Boy Scouts in Southern Waters Part 38

"I'm a little afraid," Harrison dissented. "It looks bad."

"What looks bad? The two men may quarrel."

"There's always a possibility of that," agreed Harrison, "but I wasn't thinking of that. It looks to me that the sand will probably be softened by the rising tide. If so, they can't remain in the excavation to dig for the treasure at all. They must quit."

"If that happens, I can see some more dead n.i.g.g.e.rs," Tom a.s.serted. "That man Lopez seems to be itching to shoot someone. If he is foiled in his last desperate attempt to get that treasure, I can see trouble ahead for someone who is near him when it happens."

Wyckoff now came out of the hole to join Lopez on the rim of the crater made by the toiling negroes. Without saying a word he evidently asked Lopez for something to drink, for he made a motion as if drinking from a cup, Lopez without taking his eyes off the workers jerked his head in the direction of the boat.

"Now what?" asked Frank in wonderment. "Is he thirsty?"

"I don't think so," replied Arnold. "I believe he's going after something to stimulate the shovelers. They look as if they were getting a little winded. See them slacken down."

Wyckoff returned shortly carrying a jug. This he pa.s.sed down to the men in the pit. Eagerly they reached for the jug, draining great draughts of its contents as they paused briefly.

With renewed vigor the work was again taken up.

"If this keeps up," declared Arnold fretfully, "those fellows will have all the coin in a minute and not leave any for us."

"Keep your temper," Jack cautioned. "Something may happen--"

The lad was interrupted by a blinding flash, followed by a roar as if one of the old Spanish cannons had exploded beside them.

A shower of sand fell over the boys concealed behind the clump of palmettos. Instinctively they all drew closer their fellows.

The ground shook beneath them while all around it seemed to be raining sand. As they looked at the spot again they could make out but two figures standing. Wyckoff and Lopez were on opposite sides of the pit.

The negroes were nowhere to be seen.

Wyckoff's face was cut and bleeding while Lopez seemed to have had his clothing bodily torn from the upper part of his body.

"What do you know about that?" queried Jack. "What was it?"

"An earthquake," suggested Charley, "or a volcano."

"Volcano nothing," stoutly corrected Arnold. "That was the dynamite that Wyckoff planted on the Fortuna in Pascagoula and Jack stumbled over it and brought it here and we planted it a moment ago."

"I shouldn't wonder if you're right," agreed Harrison. "It must be that one of the negroes struck it just right with his shovel."

"But where are the negroes?" asked Frank.

"I can't see a one. How many were there in the first place?"

"Six," answered Tom. "I counted 'em. One was put out of the way by the villain Lopez. That left five in the pit."

"I wonder where they are now," speculated Harry. "They have gone out of sight anyhow. Maybe they're all killed."

"If they are, I wonder just how much we'll be at fault," Jack mused soberly. "I think we should have warned them that we had put the dynamite there," he added thoughtfully.

His words had a depressing effect upon the whole party. They felt keenly the possible responsibility for the death of the five men who had been striving to earn an honest dollar by hard work. Seeing the effect his expression was having upon his comrades, Jack endeavored to correct it, but the boys were all very sober.

Rowdy, who had been trying to make himself very small indeed, now emerged from his hiding place again to join the watchers.

"I wonder if the explosion has enlarged the hole any," Tom ventured. "If it has it may make the work lots easier for us."

"You speak as if we were going to be next on the program," Arnold laughed quietly. "Don't be too sure. Things may slip."

"Well," disputed Arnold, "suppose that Wyckoff doesn't do as Lopez wants him to do, what then? What's to hinder Lopez shooting Wyckoff and getting the treasure chest himself? Tell me that."

"How does that let us in?" queried Frank.

"Well, if they are down and out, don't we get busy?"

"I suppose so, but I believe this treasure has had enough blood spilled over it now. I'm getting rather scared about it."

"Look there," cried Jack in a tone that was almost audible to the two men at the pit. "It looks as if Wyckoff were going to dig. He's a plucky chap all right. We must give him credit for that."

Wyckoff had searched the vicinity and found a shovel. This he was now preparing to put to use. He was in the pit in another moment and began throwing the sand out. Then he paused!

"That sand's wet," declared Arnold, who had observed closely.

"Tide's away up and probably has seeped through the little sand intervening," declared Harrison. "I expected it."

"Why, look at him," hoa.r.s.ely urged Frank. "He seems to be floundering about. Can it be he's in trouble?"

"It would look that way," declared Tom. "I wonder why Lopez don't come to his rescue instead of standing there with his rifle."

"He isn't in any danger," declared Arnold. "He's just wading around in the soft sand that was loosened by the explosion."

"Don't you believe it," urged Tom rising to his feet. "I believe the man's in serious trouble. It looks like quicksand."

"If Lopez would let us, I'd be in favor of helping him."

"I'll tell you what I'll do," volunteered Tom. "I'll make a running noose in this line I brought along. You boys cover Lopez with your guns and I'll go as close as I can and la.s.so Wyckoff. We can all get hold of the line then and maybe we'll be able to pull him out. It wouldn't be right to leave him there to go down."

At that moment Wyckoff seemed to realize his danger. He was, indeed, caught in the treacherous quicksand. No doubt the sand had been loosened by the explosion to such an extent that although quiet heretofore, it was now "quick," and was working to draw into its depths any object unfortunate enough to be in its grasp.

Like a thing of life the sand sucked and pulled at Wyckoff's feet. He felt himself being drawn into the terrible danger.

"Help. Help," he cried, flinging his arms toward the firmer ground.

"Pete, give me a hand! I'm going down."

For answer Lopez flung his rifle up. A spurt of flame was his answer.

Horrified, the boys expected to see Wyckoff drop. To their amazement Lopez had missed. Then they saw Wyckoff throw his knife straight at Lopez. It struck the man in the forehead.