Chapter XI: The Convicts' Camp

MCCARTY took the lead, and, without hesitation, struck out due north.

"Why, you're going the wrong way," Walter exclaimed, "or at least it seems the wrong way to me. How do you know you're headed right?"

McCarty grinned. "I spent lots of my spare time hunting," he explained, "and most of it was done in a worse country than this, where one could get lost within a couple of hundred yards of camp. That kind of hunting develops a kind of direction instinct, as hunters call it, but which is really a habit of observation. Now I have taken note of every turn we have made to-day, and, although we are not going back the way we came, I'll guarantee that we'll come out within a hundred yards of camp. But I guess I had better stop bragging. I need all my wind to handle this deer."

It soon became evident that McCarty was right, and that they were not going to be able to make camp before dark. Indeed, they had covered not more than three miles of the distance when darkness descended upon them.

"It's a little risky, but I guess we can push on until the white mist rises," said McCarty, as they halted for a moment to rest. "The moon is bright enough for us to pick our way now, but when the mist rises we will have to make camp for the night. I couldn't trust myself to find my way through the fog."

"I don't mind a night out," Walter said, "but I hate to have the Captain worrying about us."

"Same here," agreed McCarty. "But that cannot be helped now. Let's push on again, and get as far as we can."

"Well, let me take the deer for a while," Walter urged.

"Well, I don't mind if you do, for a few minutes," McCarty admitted. "I've carried many a one twice this distance, but that was in the day time. This trying to pick trail and carry too is sure getting my goat."

They had not proceeded far before McCarty stopped again. "If I am not badly fooled, there's a campfire right ahead of us," he said. "See that faint glow there in the darkness."

"Good," Walter said. "We can perhaps camp for the night with them, whoever they are."

"Maybe," agreed his companion doubtfully. "If they are Indians, it is all right, but I am suspicious of white men I meet in this country. We can keep on for a ways, then one of us had better go ahead and investigate before we walk in on them."

"That's my part of the job," Walter exclaimed. "I'm a pretty fair scout, if I am not much of a woodsman."

"No," contested McCarty. "I'm better used to the kind of people we have in this part of the country than you are."

"Let's not quarrel about it," laughed Walter. "We can both go. Whoever they are, they are not likely to hear us above the din of the frogs and owls."

As the boys drew nearer to the campfire they became silent, lest the sound of their voices should make their presence known. When some two hundred yards from its glow, they left the deer behind and crept forward on hands and knees.

It was well that they had used such precautions, for the appearance of the group around the campfire was not reassuring. It consisted of three white men and one negro. The four were sprawled around the fire, over which a large turkey was hung to roast, and the firelight lit up four of as villainous looking faces as ever existed. The boys crept close enough to distinguish their features and hear the conversation that was going on.

The negro, whose face was scarred by several knife wounds, was speaking.

"I'se done getting tired ob dis," he was saying. "I don't like dis hangin' around in de woods day atter day adoing nothin'. What for dat white man send us out in dese woods foah if he don't want us to do nothin'?"

"Shut up," said one of his white companions curtly. "You've got no cause to kick. If he hadn't bribed the guard at the convict camp to let you escape, you would be working hard gathering turpentine yet."

"You ain't got no call to talk. I reckon you was in as bad a fix as me. Worser, 'cause de guard was just layin' foah a chance to put de whip on youah back."

"You two stop fussing," said the second white man in the group. "We are all escaped convicts, one no better than the other. A man helped us to escape, and sent us out here with a couple of months' grub and instructions to wait his orders. That suits me. I ain't anxious to go around any town until I get new clothes and my hair grows out, so I will not be spotted as an ex-convict. I'm willing to do what he says and wait for his orders."

"Same here," agreed the fourth man. "I don't know the boss' business, but I figure that he don't want to use violence to stop the building of that road unless he has to. He put Murphy out of business pretty quick by spending a little money with the engineers. Likely he's waiting to see if he can't work some such trick on the new concern before he tries any rough work."

"Why don't he want the road built?" inquired one of his companions.

"Give it up. I reckon he's just an agent for some big corporation," said the other. "I ain't worrying my head about it. What I want is new clothes and some money, and I reckon we will get both if we do as the boss tells us to do."

The talk drifted round to other topics, and the two lads crept silently back to the deer, and, shouldering it, circled around the convicts' camp, being careful to give it a wide berth. It was not until they had placed a full half mile between themselves and the convicts that they ventured to speak aloud, and by that time the white mist had begun to rise, and McCarty stopped near a clump of small spruces.

"No use trying to go any farther," he said. "Let's make camp here in these spruces. We can cut some boughs and make a comfortable bed in a few minutes."

The spruce thicket really made a comfortable camping place. The dense growth of spruce shut out the dampness, and the ground beneath them was thickly carpeted with fragrant pine needles. In a few minutes the boys had cut enough small boughs to make a comfortable bed. They were too utterly weary to light a fire and cook any of their game. They still had part of their lunch left, and, as soon as it was eaten, they lay down on their couch with sighs of relief.

"That was sure a tough-looking bunch back there," said McCarty, as he stretched out his weary limbs.

"And, judging from their conversation, they don't mean any good to us," Walter commented.

"It's queer, but I've felt all the time that some outside influence was holding back this road building, but it was only a hunch, and I could not be sure about it. Those fellows' talk to-night proves my hunch was right."

"The agent at Jupiter hinted that the Southern Dredging Co. might make us trouble," Walter remarked.

"The agent is mistaken," said McCarty, decidedly. "I worked for that company for years, and, while they will try to crush any company that gets in their way, they certainly would not take the trouble to go out of their way to crush a little concern like ours. No, there's some other reason for the trouble we've been having. Well, it's no use worrying. We had better go to sleep and get what rest we can. We will have to work to-morrow if your chum gets back with a new crew."

The two weary lads were soon sound asleep, and did not awaken until break of day. As it grew lighter, they were delighted to see the camp only three miles away. McCarty had made good his boast. He had come in a straight line from where they had killed the deer. In an hour's time they reached the camp, where Chris and the Captain were overjoyed to see them back.

"If you hadn't shown up early this morning I would have been out hunting for you," the old sailor declared. "Chris and I didn't sleep much last night."

"I'm glad you didn't start out," said Walter, with a grin, "for then we would have had to turn around and hunted you up. Chris, cut off some venison steaks and fry them for us, please. We are as hungry as wolves."

As soon as breakfast was over the two lads went out to the machine and took the pump to pieces, so as to have it ready for putting in the new parts Charley was expected to bring back with him. This was all they could do until he arrived with a new crew, so they returned to the camp and lounged around, chatting with the Captain and Chris until they heard the truck coming in the distance, when they went out to the road to meet it. As it came in sight they could see that it was loaded with men.

"He's got them all right," Walter exclaimed with delight.

"Yes," agreed McCarty, "he's sure got a load of them. Gosh, I hope they are the right kind. If they are, we will soon get things running smooth and good."

As the truck drew near, they could see two white men on the seat beside Charley, while the body of the car was filled with well-dressed men with black eyes and hair and rather dark complexions.

McCarty gave a whoop of delight.

"Bully for your chum!" he said. "He's got some of the best class of laborers that work in Florida."