Part 5 (1/2)
”I don't wonder you don't care to go hunting,” said Sam. ”I'd feel the same way.”
”I have never visited the forest since the time the tragedy took place,” answered Harold Bird. ”At first I thought to sell off the stretch of land to a lumber company, but now I have changed my mind, and I intend to give it to the heirs of Blazen, if any appear.”
”Is it a valuable tract?” asked Fred.
”The lumber company offered me twenty thousand dollars for it.”
”If your father was drowned it is queer that you never heard anything of his body,” said Fred.
”Bodies of drowned people are not always recovered,” answered the young Southerner. ”But he must have been drowned, for if he had been alive we surely would have heard something of him. The reward we offered set hundreds of people to hunting for him.”
”It is certainly a mystery,” said d.i.c.k. ”I suppose you'd give a good deal to have it cleared up.
”I'd give half of what I am worth,” answered Harold Bird, earnestly.
CHAPTER V
STUCK IN THE MUD
Noon found our friends at the town of Benton--a place of some importance in the cotton trade. Without delay d.i.c.k sought out the man who had had to do with the telegrams.
”I can't tell you much more than what I put in the message,” said the man. ”I saw the houseboat out yonder and headed in that direction.
I was watching her when a fog came up and hid her from view.”
”I think I can follow her,” put in Harold Bird. ”Anyway, we can try.”
”Did those fellows steal the houseboat?” questioned the Benton man.
”They did.”
”Then I hope you catch them.”
Our friends did not stop to get dinner, but took their lunch on board of the _Venus_. The river at Benton was broad and deep and consequently Harold Bird turned on full speed, sending the launch forward with such a rush that the water often came in a shower of spray over the bow.
”I may be mistaken, but I have an idea that those rascals headed for Lake Sico,” said the young Southerner. ”Gasper Pold used to hang around that lake, and most likely there are men there who would aid him in disposing of whatever is on the _Dora_ of value.”
”Where is Lake Sico?” asked Sam.
”About fifteen miles from here. It is a very broad and shallow sheet of water, and is reached by a narrow and tortuous bayou all of four miles long. One end of the lake is a perfect wilderness of bushes and brake--an ideal hiding-place for the houseboat.”
”Then perhaps we had better explore the lake,” said Tom.
”There is only one objection,” answered d.i.c.k. ”If the houseboat is not there, we'll be losing a lot of valuable time.”
”Is the entrance to the bayou very narrow?” asked Tom. ”For if it is, the houseboat would be apt to strike the mud sh.o.r.e and leave marks.”
”Yes, it is narrow, and we'll look for marks by all means,” answered the young Southerner.
As they were moving with the stream it did not take the launch long to reach the bayou that connected the lake with the Mississippi. But close to the bayou entrance the swirling waters had cast up a ridge or bar of mud and on this the launch slid and stuck fast.