We reached the edge of the cane-brake in a few minutes, and there we stopped to reconnoiter.

There was not a man, dog, or even a horse in sight; and having satisfied ourselves on this point, we sprang out of our concealment, and ran toward the cabin.

Tom led the way up the grape-vine, carrying the valise in his teeth. I followed close behind him, with both guns slung over my shoulder, and presently we found ourselves safe in our prison again.

“I call this a masterly piece of strategy,” panted Tom, drawing his coat-sleeve across his forehead. “It will take them a long time to find out where we are, and delay will serve us as well as any thing else. All we want is to keep out of their clutches until the settlers arrive.”

250The first business in hand was to fasten the doors, which was easily done. There happened to be several short pieces of plank in Tom’s prison, and from these we selected two which answered our purpose admirably. By putting one end under the locks and bracing the other end against the floor, we secured both doors so effectually that, as long as the locks remained in their places, no power that could be applied on the outside could force them open.

There was but one way in which our enemies could effect an entrance, and that was by cutting down the doors; but we did not think they would be reckless enough to attempt that in the face of our double-barrels.

After we had fastened the doors, Tom sat down on the floor to rest after his exertions, and I stood at the window, awaiting the return of Luke Redman and his friends.

The sound of voices, which came faintly to my ears, told me that they were still searching for our trail along the bank of the bayou, and during the next ten minutes they passed all around the island.

251By that time they must have been satisfied that we were still in the cane-brake, for they came back to the house in a body, the dogs leading the way.

Luke Redman, whose face was white with rage and excitement, rode directly to the door of the cabin and dismounted to put the hounds on our trail.

“Hunt ’em up!” he shouted, running his hand along the ground and waving it in the direction of our supposed hiding-place. “Hunt ’em up! Be off with you!”

The dogs were willing enough to follow our trail, now that they were encouraged by the voice and presence of their masters. They quickly took up the scent, and ran yelping toward the cane-brake, with the horsemen close at their heels.

For a few moments their music grew fainter and fainter, and then began to increase in volume. Presently they reappeared, still followed by the horsemen, and ran straight to the foot of the grape-vine.

I began to tremble now, but Tom was as cool as a cucumber.

252“Wal, I never did see sich fools of dogs in all my born days,” exclaimed Barney, as the hounds looked up at the window, and began barking furiously. “They’ve follered the back track.”

“That’s jest what they’ve done,” said Luke Redman, in great disgust. “If I had my gun in my hands, I would shoot the last blessed one on ’em. Any body with half sense could tell that them boys wouldn’t come back here an’ go up into them rooms arter they were onct safe out of ’em. Call ’em away, an’ put ’em on the trail ag’in.”

This was easier said than done. The hounds understood their business much better than Barney, and they positively refused to yield obedience to his commands.

They knew they had treed their game, and, if they were capable of thinking at all, were doubtless wondering why their master did not make an effort to secure it. Even Luke Redman’s voice had no effect upon them; and, becoming highly enraged at last, he threw himself from his horse, and falling upon them with his rawhide, sent them yelping right and left.

253“Thar, dog-gone you!” he shouted, “cl’ar yourselves! I’ll never trust none on you ag’in. Barney,” he added, suddenly, a bright idea striking him, “s’pose you an’ Jake run up stairs an’ look into them rooms. ’Twont do no harm, although I know the boys hain’t thar.”

Barney and his brother disappeared in the house, and presently we heard them coming up the stairs. They went to the door of my prison first, and were plainly very much surprised when it refused to open for them. They turned the key several times, to make sure that they had unlocked it, and pushed with all their might, but with no better success than before. Then they tried the other door, but found it equally well secured.

They kept up a chorus of questions and ejaculations all the while, and Tom and I stood leaning on our guns, smiling complacently at one another, and wondering how the matter would end.

The two Dragoons must have become suspicious at last, for they sunk their voices to a whisper, and after holding a short consultation, Barney cried out, in an excited tone: 254“Pap! I say, pap! Dog-gone my buttons, here they be!”

Our faces lengthened out very suddenly when we heard this.

Things began to get exciting now. Barney’s announcement must have occasioned great surprise among the outlaw crew below.

The loud conversation they had kept up ceased instantly, and after a moment’s pause, Luke Redman said:

“I reckon you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, Barney.”

“Not if I know myself, I hain’t,” answered the leader of the Swamp Dragoons. “Something’s the matter with these yere doors, ’cause they won’t open.”

Luke Redman, greatly astonished at this piece of news, rushed into the house and came up the stairs half a dozen steps at a time. He seized the key, turned it in the lock, and threw all his ponderous weight against the door, but it did not give an inch. The other was equally obstinate; and after a few ineffectual attempts to force an entrance, the robber stooped down and looked through the key-hole. He did not 255see any thing, however, for Tom and I were wise enough to keep out of sight.

“Thar ain’t nobody in thar,” said he, “but I reckon I know how the matter stands. They fastened the door afore they left. Barney, you go down an’ climb up that grape-vine, an’ look in an’ see if they didn’t.”

“Wal, now, jest hold your breath till I go, will you?” replied Barney. “When you see me foolin’ with them two fellers, you’ll see a weasel asleep. They’ve got guns. I hain’t a-goin’ to stir a step.”

“You’re a coward!” exclaimed his father, angrily. “If the grape-vine would b’ar my weight, I would go myself; but it won’t. Jake, are you a coward, too?”

“No, I hain’t,” replied that worthy. “I’ll go, ’cause I know they ain’t thar.”

Luke Redman and his boys descended the stairs, and, looking out of the window again, we saw Jake pull off his coat and begin the ascent of the grape-vine.

“What is to be done now?” I asked, with some uneasiness. “It won’t be safe to allow him to come up here.”

256“Oh, yes, let him come on,” replied Tom. “We’ll go into the other room, and if he comes in there, we’ll see that he don’t get out again in a hurry. You know we are working for time now, and it makes little difference what we do.”

Tom, as usual, carried his point. We watched Jake until he had ascended almost within reach of us, and then retreating into my prison, crouched one on each side of the opening, and waited for him to make his appearance.

We heard the grape-vine rustling against the side of the cliff, and presently Jake’s head and shoulders darkened the window.

He panted loudly with the violence of his exertions, and after a little delay, during which he was doubtless looking all about the room, he sang out: “Wal, consarn it all!”

“What’s to do?” asked Luke Redman from below.

“Why, they’ve got a plank fast agin’ the door, an’ that’s why we couldn’t open it,” answered Jake. “But thar ain’t nobody here.”

257“Go through into the other room,” said his father.

This command wa............