The Secret of Wildcat Swamp (13 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Secret of Wildcat Swamp
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It was perilous going. The Hardys were forced to move from behind the crates and crouch on top of the load. As the truck hit a bad bump, the younger man shouted:
“Hey, watch it! This ain't no superhighway!”
“Calm down,” the driver said irritably. “It's only ten miles to the swamp, Charlie.”
“Just the same,” Charlie said, “there ain't no reason to set a record. We passed the other truck an hour ago.”
The truck lurched over, its right wheels slipping sideways. “Watch that ditch!”
“Aw, shut up! You been a pain in the neck ever since we started this job.”
“I don't like what's goin' on. If—”
His words were cut off as the big vehicle skidded. The load shifted sharply, sending an avalanche of pipe toward Frank and Joel
CHAPTER XVII
A Friendly Outlaw
“LOOK out, Frank!” The warning shout slipped from Joe involuntarily.
Reaching high, the boys grabbed the cross braces, and pulled themselves up just as the heavy sections of pipe crashed across the floor of the truck.
The big vehicle skidded to the side of the road, shuddering as it hit the soft shoulder, and stalled.
“Now you've done it,” they heard the helper berate the driver. “If we get stuck here, the boss'll—”
“Shut up!” the angry driver commanded. “Didn't you hear that yell? Somebody's in the back of this truck!”
“Aw, you're loco.”
“Listen, bud, I heard somethin', and I'm checkin' up.”
With a mad scramble Frank and Joe slid from under the tarpaulin and landed in the road. Quietly they ducked underneath the truck's chassis, just as the husky driver swaggered down from the cab.
He walked along the side of the truck to the rear, the boys watching his feet every step of the way. Leaning over the tailboard, he fumbled with the canvas tarpaulin. Joe looked at the man's legs, so near his own hidden shoulder.
“Too good to miss!” he thought.
Reaching out his arms, he grabbed the back of the driver's legs and yanked them forward. There was a startled
umph
as the fellow went crashing to the road. His gun went one way and his flashlight another. Before he could yell to his helper, the two boys were upon him. Joe sent his fist swinging hard to the man's jaw, and he collapsed without a sound.
Quickly the boys dragged his inert form under the truck. They were not a second too soon.
“Well, did you find anythin'?” Charlie called as he climbed out of the cab.
Receiving no answer, he stalked to the rear of the vehicle to investigate. Frank set himself to duplicate his brother's action. His shoulder hit the man just below the knees, and before Charlie knew what was happening to him, Joe dealt him a knockout blow.
“What are we going to do with them?” Joe asked.
“I don't know yet, but we'll have to do something fast. Look!”
Down the road, still a good distance away, two bouncing pinpoints of light became visible. The other truck was catching up with them!
“Come on. We'll drag these fellows into the tall grass there.” Frank indicated the high growth on the other side of the road, and quickly they tugged the two unconscious men out of sight.
“We'd better run,” Joe advised.
Frank had another plan. “We don't want them to stop. Let's put on their caps and pull 'em down. They'll hide our faces a little, and maybe we can get by.”
“All right. You get in the cab. I'll pretend I'm tying this canvas, and you wave them on from the window,” Joe suggested.
By this time the beams of the other truck's headlights were almost upon them. Frank climbed as casually as he could into the cab and sat there with his left hand giving the passing signal. Joe fussed with the canvas on the side of the truck opposite to where the other vehicle would pass.
Those few seconds seemed an eternity to the boys as the second truck rolled up to them, but fortunately it did not slow down. There was a shouted ridicule about “lazy coyotes,” but the driver kept his foot pressed down on the accelerator.
The driver went crashing to the road
The scheme had worked!
“We'd better get back to those two we hid and tie them before they wake up,” Frank said, leaping from the cab.
Using the rope with which the canvas had been tied, they first secured the driver's wrists and ankles. Just as he was coming to, they managed to gag him firmly.
“We'd better drag him back where there's no possible chance of his rolling into the road and having one of the gang find him,” Frank proposed.
The driver was dragged off and wedged into a cluster of trees.
“How about Charlie?” Joe asked. “I'll get more rope.”
“Wait!” Frank said. “I've been thinking about Charlie. He sounded as if he's fed up with the gang. Do you suppose we could persuade him—?”
The young man was just beginning to show signs of regaining consciousness when the boys returned to him. Frank removed Charlie's pistol a split second before he sat up and shook his head.
“What happened?” he groaned.
When his head had cleared, the boys revealed their identity.
“But I thought you were—”
“Frozen to death in that refrigerator car?” Joe finished grimly. “No, your boss just wasn't smart enough.”
“I'm glad of that!” Charlie growled. “I told those hombres they were goin' too far.”
“Listen, Charlie,” Frank began earnestly, “you don't seem to be a bad sort. Why don't you quit this gang right now?”
“You could go straight, and give us a hand in the bargain,” Joe urged.
“How?” Charlie asked suspiciously.
“If you help us turn the tables on those thieves, we'll do everything we can to clear you with the police.”
“But if you stick with them,” Frank said, “the way things are going, they're bound to wind up in prison for life.”
Charlie was silent, looking first at the Hardys and then off into the distance, as he thought the proposition over.
“You're right,” he said at last. “Now's my chance. Maybe you won't believe me, but I just hooked up with Flint. Lure of easy money. I ain't done anythin' yet to get me a sentence.” He paused a few seconds. “I got two kid brothers your age. If I get caught now—well, I guess I'll have to trust you about helpin' me out. But first, what can I do?”
Elated over this unexpected source of assistance, the boys helped Charlie to his feet and discussed the situation.
“Somebody's got to find out about our dad,” Frank said. “Flint radioed that fellow back at the diner that Dad needed a doctor. He must be hurt! Where's Flint?”
“He's goin' to the diner,” Charlie answered. “We're all supposed to meet there later.”
“How about you going back there and finding out about my father?” Frank asked. “Then you can notify the police.”
“And the driver? Can you take care of him?” Joe asked.
“I'll send somebody out to bring him in,” Charlie promised. “Don't worry. You can count on me. I don't want to end up in the chair!”
It was decided that the boys would drive on to the swamp, while Charlie would walk to the main highway and hitch a ride back to the diner. As proof of the boys' confidence in him, Frank gave the man his gun.
Charlie set off down the rough trail and the boys climbed into the cab of the truck.
“How close do you think we ought to get to that gang?” Joe asked.
“Not too close. We'll sneak up on foot and find out where they're taking this equipment.”
“Then we'll head for the cave to help Cap and Chet,” Joe added as the truck bumped and jounced along.
After that, the boys rode in silence until they saw lights ahead. Frank slowed the truck to a crawl.
“They're unloading the stuff,” he said. “I would guess they are at the top of the slope above Wildcat Swamp, just opposite where we were digging.”
Several men were busy carrying lengths of pipe and heavy boxes which they were piling behind some bushes. Fortunately no one turned around when Frank braked to a complete stop.
“Now's our chance to get away!” Joe urged. They quickly climbed out and hurried into the shadows.
By this time streaks of gray were showing in the eastern sky. With the breaking dawn to help them, the boys picked their way toward the swamp. Knowing that the thieves would be camping somewhere near it, they gave the area a wide berth as they made their way toward the sloping bank where they had been digging.
They were skirting the swamp when Joe suddenly stopped to listen. In the distance there was a low hum and rumble.
“The trucks, Frank! They must have finished unloading. They're leaving.”
“I hope Charlie gets to the diner before they do. That gang's surely discovered by this time that he and the driver are missing. They're probably searching for them right now.”
The boys pushed on around the swamp, finally completing a tortuous half circle that brought them to the bottom of the sandy slope in which the camel fossil was buried.
“Say,” said Joe as he reached the entrance to the cave, “what have they done to this place? It's choked with sand and rocks!”
“The gang must have done it to hide the entrance from strangers,” Frank replied. “I wonder if the other entrance—”
They rushed around to the other end of the slope. The entrance there had been blocked in exactly the same way.
“This is worse,” Joe announced. “I think the other entrance will be easier to negotiate.”
They returned to it, scrambling over the pile of sand and gravel to reach the cave opening. Before entering, Frank played the strong beam of his flashlight as far into the cave as it would carry.
“Cap! Chet!” Joe called.
There was no answer.
“Come on, Frank!”
After a breath-taking slide, they landed in the mouth of the deep cavern, and flashed their lights around. There was no sign of Cap and Chet.
Dismayed and filled with apprehension, Frank began a search of the inner area. “There may be a deeper section to this cave than we thought.”
Seconds later Joe heard his cry of joy. “They're here!”
Lying in a crevice beneath the far wall, bound and gagged, were their friends. In no time, the Hardys had Cap and Chet out in the central portion of the cave.
“I'll get the gags off,” Joe said excitedly. “You untie their hands.”
With his pocketknife he sliced the tight kerchiefs with which the captives had been gagged. Even when the gags were removed, Cap and Chet could barely whisper. They were very weak, saying they had had no food since being captured.
After all their bonds were removed, the two found that because of their long inactivity, they could not stand up. Frank and Joe massaged their numbed arms and legs to restore circulation, and in a little while the released prisoners were able to hobble painfully.
“Eat some of these food tablets,” Frank said. “They'll help until we can get some solid food.”
A few minutes later Cap and Chet were able to give a halting, whispered account of their capture by the phony rangers.
The Hardys burned with anger when they were told that the outlaws had come back a second time to gag their captives and bind them even more securely.
“It was then,” Cap continued with parched lips, “that they tried to seal off the entrances to the cave. They said nobody, not even the Hardys, would see us alive again.”
“I'd like to get my hand on that Willie just once more,” Chet muttered.
“Easy does it,” Joe advised. “Come on now. We have to get out of here.”
It took a long time for Frank and Joe to get their friends out of the sand-choked passageway, but eventually all four stood on the ledge at the slope. Cap and Chet, accustomed for so long to the darkness of the cave, were almost blinded by the early-morning light.
“Listen, Frank,” said Joe, “they're in no condition to walk. I'll get their horses, while you stay here with them.”
Cap laid a hand on Frank's arm.
“No use!” he said in a discouraged, tired voice.
“The men took our horses. We're stranded!”
CHAPTER XVIII
Trapped!
FRANK shot a startled glance at Joe. The Hardys knew the seriousness of the situation and Cap sensed it too.
“You boys go ahead to Red Butte,” he told them. “Chet and I will take it easy and get there when we can.”
“But the horses,” Chet spoke up. “You can't go far in this country without horses.”

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