters and Bud Jones, but awaited his turn to speak to Buck Hardy, not wishing to interrupt the big slacker's earnest conversation with Ted. As he looked around, Hubert saw Billy seated a short distance away and wondered why he seemed to take no interest in their arrival. Judging from past experience, he would have expected the half-wit not only to be pleased but even to caper around him and Ted, giggling and shouting his expressions of gratification. But now Billy seemed to be intently contemplating some object in the gra.s.s at his feet and to be oblivious of everything else.

The news of the return of Hardy, Peters and Jones evidently reached Jackson before he came up from the landing, for when he appeared he had a conscious and depressed air. He spoke a perfunctory greeting to Peters and Jones and then, as he busied himself about the camp, his roving glance frequently returned in a stealthy sort of way to Buck Hardy where he stood questioning and listening to Ted. His manner was expectant and he probably was not surprised when Buck, turning from the boy toward the groups near the fire, called out:

"Sweet Jackson!"

Jackson pretended not to hear and sought to delay the coming reckoning.

"Billy! You Billy," he called sharply, "go bring me some fresh water."

The absorbed Billy looked up for a moment with an air of one rudely awakened from a dream, but he did not move and his eyes promptly returned to the object in the gra.s.s that seemed to fascinate him.

"Don't you hear me?" shouted Jackson.

"Don't you hear _me_?" shouted Buck. "Sweet Jackson, step out h-yuh and take yo' whippin'."

Jackson could pretend inattention no longer. Planning to force the other men to interfere while storming at Billy, he now whipped a revolver out of his pocket and wheeled round.

"Drop it," ordered Buck. "I've got you covered. I expected this and I was ready."

Two men rushed to Jackson's side, he permitted Zack James to take his weapon, and moved a step or two forward. Then Buck took his hand from the revolver in his coat pocket.

"What I done to you, Buck Hardy?" demanded Jackson with as bl.u.s.tering an air as he could support.

"Nothin'," answered Buck. "You know better'n to do anything to _me_.

It's what you've done to two helpless boys when I was gone. _You_ know what I'm talkin' about. I can be sorry for a natural-born coward. If I saw you runnin' from the draft officers and hollerin' that you wished you was a baby and a _gal_ baby at that, I'd be sorry for you. But I can't stand a man that's a coward underneath and a bully on top whenever he thinks there's n.o.body to stop him. I whipped you once for beatin' on that po' weak-minded Billy. This time it's for what you did to two as nice boys as there ever was. I'd whip you for it if every man in this camp stood behind you. But there ain't n.o.body to stand behind you because they all despise you."

This withering speech and his fear of certain punishment combined caused Jackson's lip to twitch nervously. He doubled his fists and prepared to ward off the coming blows, determining to strike back at the outset in order to lessen his disgrace by a stubborn show of fight. But, try to stand his ground as he might, he found himself retreating backward before his advancing enemy.

Before Hardy had arrived within striking distance Jackson had backed into Billy and trodden upon the half-wit's outstretched legs.

"Git out o' my way!" stormed the retreating man, glad to divert attention from himself.

Billy sprang up and jumped out of reach, as if believing that he had been attacked. Then he faced his supposed foe, a strange glow in his eyes.

Suddenly Sweet Jackson became aware that he was treading upon some soft living body, which yielded beneath his weight and struggled in a peculiar, writhing way. As his glance swept downward, he heard a harsh rattling sound and saw that he stood upon a large coiled snake.

The look of mortal terror on his face and his gasp of horror caused Buck Hardy to stop in his tracks, and several of the on-lookers to start forward, just as the rattler struck the unfortunate man on the right leg above the ankle. With a wild cry Jackson jumped--too late!

[Ill.u.s.tration: With a wild cry Jackson jumped--too late!]

A laugh at such a moment was the most unexpected and shocking thing in the world, and for the moment it drew every eye to Billy, who, giggling, cried out:

"That's right, son! Give it to him, son!"

Then Ted and Hubert and July comprehended what had happened before Jackson, in an agony of alarm, staggered out into the open, crying that he had been bitten by a rattlesnake and calling for help.

"I'm mighty glad I hadn't hit him," murmured Buck Hardy, as he joined those who, grabbing sticks and guns, started in pursuit of the snake which was now rapidly crawling away.

The rattler was quickly overtaken and killed, greatly to the indignation and sorrow of Billy. Then the attention of all was centered upon Jackson, who now sat with his back against a tree, tearing off shoe and sock in a hurried, terrified way, groaning aloud and shuddering in horror. The wound, when exposed, was seen to be swelling already.

"If anybody's got any whisky, for G.o.d's sake bring it out," shouted Buck Hardy.