The Young Wireless Operator-As a Fire Patrol Part 24

More serious than ever was the ranger's face when Charley showed him the telltale footprint.

"It's bad!" he said. "Altogether bad! He's as cunning as a rat, that Bill Collins. But how he could ever discover a camp so well concealed as this one is, I don't know."

And with that the ranger fell into a brown study. Lew and Charley went on rapidly with their preparations for supper.

"Here," called the ranger, noticing what they were about. "Mr. Marlin sent this to you. I almost forgot about it." He reached into the capacious inner pocket of the hunting-coat he wore and drew forth a bulky package.

"Beefsteak!" cried Charley, opening the package. "Oh boy! And enough for two meals. We're certainly obliged to you and Mr. Marlin both."

Meantime, the pup, neglected, fawned upon them and began to whine, when suddenly the ranger cried out, "I've got it. It was the pup."

"The pup?" echoed Charley. "What about the pup?"

"Why, it was the pup that betrayed the camp. In some way those men got within hearing or smelling distance of this place, and the pup must have barked or whined. You know how a lonely dog will howl and carry on. I'm sorry, but I guess that pup will have to go, Charley."

Charley's face expressed almost as much mental agony as the pup's whine had shown, though he said nothing. The ranger, looking up, caught the expression, however, and understood. He knew how lonely it would be for Charley after Lew returned to Central City. "The harm's already done," he continued, "and I suppose it never does any good to lock the stable after the horse is gone. You may keep your pup, Charley; but I do wish he was a dumb brute in fact as well as in name."

"I can train him to be quiet," said Charley eagerly. "I trained Judge Gordon's dogs to hunt and I can train this little fellow not to make a noise. If I could keep him, sir, I'd be mighty glad. He'll be a lot of company."

"Keep your dog, noise or no noise," said the kindly ranger with determination. "If you can really train him well, he'll do us a thousand times more good than he does harm. Now that I know Bill Collins is in these woods, I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone. You train that dog as fast as you can. Train him to warn you of the approach of strangers, and train him to fight, too--and to fight hard."

Again the ranger lapsed into silence. After a while he said, "What puzzles me now is this: Should we move your camp to another place or leave it where it is? Bill Collins knows there is a camp here. He saw you two boys in the forest and he has probably seen no one else. He will likely infer that it is your camp. But he has no way of knowing that you are connected with the Forest Service, unless, unless--By George! Why didn't I think of that sooner? Ten to one he hid close by and watched for you to come back. If he did, he saw us when we came down from the top of the hill. And if he saw me with you boys, he knows as well as I do why this camp is hidden and what you boys really are doing. I'll bet it made him swear some when he saw me." And the ranger chuckled.

"But maybe he didn't see us," suggested Charley.

"I'd just as soon believe that the sun didn't set. That fellow's a fox for cleverness and a bulldog for persistence. Yet I don't see that we need feel bad, even if he does know where your camp is. We've learned more than he has. We know he's back in these parts and that he is making a secret visit to this timber; for you may be very sure he intended it to be a secret visit."

"But he can't be certain we know who he is," argued Charley. "He is as much a stranger to Lew and me as we are to him."

"True enough, Charley, true enough. It was really a great piece of luck that you boys happened to b.u.mp into him. It would have been better, of course, if you could have seen him without being noticed yourself, but in that case we should never have guessed who he was. No; it's a game of checkers between us now, and we've each lost a man to the other. But in my opinion we got a king in exchange for an ordinary checker. What I'd like to know is, who the man is that's with him."

"Supper is ready," announced Lew.

The three entered the tent, where Lew had hung the lighted candle lantern, and in the growing darkness ate their meal.

"It seems to me," suggested Lew, "that it would be best to leave the camp right where it is. If we move it, that will indicate that we know its location has been discovered. If we let it remain where it is, these men won't know whether we are aware if their visit here or not."

"You've a good head on you, young man," said the ranger approvingly.

"That's exactly the thing to do. Besides, if we moved it and Bill Collins wanted to find it, he'd stick right to the job until he succeeded. But I don't believe he has any interest in watching this camp or in staying in this forest. It isn't a healthful place for him and he knows it. You see, Bill and I are old acquaintances. It's my opinion that he came in here for some particular purpose and that he'll get right out the instant that purpose is accomplished. Those men didn't have any packs, did they?"

"Not a sign of a pack," replied Charley. "Their coat pockets bulged out as though they had sandwiches or something in them, but they hadn't a thing in their hands or on their backs except fis.h.i.+ng-rods and creels."

"That settles it," said the ranger. "They can't stay here more than forty-eight hours at the most. And there's no danger of their telling anybody else about your camp because they won't want anybody to know they were here. We'll just consider the camp situation settled."

They finished their supper and had begun clear up the dishes when suddenly Charley thought of the fire-clay. "Oh! I have something to show you," he cried, and went to the corner of the tent to get the clay ball. It was just where Charley had left it, but the instant he picked it up he was somehow conscious that it was different. He held the ball up and looked at it critically. Then he hefted it in his hand.

"Lew," he exclaimed, "how big was that ball of clay we took for a sample?"

"Four or five inches in diameter," rejoined Lew. "Why?"

"Look at that. It isn't a bit more than three inches thick. I was sure we had more clay than that. I meant to make a little pot of it."

"We did have more. I'm sure of it. You don't suppose those men could have taken any of it, do you?"

"Let me see," said the ranger.

He took the ball and examined it critically. "That looks like fire-clay.

If it is, and the deposit is of any size, you have found something of value. You know the state sells things like that on a royalty basis. We might be able to develop a good clay business. We like to work up all the business we can, because the revenues go toward the purchase of the equipment we need. You know the legislature won't give us all we need to buy implements for fighting fires, and for fire-towers, and other equipment."

"If we could make a fire," said Charley, "you could soon tell whether it is good fire-clay or not."

"Make a fire," said the ranger. "Collins already knows where our camp is and n.o.body else will be prowling around here at this hour."

In a minute the boys had a fire going. When they had a deep bed of coals, they dropped the ball of clay in it and made more fire on top of the bed.

While they were waiting for the clay to bake, Charley sat down at his wireless key. As it was still early in the evening he did not feel certain that any of the Camp Brady boys would be listening in. He called several times with no response, so he threw over his switch and resumed his conversation with his fellows. When he flashed out his signals a quarter of an hour later, however, he got a prompt reply.

"I've got 'em," said Charley quietly to his comrades. "And it's Henry talking." He was silent a while, listening to Henry's message. Then he said, "Henry wants to know when Lew is coming home. Vacation is about ended."

"Tell him that I think I'll go back with the ranger to-morrow. I've stayed as long as I possibly can."

Again there was a pause. "Henry wants to know what we are doing and whether or not we've had any adventures. I wish I could tell him the real situation. But that would never do."

Charley turned to his key and began to tick off a message: "Everything as quiet as--" He stopped abruptly. A cry that fairly made him s.h.i.+ver sounded in the forest. He turned to the ranger. "What in the world was that?"

"A wildcat," replied the ranger. "He smells the meat you hung up. You'll just have to be a bit watchful. He may hang around here for days, and sometimes those fellows get nasty."

Another piercing cry startled the night. Again Charley s.h.i.+vered. Lew got up and by putting more wood on the fire lighted up the interior of the thicket brightly.

Charley turned to his wireless key and sent a call signal flas.h.i.+ng.

"What's the matter?" came back Henry's reply. "Why did you cut off?"

"Wildcat," flashed back Charley. "Just outside our camp. Smells our meat.

Scares a fellow half to death when he cries out. Ranger says it may hang around for days. Wish you would send us some traps."

"You'll bring them out on your next visit, won't you?" said Charley, turning to Mr. Morton.

"Bring what out?" demanded the perplexed ranger.

"Why, traps. I forgot that you couldn't read the message I was sending.

I'm asking Henry for traps."

"Tell him to send them along. Trapping will be better than shooting under the circ.u.mstances, but don't hesitate to use your gun if you need to."

Charley turned back to his instrument and asked Henry to rush the traps.