# Snagged and Sunk/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX
TOM VISITS THE HATCHERY.
LET US now return to Tom Bigden, whom we last saw paddling disconsolately toward the camp where he had left his cousins, Ralph and Loren Farnsworth, a short half hour before. Tom had expected to spend a pleasant forenoon at the hatchery, taking lessons in fish-culture; but his interview with Matt Coyle had knocked that in the head. The squatter's astounding proposition, taken in connection with the dreadful things he had threatened to do in case his victim failed to comply with his demands, had opened Tom's eyes to the disagreeable fact that he had overreached himself by yielding to his insane desire to take vengeance on Joe Waring. He knew he could not enjoy himself at the hatchery with the fear of exposure and disgrace hanging over him, so he started for camp at his best paddling pace to ask Ralph and Loren what he should do about it.
"When a fellow like Matt Coyle can lay commands upon me and threaten me with punishment if I do not obey them—by gracious! Is it possible for me to get any lower down in the world? I wish I had never heard of that Joe Wayring. Every thing seems to go smoothly with him without an effort on his part, but, no matter how hard I try, every thing goes wrong with me. Did any body ever hear of such luck?"
Tom was angry now as well as frightened, and, what seemed strange to me when I heard of it, he blamed Joe Wayring, and not himself, for the troubles he had got into. He must have brought a very black face into camp with him, for when he ran the bow of his canoe upon the beach in front of the grove where Loren and Ralph were idling away the time in their hammocks the former called out:
"Hallo! who are you mad at now?"
"Everybody," snarled Tom. "Say, Ralph, you remember that after our interview with the squatter, on the day the constable drove him out of Mount Airy, you declared that you wouldn't have had it happen for any thing, don't you?"
"I remember it perfectly," replied Ralph. "I was afraid that trouble of some sort would grow out of it, and judging from the looks of your face my fears have been realized. What's up?"
"That was the first interview I held with Matt Coyle, but I am sorry to say it wasn't the last," continued Tom.
"Have you seen him to-day?" exclaimed Loren.
"I have, and I tell you he's got me in a box. But hold on a minute. I want to let you into a secret. It was I who put it into his head to steal Joe Wayring's canvas canoe."
"There," said Ralph, shaking his finger at his brother. "What did I tell you?"
"That's no secret at all," answered Loren. "We were satisfied from the first that you knew all about it. You looked very surprised and innocent, and I know you were mad when you discovered that Matt had robbed you as well as the rest of us; but you didn't play your part well enough to ward off all suspicion."
These words added to Tom's fears. "Do you think Joe suspected me?" he inquired.
"If he did, he made no sign," replied Loren. "Perhaps one reason why Ralph and I suspected you was because we could read you better than Joe could. Well, what of it?"
"Well," said Tom, desperately, "Matt Coyle tells me that, as an accessory before the fact, I am liable to punishment at the hands of the law. That is what he is working on. You have heard that he stole a couple of valuable guns from an unguarded camp a few weeks ago. There has been a reward of one hundred dollars offered for the recovery of those guns, and, as Matt dare not take them up to the Sportsman's Home himself, he demands that I shall act as his agent, and share the reward with him."
"Demands?" repeated Loren.
"But before he will give the guns into my possession, I must pay him fifty dollars, cash in hand," added Tom. "Yes, sir; he demands that I shall do this under penalty of being denounced to the officers of the law."
"Whew!" whistled Ralph. "Here is a go!"
"That Matt Coyle has more cheek than you showed on the day of the canoe meet, when you purposely capsized Frank Noble and claimed foul on it," said Loren. "Are you going to give him the money?"
"He'll have to; he can't get out of it. But here's where the trouble is going to come in," said Ralph, who was by no means thick-headed if he did hate books. "The minute Tom gives him fifty dollars for those guns, that minute he puts himself completely in the villain's power."
"That was the way I looked at it," said Tom. "But what can I do? What would you do if you were in my place?"
"The sight of those fifty dollars will show that lazy Matt how he can make a very nice income without doing a stroke of work," continued Ralph. "He'll go on stealing, and as fast as he accumulates property he will make Tom buy it of him, no matter whether there is a reward offered for it or not. There is only one thing you can do. You had better start for home bright and early to-morrow morning, get fifty dollars of your father, if he will give it to you, hand it over to Matt as soon as you can find him, and then shake the dust of the Indian Lake country from your feet forever, or at least until that squatter has been placed behind prison bars."
"But Matt says I need not hope to escape him by going home," said Tom. "He reminded me that a constable can catch me in Mount Airy as easily as he can here."
"That's so," assented Ralph, "but what other show have you? When you give him the money you will put him in good humor, and I don't think he will denounce you until he has had some sort of a row with you. You must keep him good-natured."
"And the only way I can do that is by keeping his pockets full," said Tom, with a groan. "I won't do it. I'll give him the fifty dollars, because I can't help myself; and when I part from him he will never see me again. My supply of spending money is not as generous as it might be, and Matt shall not see a dollar of it."
"Here's another point," said Loren, swinging himself from his hammock. "Matt is going to be arrested some day, and what assurance have we that he won't tell all he knows?"
"We haven't any," said Tom, fiercely; and then, to the surprise of both his cousins, he broke out into the wildest kind of a tirade against Joe Wayring and every body who was a friend to him. Knowing that they could not stop him, they let him go on and talk himself out of breath.
"I'd like to see something happen to that boy, for if it hadn't been for him and his chums I never would have been in this fix," said Tom, at last. "Because we wouldn't toady to them, they slammed the door of the archery club in our faces, and went against us in every way they knew how. Well, it is a long lane that has no turning, and we may come out at the top of the heap yet. Will you fellows stand by me? I mean will you go home with me, and come back when I get the money?"
Ralph and Loren gave it as their opinion that their cousin Tom ought to know better than to ask such a question. Hadn't they always stood by him, through thick and thin, and made common cause with him against every one he did pot like? Of course they would stay with him until his trouble with Matt Coyle was settled, and do all they could to help him.
"I'm glad to hear it, for I should dreadfully hate to be left to myself in an emergency like this," said Tom. "But we haven't a single hour to lose. Matt said he would give me ten days to go to Mount Airy and return, and we ought to start to-morrow. Which one of you will go to the hotel with me after a supply of grub?"
"Let Ralph go," said Loren. "He's treasurer. I will stay here and look out for things about the camp, and perhaps I shall be able to think up some way for you to wriggle out of Matt Coyle's clutches."
Ralph, weary of loafing about the camp and glad of an opportunity to stretch his arms, readily agreed to accompany his cousin to the Sportsman's Home and buy the provisions they would need while on their way to Mount Airy. The two set out at once, and when they came back at dark they had a startling story to tell the camp-keeper. The Irvington bank had been robbed of six thousand dollars, and the thieves had been traced to Indian Lake.
"I should think there were rascals enough here already," said Loren, after he had listened to all the particulars.
"They keep coming in all the while," replied Ralph, "and the landlords don't like it very well. It's hurting their business. The sportsmen, especially those who have women and children with them, are leaving as fast as they can pack up. We'll be off to-morrow, and I hope we shall never come here for another outing. Tom, are you sure you can take us straight to the creek that leads from the pond to the Indian river? You know we told you that, in the absence of a guide, we should depend on you to show us the way home."
"Don't be uneasy," was Tom's confident answer. "I have a good many landmarks to go by, and I'll not take you an inch out of a direct line."
Of course there was but one thing talked about around that camp fire between supper time and the hour for retiring, and that was the attempt on the part of Matt Coyle to make a receiver of stolen property out of Tom Bigden. The longer they dwelt upon it the darker Tom's prospects seemed to become. The fear of what the squatter could do, if he made up his mind to be ugly, effectually banished sleep from their eyes for the greater part of the night; and the consequence was that when they arose from their beds of browse the next morning they were too cross and snappish to be civil to one another. During the time that was consumed in cooking and eating breakfast, packing the canoes, and getting under way, they did not speak half a dozen words aloud; but they all kept up a good deal of thinking, and no doubt it was while Tom was in a fit of abstraction that he lost his way. At any rate, he left the lake at least two miles below the point at which he ought to have left it. He turned into the creek up which Matt Coyle and his boys fled on the morning following their encounter with Joe Wayring and his chums, and Ralph and Loren blindly followed his lead. Not until they made a landing, about two o'clock in the afternoon, to eat their lunch, did Tom begin to suspect that he was a little out of his reckoning. If they had come there a few hours sooner, they would have seen Mr. Swan and his party; for, as luck would have it, they had landed within a short distance of Matt Coyle's old camp.
"I am obliged to confess that I am any thing but a trustworthy guide for this neck of the woods," said Tom, after he had looked in vain for some of the landmarks of which he had spoken the day before. "I don't think I ever saw this place until this moment."
"Well, I am sure I have," said Loren. "On our way down we camped within sight of that leaning tree over there. Didn't we, Ralph?"
"I think so. I am quite sure I shot at an eagle on that same leaning tree. You fellows fix the lunch, and I will very soon find out whether I am right or wrong," said Ralph, getting upon his feet and shoving a cartridge into each barrel of his gun. "If this is the place I think it is, I shall find a little clearing back here about a hundred yards, grown up to briers. Don't you remember we picked a few berries there on the way down?"
"I haven't forgotten about the berries, but I don't think you will find that or any other clearing in these thick woods," answered Tom. "But go ahead and look, and we will have the lunch ready by the time you get back."
Ralph shouldered his gun and disappeared among the evergreens. He was gone about ten minutes, and then Tom and Loren heard him calling to them in an excited voice.
"Oh, fellows! Oh, fellows!" shouted Ralph. "Come here. Come as quick as you know how."
Tom and his cousin were in no hurry to obey this peremptory summons. They did not know what they might find back there in the bushes. Their faces turned white, and the hands with which they pushed the cartridges into their guns trembled visibly.
"Are you coming?" cried Ralph impatiently.
"What have you found?" Loren managed to ask, in reply.
"Something that will make you open your eyes," was the answer. "But it won't hurt you. Why don't yon come on?"
These reassuring words brought Tom and Loren to their feet and took them into the evergreens; but it was not without fear and trembling that they slowly worked their way toward the place from which Ralph's voice sounded, nor did they neglect to hold themselves in readiness to take to their heels the instant they saw any thing alarming. They reached Ralph's side at last, and were astonished beyond measure to find him holding a Victoria gun-case in one hand and an elegant double-barrel hammerless in the other. As they came up he raised the hand that held the case, directing their attention to a finely finished Winchester rifle that rested against a log near by.
"What's the meaning of this? Where did you find them?" exclaimed Tom, as soon as he had found his tongue.
Before speaking Ralph stepped to the end of the log and pointed to the hollow in it. Then he picked up a bush that appeared to have been lately cut, and laid it across the opening.
"That's the way it was when I came along here a few minutes ago," said he. "I stumbled against something, and when I looked to see what it was I found that I had kicked this bush away and exposed the opening. As I was searching for that blackberry-patch, and nothing else, I was about to pass on, when something glittering caught my eye. It was the buckle on this gun-case. That's my answer to your second question, Tom. In reply to your first, I say: It means that you need have no further trouble with Matt Coyle, and you needn't ask your father for that money."
"Do—do you think these are the stolen guns?" stammered Tom.
"Of course they are," said Loren, confidently. "That one by the log is a Winchester, and I see the name Lefever on this. I tell you, old fellow, you are in luck."
"For once in my life I believe I am," said Tom, taking the double-barrel from his cousin's hand and giving it a good looking over. "Seen any signs of the berry-patch, Ralph?"
"Never a sign."
"And you won't see any in this part of the country, either," answered Tom. "We missed our way, and that was a very fortunate thing for me. I've got the weather-gauge of Matt Coyle now. Let's eat our lunch and start back for our old camp."
So saying Tom shouldered the Lefever hammerless and turned his face toward the creek, Loren following with the Victoria case in his hand, and Ralph bringing up the rear with the Winchester. They had many a hearty laugh at Matt Coyle's expense, but when they sat down to lunch they began to look at the matter seriously.
"You've got the upper hand of him now, and you want to keep it," said Ralph. "I don't think it would be quite safe for you to defy him."
"By no means," replied Tom. "I have no intention of doing any thing of the sort. I shall have an interview with him at the earliest possible moment, and tell him when he produces the guns I will give him his money. I can't be expected to fill my part of the contract until he fills his; and that's something he can't do, thanks to Ralph. Why, boys, I feel as if I had got rid of an awful load."
For the first time since he came to Mount Airy to live Tom Bigden was perfectly happy. According to his way of looking at it, he had turned the tables on the squatter very neatly, and any sensible boy would have said that the best thing he could do was to keep clear of that low fellow in future. But he did not do it. Scarcely a week passed away before his hatred for Joe Wayring led him into a worse scrape than the one from which he had just been extricated by his cousin's lucky discovery.
I must not forget to say that while the boys were lounging about on the bank of the creek, eating their bacon and cracker, there was something going on in the woods behind them. Every thing they did while they were standing beside that hollow log, examining the guns that had been found in it, was seen, and every word they uttered had been overheard by a young ragamuffin who was concealed within less than a stone's throw of them. Ralph Farnsworth had come upon him so suddenly that he did not have time to run far. He shook both his fists in the air and gnashed his teeth with rage when he saw Tom and his cousins walk away with the guns in their possession, and as soon as they were out of sight he came from his place of concealment and crept toward the log on all-fours. But he did not stop there. He simply glanced at the hollow as he passed and presently disappeared in a thicket on the opposite side. When he came into view again he was closely hugging two small valises, one under each arm. The angry scowl was gone from his face, and he was grinning broadly and going through a variety of uncouth antics, expressive, no doubt, of great satisfaction and delight. He stopped and listened, and the sounds that came to his ears told him that Tom Bigden and his companions were shoving off in their canoes and heading down the creek toward the lake. When their voices died away in the distance he bent himself almost double, and moved off with long, noiseless strides.
The three canoeists reached their camp in the grove long before dark, for the swift current in the creek helped them along at the rate of three miles an hour. Tom's first care was to make sure of the guns; and these he at once proceeded to hide in the thick branches of an evergreen, while his cousins cut wood, made the fire, and cooked the supper. They had brought very light hearts back with them, but one of their number, at least, did not sleep any the better for it. It was Tom, who grew uneasy every time he thought of the coming interview with the squatter, which he hoped to bring about on the following day. How was it going to end? That was the question Tom kept asking himself, and when he saw the day breaking, after an almost sleepless night, he had not found a satisfactory answer to it.
"I suppose we ought to go to the Sportsman's Home at once and give those guns up," said Loren, as he raked the coals together and threw on an armful of fresh fuel. "We'll not touch the reward, of course."
"Certainly not," replied Ralph. "But I would freely give a hundred dollars, if I had it, to see Matt Coyle shut up for a long term of years."
"But he will have a trial before he is shut up, and there is no knowing what secrets he may tell while that trial is in progress," said Loren.
"You don't know how that thought worries me," said Tom. "It is on my mind continually. I wish you fellows wouldn't give up the guns until I have seen Matt."
"What good will it do to keep them?" asked Loren.
"I don't know that it will do any good; but I should like to be with you when you hand them over to Mr. Hanson. I can't go up to the Sportsman's Home to-day, for I have a most disagreeable piece of work to do first. The sooner I get that off my hands, the sooner I shall feel easy."
Tom ate but little breakfast, for he seemed to have lost all desire for food. He drank a cup of coffee, and then arose to his feet and said good-by, adding, as he pushed his canoe from the beach and stepped into it—
"I shall have something to tell you when I come back. I don't know whether it will be good or bad, but when I see you again I shall know more than I do now."
"Where are you going?"
"Down to the hatchery. It was while I was on my way there day before yesterday that I met Matt. I have an idea that he hangs out somewhere in that neighborhood."
Tom passed a very pleasant hour with the superintendent, who showed him every thing of interest there was to be seen about the hatchery, and took much pains to make all the little details of the science clear to him, even going back to the time of the Romans, among whom, it is stated by several writers, the art approached a remarkable degree of perfection; but it is doubtful if Tom knew any more about fishes when he went away than he did when he came. He was thinking of Matt Coyle,to whom the superintendent incidentally referred during the progress of the conversation.
"When we first came here, of course we were empty-handed," said he. "We set the traps in the outlet to catch fish so that we could get their eggs; but a few vagabonds of the Coyle stamp made it their business to cut our nets almost as fast as we could put them in. When we threatened to have them arrested, they replied that we had better let them alone or they would set fire to the hatchery. They said they would fish where they pleased, and nobody should stop them; but they have thought better of it, and don't bother us any now. Matt Coyle and his boys are the worst of the lot. They steal every thing they eat and wear, but so far they have not interfered with us. When they do, we shall have them arrested, Hanson or no Hanson."
"What has he to do with it?" inquired Tom. "Doesn't he want them to be arrested?"
"Not just yet; not until he has recovered two stolen guns Matt has in his possession," answered the superintendent. "That is a matter of dollars and cents to both the hotels at the lake, for if those guns are not restored to their owners the landlords will be ruined."
"Perhaps if he were shut up for a while he would lose heart, and tell where the guns could be found," suggested Tom.
"Swan and the other guides who know him think differently. That was my idea, and I urged it upon the guides, for I wanted that villain and all his tribe out of my way. But Swan says Matt is a man who can't be driven. However, Rube has his eye on him, and perhaps he will discover something one of these days."
"Who is Rube?" asked Tom.
"Our watchman. He used to be one of Hanson's guides; but he proved too lazy for the business, so Hanson induced us to bring him down here to watch the hatchery and act as spy upon Matt's movements at the same time. When Swan and his friends destroyed Matt's camp Rube took him into his house. He and his family are there now, and Rube is trying the best he knows how to get into their confidence so that they will tell him where these guns are concealed. I ought, perhaps, to say that three members of the family are at Rube's house now. Where the other is no one seems to know. Yesterday morning the sheriff made an attempt to arrest Jake, but the family got warning in time, took to the woods, and Jake hasn't come back yet."
"What had he been doing?" inquired Tom, who was much more interested in this than he was in the science of fish-culture.
"You heard about the Irvington bank robbery, didn't you? Well, every thing goes to prove that the six thousand dollars the thieves secured is now in Jake Coyle's hands."
This was the most astounding piece of news that Tom Bigden had ever listened to. "How did Jake get hold of it?" he asked.
"Well, the sheriff summoned a posse, caught the robbers after a short chase, and they told him that the boy they hired to ferry them over the lake, and who was robbing a cellar when they first spoke to him, capsized them on purpose and spilled the money out into the water. You see Jake caught a glimpse of the money when one of the robbers opened his valise to pay him the five dollars he demanded for ferrying them over, and made up his mind to have it for his own."
"I had no idea Jake Coyle was smart enough to do a thing like that," said Tom, who could scarcely credit his ears. "Do you believe the story?"
"Why, the guides tell me that the whole family are sharper than steel traps. Of course I believe the story. On the way home the sheriff ran upon a canvas canoe that Matt stole from Joe Wayring up in Sherwin's Pond, and the robbers recognized it the minute it was put together as the one in which they had started to cross the lake. When the sheriff heard this he knew at once that the ferryman was Jake Coyle, and nobody else, for he is the one who steals all the grub for the family. When they came here to be set across the outlet they surrounded Rube's house with the intention of arresting Jake, but he and the rest had been warned, as I told you, and could not be found. After that the sheriff took one of the robbers up the lake to point out the snag on which Jake capsized the canvas canoe, but the money wasn't there."
"Have you any idea what had become of it?"
"I haven't the least doubt that Jake went up there night before last, dived for the valises and took them off in the woods and hid them. That is what the sheriff thinks, and it is the plan he is working on."
"I am glad I went to the hatchery this morning," thought Tom, as he pulled slowly toward camp after thanking the accommodating official for the pains he had taken to teach him something. "I have had a good time, and I have heard one or two things that may be of use to me."