NO doubt Yefraim Issakoff of the saw-mill was wise enough to know that none of the usual modes of deception would be of any use with such an experienced skipper as old Ivan. And the spy had probably witnessed and duly informed his master that the clever raftsman had joined the "Swan" at the last stopping-place. So, putting their wicked heads together, Issakoff and his men devised another method which they thought was sure of success.
Meanwhile, the "Swan," towed at a fine pace by Kostia and Sasha—reached the narrow place where the river began to curve, and it found no rope stretched under water to bar their progress. The sturdy towing-men were to have been taken on board just before the curve was reached, as they would be needed for working the poles and steadying the raft amid the rush and swirl of the water. But just as the "Swan" was about to pick up first one, then another of the skipper's sons, there came an agonised scream from the river round the corner and out of sight of the raftsmen.
"Help! Help!" again yelled the voice. "I perish! I drown! Oh help!"
The screams diverted the attention of Kostia and Sasha, who, instead of trying to board the "Swan," pressed forward to the point of land that formed the river's curve.
Deprived of their help, it was all that Ivan, Vassia, and Sergey could do, to get the clumsy craft round the corner. And as it was, the dash of the water swept the "Swan" once sharply against the rock, and but for the old skipper's outstretched hand, Sergey would have been jerked off into the water.
As soon as the raft had rounded the curve, those on the deck, and Kostia and Sasha on opposite banks—could see a man struggling in the water. The two young men rushed forward, ready to plunge to his rescue, when suddenly the drowning man's left cheek came to view, and lo, across it flamed the scarlet mark. Also, at that very moment, it flashed upon all the witnesses, both on and off the raft, that the so-called drowning man was a fraud, and only pretending to be in distress.
"Hold, Sasha!" cried Kostia from the edge of the stream. "Do nothing! It is the spy! Father, take us on board quick! You need not stop, come near the bank, and I will leap, and then we will pick up Sasha from his side."
But almost before the words were out of his mouth, a strong noosed cord was thrown round him from behind, where the trees were thick, and the deepest shadows fell. And at the same moment Sasha too dropped to the ground on the bank, captured in the same manner by invisible enemies. In a trice the nooses were drawn taut round the shoulders and arms of the young men, and they were fastened to pine-trees. Others of the enemy caught the raft by means of boat-hooks strapped to long poles, and in spite of all that Ivan, Vassia, and Sergey could do, the "Swan" was pulled to shore and made fast, and the old skipper and his son were bound just as Kostia and Sasha had been.
In the struggle and confusion, however, Sergey was overlooked, and so managed to slip out of sight and hide. But as soon as the marauding party began to move away with their prisoners, the boy followed, hiding and dodging among the trees, rightly judging that as he was free, he might perhaps be of service later. The raft could not well be broken up before morning, so it was safe enough at the bank.
Sergey, keeping the raiders and their four prisoners well in sight, followed through the wood, and from the thick shelter of the undergrowth watched the whole party emerge into a wide open space where stood the saw-mill, and near it a house and a shed. He noticed that Sasha was one of the prisoners, so that the men who secured him on the other bank of the river, must have punted him across. And the lad wondered at the care and fore-thought spent in making their wicked plan so successful. He saw the prisoners thrust into the shed, and a heavy bolt shot home to keep them safe. All the raiders went into the house, and Sergey noticed how one room on the ground-floor was lighted up just after the men entered.
After a while, he ventured to come out from his hiding-place, and peep in through the uncurtained window, which, though covered nearly all over with dust and dirt, had one clean corner which gave him a good view. He saw the whole party gathered round a table on which were two huge bottles of vodki and a number of glasses. At the head of the table sat a middle-aged, wicked-looking man, to whom the rest seemed to defer.
This, Sergey was sure, must be Yefraim Issakoff, the owner of the saw-mill.
The men were a rough, wild set of follows, just the sort to carry out the bidding of such a master. In these lonely places all kinds of crimes are committed and go unpunished, for the police are few, even in the towns, and are so wretchedly paid that they are always open to a bribe from any malefactor who will make it worth while for them to shut their official eyes.
Meanwhile, the only member of the "Swan's" crew at liberty, and fully realising how much might depend upon his knowing the exact position of affairs, Sergey watched and listened intently, seeing and hearing all that passed.
"Well, my men," roared Issakoff, "we've made a grand haul to-night!"
"Ay, it was a fine bit of work, it was," responded the spy; "especially my drowning."
"Thou hast always some compliment to pay thyself, young Scratch-face!" said another of the men. "By my faith, if thou—"
"I suppose that barn is safe?" interrupted Issakoff.
"Ay, we could keep a wild bull in it," replied a big burly man who was shaggy enough for a bear. "It's as strong as a prison."
"'What became of that boy?" inquired Issakoff. "There 'was' a boy, wasn't there?"
At this mention of himself, "that boy" cowered to the earth for a minute or two, but he could hear the reply in the spy's voice.
"Yes, I think there was a boy, but he doesn't count; he was quite small, and I dare say he was drowned."
"We'll hope so," rejoined Issakoff. "Now, brothers, pass the bottles round. No need to keep sober to-night. The raft is ours, the men are safe, and if there is any fuss to-morrow, I shall lodge information in the next town and say I caught them carrying off my property, and so I took their raft for compensation. So now, my children, let us drink to the song of the dying 'Swan,' and to-morrow the 'Swan' will be dead!" And Yefraim Issakoff lifted his glass high in air, and laughed loud and long.
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