CHAPTER II

HOLDING THE FORT

Aghast--horrified--the boys looked at each other in silence. Most boys would have blubbered and given up the game. Not so these two lads. Their faces turned a shade paler, but a stern heroic light shone from their eyes, as they calmly awaited events.

A moment later the constable and the keeper came struggling through the brushwood.

"Here they are, Beagle! Caught at last. It's the two of them. The same old birds," cried Old Click joyfully, as he caught sight of the prisoners. "Good dog! Good old Charlie! There's a dog for you, Beagle! Not another like him for twenty miles around. See how he's run the vagabonds to earth!"

"He's a good dog, I admit, Mr. Click, but he hasn't quite run them to earth yet, seeing that they're a good forty feet above the ground; but we've got them tree'd and cornered this time, proper, eh?"

"Ho, there! Come down, ye young varmint. Come down this minute, or t'ull be worse for you," shouted the keeper.

"I shall come down when I please," said Jamie.

"All right, you son of a poacher. I'll sit down till you do as I tell you. I don't mind a rest and a smoke, but I won't move from this spot till you do come down."

"Won't you move, though? You old fox. You shan't stay there if you have tree'd us. Take that, and that," and as he spoke Jamie hurled with all his might a chunk of dead wood, which he had torn from a withered branch. "I'll teach you to call me names. My father was a better man than you, any day."

The missile hit the keeper on the knee, as he sat on the grass, and gave him a nasty shock. Up he jumped in a rage, and for a couple of minutes he fairly danced and limped around the tree, in spite of his determination a minute ago not to move. He clenched his fist and shook it at the youngsters.

"I'll have the law on ye--ye young jackanapes. What's that, Beagle, but 'battery and assault,' and what's the penalty for it?"

"Twenty strokes of the birch, Mr. Click, and ten years' imprisonment, or, more likely, transportation for life."

"Aye, that's it--transportation. Like your father got, you young gallows-bird."

This second taunt about his father made the blood rush to the lad's face, and he hurled another chunk of wood at the irate keeper, which narrowly missed his head, but hit the hound instead, which set up a frightful yell and bolted into the wood, and despite all the blandishments of its master refused to come anywhere near the zone of fire again.

The boys were as agile as monkeys aloft, and they quickly got several more pieces of dead timber ready for their captors. Things were turning out much better than they feared, and they were not having the worst of it, so far, at least. How it would all end it was impossible to say, but there was just this chance, that they might drive away the two men by their determined assault, until an opportunity occurred for them to slip down the tree; and once on the ground, with even a dozen yards start, they could easily leave their pursuers behind. As for the hound--well, another chunk of wood would about settle him.

Both the keeper and the constable were now very chary about showing themselves, after the narrow escape of the former, for the boys were so expert with the missiles, and so determined in their opposition that the two men kept behind the tree trunks, some twenty or thirty feet away. Both boys had their pea-shooters, with a plentiful supply of dry wicken-berries, and whenever their opponents showed so much as an inch of face they were mercilessly pelted.

"You young rascals. You shall pay dearly for this. Do ye know ye're insulting the law?" cried the constable, trying hard to dodge the pea-shooters as he spoke.

"Why don't you go home?" called out Jack. "If either of you come near the tree again, we'll break every bone in your body. We've plenty of wood here."

This game was continued for more than half-an-hour, at the end of which time the two men got behind a thick holly bush near by, and began to consult together.

The next moment the boys would have been free, for while the keepers were thus engaged, their prisoners were preparing to slide down the tree and make a dash for it, when, observing this, the men rushed towards the tree just in time to prevent them.

"Come back, Jamie! Come back----" cried his companion, hurling at the same instant another piece of wood at Beagle, who made a desperate spring, and tried to catch hold of Jamie's legs, as he hung dangling from a branch. The missile took effect, and the constable quickly retreated, roaring like the "Bull of Bashan."

The next moment Old Click emerged from the wood with an armful of bracken, with which he quickly kindled a fire. Soon a thick column of smoke arose, and drifted towards the tree. More and more bracken and brushwood were piled on, and the smoke became chokingly dense up there in the tree, for the fire had been lit with the express purpose of smoking them out.

The boys plied them valiantly with wood-chunks and wicken-berries, but their ammunition soon failed them. The smoke had become dreadful now. They were nearly choked with it, and were already half-blinded. What could they do? Still they held out. They mounted to the very top of the tree, and sat there with their faces buried in their hands to keep that suffocating smoke from their eyes and nostrils.

"Coming down now, sir?" asked the keeper, who had now begun to light another fire at the root of the tree, for he saw that there was no more ammunition aloft, but he had counted without his host.

"No, you villains! Take that!--and that!" shouted Jack, at the same time hurling down through the smoke first one boot and then another, as a last resort.

The second boot caught Old Click in the middle of the back as he was stooping down to tend the fire, and made him give vent to a yell which resounded through the woods. This incident evoked a bit of high-sounding English that I will not here repeat--suffice it to say that the yell brought Beagle, who had gone to fetch a woodman's axe, running to the spot to see what had happened.

The keeper sat down on the grass for a few moments, and the boys were afraid that they had killed him, but in a little while he sprang up again and cried out angrily--

"I'll give you two minutes to come down, gentlemen. At the end of that time I shall cut down the tree."

There was no answer, and at the end of the two minutes the keeper spoke again.

"Will you come down and go quietly to the lock-up?" Still no answer, and the next moment----

"Chip!--chip!" went the axe, and at every stroke the tall tree shook. The trunk was more than half-way through now, and the whole stem trembled with the blows, when a voice called from aloft, through the smoke--

"Stop! Mr. Click, if you please."

Quite willing to take a brief rest and to enjoy the discomfort of the youngsters, the keeper stayed his axe for a moment.

"We'll come down, Mr. Click, if you won't take us to the lock-up. We've only had six of your beastly trout, and they were not worth two-pence each, but we're willing to pay you for them, and to come down, if you won't take us before the magistrates. We've done nothing to deserve it," said Jack, as he prepared to descend.

"Do you hear that, Beagle? That's what I call trying to bribe an honest man. What do you call it?"

"That's it--bribery and corruption," replied the constable.

"The terms of surrender are unconditional, you young jackanapes." And with that Click went to work with the axe again. The tree quivered, and gave signs that it was about to fall.

"Stop! Stop! We're coming down." And then, realising that the game was up, the two chums quietly slid down the trunk into the arms of their captors, and were triumphantly marched off to the lock-up.

It was getting dark when they reached this ugly little building, but they were unceremoniously thrust inside, and when the key grated in the lock and the two men had left them, with only the rats for their companions, they were just a little bit "skeered."

"Jamie! Where are you?" asked Jack, when they had been left alone in the silence and the darkness for some minutes.

"Here! Here!" cried his companion, and they crept along the wall until they were able to touch each other. Then they cowered down in a corner, against the wall.

"We'll get out of this before morning, else my name's not Jack Elliot, and then we'll do that which we've often spoken about. We'll run away--we'll go to sea--we'll tramp to Liverpool, and we'll find a ship going abroad, and we'll get taken aboard somehow--and--and we'll stick together, and make our fortunes. What say you, Jamie?"

"Jack, you're a brick. Give me your hand. I'll go with you, and we'll stick together. I've no father and no mother, and no friends--except you. All the world's against us. Old Click and Beagle have been trying to catch us for months, and now they've done it. They'll brag about it, and the whole village will laugh at us."

"Yes, they've threatened to turn us out of school, and now they'll perhaps send us to prison, just for taking a few trout, as though God didn't make the trout, and the streams, and the woods for all of us. And to-morrow they'll bring us before the magistrates----"

"Will they, though? They won't have the chance. Just hold this, while I get a light, and then we'll examine the place," and Jamie pulled a piece of tar-band out of his pocket, unravelled the end, and handed it to his companion. Next, he took out his tinder-box, and quickly threw a shower of sparks on to the tow, which produced a little flame, about the size of a rushlight. Then they began to look around them.

It was a common type of village lock-up, built of rough, undressed stones from the neighbouring quarries. It had massive oaken doors, which had been securely locked, and there were no windows, for the only opening was a small aperture, eighteen inches square, and about seven feet from the ground, and it was caged by several rusty iron bars. The floor was flagged with stones and covered with rushes.

The place was used merely as a temporary lock-up for poachers and other law-breakers before their transference to the county gaol, and was situated just outside the village. In a few minutes they had examined the doors, the walls and the floor, but they sought in vain for any spot that offered a chance of escape.

"The grating, Jack! Let's try the grating. I reckon that's our only chance. Here, give me a leg! Let me climb on to your shoulders and try the bars." This was no sooner said than done.

"Here's luck! The middle bar is filed through at one end, and here on the ledge is a rusty file, thick with cobwebs. How jolly! Some one's been at this game before, and it's never been discovered. Half the work's been done for us, but it must have been many years ago. I believe if we can file through the other end of this bar we can squirm through."

"I wonder who did it?"

"Blessings on his head, whoever or wherever he is. May he never want a friend!"

It was indeed a long time ago since the file had been used. It had lain there for twelve years hidden by cobwebs and dust, and the poacher who had used it had been transported.

For the next half-hour the two boys took turns filing away at that thick iron bar, standing or kneeling on each other's shoulders. Suddenly at the end of that time voices were heard, and then footsteps approaching.

"Sh! Sh! Put out the light, Jamie, quick! Some one is coming." The light was extinguished, and the prisoners sat down quietly on the rush-strewn floor.

Who could it be? Had the magistrates sent some one already to remove them to the county gaol? If so, their chances of escape were already cut off. They determined to wait quietly and see, for this was all they could do.

Nearer and nearer came the sounds they had previously heard. The footsteps halted outside the heavy doors. The rays of light from a lanthorn flashed through the interstices and the openings. Some one was examining the lock. Who could it be? The boys' hearts quaked with fear lest their efforts at escape should be foiled. Then they heard the voices of their captors.

"They ain't broke gaol yet, Beagle! The lock's safe and sound. We've got them safe--this time," said Old Click.

"Have you, though?" whispered Jack, under his breath.

"Hullo, there, ye young varmints! Who's master now? You won't do any more poaching in Hawk Woods, I'll warrant," said the keeper, who seemed to have come purposely to poke fun at them. Then Jamie pretended to sob piteously.

"Oh, it's crying ye are, is it? Ah, well, it's too late for repentance now. Ye should ha' thought o' that before."

"Come away now, Mr. Click. They're safe till the morning, anyhow. Then we can bring them before the magistrates and have them whipped, and sent to prison, and perhaps transported. Come away," said Beagle.

"I'd like to see the man who would dare to whip me," cried out Jack, his voice ringing with anger and defiance.

"Tut, tut! my little man! When a boy begins training so early for the gallows, what can he expect? Howsoever, 'tis no use argefying, so I'll just bid ye good-night." After which they both went off chuckling and saying--

"'Twill be a lesson for them. T' squire and schoolmaster seemed mightily pleased over it."

To do the janitors justice, however, I must here say that it was not intended to punish the lads further than by letting them spend the night in the lock-up, in the hope that this might teach them a severe lesson. To this course Jack's father and the schoolmaster, who had been already informed, quite agreed.

The lads, however, took it more seriously, and felt convinced from precedents within their memory that the full severity of the law would be meted out to them, and they determined to prevent it by escaping and running away from Burnside and saving their families this terrible disgrace, for Jamie still looked upon his aunt as his guardian, and though Jack had no mother or sisters, he had a father and brothers. Besides, they were just at that age when romance begins; for all their heroes had commenced life by running away.

As soon, therefore, as their janitors were out of hearing, they set to work again with the rusty old file, which by this time had lost much of its rust and had begun to bite keenly. It was hard work, but their freedom and their future were at stake. They were hungry, too, for since dinner they had tasted nothing but those few trout which they had taken from the burn.

It was damp and chilly too, but they did not feel the cold, for they were aglow with the exercise and flushed with the promise of victory.

"Hurrah! It's through at last!" exclaimed Jamie, as the file slipped and the heavy bar fell upon the floor with a jangle and a jar.

"Bravo, old fellow! Well done."

Jamie put the file in his pocket, and swung himself up by the remaining bars. There was now an aperture about eleven inches square, and though it required a bit of a struggle to squeeze through that awkward gap, yet they had both done more difficult things than that in the past, and so within five minutes they were both standing in the road outside the lock-up.