The Boy Scouts in the Blue Ridge Part 6

The two boys made a move as if to carry out this project, only the scoutmaster put a stop to it.

"Don't think of doing that, fellows," Thad said, quickly. "These mountaineers are a thin-skinned lot as far as I've been able to learn; and they won't stand for any poking of your nose into their business.

Besides, if it was a man, the chances are he would be armed, and you might bring a hornet's nest down about our ears."

"Oh! he did have a gun, all right," remarked b.u.mpus, carelessly.

"You didn't mention that before," broke in Step Hen, with an intaking of breath that betrayed excitement.

"'Cause n.o.body asked me; and every one wanted to have something to say,"

retorted the other. "It was a gun, and an _awful_ wicked looking one too, about as long as my staff, seemed to me."

"Could it have been Old Phin?" suggested Allan.

"How about that, b.u.mpus; was he an old man with a gray beard?" asked Thad.

"Nixey; that is I don't know how old he might a been; but I'm dead sure he didn't have any beard at all, just a smooth face. But he was a regular mountaineer, all right, Thad, with the dingy old faded brown homespun clothes, the slouch hat, and the ragged pants that never came near his brogans. He saw me lookin' at him, for he put on a little spurt, and dodged behind that pile of rocks, where like as not he's squattin' right now, waitin' to see what we're agoin' to do about it, and ready to speak to us with that trusty weapon if we try to rush his fort."

"Well, we're going to do nothing of the kind, just remember that," said Thad, resolutely. "It's only natural that the men of these mountains should feel a whole lot of curiosity about us. I suppose now they never heard of the Boy Scouts; and these uniforms make them think we're connected with the army. Now, we don't want to stir them up any more than we can help. They're an ugly lot, Bob here says, if you rub the fur the wrong way. We didn't come down here to bother these moons.h.i.+ners one whit; and if they'll only let us alone, we want to keep our hands off their affairs. Let the fellow dodge after us if he wants to; he'll find that we're only a bunch of happy-go-lucky boys, off for a holiday."

"Pity we can't meet up with that same old Phin, and tell him as much,"

Smithy went on to say.

"Perhaps it might be managed easy enough," Allan observed, and all of them immediately turned toward him, feeling that he had some scheme to communicate.

"Open up, and tell us what it is, Allan," urged the impatient b.u.mpus.

"Yes, don't keep us guessing any more than you can help," added Step Hen. "We've sure got enough to worry us, what with the troubles of Giraffe getting stuck in that quicksand; and Davy here, falling over every old precipice he can find, without you making us puzzle out a problem. How could it be done, Allan?"

"Why, we'll send Old Phin a letter," replied the other, calmly.

"Show me your messenger, then!" demanded b.u.mpus.

Allan picked up a stick, and deliberately split one end so that he could open it up. This he thrust into a crevice in the rocks close to the wretched road, and in such a position that it was certain to meet the eye of the tracker when he again started to follow them.

"Now, I'll write a few lines, and leave it here, addressed to Phin Dady," he went on. "I'll print the words in capitals, in the hopes that the old mountaineer may be able to read as much as that. If he can't, then some other of the clan may; and if all else fails, they'll have some boy or girl make it out. How's that, Thad?"

"Splendid, I should say," replied the scoutmaster, smiling. "Here, b.u.mpus, turn around, and bend over."

"What you goin' to do to me?" demanded the short scout, suspiciously, as he hesitated before complying.

"Is that the way you obey orders?" scoffed Giraffe. "A true scout should never ask questions. S'pose them dragoons at the battle of the Six Hundred had begun to want to know the whys and wherefores of everything, d'ye think we'd ever had any chance to declaim that stirring poem?

Shame on you, b.u.mpus, take a brace, and obey blindly."

"Oh! I only want the use of your broad and steady back for a writing desk, so Allan can get his message written," Thad at this interesting juncture remarked, easing the strain, and dissipating all the fat boy's suspicions.

When Allan had made out to complete his "message" he read it aloud, and also let them all have a look at it. Just as he had said he would do, he had written it in the most primitive way possible, by making capitals of each letter. This was what he had done:

"Phin Dady--We are a patrol of Boy Scouts, come down from the North to see the Carolina mountains. We do not mean you, or any one, harm; but want to be friends. We carry no arms but a single shotgun."

"That ought to answer the purpose," remarked Thad, approvingly.

"I didn't want to say too much, you see," observed the author of the message, as he fastened it in the crotch of the riven stick, where it must attract the attention of any one pa.s.sing. "First, I had a notion to mention Bob's name, as a former resident; and then I remembered that he said he didn't want it known he'd come back. So I left that out."

"And I'm glad you did," said the one in question, hastily; "it would have done no good, suh, believe me; and might have brought us into much trouble."

Again Thad saw him send that expressive glance his way; and his suspicions concerning Bob having another secret which he had not as yet told, received further confirmation.

"This, you know, fellows," remarked Allan, "is the way the Indians communicated in the old days; only instead of writing it out as we do, they used to make signs that stood for men, camp-fires, rivers, woods, animals, trails and such things. You remember, Thad here gave us some talk about that awhile back. Now, are we going on again, since we've left our wonderful message for Old Phin?"

"Yes, and perhaps we'd better keep somewhat closer together than we've been doing up to now," the scoutmaster suggested.

"How'd it do for Giraffe here to stay behind, and watch to see if that feller back of the rock pile gets the letter?" b.u.mpus proposed. "After we turned that bend ahead he could drop down, and creep back. Then, after he'd seen all he wanted, why it wouldn't be any great shake for such a long-legged feller to overtake the rest of the bunch."

But Giraffe evidently did not like the idea of being left all by himself after that fas.h.i.+on. He looked worried as he waited to see what Thad would say; and was considerably relieved when the other shook his head, remarking:

"No need of that, Number Three. It wasn't such a bad idea though, come to think of it, and does you credit. I'm glad to see that you're waking up, and beginning to work your brain more. But that message will get into the hands of Old Phin, all right, there's no doubt of that."

"D'ye reckon he'll take our word for it; or believe it's only one more clever dodge of the revenue men to get him when he's napping?" asked Davy Jones.

The scoutmaster turned to Bob White.

"How about that, Bob?" he asked.

"Old Phin is narrow minded, as you can easily understand," the Southern boy replied. "Besides, he's had so many smart dodges played on him, that he'll never believe anybody's word. Now, he may make up his mind that because we're only boys he needn't be afraid we expect to capture him; but all the same, we might poke around here, meaning to destroy his Still, suh. You can depend upon it that Old Phin'll never make friends with any one that wears a uniform. That stands for an enemy in his eyes.

But I'm hopin' suh, that he'll just conclude to let us alone, and go to one of his mountain hide-outs, to stay till we leave the neighborhood."

They were by now tramping along again. Trying to forget the ugly part of the affair, Thad was picturing in his mind what the home of Reuben Sparks might be like. He was a rich man, Bob had said, and in close touch with the moons.h.i.+ners; though the Government had never been able to connect him with any of the illicit Stills that had been raided from time to time during the last dozen years. And so it was only natural to believe that he must have surrounded himself with some of the comforts of civilization, while remaining in this wild region. Words let fall by Bob had given Thad this impression; as though they were going to be surprised when the home of little Cousin Bertha was come upon.

"I'd like to have a little talk with you, Thad!"

The scoutmaster was not very much surprised when he heard these words, and realized that Bob White had caught up with him as he strode along at the head of the little squad of boys in khaki.

"He just couldn't hold in any longer," was what Thad whispered to himself; "and now he's bound to let down the bars all the way, so somebody will share his secret with him."

Turning upon the other, he said, pleasantly:

"Why, as many as you like, Bob; what's bothering you now; for I've seen you looking my way quite some time, as though you wanted to speak. I guess you'll feel better when you've had it out."

"Perhaps I may, suh, though I'm ashamed to have kept it from you so long," answered the Southern boy, shame-facedly. "Fact is, I tried to deceive myself into thinking that it couldn't interest or concern any of my chums. But now, since I've been thinking it all over, and we've run across Old Phin, it looks different to me, and I'm of the opinion I had ought to have mentioned this before I took the lot of you down into these danger mountains!"

Thad knew then that it could be no trifling thing that would agitate the other as this seemed to do, and he steadied himself to meet the disclosure.

CHAPTER VIII.

BOB CONFIDES IN THE PATROL LEADER.