Tom Slade on the River Part 29

"No," said Tom, "unless the other fellow went out there and tried to find out, maybe, how the dead fellow had happened to fall. Maybe a tree that he had hold of broke-or something."

"Then there ought to be footprints back," said Roy.

"Sure-there were."

"I didn't see any."

"That isn't saying they weren't there," said Tom.

"Toma.s.so, you're a wonder."

"Only how did they ever get an automobile, or a motor baby carriage or whatever you call it, up to that place?"

"That's what's got me," said Roy.

They found their companions still searching, but almost discouraged, and Mr. Ellsworth listened with keen interest to Roy's report.

"Hmmm," said he, soberly; "you say you saw wheel imprints? Were there no wheel tracks?"

"No," said Tom, "but the land was gra.s.sy in places and it was pretty hard."

"Hmmm?" was all that Mr. Ellsworth could say. "I think the most likely view is that the body is at the bottom of that bottomless pool," he added. "I don't see that we can do anything else, boys. It goes against me to go on without finding the poor fellow's body, but-"

Scouts do not give up easily and they did not leave the spot until it was too dark to see. Then they went back to the boats, a muddy, dishevelled, scratched and discouraged band. They did not take kindly to defeat.

"The nearest town," said Mr. Ellsworth, looking at their map, "is Boquet.

Farther up, on the Vermont side, is Burlington. I suggest that we stop at both those places and notify the scouts and the authorities. With a grappling iron they could probably get the body."

Tom listened with stolid indifference to this apparent repudiation of his own theory. Probably he did not think the matter worth discussing for in either case the freckled scout was dead.

There was no music on the cabin roof of the _Good Turn_ that night and the Silver Foxes and Ravens who lolled about on the _Honor Scout_ did not call for it, as they usually did. Mr. Ellsworth stood quietly at the wheel; the others sat or lay about, sober and silent.

"Why so quiet, Roy?" Garry asked.

"I don't know," said Roy, who squatted in his characteristic position. "I can't seem to get that fellow out of my head-and-and the way he saluted us back there in Albany. Gee, I can almost hear him laughing now."

"Guess that's Burlington where the lights are," said Mr. Ellsworth.

"Throttle her down to half, Roy, and throw your lead to see how much water we've got."

CHAPTER XIX "SO LONG-SEE YOU LATER!"

It was the afternoon of the following day when the little flotilla, running past the island of Valcour, sighted a promontory straight ahead and a little later discovered it to be the embracing arm which forms the outer boundary of c.u.mberland Bay.

As they sailed into this s.p.a.cious haven they could see, a little to the northwest, a large field dotted with innumerable tents, which on closer view they saw to be arranged with the utmost squareness and precision, in avenues.[3] Their first sight of the famous training camp made Temple Camp seem very insignificant indeed. Out in the lake was a bobbing buoy with a bulls-eye target upon it, and a group of khaki-clad rookies were pelting this with rifle shot. In an open part of the field several companies were drilling and the crisp orders of their officer could be plainly heard across the water.

"Hurrah for Preparedness!" shouted Roy, throwing his hat in the air.

They had been a rather sober party of voyagers during this last part of their trip and Roy's accustomed spirit seemed to have gone from him, but it came back now with a rush and as usual it had a contagious effect on the others.

"Hurrah for Uncle Sam!" shouted Pee-wee, grabbing the naval flag from the stern and waving it frantically.

"They look like scouts, don't they?" said Mr. Ellsworth.

"Oh, cracky," enthused Pee-wee. "I'm glad we came!"

"Altogether!" called Mr. Ellsworth, looking over to the smaller boat.

"Hoop it up, Tom! Hurrah for Preparedness!"

"We thought of it first," called Connie. "Uncle Sam swiped it from us.

Come on, let's give 'em our own call!"

"_Be prepared! Be prepared! Be prepared!_"

And so, shouting l.u.s.tily the motto of the scouts the boats came alongside the landing and were met by several smiling rookies, off duty.

"Are we pinched?" asked Mr. Ellsworth, laughing as he stepped ash.o.r.e.

"No, indeed; you're welcome," said a bronzed rookie.

Pee-wee was not to be repressed by any formal greeting, however hospitable. He stood upon the _Honor Scout's_ cabin, waving the naval flag in one hand and his scout hat in the other, like some frantic, idiotic form of semaphoring.

"Hurrah for Uncle Sam!" he shrieked, hilariously. "Hurrah for Preparedness! Hurrah for Platts--"

He stopped short, gaping like an idiot. The flag fell from his hand unheeded.

"_Look-look!_," he gasped.

"What is it, the Germans?" asked a rookie, looking around.

"_Look-look!_" he gasped.

They looked, and there, sitting astride a piece of artillery not far from sh.o.r.e, his legs dangling and a merry smile upon his face, was the freckled scout!

No sign of scratch or bruise was there about him, and if he had been shot out of the mouth of the cannon he was straddling he could hardly have caused greater consternation. Plattsburg, preparedness, Uncle Sam, must be content with back seats, as this freckled youngster descended nimbly from the cannon and came smiling toward his brother scouts.

"_Aren't-you-dead?_" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Pee-wee.

"Not so you'd notice it," said the freckled boy with a surprised laugh.

"You don't find many dead ones among the scouts, I guess," said an officer, who had come down to confirm the rookies' welcome.

"You said something," said Roy.