CHAPTER IX.
"FIFTY DOLLARS TO THE MAN THAT GETS THEM!"
The newcomer was Captain Rangler.
He was descending into the hold to get the pistols he had barely finished cleaning and loading, when the preparations for anchoring brought a hurry call for him to go on deck.
His amazement at seeing both the lads free of their handcuffs, and defiantly pointing the pistols at his head, may be imagined.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he exclaimed, pausing on the third step. "What under the North Star does this mean?"
"It means that you must set us free at once," spoke up Jack. "We are at anchor now. Send us ashore in a boat."
"And what if I don't?" demanded the captain. His voice seemed to hold more of curiosity than the ferocity the boys had been prepared for.
The question was rather a puzzling one, and caught the lads at a disadvantage. They had calculated on meeting with resistance. Instead, the captain of the tug, while appearing to be much astonished at their cleverness in escaping from their captivity, didn't seem to be in any way inclined to offer them violence.
Instead, he sat down deliberately on one of the steps, while both boys, rather perturbed in mind, kept their pistols steadily leveled. But their hands were shaky. They had been prepared for anything but this, and it took them aback.
"Well?" said Captain Rangler.
He drew a pipe from his mouth, and leisurely filled and lighted it before Jack found words to reply.
"Are you going to set us ashore?" he questioned in as determined a voice as he could summon.
"Certainly we are," was the astonishing reply. "What's the matter with you kids, anyhow?"
"What did you lock us in that hold for, and almost starve us and nearly let us die of thirst in that foul hole?" choked out Sandy.
Captain Rangler assumed a cleverly imitated look of astonishment.
"Were you locked up in there?" he demanded.
"Of course we were; as if you didn't know it," blurted out Jack.
"Now, now, just hold your horses," counseled the captain. "If you were locked in there, I knew nothing of it. Dampier and Walstein promised me no violence would be offered you if I kidnapped you for them."
"Oh, so you do admit capturing us on that lumber dock at Rockport?" sarcastically inquired Sandy.
"Of course I do; I can't deny that," said the captain with cool effrontery, "but Dampier and Walstein spun me a yarn about you being two runaway sons of some relatives of theirs and that you had stolen quite a sum of money."
"In that case then, you ought to be our friend," struck in Jack. "We are not runaways at all, but lads out on a pleasure trip, and besides, Dampier and Walstein are old enemies of my uncle. They think he wronged them, and are taking this means of avenging themselves."
"Humph," said the captain thoughtfully, emitting a cloud of blue smoke from his lips, "so them two fellers wasn't telling me the truth either, eh?"
"Of course not. They are two of the biggest rascals at large. They——"
Jack got no further. A strong arm was thrown about him from behind. At the same instant Sandy was tripped and thrown flat. The captain burst into a roar of laughter, and sprang down the stairs toward them. His smoking of the pipe had been a signal to those above that all was not well below, and Dampier and Walstein had silently descended by another way, and, sneaking through the hold, had accomplished this disastrous rear attack. Captain Rangler, as the lads might have guessed, had been merely talking against time, to allow his accomplices to descend into the cabin from another direction. The column of smoke from his pipe, curling out of the companion-way, had done its duty well—too well.
But both Jack and Sandy were strong, wiry lads. Though their activity had been much impaired by the hardships they had gone through during the night, there was still a lot of fight left in them, as their attackers soon discovered.
With a quick twist, Jack freed himself from Dampier, and thrust the pistol—which he still held—into the rascal's face. Dampier, who was an arrant coward at heart, as are most men of his stripe, shrank back. His face was a sickly, pasty yellow.
"D-d-d-d-don't shoot!" he begged, trembling.
Jack looked as fierce as he could, and flourished his pistol at Walstein, who was struggling with Sandy.
The leonine-headed ex-sea captain took the hint, and joined Dampier in begging the lad not to shoot.
But, in the excitement of this dramatic scene, Jack had forgotten all about Captain Rangler. As Walstein relaxed his hold on Sandy, Rangler jumped forward, aiming a terrific blow at Jack's head. The lad ducked just in time, and the huge, knotted fist whistled harmlessly over his head.
At the same instant, Sandy, with quick-witted comprehension of the requirements of the situation, dashed straight at Captain Rangler before that worthy could recover from the astonishment of his missed blow. Straight between the giant's legs hurtled Sandy's agile red-headed form. Caught all unawares, Captain Rangler went down with a crash. His great weight, as he fell, caused the cabin table to collapse, and brought the whole thing down in a pile of wreckage.
"Quick, Jack, before they recover their wits!" exclaimed Sandy, dashing for the companionway.
Jack sprinted after him. Up they dashed, three steps at a time, and before the group below recovered from their astonishment, the two lads had gained the deck.
Apparently nobody had heard the noise of the struggle, for the deck was deserted.
"What now?" asked Jack pantingly, as they paused, undecided for an instant.
"See, there's a boat astern. We'll make for that!" shouted Sandy, heading off at top speed.
The tug lay at anchor about a hundred yards off a well-timbered shore. As well as the boys could judge in their haste, the anchorage was in a sort of steeply-walled cove. But they hadn't much time to take in details as they ran.
"What are you going to do?" panted Jack, as they sprinted past the smokestack.
"Get in that boat and row ashore. It's our only chance. They'll half kill us if they capture us again."
"But—but suppose it's an island and there are no folks living there?"
"We must chance that. Come on now! Over this rail and drop into the boat. We——"
"Hold on there, young fellows! Where are you coming to?"
The burly form of a sailor, who had been taking a nap in the boat tied astern, suddenly upreared itself from the stern sheets, just as the lads had their legs over the rail and were prepared to drop into it.
"We have orders from the captain to go ashore instantly," spoke Sandy swiftly.
"Ah! Get out with that gammon," was the disconcerting reply, "you're the two kids we catched in Rockport. You—
"Catch those boys! Hold them!"
"Fifty dollars to the man that gets them!"
"Don't let them escape!"
Uttering these and similar cries, Walstein, Dampier and Captain Rangler came pouring out of the companionway in the bow. At the same instant half a dozen sailors appeared, as if by magic, from various spots where they had been taking quiet naps.
The sailor in the boat comprehended instantly.
"Get back!" he ordered gruffly, "you've escaped. You've got no——"
The rest of his words were lost to posterity forever, for Sandy had dropped nimbly into the boat, followed by Jack. Their sudden weight tipped it to one side.
The sailor, who had been standing erect, toppled over with a splash and a yell.
"Pull! Pull for your life!" shouted Sandy.
"Pull! pull for your life!" shouted Sandy, laying hold of an oar. Jack needed no second order, but picked up another. Both lads tugged away for dear life. In the meantime, the sailor, who could swim well, had laid hold of a rope and pulled himself back on board the tug.
The lads had not got a dozen yards from the tug's side before Walstein's voice came across the water:
"Come back to the tug instantly!" he yelled from where he stood, amidst quite a crowd of the crew at the stern of the craft.
"We're in a hurry, thank you!" hailed back Sandy, defiantly.
"See you some other time," called Jack, equally recklessly. The spirit of their exciting dash was in their veins. Both boys would have faced anything rather than return to the tug just then.
"We'll be ashore in a few minutes," encouraged Sandy as they pulled at the oars till the stout ash wood bent like whalebone.
"I rather guess we—" Jack began, when something happened to cut him short.
That "something" was a shower of bullets that pattered all about them. In their haste they had not reckoned on this.
"Better stop rowing," yelled Walstein's bellowing voice, "the next ones are going to hit closer.”