The Outdoor Chums on the Gulf Part 20

came back the whispered answer.

"Now what about the boy you pulled off that craft?" asked Bluff.

"Come here, Joe," said Frank kindly.

Instantly he felt a hand clasping his eagerly, and a boyish voice exclaimed softly:

"Oh! I wanter thank you ever so much for what you did, and my mom'll say the same thing when she sees you!"

"That's all right, Joe. All of us are only boys, older than you, of course, but ready to hold out a helping hand to a poor chap in trouble.

Suppose you tell us, in a whisper now, what brought you aboard that sharpie. Who are those three men, and how did you happen to be sailing with them?"

"They're Hank, and Carlos, the Cuban, and my Uncle Ben," came the reply.

"h.e.l.lo! He's got an uncle aboard!" said Jerry uneasily.

"But he's the worst of the whole lot. He beats me, and calls me bad names. My mother is afraid of him. She didn't want to let me go on this trip with Uncle Ben, but he just made me. His name is Baxter. You see, he's her brother-in-law, not her real brother. I always called him uncle, but he ain't, either. I hate him, and I'd sooner die than go back there again!"

"Don't be afraid, my boy. We have no intention of letting them get you again. It happens that we're bound for Cedar Keys ourselves, and we'll see you safely home. Your mother lives there, you say?" went on Frank, patting the trembling little hand, with its hard palm, that told of much hard work for so young a lad.

"Yes, sir; but we're awful poor. We used to live in Pensacola when dad was on his job, but he got killed in his engine long ago. Then mother had a chance to do something in Cedar Keys, and we came on. But things went wrong, sister got sick, and it's been hard work to get enough to eat.

Still, my mother never complains; she ain't one of that kind; and a feller just has to be up and doin' somethin' to help out. That was why I came along when Uncle Ben promised good wages, and without letting her know."

It was a whole life story in a nutsh.e.l.l. Frank had never come so closely in touch with tragedy before. He continued to squeeze the hand he held, while deep down in his heart the generous fellow was making resolutions that would bring a little of suns.h.i.+ne to the Abercrombie home when they landed in the key city.

"Well, we'll have lots of time to talk all these things over to-morrow, and the other days to come. The rest of you pile off again, and leave me here to sit out my watch. I promise to awaken you if anything threatens us," he said finally.

A place was easily found for little Joe. Indeed, as Bluff remarked in a whisper, the motorboat seemed capable of expansion.

"Just like an elevator or an electric car, there's always room for just one more," was the way he put it.

Frank sat there, listening and thinking, for a couple of hours at least.

There was no alarm. Once he thought he heard sounds such as might be made by the movement of a push-pole; but if so, the searching party failed to locate the anch.o.r.ed motor-boat in its new lodgings.

Jerry took his place a little later, and then Bluff wound up the night, Will being allowed to sleep in peace.

Frank was up at peep of dawn. The masts of the sharpie stood up plainly through the dim light, showing that apparently her anchorage had not been changed at all.

Signs of life were to be seen aboard, and smoke arising from the cabin gave evidence that the three rough spongers were getting their frugal breakfast. Doubtless this caused them to vent their anger anew, for it had been a part of the boy's work to cook.

"The antic.i.p.ated storm petered out, anyway," remarked Jerry at his elbow.

"Which may be a good thing for us. Possibly we might want to get out of here in a hurry, although I'm averse to running away like a frightened duck," remarked Frank.

"I say stick it out, and give them t.i.t for tat. We're armed, and can make a pretty good showing," declared Bluff, also turning up after hearing voices.

So they began preparations for breakfast, Frank keeping an eye on the sharpie meanwhile. He expected that the trio of spongers would not be likely to pull out without some show of threatening the four who comprised the crew of the motor-boat.

Joe proved to be a bright-faced lad, once the grime was removed, under the influence of salt-water soap and a rough towel. All of the outdoor chums were glad that they had found a chance to be of service to one in distress, for Joe insisted that he never could have stood the vile treatment he was receiving, and meant to run away at the very first opportunity.

They were just sitting down to breakfast when Will gave the alarm.

"They're pulling up anchor, fellows, and hoisting sail. From the appearance of things, we'd better look out for squalls," he announced.

Each of the other three quietly reached around and seized a gun. Will, not to be outdone, picked up the instrument with which he did most of his shooting, his beloved camera, and waited for a chance to snap off the ugly faces of the spongers.

CHAPTER XVII

STUCK ON AN OYSTER BAR

"Do you think they'll attack us, Joe?" asked Jerry as the sharpie began to head straight for the anch.o.r.ed motor-boat.

"No, I don't. Them fellers is big cowards, and when they see the guns they'll take it out in talking," came the prompt answer.

"I believe Joe is right. They must be cowards, or they'd never have abused a boy as they did him. He showed me a lot of bruises from kicks he's had," observed Frank, with a gleam in his eye and a look on his face that told of his detestation for the brute who could, in a temper, knock a child down.

"Say! Perhaps it might be just as well to get the anchor up, and start the motor, in case we wanted to move, anyway," remarked Bluff.

"A hunky idea!" echoed Jerry.

Frank himself agreed to it. So while Jerry hastened to get the mudhook aboard, Frank bent down over the motor. They heard him crank it, and then came the merry and suggestive hum that bespoke business.

"Now, if we wanted, we could go spinning away, and laugh at them,"

observed Will.

"But we don't intend to, all the same," said Frank quietly, making his appearance again, gun in hand. The boat had moved a length or so, and then floated on the smooth water of the lagoon.

A shout from the sharpie had told that the spongers believed they meant to run off, and at the same time one of them was seen flouris.h.i.+ng a gun.

"Hold up, there, you rascals, you!" came across the water, and a shot followed, the bullet splas.h.i.+ng close to the motor-boat.

"Don't you try that again, there, or we'll give you a broadside! Do you hear?" shouted Frank, as he and his chums lifted their array of weapons so that the men could easily see what they were up against.

The sharpie kept pus.h.i.+ng on until close by. Then a sudden s.h.i.+fting of the rudder caused the boat with the tall masts to "come to" in the wind, with her dingy sails s.h.i.+vering as they hung there lifeless.

"We want that kid!" called a tall, gaunt man with a red beard.

"That's Uncle Ben!" exclaimed Joe, who was peeping over the gunwale.

"Well, you'll have to take it out in wanting, then, because you're not going to get him. Joe says you beat him. He prefers to stay with us, and we're going to take him home to his mother in Cedar Keys. Get that?"

called Frank.

The three men conferred together for a minute or two.

"Say! my breakfast's getting cold! I wish they'd hurry," remarked Bluff.