The Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour Part 19

The country was getting very wild now. Occasionally they began to have glimpses of the upper Bushkill, when the forest opened more or less.

Later on the road was likely to skirt the river, they understood, when conditions would be prime for possibly a swim, or some fis.h.i.+ng, which latter, they imagined must be good so far away from town.

They were still taking it easy after eating a lunch that possibly cleaned up every sc.r.a.p of the goodies prepared by fond mothers and sisters; when Paul, who was sitting talking to Jack, noticed a vehicle coming swiftly along the road.

Whoever occupied the rig seemed to be in somewhat of a hurry, for he was every now and then whipping the horse, which showed signs of fatigue, as though it had come quite some ways.

As the man drove past he raised his head to look with a frown in the direction of the scout encampment. Paul did not like his appearance at all. Indeed, he was of the opinion that the man might even have stolen the rig somewhere; for he acted as though anxious to get away.

But his bewilderment increased when he saw Joe Clausin suddenly jump to his feet and stare after the departing stranger, his face turning very white.

"Oh! it's him, it's him!" Paul plainly heard him exclaim.

CHAPTER XVI

AT THE FOOT OF RATTLESNAKE MOUNTAIN

"Who?" demanded William, as he caught the low-spoken words of Joe Clausin.

"Yes, tell us about him, Joe," went on another of the scouts. "I never saw the man before, and I shouldn't like to meet him on a dark night either. Ugh!"

But Joe turned suddenly red, and shook his head, trying to pa.s.s the thing off with a laugh.

"Thought I knew the duck, fellers, but I reckon I must have been mistaken, 'cause you see, the man I took him for is away off at the other side of the world right now," he said. But Paul's keen eyes saw that Joe did not believe any such thing.

"Say, boys, Joe's taken to seeing double," jeered William; "the coffee must have gone to his head. We'll have to remember next time, and make him a cup of grandmother tea."

Paul had something to think over. In connection with the strange robbery of the feed-man's place, and the queer actions of Mr. Clausin then and since, it was little wonder that the young scout leader connected this new event with the other.

He tried to figure it out, but all seemed a blank. No doubt, if he could at some time coax Joe to confess who it was he believed this stranger to be, who was in the vehicle, and who looked back so often as he whipped his tired horse, the puzzle might not appear quite so dense.

But Joe was apparently in no mood just then for any confession. He seemed to have set his teeth firmly together, as though determined that not one of his comrades must learn the slightest thing about his troubles.

Paul tried to picture the face of the man as he had caught it in that one rapid glimpse. Had he ever known him? There _did_ seem to be some little familiar look about his expression; but try as he would he could not seem to place the other just then.

But Joe knew; Joe was not in a maze of doubt; and the knowledge did not seem to have given the Clausin boy any great pleasure either; which made the enigma all the more like a tangle to Paul.

Again the Banner Boy Scouts set forth. After the rest, and a little attention paid to their aching feet the cripples were able to keep up with the rest for an hour or so. By degrees they would perhaps become hardened to this sort of work. When a boy has never done much steady walking it comes tough for a time. He may be used to playing all day, but that means a change of action. It is the steady grind, hour after hour, that tells on his lower extremities, until they get hardened to the test.

At three they came upon the river, and Paul understood that it would be more or less of a companion to their march from that time on.

Every fellow greeted it with delight. It seemed like an old friend, because they had been accustomed to skating on its frozen surface, and bathing in its pellucid depths, year after year.

"Don't it look good to meet with a familiar friend, though?" cried Bobolink taking off his hat, and making a most respectful bow in the direction of the gurgling water.

"Listen, would you?" scoffed William, always ready to get in a sly dig at his comrade; "to hear him talk you'd think we'd been away from home a solid month; when it was only yesterday we broke the ap.r.o.n strings, and sauntered forth, bent on adventure. What will he do when a whole long week has crawled along. Oh! me, oh! my! I see his finish, poor old Bobolink!"

But despite his words, even William cast many a fond side look at the noisy stream that was foaming among the rocks; for was it not heading toward Stanhope, where the softest of beds lay unused, and all manner of good things to eat were doubtless going to waste during the absence of twenty hungry boys?

Wilder still grew the country. Even Paul had had no idea it could be so rough within twenty miles of home. But as a rule the boys of Stanhope had confined their tramps and wheeling trips to the other three sides of the town; since the roads were much better, and the country level; so that no one knew anything about this region, save through hearsay.

"Oh! look, there it is!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed A. Cypher, who happened to be in the lead just as they came out of a woody tract, and turned a bend in the rough road.

During the last hour Paul had abandoned all idea of holding the scouts in any sort of regular formation, so that it had become, what William called, a "free-for-all," with khaki-clad lads stretched out along fifty yards of s.p.a.ce, usually in small squads, and a rear guard to round up stragglers.

Of course these words from Nuthin caused a great craning of necks. Those who at the time chanced to be in the rear hastened their steps, eager to discover what it was attracted so much attention on the part of their chums.

"Why, it's the mountain!" said Horace Poole, with a trace of wonder in his voice.

"Sure it is, old Rattlesnake, at home," declared William, promptly.

"Wow! don't it look awful big, fellows?" remarked the awed Tom Betts.

"And d-d-dark as a c-c-cellar!" remarked Bluff, solemnly.

Paul looked with considerable interest at the great pile of rock and brush that loomed up so close at hand.

Many a time during the past two years he had planned to make a run up here, with the idea of seeing for himself if all the strange stories he had heard about grim old Rattlesnake Mountain could be true. They had always been broken up, either through his intended companion backing down, or else some family flitting that took one of the boys away from Stanhope during the holidays.

But now the long antic.i.p.ated day had come at last. He was looking up at the big mountain, only a short distance away; and while the scouts could hardly expect to climb its rocky side that day, possibly camp might be made at the base.

Even the cripples seemed to mend under the promise of reaching the foot of the mountain that afternoon. They walked briskly for half an hour at least, and then fell back into the same old limp, though proving game for the finish.

"No signs of wheels around here, are there, Paul?" asked Jack, as he sought the side of his chum at the head of the straggling procession.

"Now that's queer, but d'ye know I was just thinking about that same thing," the scout leader remarked. "To tell you the truth I was examining the ground as I went along. Perhaps you noticed me, and that's why you spoke?"

"Yes, that gave me an idea," admitted Jack, readily enough. "I wondered whether those fellows could have gone past us last night while we were in camp, and are even now perched somewhere on the mountain, watching us crawl along down here."

"Well, that's just what they've done. See here, you can notice the marks of the bicycle tires in the road. Little travel away up here, and along the side where it's smoothest they've gone single file, following the motorcycle of Ward, I guess."

"Why didn't we see that before, then?" demanded Jack, frowning as he eyed the tell-tale marks.

"I have looked a number of times," Paul went on; "but couldn't see anything. So you can understand it gave me something of a shock just now to discover the tracks."

"Have you reasoned it out?" asked his chum; knowing full well that Paul would never allow such a problem to remain unsolved long.

"There's only one explanation Jack, that I can see. Perhaps you remember noticing a little side road that joined with this one about a quarter of a mile back?"

"Of course, I remember it. Then you think----"

"They must have come out of that road ahead of us," Paul went on.

"That's the way they got in their licks. Somebody knew about how it turned around, and joined on to the main stem again. What do you say, Jack?"

"Why, of course. And now I remember hearing Scissors boast that he had the only map ever made of the Rattlesnake Mountain country--a logger charted it one winter, hoping to get his governor interested in some timber cutting scheme he had in mind, which fell through though."