The Radio Boys in the Thousand Islands Part 23

"All right, then, let me tell you something more," said the spokesman of the strange quartet, whose self-confidence and courage seemed to be on the increase. "Do you see that stake there?"--indicating the visible end of a piece of wood similar to a guy-rope stake, that had been driven into the ground at a point midway between the two hostile conferees.

"I see it very plainly," Mr. Baker replied.

"Do you know what it means?"

"I must confess my ignorance."

"Well, I have a surprise for you. There are other stakes driven about a hundred feet apart clear across this island east and west. That is the dividing line between the United States and Canada. You are a Canadian, ain't you?"

"I am."

"Well, that line there means that you are now in Canada and we are in the United States. If you come over here to take us you are invading the United States. If you shoot at us, you are shooting across the border line at citizens of the United States. I defy you to commit any such act."

Mr. Baker was "almost taken off his feet" by the shrewdness of this argument, and for several moments he was unable to make any intelligent reply. Cub also was nonplused at the "international situation". However, the ludicrous element of the affair did not escape them, and presently Mr. Baker was hurling the following heated rejoinder at the spokesman of the unfriendly four:

"Now, see here, my fine fellow, I'm not going to listen to this nonsense any longer. My son has been kidnapped by you scoundrels, and I am a desperate man right now. I am in a mood at this moment to snap my fingers at international lines, if what you say is the truth. I don't care to dispute your word on so flimsy a subject. But here is the only compromise I am willing to make with you. One of you has got to stay here a prisoner until those boys are returned to us. I'm in dead earnest, believe me. If you try to escape, I'll shoot, and if necessary, I'll shoot to kill. Now you come right over here into Canada as quick as ever you know how, for if you don't, in a very few seconds I'm going to begin to shoot. I'm a good shot and my bullets will hit your feet first. Your companions may go and as soon as they bring back those three missing boys you may go, too.

Now, come along into Canada. Hurry up, I'm going to count ten, and if you're still over there in the United States contaminating the soil and atmosphere of Uncle Sam with your impudence after I've stopped counting, I'm going to begin to shoot. If I have to bring you over into Canada, you'll come on a stretcher--see? Now I'll begin to count--one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight--"

The brave spokesman of the unwelcome visitors collapsed at Number 8 and shuffled rapidly toward the counter with the automatic pistol. His three companions, inspired, no doubt, with an eagerness commensurate with his panic, broke into a run and soon disappeared in the thicket at the rear of the camp.

"You'd better call after your friends and remind them that it's up to them to bring those boys back or your fate hangs by a thread," Mr.

Baker advised as he proceeded to examine the fellow's pockets for dangerous weapons.

But the prisoner was either too sullen or too much frightened to respond to any suggestion requiring the exercise of wits. He merely obeyed clear-cut orders and turned a deaf ear to all other utterances on the part of his captors.

"We'd better secure him so that there'll be no chance of his getting away," Cub suggested. "There are some pieces of guy-rope in the tent.

I'll get them and we'll fix him in a condition of safety."

Accordingly he went into the tent and a moment later reappeared with two pieces of rope, the strands of which he unplaited and knotted together, end to end, and then tested the knots by straining them across his knee.

"Now, we're ready," he said, addressing the prisoner. "Turn around and put your hands together behind you. There, that's right. I'll try not to be too cruel, but I must tie this rope pretty tight. Holler if it tortures you, but I must be the judge as to whether you can stand it.

There, you won't be able to do any mischief with your hands. Now, come on; well go into the tent and take care of your lower extremities, as you know we couldn't afford to let you walk away. We have to hold you for ransom, you know, and the ransom is three healthy, uninjured boys."

The prisoner obeyed without a word, and a few moments later he was tied on the ground in the tent with legs also securely bound.

"Now, I'll proceed to report developments to our radio friend at Rockport," Cub announced as he and Mr. Baker came out in the open again.

With these words he sat down at the table, donned the phone headpiece and began to work the key. He had no difficulty in getting into communication with the Canadian amateur again, and gave him a detailed account of what had taken place since his last report of earlier developments.

"My father is on the way alone in the Catwhisker, bound for Rockport,"

the boy added after finis.h.i.+ng his account of the dispute with the professed owners of the island. "Can you get word to him of what has happened? Tell him to come back with a few armed men as soon as possible."

"I will run down to the docks and meet him," returned Max. "Maybe I will come along."

That ended their code conversation for the time being, and Max started at a brisk pace for the munic.i.p.al docks.

Meanwhile, Mr. Baker and Cub kept an alert watch over their prisoner and the camp in general to guard against a surprise, for they were not unmindful of the danger of an attempt on the part of the three departed visitors to overthrow the advantage the man and the boy had gained through the instrumentality of two dangerous weapons. But soon they found time dragging heavily on their hands, so that it is no wonder that before long they began to cast about them for something to do that would add to the small degree of hopefulness of their situation.

"Let's bring that fellow out here and see what we can get out of him,"

Cub proposed at last. "Maybe we can induce him to tell us something,"

"All right," Mr. Baker replied; "but we must not forget to keep a sharp lookout while we're quizzing him."

"You go in and bring him out, and I'll keep watch to prevent a surprise,"

Cub proposed.

This being agreeable to Mr. Baker, the plan was soon put into effect. The rope strands around the prisoner's ankles were removed and he was led out into the open. True to his resolve not to be caught napping, Cub now kept on the move and on the alert, describing a small circle around the position of the two men who were seated on camp chairs about twenty feet from the tent.

"I've brought you out here for a sociable chat," Mr. Baker explained, while Cub gave close attention in order that he might not lose a word. "I hope you'll be as sociable as I shall try to be, for if you're not, I shall have to take you back into the tent and shackle your feet again."

The fellow did not reply, although his silence could hardly be attributed to a spirit of sullenness.

"Maybe you'll tell me a little more than you were willing to tell me in the presence of your friends," Mr. Baker continued. "I'd like to know something about the business and a.s.sociations of you and your friends, so that we may know how to treat your demands. Now, rest a.s.sured that none of us has any desire to do any illegal trespa.s.sing, and as soon as you've proved to us that you own this island and that we are unwelcome on these premises, we'll get off and beg your pardon for our intrusion. But you don't seem to have established any camp here and you don't seem to be able to produce as much evidence of owners.h.i.+p as we can."

Mr. Baker now waited a few moments for a response to his introductory statement, but none came. The fellow seemed to be almost embarra.s.sed by the straightforward and well connected ideas of the man who addressed him.

"Well, let's see," Mr. Baker continued. "How can I present the matter so as to start you out right? Perhaps you will be willing to tell me who you are and what your business is. But first. I'll be fair and introduce myself. My Name is James C. Baker. I live in Port Hope, and my business is that of hay, grain and feed merchant. Now, will you tell me your name?

One of your friends called you Captain. Do you run a boat on the river?"

Whether the fellow was about to reply or would continue in stubborn silence may not be known, for the thus-far-one-sided conversation was suddenly interrupted by a shout of eager joy from the pacing boy sentinel.

"Oh, there they come, there they come," the latter shouted. "There are Hal and Bud."

Sure enough, two boys had just emerged from the narrow belt of bushes between the camp area and the only practical landing place of the island.

CHAPTER XXII

The "Crusoe Mystery" Deepens

"Now, where have you boys been? Did those men take you away? Where did they take you? Did you escape? How did you escape?"

This rapid-fire succession of questions was hurled by Cub at Hal and Bud as they approached the place where Mr. Baker was quizzing his prisoner under the protection of the boy sentinel against a surprise attack from the prisoner's friends. Some of these questions were encouraged by nods and smiles of a.s.sent to preceding interrogatories.

"Yes, yes, but one question at a time," Hal replied. "You're on the right track, Cub, but that isn't the way to get our story out of us. I see you have one of the rascals a prisoner. Keep him. He's the worst of the bunch."

The "rascal" winced at the characterization.

"Who are they, anyway," asked Cub. "What are they doing here? Do they own this island?"

"Now, you've added three more questions," Hal remarked with a smile, for he was much pleased at the opportunity to tease the tall and usually super-wise youth in something of the latter's characteristic manner. "We can't answer all your questions, Cub, but we know there's a mystery about this fellow and his friends, and I suppose we'll have to wait for your father's mathematics to solve it."

"Was it those four men who made prisoners of you?" inquired Cub, who, in his eagerness to get some definite information, resolved to ask one question at a time and pursue his inquiry in an orderly manner.

"Yes," Hal replied.