Chapter XVI: Erastus, the Houseburner

"Hold on, George," said Jack, as he saw the impetuous one start toward the big tree that had such a profusion of low branches that it was hard to see distinctly under its canopy. "Go slow now. A bear may turn out to be a dangerous article if you only wound him."

"But we ought to get him!" declared the other, handling his repeating rifle eagerly.

"That's right," cried Nick, from the rear, where he had picked up a billet of wood and was making several vigorous passes through the air, as if getting his muscles in trim for the combat. "It would be a shame to lose the opportunity for unlimited bear steaks. I've always wanted to taste one; and you know we may not get another such chance. Why, he just wants to get in our frying pan; that's why he's come so close to our fire, fellows."

"Keep still," ordered Jack; and when he spoke in that way Nick knew better than to disobey.

The fact of the matter was, Jack had a strong suspicion that while the fat boy may have seen _something_ at the time he did, it could hardly have been a bear. He did not believe such a wary animal would have remained so long close to where a bunch of noisy boys had camped. And if he had been sleeping in the hollow of that big live oak he must have been scared away long since.

"Jimmie, throw a lot of fine stuff on the fire," said Jack. "We want more light here. That's the ticket," as the flames shot up, and the whole vicinity was illuminated. "Now, George, you keep close to me, and we'll advance until we can see if there's anything doing."

Jimmie snatched up a burning brand from the fire, and waving this above his head, he kept behind the two who had guns.

"That's a clever stunt, Jimmie," remarked Jack; and the others noticed that his voice did not seem to tremble a single bit, so well did he have his nerves under control right then.

"Guess it's all a fizzle," grunted George presently. "I can see behind the tree, and there's no bear there. Buster, you're a fraud."

"No, no, I'm dead sure I saw something that looked like a bear's head," said the other, vehemently. "Perhaps he's hiding inside the tree, fellows?"

At that George laughed harshly. He was still trembling from excitement.

"Well," he observed, "there's is a hollow in the tree all right; but the opening ain't over a foot across; and it would have to be a mighty thin bear that could push in or out of that."

"Wait," said Jack, quietly. "There may be a way to prove whether Buster has been fooled, or if he did see something."

He took the torch from Jimmie, and immediately pushed right on under the drooping limbs of the wide spreading oak.

"Oh! he's going to look for the tracks!" cried Nick, still hugging the neighborhood of the fire. "That's a bright idea, Jack. You're the swift thing, all right. But take care he don't jump out on you. I thought I saw something move right then. And if we don't get them bear steaks I'm going to be mighty sorry, that's what."

Jack paid no attention to what the other said. Already he was stooping down, and examining the earth, as he held the blazing torch close.

"Any bear sign?" asked George, who stood guard over him, rifle in hand, and dividing his attention between what Jack was doing and the surrounding gloomy woods.

"Not a bit," came back the ready answer; "and as I've seen the tracks of a bear more than once I think I'd know such a thing."

"Told you so," declared George, in a disgusted voice. "Another one of Buster's false alarms. That's the way he's been doing all along; seeing snags ahead when there wasn't one, and making me check up in a hurry, and that was hard on my engine."

"Go slow," observed the boy who was on his knees. "I said there wasn't any bear tracks, didn't I? But that doesn't mean Buster didn't see something."

"Goodness gracious! it wasn't a panther, was it?" gasped George.

"Oh! no, only a man," replied the other. "Look here, and you'll see the plain print of his foot and toes in the dirt; and an unusually big foot, too."

"Barefooted!" exclaimed George, bending eagerly over.

"That's so; but haven't we seen scores of negroes barefooted all along?" Jack said, positively.

"Then it was a coon. Say, why did he run away, then? Jack, you remember all they told us above about the troubles down here in the region around Coahoma county? Don't you believe that this fellow may have been a desperate negro, hunted by the Regulators, who want to string him up?"

Jack pretended to laugh, though George detected a vein of uneasiness in his comrade's manner.

"Oh! well," he went on, "I hardly think it's quite as bad as that, George. But still, he certainly did run away when he found he had been seen; and that looks bad."

"But what d'ye think brought him here in the first place?" George pursued.

"Huh!" grunted Nick, breathing in, "that ought to be easy to guess. Picture yourself hungry as all get-out, and wandering through these woods, when you suddenly get a sniff of the most delicious odors in the wide world. Wouldn't you make a bee line for that grub factory, and see if you couldn't sneak a share off? Huh! some people don't ever seem to understand the common failing of human nature."

"Is that it, Jack?" asked George.

"I think Buster hit the nail on the head that time," returned the other. "This man must have been drawn by the smell of our cooking. He's been watching us from behind this tree. Then when he saw that he had been discovered he got cold feet, and vamoosed."

"Then we'd better keep watch and watch tonight," said George.

"I meant to suggest that idea anyway," Jack answered.

"Gee! I feel sorry for that poor wretch!" Nick remarked. "Just think of having a chance to smell all the nice odors and get nothing. It's a shame, that's what!"

George laughed derisively.

"Listen to him, would you?" he cried. "He's so fond of stuffing himself, that he feels for a poor skunk that didn't know enough to keep out of trouble."

"Shame on you, George," Jack burst out with. "I think it does Buster credit. And I'm going to tie that half loaf of bread to the tree here, so if our timid black friend comes back, he can get something to keep him from starving."

"Better go slow," remarked George. "You may get in a peck of trouble that way, if this fellow happens to be that Erastus we heard about, who burned the house up in Tunica county here, and is being hunted far and near. Dangerous business, Jack."

"We don't know anything about it, only that there may be a poor chap nearly starved nearby. What do you say, Jimmie? I'd like to feel that I have backing enough," and Jack turned toward the Irish lad.

"Pshaw! no use asking _him_," snorted George. "Jimmie would give away the coat on his back, or his last copper. Make it unanimous, then, if you want, Jack," for already the impetuous skipper of the _Wireless_ was growing sorry because of his stand.

And so Jack did fasten the partly eaten loaf of bread to the tree in such a fashion that it could readily be seen should a hungry man come prowling around again during the night.

Then they went to the boats and sought rest, Jack dividing the night into two hour watches, during which one of the boys would be on guard.

But nothing came to pass that was out of the way during the period lasting up to the arrival of dawn. It did not even rain, for the clouds passed off, and the sun rose as if in for a good day.

Jack upon arising walked to the tree.

"Looks like it's gone!" called out Nick, who was poking his head out from the curtains of the boat tent. "Hope some wildcat didn't hook it, though."

"No fear of that," laughed Jack, "for bobcats don't leave a polite note of thanks behind when they steal a supper. Look here what I found, stuck to the bark of the tree with a splinter of wood."

He had a very much soiled scrap of paper, upon which someone had scrawled a few crooked lines. With considerable patience Jack finally read these words:

"Neber burnd no hows. My cozin Peck he doned it suah. But dey hangs a culld mans fust down disaways an den tries him fo de crim. Is innersent, I swars hit. I gotter de bred. I et it, case I mity ni starve. But I's innersent. Rastus."

"Well, what d'ye think of that?" shouted George, who had also appeared, fully dressed by now. "Better keep that letter of thanks, Jack. We'll have it framed, and hung in our clubhouse some day."

The others soon appeared, and preparations went on for breakfast, the fire being revived for the occasion.

Nick kept his eyes on the alert during the entire progress of the meal. Perhaps he was thinking of the poor, wretched fellow who was being hunted like a wild animal, and who knew not where his next meal might come from.

They had just about finished, with considerable to spare in the frying pan, when Jack held up his hand suddenly, exclaiming:

"Listen, fellows!"

But the sound was so close by that every one of them had heard it as distinctly as Jack himself; for the baying of a pack of hounds had been carried on the wings of the early morning wind from a point just to the north.