Kitabı oku: «The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound», sayfa 10

CHAPTER XXVIII
MORE STARTLING NEWS

Bud Phillips looked somewhat confused. Apparently, he did not figure any too well in what he felt it his duty to confess to Paul and his chums.

“I’m ashamed that I kept mum about it when the old man accused some of you fellers of startin’ the fire, an’ gettin’ at his tight wad,” he went on to say; and it can be easily understood that this beginning gave Paul a start.

“Oh! it’s about that ugly business, is it?” the scout-master remarked, frowning a little, for, naturally, he instantly conceived the idea that Hank and his three reckless cronies must have had a hand in that outrage.

That Hank guessed what was flitting through the other’s mind was plainly indicated by the haste with which he cried out:

“Don’t git it in your head we had anything to do with that fire, Paul, nor yet with tappin’ the old man’s safe. I know we ain’t got any too good reputations ’round Stanhope, but it’s to be hoped we ain’t dropped so low as that. Skip along, Bud, an’ tell what you saw.”

“Why, it’s this way,” continued the narrator, eagerly. “I chanced to be Johnny-on-the-spot that night, being ’mong the first to arrive when old Briggs started to scream that his store was afire. Never mind how it came that way. And Paul, I saw two figures a-runnin’ away right when I came up, runnin’ like they might be afraid o’ bein’ seen an’ grabbed.”

“Were they close enough for you to notice who they were?” asked Paul, taking a deep interest in the narration, since he and his chums had been accused of doing the deed in the presence of many of Stanhope’s good people.

“Oh! I saw ’em lookin’ back as they hurried away,” admitted Bud. “And, Paul, they were those same two tramps we had the trouble with that day. You remember we ran the pair out o’ town, bombardin’ ’em with rocks.”

Paul could plainly see the happening in his memory, with the two hoboes turning when at a safe distance to shake their fists at the boys. Evidently their rough reception all around had caused them to have a bitter feeling toward the citizens of Stanhope, and they had come back later on to have their revenge.

“Now that I think of it,” Paul went on to say, “they had just come out of the store when you ran afoul of the pair. The chances are that Mr. Briggs treated them as sourly as he does all their class, and they were furiously mad at him.”

“Yes,” added Bobolink, “and while in there they must have noticed where he had his safe. Maybe they saw him putting money in it.”

“I’m glad you told me this, Bud,” the scout-master confessed, “because it goes part way to clear up the mystery of that fire and robbery.”

“Bud was meanin’ to tell all about it when we got back,” said Hank. “He kept still because he heard Briggs accuse you scouts of the fire racket, and Bud just then thought it too good a joke to spoil. But we’ve been talkin’ it over, and come to the conclusion we owed it to the community to set ’em right.”

This sounded rather lofty, but Paul guessed that there must be another reason back of the determination to tell. These fellows had decided that possibly suspicion might be directed toward them, and, as they had had enough trouble already without taking more on their shoulders, it would be the part of wisdom to start the ball rolling in the right quarter.

“Well, we must be going,” said Paul.

“Do you reckon on stayin’ out your time up here?” queried Hank.

“We haven’t decided that yet,” replied the scout-master; “but the chances are we shall conclude to cut the trip short and get back home. This heavy snow has spoiled a good many plans we’d laid out; and we might be having a better time of it with the rest of the fellows at home. We’re going to talk it over and by to-morrow settle on our plans.”

“Here’s where we get busy and start on the return hike,” announced Tom Betts, just as cheerily as though he were not already feeling the effects of that stiff plunge through the deep snowdrifts, and secretly faced the return trip with more or less apprehension.

Hank and his followers came out of their den to wave a hearty farewell after their late rescuers. Just then all animosities had died in their hearts, and they could look upon the scouts without the least bitterness.

“Sounds all mighty fine, I must say,” remarked Bobolink, as they pushed along, after losing sight of the quartette standing at the foot of the snowy hill, “but somehow I don’t seem to feel it’s going to last. That Hank’s got it in him to be a tough character, and it’d be next door to a miracle if he ever changed his ways.”

“Do you think he will, Paul?” demanded Jud, flatly.

“Ask me something easy,” laughed the scout-master. “It all depends on Hank himself. If he once took a notion to make a man of himself, I believe he could do it no matter what happened. He’s got the grit, but without the real desire that isn’t going to count for much. Time alone will tell.”

“Well, we’ve seen something like that happen right in our town, you know,” Bobolink went on to say, reflectively, as he trudged along close to the heels of the one in front of him, for they were going “Indian-file,” following the sinuous trail made during their preceding trip.

“I was talking with the other Jud,” remarked Jud Elderkin just then, “and he gave me a pointer that might be worth something. I don’t know just why he chose to confide it to me, instead of speaking out, but he did.”

“Was it, too, about the fire and the robbery?” asked Tom Betts.

“It amounted to the same thing, I should say,” replied Jud, “because it was connected with the hoboes.”

“Go on and tell us then,” urged Bobolink.

“He says they’re up in this part of the country,” asserted the other.

“Wow! that begins to look as if we might be running across the ugly pair after all!” exclaimed Tom Betts, his face lighting up with eagerness. “Now wouldn’t it be queer if we managed to capture the yeggs and turn ’em over to the authorities? Paul, how about that now?”

“Oh! you’re getting too far ahead of the game, Tom,” he was told. “We must know a good deal more about this business before we could decide to take such desperate chances.”

“But if the opportunity came along, wouldn’t it be our duty to cage the rascals?” the persistent Tom demanded.

“Perhaps it might,” Paul told him. “But Jud, did he explain to you how he came to know the tramps were up here in the woods above Lake Tokala?”

“Just what he did,” replied the other, promptly. “It seems that Jud, while he was out hunting, had a glimpse of one of the ugly pair the day before this storm hit us. It gave him a chance to trail the man in order to see what he was worth in that line. And, Paul, he did his work so well that he followed the fellow all the way to where the two of them had put up.”

“And that was where, Jud?” demanded the leader of the troop.

“There’s an old dilapidated cabin half-way between here and the lake,” explained Jud. “Maybe Tolly Tip knows about it.”

“Sure that I do!” responded the woodsman. “’Twas used years ago by some charcoal burners, but has been goin’ to decay this long time. Mebbe now they’ve patched up the broken roof, and mane to stay there awhile. It’s in a snug spot, and mighty well protected from the wind in winters.”

“That’s the place,” Jud assured them. “The hoboes are hanging out there, and seem to have plenty to eat, so Jud Mabley told me. If we concluded to take a look in at ’em on our way home it could be done easy enough, I’d think.”

“We’ll talk it over,” decided Paul. “We must remember that in all likelihood they’re a desperate pair, and well armed. As a rule scouts have no business to constitute themselves criminal catchers, though in this case it’s a bit different.”

“Because we’ve been publicly accused by Mr. Briggs of being the persons who set his old store on fire, just in spite!” declared Bobolink, briskly enough. “And say! wouldn’t it be a bully trick if we could take those two tramps back with us, having the goods on them? Then we’d say to Mr. Briggs: ‘There you are, sir! These are the men you want! And we’d trouble you to make your apology just as public as your hasty accusation was.’”

“Hurrah!” cried Tom Betts. “That’s the ticket.”

But Paul was not to be hurried into giving a decision. He wanted more time to consider matters, and settle his plan of campaign. The other scouts, however, found little reason to doubt that in the end he would conclude to look favorably on the bold proposition Jud had advanced.

Just as they had anticipated, the return journey was not anywhere nearly so strenuous an undertaking as the outward tramp had been. Even where they had to cross great drifts a passage had been broken for them, and the wind, not being high, had failed to fill up the gaps thus far.

The rescue party arrived in the vicinity of the cabin long before sundown, and could catch whiffs of the wood smoke that blew their way, which gave promise of the delightful warmth they would find once inside the forest retreat.

CHAPTER XXIX
THE WILD DOG PACK

“Well! well! what under the sun’s been going on here while we’ve been away?”

Bobolink burst out with this exclamation the very minute he passed hastily in at the cabin door. A jolly fire blazed on the hearth, and the interior of the cabin was well lighted by the flames.

Paul, as well as all the other arrivals, stared. And well they might, for Sandy Griggs and Bluff were swathed in seemingly innumerable bandages. They looked a bit sheepish too, even while grinning amiably.

“Oh! ’tisn’t as bad as it seems, fellows!” sang out Spider Sexton, cheerfully. “Phil thought it best to wash every scratch with that stuff we keep for such things, so as to avoid any danger of blood poisoning. But shucks! they got off pretty easy, let me tell you.”

“What happened?” demanded Jud Elderkin, curiously. “Did they run across that old bear after all, and get scratched or bitten?”

“Or was it the other bobcat that came around to smell the pelt of his mate, and gave you something of a tussle?” asked Bobolink.

“Both away off your base,” said Bluff, with a fresh grin. “It was dogs, that’s all.”

“Dogs!” echoed Jud, unbelievingly. “You must mean wolves, don’t you? They look a heap like some kinds of mongrel dogs.”

“’Tis the lad as knows what he is talkin’ about, I guess,” remarked Tolly Tip just then. “Sure, for these many moons now there’s been a pack av thim wild dogs a-runnin’ through the woods. Many a night have I listened to the same bayin’ and yappin’ as they trailed after a deer.”

A flash of understanding came into Jud’s face.

“Oh! now I see what you mean,” he went on to say. “Wild dogs they were, that for some reason have abandoned their homes with people, and gone back to the old free hunting ways of their ancestors. I’ve heard about such things. But say! how did it happen they tackled you two?”

Bluff and his guilty companion exchanged looks, and as he scratched his head the former went on to confess.

“Why, you see, it was this way,” he began. “Sandy and I began to get awful tired of staying indoors after you fellows went away. Three days of it was just too much for our active natures to stand. So we made up a plan to take a little walk around, and see if we could run across any game.”

At that Sandy held up a couple of partridges.

“All we got, and all we saw,” he remarked, “but they were enough to set that savage bunch of wild dogs on us. Whew! but they were hungry and reckless. But you go on and tell the story, Bluff.”

“When we saw them heading our way,” continued the other, “we thought they were just ordinary dogs running loose. But as they came closer both of us began to see that they were a savage looking lot. In the lead was a big mastiff that looked like a lion to us.”

“But you had your guns with you, didn’t you?” asked Jud.

“That’s right, we did,” replied Bluff. “But you see before we made up our minds the kiyi crowd was dangerous they were nearly on us, yelping and snapping like everything. That big chap in the lead gave me a shiver just to look at him; and there were three others coming full-tilt close behind him.”

“We’ve since made up our minds,” again interrupted Sandy, “that they must have scented our birds, and were crazy to get them. Though even if we’d thrown the partridges away I believe the pack would have attacked us like so many tigers.”

“At the very last,” Bluff went on, “I knew we ought to be doing something. So I yelled out to Sandy who had the shotgun to pepper that big mastiff before he could jump us, and that I’d take care of the next creature.”

“Well, I tried to do it,” Sandy affirmed, “but my first shot went wild, because Bluff here knocked my elbow just when I pulled the trigger. But I had better luck with the second barrel, for I brought one of the other dogs down flat on his back, kicking his last.”

“I’d shot a second creature meanwhile,” said Bluff; “and then the other two were on us. Whew! but we did have a warm session of it about that time, let me tell you, fellows! It was at close quarters, so I couldn’t use my gun again to shoot; but we swung the weapons around our heads as though they were clubs.”

“I made a lucky crack,” declared Sandy, “and bowled the smaller cur over, but he was up like a flash and at me again, scratching and biting like a mad wolf. I never would have believed family pets could go back to the wild state again like that if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“I suppose the big beast tackled you then, did he, Bluff?” asked Jack.

“You just b-b-bet he did!” exclaimed the other, excitedly. “And s-s-say, I had all I could do to k-k-keep him from knocking me over in a h-h-heap. Lots of t-t-times I cracked him with the b-b-butt of my rifle, and staggered him, but he only c-came at me again full tilt. Oh! but we had a g-g-glorious time of it I tell you!”

“And how did it end?” queried Jud. “Since we find you two here right-side-up-with-care we must believe that in the final wind-up you got the better of your canine enemies.”

“C-c-canine d-d-don’t seem to fit the c-c-crime this time, Jud,” expostulated Bluff. “It sounds so mild. Well, we lathered ’em right and left, and took quite a number of s-s-scratches in return. B-b-both of us were getting pretty well winded, and I was b-b-beginning to be afraid of the outcome, when all at once I remembered that I had other b-b-bullets in my gun.”

“Wise old head, that of yours, Bluff,” commented Jud, with a touch of satire in his voice. “Better late than never I should say. Well, what did you do then?”

“Next chance I got I managed to turn my gun around and grip the stock,” and as he said this Bluff reached over to pick up his repeating rifle to exhibit the dents, as well as the half dried blood spots on the walnut shoulder piece, all of which went to prove the truth of his story as words never could have done.

“That was the end of Mr. Mastiff then, eh?” continued Jud.

“Oh, well! I hated to do it,” Bluff told them, “for he was a beaut of a beast, so strong and handsome; but then those shining teeth looked pretty ugly to me, and he was wild to get them at my throat, so there wasn’t really any choice.”

“I should say not!” declared Phil Towns, shuddering at the picture Bluff was drawing of the spirited encounter.

“So I shot him,” said Bluff, simply. “And at that the remaining beast lit out as fast as he could, because with the fall of the leader of the pack he lost his grit. Course after that Sandy’n I couldn’t think of hunting any longer. We figured that we ought to get back home and have our cuts looked after. And Paul, Phil has done a dandy job with that potash stuff.”

“Glad to hear it,” said the scout-master, quickly, “though I’ll take a look myself to make sure. Scratches from carnivorous animals are very dangerous on account of the poison that may cling to their claws. It’s always best to be on the safe side, and neutralize the danger.”

“And Paul,” continued Bluff, “will you accept one of these fat birds from us?”

“Not much I will!” declared the other immediately. “Why should I be favored over the rest of the crowd? You and Sandy earned the right to enjoy a feast, and we’ll see to it that you have it to-morrow. Let them hang until then; game is always better for lying a few days before being eaten, you know.”

Of course, those who had remained at home were curious to know whether the rescue expedition had been successful or not.

“We needn’t ask if you found Hank and his crowd,” declared Spider Sexton, wisely, “for as scouts we are educated to observe things, and first of all we notice that none of you has come back with the pack he took away. That tells us the story. But please go on and give the particulars, Paul.”

“We managed to find them just when they had their last stick on the fire,” the scout-master commenced to relate. “We had to dig a way in to them, for there was an enormous drift banked up against their exit that they hadn’t even begun to cut through.”

“How lucky you got there on time!” cried Frank Savage. “Once more scouts have proved themselves masters of circumstances. Bully for Stanhope Troop! I bet you they were glad to see you! Yes, and like as not told you they were sorry for ever having done anything to annoy our crowd.”

“You’ve hit it to a dot, Frank,” admitted Jud. “Hank shows some signs of meaning to turn over a new leaf, and Paul even believes there’s a hope; but somehow the rest of us reckon its the old story over again. Once they get on their own stamping grounds, by degrees they’ll forget all we’ve done for them, and be back at their old tricks again. What’s bred in the bone can’t easily be beaten out of the flesh, my father says.”

“But it does happen once in a while,” admonished Paul; “so we’ll drop the subject for the present. If Hank starts in to do the right thing, though, remember that it’s our duty as scouts to give him all the help we can. And now let’s settle on the menu for supper, because we’re all of us as hungry as wolves.”

While some of the boys were busying themselves around the fire, Paul took a look at the slight injuries of the two aspiring hunters, and complimented the pleased Philip on the clever way he had attended to their necessities.

CHAPTER XXX
A CHANGE OF PLANS

That night, as the lads sat before the fire, those who had gone on the expedition of succor had to tell further particulars, for the others were curious to know about everything.

When they heard how Bud Phillips had seen the two tramps running away from the vicinity of the fire before hardly any one else was around, of course Bluff and the four other scouts were fully agreed that the mystery of the blaze had been as good as explained.

“All the same,” Jud remarked, “unless we can show some clinching evidence our theory won’t hold water with a lot of people who always have to be given solid proof. That brings up the subject, we talked about on the way home—should we pay a visit to that charcoal burners’ cabin, and try to make prisoners of the yeggs?”

“Great scheme, I’d say!” burst out Frank Savage without any hesitation.

“B-b-bully idea, let me tell you!” added Bluff.

“Whee!” exclaimed Sandy. “Nearly takes my breath away just to hear you mention such a bold thing; but I’m game to try it if the rest are.”

Paul smiled. Truth to tell he had discounted all this, knowing what an impetuous lot his followers were, and how prone to push aside all thought of personal danger when tempted to perform some act that might redound to their credit.

“Plenty of time yet to talk that over,” he told them. “We needn’t decide too hastily, and will let the subject rest for the present, though I don’t mind saying that the chances are we’ll conclude to do something along those lines when on our way home.”

“Is the charcoal burners’ shack far away from the creek, Tolly Tip?” questioned Bobolink, anxiously.

“By the same token I do belave it lies not more’n a quarrter av a mile off from the strame. I c’n lade ye to the same with me eyes shut,” announced the woodsman, evidently just as eager to take part in the rounding up of the vagrants as any of the enthusiastic scouts; for his eye was still a little discolored from the blow he had received in the fight with the desperate tramps.

As their time was limited, Paul knew that they should plan carefully if they were to accomplish all the things they were most desirous of carrying through. On that account he had each one make up his mind just what was dearest to him, and set about accomplishing that one thing without any unnecessary delay.

As for Paul himself, he most of all regretted the fact that on account of the deep snowdrifts and the bitter cold he would probably be unable to get any more flashlight pictures.

“You see,” he explained to some of the others when they were asking why he felt so disappointed, “most of the smaller animals are buried out of sight by the snow. Like the squirrels, they take time by the forelock, and have laid in a supply of food, enough to last over this severe spell, so none of them will be anxious to show up in a hurry.”

“But I heard Tolly Tip giving you a real tip about the sly mink along the bank of the creek. How about it, Paul?” asked Jud.

“Well, that’s really my only chance,” admitted the scout-master. “It seems that minks have a perfect scorn for wintry weather around here, Tolly says, and are on the job right along, no matter how it storms. He knows of one big chap who has a regular route over which he travels nearly every night, going in and out of holes in the banks as if going visiting.”

“I don’t believe you’ve ever had a good snapshot of a live mink, have you, Paul?” inquired Bluff, showing more or less interest, though still somewhat stiff with the painful scratches he had received on the previous day.

“I’ve always wanted to get such a flashlight,” admitted Paul, “because the mink is said to be one of the shyest of all small, fur-bearing animals, even more so than Br’er Fox, and considerably more timid than Br’er ’Coon.”

“You’ll have to set the trap to-night then, won’t you?” asked Tom Betts.

“We’ve made all arrangements looking to such a thing,” Tom was assured. “I’m glad that it still stays clear and cold. We may only have a couple more nights in Camp Garrity.”

“But it’s getting a little milder, don’t you think?” inquired Bobolink.

“It’s a big improvement on yesterday, and I imagine to-morrow will see a further change,” the scout-master remarked.

“Then if those fellows in the cave mean to strike out for home they’ll like as not find their chance by to-morrow,” observed Jud. “Course they’ve got enough grub to keep them for a week. But it isn’t much fun staying cooped up in a cave, and I reckon they’ve had enough of it. Sim and Jud acted that way, not to mention Bud Phillips.”

“Before we make our start I’d like to take a last turn over that way,” Paul observed, as though he had been thinking the matter over. “I’d just like to see if they did strike out across the timber. Their trail would tell the story, and we’d know what to expect.”

“I speak to go with you then,” flashed back Jud, even as Bluff opened his mouth to give utterance to the same desire.

“T-t-that’s what a fellow gets for being a stutterer,” grumbled Bluff. “I meant to say just those words, but Jud—hang the l-l-luck—was too speedy for me. Huh!”

“Oh! as for that,” laughed Paul, “both of you can go along if you care to.”

As the day dragged along the scouts busied themselves in a dozen different ways according to their liking. Some preferred to swing the axe and chop wood, though doubtless if they had been compelled to do this at home, loud and bitter would have been their lamentations.

During the afternoon several went out for a walk, carrying guns along so as to be prepared for either game, or another pack of hungry wild dogs, though Tolly Tip assured them that, so far as he knew, there had existed only the one pack, with that enormous mastiff as leader.

“If ye follow the directions I’ve been after givin’ yees, it may be ye’ll come on a bevy av pa’tridges,” the woodsman told them as they were setting out. “For by the same token whin we’ve had a heavy snowfall I’ve always been able to knock down a lot av the birrds among the berry bushes. ’Tis there they must go to git food or be starved entirely. Good luck to ye, boys, an’ kape yer weather eye open so ye won’t git lost!”

“Remember,” added Paul, “if you do lose your bearings stop right still and fire three shots in rapid succession. Later on try it again, and we’ll come to you. But with such clever woodsmen along as Jack and Bobolink we don’t expect anything of that kind to happen, of course.”

Paul himself went with the keeper of the woods lodge to follow the frozen creek up to a certain place where there were numerous holes in the bank. Here Tolly Tip pointed out little footprints made he said by the minks on the preceding night.

“Av course,” the woodsman went on to say, “ye do be knowin’ a hape better nor me jist where the best place to set the trap might be. All I c’n do is to show ye the p’int where the minks is most like to travel to-night.”

“That is just what I want you to do!” exclaimed Paul. “But you can help me out in fixing things, so when the mink takes the bait and pulls the string he’ll be sure to crouch directly in front of my camera trap.”

Between them they eventually arranged matters, and then the trapper removed all traces of their presence possible, after which they returned to the cabin.

“If the trap isn’t sprung to-night I’ll have another try-out,” Paul affirmed, “for it may be a long while before I’ll get another such chance to snap off Mr. Sly Mink in his own preserves.”

“Oh! make your mind aisy on that score,” said Tolly Tip, reassuringly. “I do be knowing the ways av the crature so well I c’n promise ye there’ll be no hitch. That bait I set is sure to fetch him ivery time. I’ve sildom known it to fail.”

The afternoon came to an end, and the glow of sunset filled the heavens over in the west. The hunters came trooping in, much to the satisfaction of some of the stay-at-homes, who were beginning to fear something might have happened to them.

“We heard a whole lot of shots away off somewhere,” asserted Phil Towns, “so show us what you’ve got in the game pockets of your hunting coats to make them bulge out that way.”

“I’ve got three fat partridges,” said Jack.

“Two for me—one in each pocket!” laughed Bobolink.

Then Jack and Bobolink looked expectantly toward Jud as though expecting him to make a still better showing.

At that Jud began to unload, and before he stopped he had laid six birds on the rough deal table. At that there was much rejoicing.

“Just enough to go around!” exclaimed Sandy Griggs. “I was beginning to be sorry Bluff and I had gone and cooked our birds, but now it’s all right. Here’s for a bully mess to-morrow.”

“We’ve certainly made a big hole in your partridge supply since coming up here, Tolly Tip,” announced Bobolink, proudly. “And there’s one deer less, too.”

“Only one,” said Jud, regretfully; and Paul knew he must be thinking of the stag responsible for the tracks seen on that day when they were on duty bent, and could not turn aside to do any hunting.

“Well, to-morrow may be our last day here,” remarked the scout-master, “so every one of you had better wind up your affairs, to be ready to start home.”