The Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill Part 5

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You almost could have heard our hearts beat for a minute, not knowing what would happen. Then the men sat down again and went on talking.

We waited five minutes to give Hank a chance to get away, and crawled back the way we had come. When we reached the road we heard a crow cawing in the woods and knew that he was safe.

"You answer, Benny," said Skinny. "You do it best."

He gave three caws so real that I almost thought it was a sure enough crow. Hank joined us and we hurried down the road toward home, hoping that the dinner would not be all eaten up.

"Did you get the picture?" I asked.

He nodded. "I think so, but I can't be sure until it has been developed.

I had a splendid chance. They stood just right and there was a fine opening through the bushes."

"It took you a long time," grumbled Bill. "I could have hit them with a rock easy."

"I was trying to hear what they were saying. I couldn't hear very well, but I think they are robbers or something."

"You bet they are robbers," said Skinny. "Didn't they steal my fried chicken?"

We didn't think much more about the men because we had important work on hand. The first thing we had to do was to eat dinner. That is always important, especially when your mother knows how to cook beefsteak that makes you crazy just to smell. After that came a ball game. Our nine, the "Invincibles," played a picked nine from Summer Street. We beat, 25 to 19.

I didn't see any of the boys again until in church, Sunday morning. When I went in Bill Wilson was there, looking so dressed up that I hardly knew him.

He saw me and motioned for me to come into his pew, but Ma wouldn't let me do it. Bill had something on his mind. It was easy to tell that. He looked excited, and every time I turned around he went through with all sorts of motions with his mouth, trying to make me understand what he wanted to say.

It bothered me. Every time the minister twisted up his face, trying to make us understand how important it was what he was saying, I'd think of Bill's mouth going back of me. I couldn't help it.

When at last we went into Sunday school he told me.

"Great snakes, Pedro!" said he, grabbing me by one arm. "Haven't you heard about it?"

"How can I tell whether I have or not, when I don't know what it is?" I told him.

"They robbed Green's store last night; stole him blind."

"Who did?"

"The guys that we saw yesterday. Our robbers."

When Bill told me that you could have knocked me down with a feather. It made me almost as excited as he was. He didn't have time to say any more because teacher made him sit at the end of the line away from me so that he wouldn't whisper so much.

But after Sunday school was over he told me all about it. Burglars had broken into Green's store during the night. They blew open the safe and took all the money, nearly one hundred dollars, and they carried off a lot of knives and revolvers. There is an alley back of the store. They broke into the bas.e.m.e.nt from there and then made their way upstairs.

"How do you know that it was our robbers who did it?" I asked.

Bill drew himself up and swelled out his chest, just like Skinny does sometimes.

"I'm a Boy Scout, ain't I?" he said. "A corporal, too."

"You are only a Tenderfoot," I told him.

That was true. You have to be a Tenderfoot before you can get to be a real Scout.

"It's the same thing," he said, winking one eye. "One of the robbers has a tender foot, anyhow."

"Look here, Bill," I told him. "You are getting to be worse than Skinny.

What are you talking about?"

"Pedro," he said, "you'll never make a Scout. You're a good bandit and a good secretary, but this Scout business is too much for you. I saw their tracks; that's what."

"In the alley?"

He nodded. "Come on and I'll show you."

We hurried down to Center Street and turned into the alley back of the stores. The ground in the alley was hard and didn't show any tracks except wagon ruts.

Bill looked up and down the alley to make sure that n.o.body was watching; then tiptoed over to one side, and lifted up a big piece of wrapping paper, which lay there as if it had been blown out of the store. Under the paper there was the same kind of footprint which we had followed from Plunkett's woods the day before.

There was no doubt about it. The man with a bandaged foot must have been in the alley back of the store which had been robbed.

Bill was the proudest fellow you ever saw over that footprint. When I had finished looking at it he put the paper back again and we went out into the street.

"What do you think of that?" said he. "I guess Skinny ain't the whole thing--on Sundays."

"Does the marshal know?"

"I haven't told a soul except you, Pedro. I am saving it for the Band--I mean the patrol. This is our chance. What's the good of bein' a Scout if you don't do any scoutin'?"

"Anyhow, I think we ought to tell the marshal about this," I said.

"Those robbers are not going to wait for the Scouts to get busy. They probably jumped a freight last night and are in New York by this time.

But maybe the marshal could do something."

Bill was bound to tell the other Scouts about it first. So after dinner we got the boys together and all went over and took a look at the footprint.

Skinny was even more excited than Bill was.

"We are hot on the trail, fellers," said he. "The thing to do is to surround them. We ought to have captured them yesterday. Bet your life we'll take a rope next time."

But when Pa found us talking it over on our woodpile, and we told him about it, he said for us to go to the marshal's at once, and if we didn't he would.

It being Sunday, we went to the marshal's house and found him sitting on the front porch dressed in his best clothes. He was some surprised when he saw the eight of us walk into his yard. It made us wish that we had uniforms on.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" said he. "Is this a committee of distinguished citizens to ask me to run for mayor or something?"

Bill was bursting with the news, but Skinny was the first to speak.

"We want you to run for those burglars," he said, "and we can tell you who they are."

When he heard that the marshal began to get interested.

The Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill Part 5

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