"The rascal is escaping. We must run for it," whispered Hocker. He bounded forward with Jeffries at his heels. Zinn fell behind, leaving Bug in charge.
The men swiftly turned the upper corner of the mill just as the door was slammed and bolted in their faces. Hocker began to kick savagely and wrench the handle.
"That won't do any good," exclaimed Zinn, as he reached the spot. "I made a strong job of that door, and it will take more than a little to break it down. There are plenty of other places that can be forced in."
A brief pause followed, and then a sullen voice issued from behind the door.
"I'll put a hole through the first man that tries to enter this mill. I mean what I say. Dude Moxley ain't to be trifled with."
The men hastily withdrew, first taking the precaution to remove the plank that covered the sluiceway.
"The rascal must have seen us coming up the slope in the moonlight," muttered Hocker. "I suppose he thought we had the place surrounded and every avenue of escape cut off. He's a desperate fellow, and may stand a long siege."
In truth Moxley seemed to be preparing for that very thing. He boldly drew in the shutters of the two windows that the faced the creek, and a moment later he began to roll logs about, evidently fortifying the weak places in the wall.
"That may be only a ruse," said Jeffries. "Is there any way of escape from the other side?"
"Of course there is," exclaimed the farmer. "He can easily drop from the second story window to the foot of the hill. Lend me that empty gun," he added, turning to Ned. "I'll cross the wasteway in the boat and get behind the trees a few yards up the hill. If the rascal attempts to crawl out the window I'll scare him back."
Ned handed over the gun, and the farmer departed in haste. Hocker and Jeffries moved aside and carried on a whispered conversation.
Bug was left to his own devices. He could not escape, for the removal of the plank from the sluiceway made the place literally an island. He sat down on a big stone, with his manacled hands resting on his knees. Ned was restless and heartsick, and the prolonged suspense grew more intolerable every moment. He was afraid that Moxley would vent his anger on the boys, and perhaps do them an injury.
Hocker divined the lad's thoughts.
"Don't be downhearted," he said. "Your friends are safe enough. The scoundrel won't dare to hurt them. By and by, if the siege threatens to last, we'll find a way to get them out of the mill."
"I hope you will succeed," said Ned. "It's hard to tell what that ruffian will do. And none of us have had anything to eat since last evening at supper time."
Hocker was thunderstruck on hearing this, and hastily produced a double handful of crackers from the capacious pocket of his coat.
"That will take the edge off your hunger," he said. "I bought them at a country store as we drove by this morning. When Zinn's hired man comes down to see where his master is—as he surely will before long—I'll send him back for food. If we can't get your friends out of the mill we can at least send them something to eat through that loose board. By means of the boat one of us can climb into the rafters."
This plan seemed feasible, and Ned felt no compunctions about eating the crackers. Nothing had ever tasted so good to him before.
Meanwhile Hocker and Jeffries had been quietly holding another consultation, and now the latter advanced to the side of the mill.
"Moxley," he called in a loud voice, "if you know what's best for you, you will quietly hand out that gun, and deliver yourself up. The more trouble you give us, the harder it will be for you in the end. You can't possibly escape, and your capture is only a question of time. We are well armed, and won't stand any fooling. Come out now and we'll make it as easy for you as possible."
There was a brief pause, and then creaking footsteps were heart as Moxley approached the wall.
"You can talk all night," he shouted hoarsely, "but it won't do any good. Don't you come too close, Bill Jeffries, or I might draw a bead on you. We have more than one old score to settle. As for getting me out of here, you and ten like you can't do it. I have plenty of ammunition and plenty to eat, and this place will hold me as long as I want to stay. You can't take me inside of a week. I have four prisoners in here, and not a mouthful of food will they get, not a sup of water, as long as you fellows are prowling around. I mean what I say, Jeffries, and you know it. For your own good I warn you to get out of this. I'll shoot the first man that enters the mill."
To enforce this hostile declaration Moxley thrust the muzzle of his gun through a crevice, and Jeffries hastily retreated.
* * *
* * *
CHAPTER XXVI
BUG'S PROPOSITION
There was dead silence for a while. It was only too evident that Moxley meant what he said, and though Jeffries and Hocker were brave men, they were reluctant to engage in a struggle with all the odds against them.
Accompanied by Ned and Bug they moved down to the edge of the water—a distance of less than thirty feet in the present condition of the creek—and ensconced themselves in some thick bushes. There was no slight risk that Moxley would shoot through the crevices if the moonlight afforded him a tempting chance.
"If we can wait in patience the game will fall into our hands," said Jeffries. "The rascal has been drinking, and the fiery stuff has given him false courage. After a while he will either fall asleep or become helpless from intoxication."
"I wonder if the boys know that help is outside," remarked Ned, "I wish I could get a few words with them."
"Of course they know it," replied Hocker. "They heard every word that was said, and they have too much sense to make any outcry. We'll get them out of the scrape before long, never fear."
Just then the farmer's shrill voice rang out distinctly from the hillside behind the mill:
"Keep back, you rascal. If you crawl out that window I'll drop you quick as a wink."
"Moxley is trying to escape from the second floor," muttered Hocker. "Wait a moment. I'll be back right away."
He crept down the shore of the creek, and crossed the slope to the wasteway.
"Is it all right, Zinn?" he called out.
"Yes," came the reply. "The rascal stuck his ugly head out of the winder a moment ago, but I scared him back. He can't escape on this side."
Hocker was about to rejoin his companions when a dark figure came down the road and passed through a strip of moonlight which served to reveal his identity. It was Abner Peck, the farm hand.
In response to a whispered command from Hocker the man jumped into the boat and pulled hastily across the wasteway. Hocker briefly explained the situation, and after a little further conversation Abner recrossed to the main land, while Hocker hurried back to his companions and related what had occurred.
"I sent him up to the house for provisions and a rope," he concluded, "and when he returns we'll try to get the lads out of the closet."
This piece of news cheered Ned considerably, and helped him to endure the suspense with fortitude. Nearly an hour passed by without a sound from the mill or the alert watcher on the hillside.
The creek was still rising by slow degrees, but the sky was rapidly clearing and gave every promise of continued fair weather.
Finally a low whistle was heard, and Hocker noiselessly disappeared. He returned in less than five minutes, and announced that Abner was waiting with the provisions and the rope.
"Now I have an idea for working this little scheme," he added. "Jeffries, you go to the other end of the mill and open a conversation with Moxley—let on you want to reason with him some more. Keep him talking as long as you can, and meanwhile me and this lad will slip up the wasteway in the boat and try to get the lads free. If anything goes wrong, whistle."
Jeffries was quite satisfied to take the part assigned to him. He moved off in one direction, while Hocker and Ned took the other. Bug was left alone in the bushes.
Jeffries was already in conversation with Moxley when his companions reached the wasteway. They could hear the voices of the two men indistinctly.
Hocker motioned Ned to the rear seat beside Abner; then seizing the oars he pulled the boat swiftly into the deep shadows under the mill. The next step was a more difficult one.
Bidding Abner take the oars, and keep the boat in the same position if possible, he tossed the rope over the very beam to which Ned had descended, and catching the end, tied it to the main part of the rope in such a way as to form a sort of swinging loop, which could not slip. By standing on the seat he managed to get one foot in this loop; then clutching both parts of the rope he drew himself quickly up, and after swaying to and fro for an instant, threw one arm over the rafter. An instant later he was straddling it, and pulling the rope after him he untied the loop.
"Now, lad," he whispered, "call your companions. They won't know my voice."
But this was rendered unnecessary by a sudden rasping noise above, as the loose plank was carefully lifted from its place.
"Randy! Randy!" whispered Ned. "It's all right. We're going to rescue you."
A glad murmur of voices was heard, and Randy incautiously replied: "Hurry up then. Now's your time, for Moxley is at the other end of the mill talking."
"Not so loud, lad," whispered Hocker. "Hold steady now and look out for the rope end."
But before Hocker could throw it footsteps came hastily over the floor above, and then a loud shrill whistle was heard—Jeffries's signal.
An instant of breathless suspense was followed by the sudden thrusting of a shiny object through a hole in the floor a little to one side of the closet.
"No you don't," cried Moxley in a savage voice. "You can't play that game on me. Get out of that at once, or I'll riddle you with buckshot. In ten seconds I shoot."
It was not a time to hesitate or parley. The plank dropped into place, and by a reckless swing and drop Hocker landed fairly in the center of the boat, very nearly capsizing it. Abner dropped the oars, and the current whirled the craft swiftly down the wasteway.
It was a bitter disappointment, especially to Ned. Jeffries hastened to the spot as the party landed.
"I'm awful sorry," he said, "but it couldn't be helped. The rascal must have heard some noise you made."
"It's hard luck, that's a fact," muttered Hocker. "I'll square accounts with that scoundrel afore I'm many hours older. The idea of his threatenin' to shoot me with my own gun; that's what riles me most. It's a pity we didn't get the food up. The boys'll have to starve a little longer, I reckon."
"It will be only a little, too," replied Jeffries grimly. "I don't intend to stand any more nonsense. We'll think over the matter and decide on some kind of a move. Moxley has got to come out of that mill. That settles it."
The party went slowly back to the bushes, and Ned satisfied his hunger with the bread and cold meat Abner had brought, while Jeffries and Hocker carried on a low, earnest discussion.
Presently the quiet was interrupted in an unexpected manner. Being restless and unhappy Bug wandered up toward the mill, and unwittingly strayed into a patch of silvery moonlight.
Moxley must have been on the watch, and the sight of his old chum put him into a fury. He was ignorant of Ned's escape, and naturally attributed his misfortunes to Bug.
"You black hearted dog," he cried savagely. "I'll get square with you. If I go to jail you'll go with me. It was all your fault anyhow. You persuaded me to go after these boys, and it was you who broke into the cabin and stole the gun and boat. I tried to keep you from it, but you wouldn't listen.
"Oh, you'll pay up for your treachery. I'll swear to all these things—and a good many more—in court. That is if I get there—which ain't at all likely. And if I do get out of this hole I'll hunt you down, if it takes a year."
Moxley's rage was so violent that Bug prudently retreated to the bushes.
The ruffian kept up his abuse and called Bug all manner of vile names until he was compelled to stop for sheer want of breath.
Bug came down to Hocker and Jeffries and stood before them.
"Look here," he said hoarsely, "what that rascal says ain't true—at least the most of it ain't. What part I had in stealin' the boat I've made amends fur already, and now I'm willing to do a good deal more. A little while ago I felt kinder sorry for Moxley because me an' him has been together a good part of the summer. But when a man goes back on an old friend, an' calls him bad names, an' tries to get him into trouble by lyin', then I'm done with that man fur good.
"I'd sooner see him in jail now than runnin' loose, an' if you give me a fair show an' take these irons off, I'll find a way to get into that mill and capture the mean rascal. He's more'n half drunk now, and I'm a good deal stronger than I look. When the chance comes I'll know how to use it. I'm talkin' on my honor now, an' mean what I say. You needn't be afraid to turn me loose. I can't escape if I'd want to. You know that."
* * *
* * *
CHAPTER XXVII
THE BURNING OF THE MILL
There was no mistaking the sincerity of Bug's proposal, and coming, as it did, at a time when Hocker and Jeffries were unable to decide on any feasible plan of action, they were disposed to give a favorable answer.
"It ain't a bad idea," said Jeffries. "But how do you expect to get in without being seen?"
"I'll find a way," returned Bug. "There air plenty of holes an' loose boards."
"An' Moxley is watchin' them all, too," remarked Hocker. "Your plan ain't very definite so far."
Bug hesitated, and before he could reply something occurred that totally changed the situation.
"I see you again, you rascal," came the farmer's voice from the hillside. "You can't fool me. Get away from that winder now."