# The Missing Chums/Chapter 21

CHAPTER XXI
At the Island
In the meantime, what of Chet Morton and Biff Hooper?
When they took the wrong turn in the trail it was some time before they realized that the Hardy boys were not running along before them. They were blundering along through the undergrowth, in complete darkness, trusting to their chums to guide them through, when finally Chet stopped, panting.
"Frank and Joe must be running like deer," he muttered. "I can't hear them at all."
"We were all mighty close together a little while ago," returned Biff.
"I know. And they seem to have disappeared all of a sudden." The thought struck Chet that they might be on the wrong trail. "Do you think we could have taken a wrong turn?"
Biff listened. "There's no one ahead of us, that's sure," he said at last. "We must have got separated."
​As this conviction forced itself upon them, the two lads were overwhelmed with disappointment. They knew that the Hardy boys would have little enough time to gain the boat and escape without waiting for them, and at the thought that they might be again left on the island at the mercy of their captors they were profoundly discouraged.
"We're up against it again, I guess," declared Chet. "Well, I think we'd better follow this trail anyway, wherever it leads to. Remember what Frank said—that if even one of us reached the boat safely he could get to the mainland and bring back help for the rest."
"Yes, that's right. It isn't as bad as it might be."
"I only hope the gang don't capture them before they make the boat safely. Listen!"
They stopped in their tracks and listened as the night wind bore to their ears the sound of gunfire from the beach. It was far over to one side of them. They could hear distant shouts, then the spasmodic firing of revolvers followed again.
"They must be having a sweet time. I guess the gang are trying to keep them from getting the boat," said Chet.
Then they heard the muffled roar of the motorboat in the cove.
"They're getting away!" declared Biff, in ​excitement. "You can hear the boat backing out."
More revolver shots—more shouts—the roar of the Sleuth's engine continued.
"As long as they get away safely I'm not worrying much," Chet said. "Just the same, I'd rather be with them. But they'll bring back help."
"In the meantime, the best thing we can do is to hide."
"The gang will be scouring the island for us now that they know we didn't get away with the others. And they won't be any too gentle with us either, if they get us."
Chet and Biff decided that it would be best to get as near the shore as possible before concealing themselves, so as to be ready for a rush to safety should the Hardy boys return with the promised assistance. By the sound of the motorboat and the shooting, they judged that the narrow trail led toward the shore, so they followed it as well as they could in the darkness. The wet branches slashed their faces and they stumbled over roots and slipped in the wet, deep grass, but gradually the sound of the breaking surf drew closer and they knew they were coming nearer to the beach.
The path suddenly dipped and they descended a slope, finally emerging from the trees to find themselves on a rocky hillside overlooking the ​gray shore. They could see the white foam of the breaking rollers, and the gray rocks below but there was no sign of motorboat or of any human being.
"We may as well stay right on this hillside, behind the rocks," Chet suggested. "If we go roaming about the shore we're likely to run into Red and his gang."
"Perhaps they've taken their own boats and gone after the Hardy boys."
"They may have. But we can't take a chance on it. If any of them are prowling around it would be just our luck to meet them."
The chums made themselves as comfortable as possible in the shelter of a huge rock, from which they had a good view of the shore and the sea beyond. It was still dark and they had little hope of rescue before morning.
"It'll take them quite a while to get to the mainland and rouse any one to come out here to help us," remarked Chet. "The big thing is for us to keep hidden until daylight and then lay low until we see a chance of rescue."
"You can trust me to lay low. I've no hankering to be dragged back to that cave again."
"Me neither."
The boys lapsed into silence. They realized that conversation was dangerous. At any moment some member of the gang might be ​venturing near and might hear their voices.
From a distant side of the island they suddenly heard more shots. They broke out in a perfect fusillade of gunfire, and the rocks flung back the echoes, mingled with yells of rage. At the same time, they again heard the sound of the Sleuth's engine, slower this time, as though the craft were but crawling along.
"I can't understand this," said Chet. "We heard them leave the cove a little while ago. Now they're away down the shore and going slow."
"Perhaps they're having engine trouble," said Biff mournfully.
"I can't figure it out at all. It's tough to be sitting here in the dark, not knowing whether they've got away or not."
"I don't dare let myself think they haven't got away," declared Biff, with determination.
An hour passed. The sounds of the motorboat had long since died away. Once in a while the chums heard voices back in the grove and they knew that at least some of the gangsters had been left on the island. Whether the others had left in pursuit of the Hardy boys, they could not tell. Had they known of the Hardys' coup in taking the gangsters' two boats they would have felt more relieved in mind. The chill of approaching morning had settled over the island, and they huddled to​gether in the shelter of the rock, seeking warmth.
Suddenly, from the sea, they heard the steady chug-chug of a motorboat that seemed to be progressing slowly along in close proximity to the shore. They looked out and they could see a headlight slowly moving through the darkness.
"It's a motorboat, but it's traveling very slowly," said Chet.
"Let's take a chance and hail them."
"It might be some of the gang."
"That's right. But we can go down closer to the shore and see. It may be Frank and Joe looking for us."
The two lads left the shelter of the rocks and began moving cautiously toward the beach. They realized that there was every chance that the mysterious craft might be one of the gangsters' boats and that they would be risking recapture by making their presence known. But, on the other hand, it might be the Hardy boys returning in an effort to pick them up.
They had gone no more than a few yards when a loud voice only a short distance away made them jump with surprise:
"Is that one of our boats, Pete?"
"No. I don't know it at all. There's something funny about this."
A rock clattered down the slope. Chet looked ​back. Two dark figures appeared in sight at the top of the declivity.
The two parties saw one another at the same time.
"Here they are!" roared one of the men, and he plunged down the slope straight at the astonished boys.
The other man came running after him. The first impulse of the two chums was to run, but they saw that flight would be useless. They were midway on the hillside leading to the beach and the path was treacherous with rocks and loose gravel. They would be overtaken in a moment.
"Fight 'em!" said Chet, gritting his teeth.
The boys stood their ground. The two gangsters, one of whom they recognized as Pete, came floundering down the slope. They had started out in such a rush that now they were not well able to stop, and as the pair came at them the two chums braced themselves for the shock.
Biff met the first man squarely. His passion for boxing now stood him in good stead. He judged his distance perfectly. As the fellow came at him, arms swinging, he drove a straight left to the fellow's midriff.
The gangster gasped and doubled up with pain. He wavered for a moment, then Biff swung. His right fist crashed against the ​man's jaw, and the gangster toppled over on his face. He rolled over in the gravel a few times, then came to a stop, sprawled senseless on the hillside.
As for Chet, he made use of strategy. When the second man rushed at him he sidestepped neatly.
His right foot went out. The gangster tripped over it and, so great had been the force of his rush and so sudden was his downfall, that he went ploughing forward on his face for several yards until he came to a ledge of rock. He made frantic efforts to save himself as he felt that he was going over the side, but his descent could not be checked. Chet had a glimpse of desperately waving arms and kicking legs; then his adversary disappeared with a crash. The ledge was only a few feet from the beach, but it was certain that the fall would knock the breath out of the gangster's body for several minutes at least.
Without another word the boys scrambled back up the hillside. They knew that the gangsters would recover quickly and that the alarm would soon be sounded. They must hide, and that quickly.
They gained the shelter of the bushes just as the gangster who had gone tumbling over the ledge began to find his breath again and shout for help. Desperately, the boys ​scrambled through the undergrowth, seeking no path, seeking only a hiding place.
At length, when they were in a dense thicket where the branches were so closely entwined that further progress seemed impossible, they halted.
"This is as far as we can go," panted Chet. "They'll be searching for us now, but they'll never find us in here."
"That was a narrow escape!"
"It sure was. But we gave them something to remember us by."
Biff Hooper doubled up his fist with satisfaction.
"I knocked my man colder than a sardine," he declared.
It was nearing dawn. The first faint streaks of light were appearing in the eastern sky.
"I wonder where that boat went," said Chet suddenly. "Perhaps it's still near the island."
"It wasn't one of the boats belonging to the gang, anyway, by the way those two fellows were talking. If we could get a hiding place a little nearer the shore we might be able to see it."
"Yes—let's get out of this thicket."
Quietly, the boys began to withdraw from the deep thicket in which they had become entangled. But the branches cracked underfoot and seemed to have the brittleness of match​wood. The chums were afraid they would be heard.
"Better stay where we are," muttered Chet.
They remained motionless for some time, and the swift dawn soon began to paint the sky. The darkness diminished and the boys could now see one another plainly, and could see the extent of the deep thicket in which they had become enmeshed.
"Now let's try to get out," said Chet.
Again they attempted to make their way out of the thicket, and this time, because they could see what they were doing, their efforts met with more success. But they could not avoid making considerable noise, and the crackling of branches seemed like the reports of rifles.
Then, to their horror, they heard a voice:
"I heard a noise in the bushes over there almost an hour ago, and now I hear it again."
"We'll go over and see," replied another voice.
The boys looked at one another, then froze into silence. They could hear heavy footfalls near by. Branches crackled.
"They're hiding around on this side of the island somewhere," said the first voice. "If I ever lay my hands on 'em—"
Chet put his finger to his lips as a warning to silence, but there was no need. Biff was scarcely daring to breathe.
​Just at that moment a sound broke forth that sent a thrill of fear through them both.
It was a sibilant, terrifying hiss, right at their feet.
Chet looked down and gave a low cry. A huge blacksnake was coiled in the grass, in readiness to strike.