The Boy Scouts of the Geological Survey Part 7

Oakvale was scarcely more than a large village, but it boasted many shops, two drugstores, a public school, a post office, and four saloons. As Tom pa.s.sed one of these haunts he saw a group of men standing on the corner. They were gathered around a rough-looking specimen of humanity who stood with one leg thrown across the top of a low hydrant haranguing his boon companions.

"An' Perkins says ter me, 'Now, jist yeou hold yer hosses an' keep yer s.h.i.+rt on, Bill,' says he. 'We don't want no foolin' with thet kid.' Waal, I didn't like ther way he spoke, and so I got kind-er huffy, and he says, 'Here! take yer pay, and git aout! Beat it!'

And here I am!"

"Fired again, eh, Bill?" said one of the loungers.

There was a loud guffaw, and another man dealt Bill a resounding slap on the back. Whereupon the sidewalk meeting adjourned. As they pa.s.sed between the swinging doors of the saloon, Tom touched the last man on the arm.

"Can you tell me where the constable's office is, sir?" he inquired politely.

"I'm Constable Thompson," replied the man, displaying his badge, for he realized that a Boy Scout would require some proof of the statement. "What d'you want, sonny?"

Very briefly and to the point, Tom stated his case against the unknown thief who had broken into Ralph's farmhouse during the previous night. Then he showed Thompson the clews. The constable examined them carefully, and seemed to recognize them. While he was doing so, the man called Bill appeared in the doorway and beckoned for him to come inside.

"Ain't you off'n the water wagon, Thomp?" he asked, with a repulsive chortle. "Come on! What's the mat------?" He broke off abruptly as his eyes fell upon the torn remnants in the constable's hands.

"What---what you got there?" he mumbled, turning pale. "Got a bargain in-----?"

"No," replied Thompson curtly. "Straight goods, Bill Terrill. And it won't be a bargain for---a burglar, unless I'm mistaken. So long!

I've got to hustle or I may miss my guess and my man."

So saying, he nodded to Tom to follow him and strode away, leaving Bill Terrill on the threshold of discovery.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SURVEYING SQUAD

Terrill's words about "no foolin' with that kid," coupled with his startled look when he beheld the fragments of clothing, had started a train of reasoning in the constable's mind. All he said to Tom, however, was: "Come with me, boy. I'm not hankering for Bill's company just now, though I may be keen to see him later. Come along."

Turning another corner, he led Tom across a vacant lot to a small, unkempt, dingy old house at the end of the path. In the yard of this dwelling a woman was hanging clothes on a line and a number of mongrel hens were taking dust baths under some lilac bushes.

The breeze wafted the fragrance of these blossoms to Tom's nostrils as he and Thompson approached them.

"h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Terrill!" said Thompson. "Busy day for you, eh? Why don't you make Bill help you with the wash?"

"Bill's got enough to do was.h.i.+n' his innerds---with liquor!" gruffly retorted the woman, who seemed to be greatly vexed, even angry, at the mention of her husband's name. "And just as if I haven't put up with him time and time again about it! I won't do it no more!

And him daring to complain about my cookin' and my not mendin' his clothes! Why, this mornin' he come home late, with his coat all torn and his-----"

"What?" almost shouted Thompson. "What did you say, there m'am?"

---"I said his coat was all torn," repeated Mrs. Terrill, pleased to find a listener who appeared to be sympathetic. "You know how 'ternal careless he is, Mr. Thompson, and how much trouble he gives me."

"I do, I do indeed." The constable slowly drew out of his pocket the clews Tom had given him. "Could this be a piece out o' Bill's coat?" he asked in an offhand manner calculated to avert suspicion.

"That's it!" exclaimed Bill's long-suffering wife. "What of it?"

she added quickly. "Anything wrong? I guess he must've got into a fight, his face was so battered, but I hope-----"

"Hold on, Mrs. Terrill! Enough said!" interposed the constable, who felt sorry for the way he had led her into a trap. "I made a bet about these rags, and now I'm going to put it up to Bill.

Do you know where I can find him?"

"No, I don't, but I guess _you_ know," the woman replied sharply.

"What's your bet?"

"I'll tell you bye and bye, if I win," said Thompson, with a forced laugh, as he and Tom walked away. "Now, boy, you heard what she said," he continued, when they were out of earshot. "You witnessed when she identified these rags. I reckon Bill Terrill's our man."

As quickly as possible they returned to the corner, where Thompson dived into the saloon, only to reappear after a few minutes---alone.

"Friend William has skipped out," he declared grimly. "His pals are in there, but our naughty little bird has flown! Never mind; I'll get him. He's either skulking around town somewhere or he's made tracks to the station, hoping to get the 2.10 to New York.

You said you were on your way to the station, didn't you? I'll go there first with you."

Sure enough, when the train pulled in at the station, there was Bill Terrill waiting to board it! He had not counted on such quick work on the constable's part, and was not aware of the a.s.sistance his own wife had unwittingly rendered, so he had merely tried to get away before he was "spotted" among the crowd of idle men and boys gathered on the station platform. When he felt Thompson's heavy hand on his shoulder, he started, tried to dodge him and escape, and, failing to do that, broke into a torrent of vile oaths and half-drunken protests as he was escorted away to the village jail.

Meanwhile, having told Thompson where he and Ralph and Art could be found if wanted later, Tom saw the Scout Master and four boys making their way over to the side of the platform, where a bus was waiting to take them to the hotel. He was just in time to join them, and soon he was telling his story to Denmead.

"That's a good idea of yours, Tom," said the Chief, when Tom had finished. "I'll find out how many of the boys know anything about surveying, and then I'll go and see Mr. Brett, one of the railroad officials, and learn what can be done. I'd like to help your friend Ralph Kenyon. I was sorry to hear that he met with an accident lately. It's a shame he killed those splendid eagles!

Professor Whalen showed them to me. Why, I'd have been only too glad to pay the lad well for the privilege of studying the birds in their wild state. He ought to have protected them, as a Scout would do, not killed them! But Dr. Kane told me it was his suggestion to Ralph."

"Yes, sir; so I understand," Tom answered. "Ralph isn't a scout, you know, sir; and he needed the reward the professor offered---needed it in a hurry---so he earned it honestly, even though he'd have chosen not to shoot the birds. He said he was mighty sorry afterward."

"I'm glad to know that. I thought he'd regret it. Well, we won't cry over spilled blood now; it's much too late. By the way, how's he getting along?"

"Great, sir; he was able to walk around a little, without his cane, when Arthur and I left him this morning."

"Are you going back to the farmhouse until we start for camp?"

inquired Denmead.

"If you've no objections, sir."

"None at all, my boy, as long as you can help your friend. You must ask him to visit us in camp when he has time."

"I will, I will!" exclaimed Tom. "I know he'd enjoy it."

"And if this surveying scheme of yours---or was it Ralph's?"

"Both, sir. At least, we talked it over together."

"If it can be carried out, and if the railroad will buy part of Ralph's farm, he will be able to go to the School of Mines?"

"Yes, sir, that's what he wants to do. You don't think, then, that there's any chance of finding iron ore on the property?"

"How should I know? Stranger things than that have happened, Tom."

Talking thus, they reached the hotel. Denmead was immediately surrounded by his troop of scouts, to whom he introduced the new recruits, and presently they all fell to discussing plans for the summer.

As the afternoon waned, Tom made ready to drive back to the farmhouse, declaring that he knew the way perfectly, and even if he didn't, old Keno wouldn't make any mistakes. Arthur decided to stay with the others at the hotel, but Tom did not mind this at all, being quite willing to return alone. The Scout Master promised to send word just as soon as he had interviewed Mr. Brett, or his secretary.

"If, for any reason, we should decide to go direct from here to Pioneer Camp, and should not go up around Silver Lake and thence to Ralph's farm, to call for you, Tom," he added, "I will send Joe to the farm, and he will guide you to camp through the backwoods north of Pioneer Lake. That will be an interesting experience for you, and Joe is good company. Take good care of yourself, my boy, until we all meet again at camp."