He had located Captain
Villaire's party at the old fort, and said that several French
brigands were on guard, by the trail leading from the swamp and at
the cliff overlooking the river.
"I see white boy dare too," he added. "Same boy wot yo' give
money to in Boma."
"Dan Baxter!" ejaculated Sam. "Can it be possible that he is
mixed up in this affair?"
"I can't understand it at all," returned Tom. "But the question
is, now we have tracked the rascals, what is to be done next?"
After a long talk it was resolved to get as close to the old fort
as possible. Cujo said they need not hurry, for it would be best
to wait until nightfall before making any demonstration against
their enemies. The African was very angry to think that the other
natives had deserted the party, but this anger availed them
nothing.
Four o'clock in the afternoon found them on the edge of the swamp
and not far from the bank of the Congo. Beyond was the cliff,
overgrown in every part with rank vegetation, and the ever-present
vines, which hung down like so many ropes of green.
"If we want to get up the wall we won't want any scaling ladders,"
remarked Tom grimly. "Oh, if only we knew that Dick and Uncle
Randolph were safe!"
"I'm going to find out pretty soon," replied Sam. "I'll tell you
what I think. I think they are being held for ransom."
"I was thinking of that, too. But I didn't dream of such a thing
being done down here although, I know it is done further north in
Africa among the Moors and Algerians.
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