Boy Scouts in Northern Wilds Part 5

"Where's that fool boy going now?" asked Tommy as George, in pursuit of the spy, dashed into the thicket.

"What did he see back here that caused him to let out a yell like that?" asked Sandy.

"I don't believe he saw anything!" Will declared. "He just thought he'd give us a good scare by pretending he'd b.u.mped into a band of Indians, or something like that."

The boys looked over the ground in the rear of the tent, and finally Tommy came to the place where the spy had punctured the canvas.

"Who made this hole in the tent?" he asked.

The boys gathered around the opening through which the spy had inspected the interior of the tent, and looked at each other with wonder expressed on their faces. Tommy was first to speak.

"George must have caught a man here looking in," he said.

"That's why he disappeared so suddenly," Will argued.

"Yes, he was chasing the Peeping Tom," Sandy agreed.

"I wish we knew the direction they took," Will mused. "The boy may get into serious trouble, chasing off into the forest along in the night. He should have told us of his discovery so one of us could have gone with him! We may be able to find him yet."

"Aw, he'll come back before long!" Tommy argued. "He can't make any headway out there in the underbrush, and the fellow who was here will probably run away from him before he gets three rods from the tent."

"I hope so!" answered Will.

"But what was that gink prowling around the tent for?" asked Sandy.

"That must have been the same fellow we heard using the paddle a short time ago. If it is, he's mighty liberal with his bullets!"

"I'm anxious about that boy," Will broke in. "I wish he'd come back!"

"Yes, this isn't a very desirable country to be lost in in the night!" Tommy admitted. "He ought not to have gone away."

"What do you make of this gink prowling around our tent?" asked Sandy. "Do you think he's doing it out of curiosity, or because he has an inkling of what we're up here after?"

"Huh! How would any one away off up here know anything about the Little Bra.s.s G.o.d?" demanded Tommy.

"Look here," Will argued. "The Little Bra.s.s G.o.d is stolen from this house on Drexel Boulevard. Enclosed in a cavity in the toy is a will disposing of several million dollars worth of property. The Little Bra.s.s G.o.d is finally sold to a p.a.w.n-broker, who in turn disposes of it to a trapper known to belong in the Hudson Bay district."

"That's a fair statement," answered Tommy.

"Now, Mr. Horton, attorney for the man who is in quest of the lost will, and Sigsbee, the man interested in probating the previous will, both know of the final disposition of the Little Bra.s.s G.o.d.

At least, Frederick Tupper knows that it was taken from the p.a.w.n shop by a Hudson Bay trapper, and it is believed that Sigsbee possesses the same information."

"Of course, they both know about it," agreed Sandy.

"Now, why shouldn't they both send people up here in quest of the Little Bra.s.s G.o.d?" Will continued.

"But suppose this man Sigsbee doesn't know anything about the will being in the belly of the Little Bra.s.s G.o.d?" suggested Tommy.

"We believe he does know all about it!" said Will.

"And do you believe, too, that he hired a burglar to go and steal the Little Bra.s.s G.o.d?" asked Sandy.

"As I said before," Will answered, "we don't know anything about that. The Little Bra.s.s G.o.d may have been taken by a burglar who was simply in quest of plunder. The whole thing resolves itself into this: If the really, truly burglar stole the toy and sold it to the p.a.w.n-broker, the will is in the ugly little chap's belly.

If Sigsbee hired the burglar he took the will out before the trinket was sold at the p.a.w.n-shop. In that case, he would be the last one to send an expedition up here to retrieve the toy. And so you see," Will continued, "that we don't know anything about it."

"Well it's funny that gink should come prowling around our tents on the first night of our arrival!" Tommy exclaimed. "According to all accounts, he should have come sneaking into camp looking for a drink of brandy. The fact that he ran away when discovered shows that he wasn't here for any honest purpose."

"Well, what are we going to do?" demanded Sandy. "Let's give the Little Bra.s.s G.o.d a rest long enough to make up our minds about George."

"We can't do anything until morning," Will interposed.

"How do you know we can't?" demanded Tommy.

"Because it's dark, and because we know nothing about the country,"

replied Will.

The boys sat before the fire until midnight listening for the return of their chum. When it began to snow they reluctantly decided that George had crawled into some temporary shelter for the night and would not think of trying to make his way home through the storm.

"You boys go to bed now," Will advised, "and I'll sit up and keep watch. If you hear me firing how and then, don't think the camp's been attacked. George may be lost in the woods, and I'll be doing that to give him the right direction."

"We should have done that before," Tommy suggested.

"Well, get to bed," Will urged, "and I'll run the camp till morning."

Tommy and Sandy crawled into the tent which stood nearest to the great campfire and cuddled up in the warm blankets.

"Do you believe Will will stay in camp until morning?" asked Tommy.

"Of course I don't," was the reply. "He'll wait until we're asleep, and then he'll go prowling around the camp in search of George."

"That's just about what he'll do."

"What's your idea, then?" asked Sandy.

"Well," Tommy whispered, "George may be out in the snow somewhere, and it won't take us very long to circle about the camp just to make sure."

"I got you!" replied Sandy. "We'll get out under the back wall, and take a little trip with our searchlights."

Half an hour later, when Will, heavily wrapped, glanced in at the tent preparatory to going out on his quiet search for the missing chum, ho saw that the blankets were empty.

"The little scamps?" he chuckled. "They've beaten me to it!"

In the meantime, Tommy and Sandy were making their way through the wilderness traveling in the narrow light provided by the electrics.

By this time the snow was quite deep, and the wind appeared to be rising every minute.

"We never can get home in this storm if we once lose sight of the campfire," Tommy said as the two huddled together in the lee of a big tree.

"That's a fact!" Sandy admitted. "So I guess we'd better be poking along. Which way is the fire?"