“Well?” says I.
“See what it is,” says he.
“I know,” says I; “it’s the feller with the vest. Come on.”
George Piggins looked some put out, and sort of startled-like and flabbergasted. Things was happening too rapid to make George happy. He wasn’t what you’d call quick at any time, and right now he was about seven minutes behind events without any chance of ever catching2 up. The last I see of him for a spell consisted mainly of open mouth, for Mark and I made a jump toward the shore.
When we got there Mr. Man was half-way across in some kind of a boat he had picked up.
“We kin3 hold him off,” says I; “there hain’t but one of him.”
“Maybe,” says Mark. “Scoot back and git that l-l-long pole layin’ near George.”
I done so and got there when Mr. Man was about fifty feet off, and then we all stood up and looked at him and waited. He had his back toward us and didn’t see us till he turned around to take his bearings, and then he turned ’way around and squinted4 and says, “Good mornin’.”
“Good mornin’,” says Mark.
“Campin’?” says the man.
“Not exactly,” says Mark.
“Anybody on the island?”
“We b-b-be,” says Mark.
“See a man sneakin’ around?”
“One in a rowboat,” says Mark, “with a f-f-fancy vest on.”
“Meanin’ me?”
“Calc’late so.”
“Say, young feller, you’re about the size and weight of somebody that sat on my stummick last night. By any chance was you him?”
“I was,” says Mark.
“You’ll excuse me for not recognizin’ your face,” says the man, cheerful-like, “but we was in the dark.”
“We hain’t in the dark now,” says Mark, like he meant more than he said.
“Meanin’, I s’pose, that you’ve found that Piggins feller? I hain’t clear what you want with him, nor why you’re mixin’ into private business, though I was warned to look out for a fat kid that stuttered.”
“Um!” says Mark.
“I’m comin’ ashore5,” says the man.
“I hain’t sure you be,” says Mark.
“Jest watch,” says the man, and he began to row again.
I waited till he got close enough to reach with the pole and then I give him a good shove that made his rickety boat rock like the mischief6. He turned sort of green and let out a bellow7 like a calf8 that seen some kind of a beef ghost.
“Hey! quit that! Want to drownd a feller?” he yelled.
“F-f-figgered on givin’ you a little swim,” says Mark.
“Gosh! boy, I can’t swim a stroke! Go easy there!”
“Um!” says Mark. “Can’t swim, eh? I want to know. Sure you can’t swim?”
“Give you my word. Honest Injun. Cross my heart.”
“Um!” Mark sat down on the mud bank and thought a second. “Let him l-l-land,” says he to me, which I done, not willing, but because a fellow has to obey orders even if he don’t agree with them.
Mr. Man got out on shore, and quick as a wink9 Mark jumped up and give his boat a shove out into the current. It went swinging off out of reach, and the man looked after it like somebody had just up and stole his best friend. He was mad, too.
“Say, what you mean, anyhow? How be I goin’ to git off’n this island?”
“Why,” says Mark, grinning friendly and cordial, “you kin w-w-wait till winter and walk off on the ice.”
“Hain’t there another boat?”
“There is,” says Mark, winking10 at me, “but there won’t be long.”
I got what he meant in a jiffy and off I scooted. It wasn’t five seconds before George’s boat was floating off down-stream and everybody on that island that couldn’t swim was marooned11.
“Now,” says Mark, “let’s be c-c-comfortable.”
“Comfortable!” says the man. “What I want to know is what you mean by this, anyhow? What you mean by shovin’ my boat off? What for do you want to shut me up on this island?”
“Well,” says Mark, “we g-g-got important b-business goin’ on, and it looked like you might muss it up. You can’t muss up much so long as you’re right here, and right here you’re goin’ to stay, if we can m-make you, till our business is done.”
“Then Piggins is here?” says the man.
“Maybe so and maybe not. That’s s-somethin’ you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
“I got it in mind to make all of you kids find out what it feels like to get a blamed good thrashin’,” says the man, getting madder than ever.
“’Twouldn’t f-fetch your boat back,” says Mark.
“How long you calc’late on keepin’ me?”
“Hain’t got no idee—plenty long, though.”
“How do we eat?” says the man.
Mark looked at him and then at me, and then he winked12. “You’ll have to l-look out for your own eatin’,” says he. “We don’t undertake to pervide food.... Now, fellers, this gentleman most l-likely wants to set down and f-figger. Let’s walk away and leave him be and not disturb him. Maybe he’ll want to move around himself and look for George Piggins.”
The man sat down and looked kind of miserable13. We walked off.
“We got to keep him and George apart,” says Mark, “till I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?” says I.
“Oh,” says he, “I got a sort of a kind of a s-scheme.”
He said it with that kind of a way he has that means he ain’t going to tell and there’s no use to ask him. All of us knew him well enough not to waste breath on questions. So we went along till we came to George Piggins, still gaping14 at the money Mark gave him and staring every little while at the shore as if he had something on his mind and didn’t know just exactly what.
“Man just l-landed,” says Mark.
“Who?” says George.
“Detective feller,” says Mark.
“Eh?” says George. “What’s that? What you tryin’ to tell a feller? What’s a detective a-doin’ on this island, I want to know? Eh? Say.”
“He let on he was interested in hogs,” says Mark.
“Sufferin’ boozle-jams!” says George. “S’pose he’s a-lookin’ for me? Eh? Got any idea I’m the feller he’s detectivin’ around after?”
“He asked if we’d seen you,” says Mark.
“What you tell him? You didn’t go and give me away, did you? You didn’t tell on pore old George Piggins?”
“I should s-s-say not. Why, hain’t we here to pertect you from the consequences of that hog15? Hain’t we agreed you should go free and clear of that, and be allowed to come back home jest l-l-like there wa’n’t never no hog at all? Sure we have. And we’re a-goin’ to. And now we’re warnin’ you about that f-feller, and advisin’ you to keep out of his way.”
“Thankee,” says George. “I’ll remember it of you, I will. I hain’t calc’latin’ to fergit sich friends as you be, and I’m a-goin’ to hide me. I know a place and that there detective kin look for me till he turns pink all the way from his chin to his ears before he finds me.”
“Kin you s-swim?” says Mark.
“Swim? Naw. What I want with swimmin’? Ketch me workin’ like that! What? You hain’t got no idee how swimmin’ tires a feller! No, sir, I hain’t never learned to swim, and I don’t figger I ever will.”
Mark sort of scowled16. “B-better hide quick, then,” says he, and off scooted George. Then Mark says to us: “Too much l-laziness is a dum’ nuisance. I f-figgered we’d git George and swim ashore and leave that man to set and watch us. It would have f-fixed everything all right. We could have taken George right to his sister’s and got her to sign that option, and found some witnesses, and then we wouldn’t have had any worry, but now here we be, shut up on an island with George and the detective, and jest at this minnit I don’t see how we’re ever goin’ to git off it with what we want. But we will,” says he, and he snapped shut his jaws17. “I hain’t a bit d-discouraged. Jest watch and see. I’m a-goin’ off to think it out.”
“If we jest had that witness,” says I, “we could swim off and leave both of ’em.”
“Um!...” says Mark. “Um!...” Then he turned perty sudden and walked over to a board and sat down.
“Wish I knew how the mill was gettin’ along,” says I to Tallow. “Maybe it’s busted19 by this time.”
“Bet it hain’t,” says he.
“Anyhow, I wisht we had this thing over and was back to work. I kind of liked workin’ around that mill.”
“Huh!” says he. “Only ones of us four I ever see workin’ was Binney and me.”
“Oh, that!” says I. “Anybody can do what you was doin’, but it takes brains to work the way Mark and me did.”
“If it does,” says he, “then neither of you done anything.”
“Let’s walk around,” says I.
We started off around the edge of the island, and I noticed we didn’t see anything of Mr. Man. He wasn’t in sight any place, and it kind of worried me. Then I happened to look across the river, and down-stream, maybe a hundred yards, was our boat stranded20 on a bar. I made up my mind I’d remember that and tell Mark. It might come in handy. We fussed around maybe an hour and went back, but Mark was still pulling at his cheeks and thinking. Just as we got there he started in to whittle21, and says I to myself something or other’s going to happen now perty quick.
“Seen Mr. Man?” says I to Mark.
“No,” says he.
“He’s disappeared,” says I.
“F-f-find him, then,” says Mark, sharp-like, and off he went to figgering and whittling22 again.
So we started off to hunt for Mr. Man, and pretty quick we heard him moving around among the bushes in the middle of the island. We went over cautious where we could see him, and in a minute you could tell he was searching. He was looking behind every log and under every hanging bush and up into every tree.
“Huntin’ for George,” says I. “Figgers on beatin’ us even if he is stranded on a desert island.”
“What if he finds him?” says Binney.
“Hain’t no idee,” says I.
We followed along, keeping out of sight. Mr. Man was working nearer to the old clearing, when all of a sudden he let out a yell, and we could hear something busting23, and in the shake of a lamb’s tail he popped out of sight. And right there I heard one of the loudest bellers I ever heard in my life.
There wasn’t any use to hide any more, so all of us rushed out to see what had happened. It didn’t take long to find out. Mr. Man had gone along looking for George so busy he forgot to look out for himself, which hain’t a good plan, by any means, and he went and stepped onto some rotten boards that covered an old shallow well that had once been used when the dance-hall was doing business. Yes, sir, he stepped right on those boards and they busted under him, and down he went. When we got there he was standing24 about up to his waist in muddy water, and his head was just so far below the edge of the ground that he couldn’t reach up to it to climb out. He was in a nice mess, and he acted like he didn’t enjoy it. If ever a man was in a hole that man was in one, and there wasn’t the least chance in the world of his getting out of it unless somebody helped him. And the way he bellered! You would have thought he was being scalped. It wasn’t comfortable, of course, but he wasn’t in any danger as I could see. The trouble was he couldn’t get out and he was scared.
“Go tell Mark,” says I to Binney.
Binney ran off, and I leaned over and says to Mr. Man:
“Hello down there, mister.”
“Oh! Wow! Get me out of here! I’m drowndin’! I bet there’s snakes in here! Git me out quick! Please help me out!”
“Wait a minute,” says I.
But he wasn’t willing. He kept up yelling and howling until Mark got there. Mark leaned over and looked at him, and says, with a chuckle25:
“Looks like you got into t-t-trouble somehow.”
“Stop gabblin’,” says the man, “and git me out.”
“Workin’ for Amassa P. Wiggamore, hain’t you?” says Mark.
“Yes. What’s that got to do with it? You hain’t goin’ to see a man drownd, be you?”
“Has he sunk m-much since you first saw him?” says Mark to me. “You know there’s quicksand on this island.”
Mark winked hard. I knew there was quicksand on the island, but it was ’way at the other end and not anywheres near that well.
“Looks some lower ’n he did awhile back,” says I.
“Um!...” says Mark. “Now look here, mister. Us boys started out to run a square, h-honest business. We’re operatin’ a novelty-mill. Your boss is t-tryin’ to bust18 our mill because he wants our dam and won’t p-pay for it. You’re helpin’ him. That’s why you’re after George Piggins. Now we didn’t put you in that well, and you can’t do us no harm while you’re down there. I guess the b-best plan for us is to l-leave you there.”
Mr. Man began to blubber and bleat26 and roar, but Mark didn’t pay a bit of attention.
“Let’s go to town,” says he. “I don’t f-f-figger there’s much danger of his sinkin’ out of sight. Come on, fellers.”
We pertended to start off, but before we had got more than an inch he hollered so loud we was afraid he would bust something, and Mark says:
“Couldn’t f-figger on makin’ a deal with us?”
“No,” says he. “You get me out of here. I’ll settle with you when I git out.”
“Now,” says Mark, “that hain’t no argument to offer. ’Tain’t l-likely we’d help you out for the s-sake of gittin’ a lickin’. We just want a little thing of you. You’re safe and can’t do no harm, so we kin tell you what it is. We found George Piggins, and we got an option from him to that land Wiggamore’s got to have. If you’ll sign it as a witness, we’ll let you out.”
“No,” says he, and he got stubborn and kept quiet. We just sat down and waited and had a good time.
It began to get toward noon. Mark dragged out his lunch and motioned us to come closer to the well. We did and started to eat, talking loud about how good the things were. There were sandwiches and cake and bananas and pickles27 and pie and a lot of stuff. Mark leaned over and hoped the man wasn’t hungry. He said something real hot back. Then, after a minute, he started in to argue and get real sorry for himself. Then he mentioned how hungry he was, and how uncomfortable, and then he began to beg, and all the time we was spilling crumbs28 on his head and talking about our grub. I guess it was more than he could stand.
“Gimme a sandwich,” says he. “I’m ’most starved. Jest one sandwich.”
“We got lots,” says Mark, “but maybe we’ll have to stay here quite a s-s-spell. If you was to see reason and sign your name alongside of George’s, we m-might do somethin’ for you.”
But he wouldn’t. Not then. We talked some more about food and quicksand and snakes, and dropped crumbs on his head, and all to once he sort of caved in.
“Gimme a sandwich,” says he, “and I’ll sign anything.”
“Honest?” says Mark.
“Honest,” says he.
“Maybe,” says Mark, “but we’d rather you s-s-signed first. First sign, then eat, then we’ll help you out.”
“Anything,” says he. “Send along your paper. Anything to get out of this hole.”
“Wiggamore won’t like it,” says Mark.
“Don’t I know it? Well, I hain’t goin’ to tell him. I’m a-goin’ to light out of this town quick. Wiggamore won’t never see me again. I’ve got enough. I’m through with this business. There hain’t no good luck in it.”
“You’ll sign sure?”
“Sure.”
“Get George,” says Mark.
I scooted off and began hollering for George, and pretty soon he hollered back, and when he was sure it was me he came out, and I told him what had happened.
“Mark wants you,” says I.
“Is it safe?”
I told him it was, and he came along. When we got back Mark took his pen, and a note-book to write on, and the option, and talked to the man a minute, and passed them down.
“Is that your signature, George?” says Mark.
“Yes.”
“You want this man to witness it?”
“Yes,” says George, and down in the well Mr. Man signed his name the best he could.
“Tallow,” says Mark, “swim over and git that b-b-boat Plunk saw stranded. We kin m-manage to git him out of the hole!”
Tallow went crashing off, and we let down the bough29 of a tree and pulled the man out. He was a sight. Honest, he was the muddiest, bedraggledest thing you ever saw, and he was tame. I never saw a grown man quite as tame as he was. He hadn’t any fight left in him, and all he wanted to do was to rest and get dry. We built him a fire to dry by, and by that time Tallow came back. Mark motioned to us and we sneaked30 off as unsuspicious as we could, taking George along. We all five went quick to the boat and got in and rowed off.
“What’s the idee?” says I to Mark. “What we maroonin’ him for?”
“I won’t f-feel safe till George’s sister has signed this p-paper, too,” says he, “and if he got ashore he might change his mind and spoil things somehow.”
“Going to leave him there forever?” says I.
“We kin git him to-night,” says he.
So we rowed ashore and went into town. George was a little afraid, especially when we saw the sheriff on the street, but the sheriff just nodded to George and said, “Howdy?” so that was all right.
We headed straight for Miss Piggins’s, and, what with her deafness and her ambition to give George a licking with a broom for all the trouble he’d made her, we had quite a time to get her to sign the option; but she did. Then we started for the mill.
None of us was very easy in our minds, and we wanted to know what had happened since we left. When we got there there wasn’t a sign of life. The mill was as shut down as if there never was and never would be any work done in it.
“Now what?” says I.
“Goodness knows!” says Mark. “But we’ll find out q-q-quick.”
Which we did.
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1
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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3
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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4
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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5
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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6
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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7
bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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8
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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10
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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11
marooned
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| adj.被围困的；孤立无援的；无法脱身的 | |
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12
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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13
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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14
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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15
hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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16
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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19
busted
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| adj. 破产了的，失败了的，被降级的，被逮捕的，被抓到的 动词bust的过去式和过去分词 | |
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20
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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whittle
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| v.削（木头），削减；n.屠刀 | |
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whittling
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的现在分词 ) | |
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23
busting
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| 打破，打碎( bust的现在分词 )； 突击搜查（或搜捕）； （使）降级，降低军阶 | |
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24
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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25
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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26
bleat
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| v.咩咩叫，(讲)废话，哭诉；n.咩咩叫，废话，哭诉 | |
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27
pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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28
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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29
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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30
sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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