The Banner Boy Scouts Afloat Part 15

"I guess that's about right," admitted Tom.

"It's certainly quiet enough to suit anybody; and chances are they wouldn't be disturbed in a c.o.o.n's age," declared Jack. "Our coming here was a freak. It mightn't happen again in many years."

"And this old island's already got a bad name; hasn't it?"

Bobolink went on.

"That would help keep people away," admitted Paul. "I've heard of men coming up in this region winters, trapping the muskrats that swarm in the marshes; but up to cranberry picking time it's almost deserted."

"Jack, you must have had an idea, too?" remarked Bobolink.

"Well, I did; but perhaps the rest of you'll only give me the laugh if I mention it," replied Jack.

"All the same, it isn't fair to keep anything back," Tom declared. "My guess didn't pan out much, and you couldn't have worse luck than that.

So tell us."

"Yes, go on, Jack, and give us the benefit of your think-box. I've known you to get away up head more'n a few times, when it came to a live race.

And mebbe some of the rest of us mightn't think so badly of your idea as you do yourself," and as he said this Bobolink sat down on the sand to listen, all the while eyeing those mysterious tracks as though he half expected them to give tongue, and tell the true story of their origin.

"Oh! well, that seems only fair, so here goes," Jack began. "Somehow I happened to remember that once on a time I read about some counterfeiters who had their nest in an old haunted mill, away up in the country."

"Whee!" Bobolink said, sitting bolt upright.

"None of the country people would ever go near the place, you see; and when a light happened to be seen in it at night time, they talked about the ghost walking, and all that," Jack continued.

"Huh! that must have been when the boss was paying off his hands,"

chuckled Bobolink. "I always heard that was the time the ghost walked."

"In this case the truth was only found out by some accident," Jack went on to say, without paying any heed to the interruption. "I think a hunter was overtaken by darkness, having lost himself in the woods. He was a stranger, and had never heard about the haunted mill. So, seeing a light, he went up to ask his way, or if he could get a chance of a bed that night, I forget which. He saw enough to give him a suspicion; and when he did get back to the tavern he was stopping at, he sent word to the Government authorities. A raid resulted, and they caught four counterfeiters hard at work."

"_Four,_ you said, Jack!" echoed Tom.

"Yes, just the same number there seems to be here; but then that's only a coincidence, because those others are serving ten-year sentences in the penitentiary. Now, you see, I guess the fact of Cedar Island being said to have a real ghost got me into the idea of thinking about that story I read in the paper. Of course it's a silly idea all around."

"Well, I don't know," said Paul, slowly.

"You don't mean to say you think it might happen that way here?" demanded Jack, seeming to be the only one desirous of "shooting holes" in the proposition he had himself advanced, as Bobolink expressed it later on.

"It's possible," Paul said, simply.

"Huh! for my part," spoke up Bobolink, "I think it's more than that, even. If you asked me straight now, I'd be inclined to say it's probable."

"Same here," remarked Tom Betts, eagerly.

Jack laughed as if pleased.

"I declare, I really expected to hear you knock my idea all to flinders,"

he remarked.

"But what under the sun could they be carrying in that big box?" asked Tom Betts.

"Box!" muttered Bobolink, frowning, as though the word recalled to his mind a matter that had been puzzling him greatly of late; but he did not think to say anything further on that subject.

"Well, sometimes machinery comes that way," suggested Paul. "If these strange men did turn out to be what Jack said, they might be getting a press of some kind up here, to do their printing with. I never saw an outfit, but seems to me they must have such a thing, to make the bogus bills."

"That's right," added Tom. "I read all about it not long ago. Wallace Carberry's so interested in everything about books and printing, that he clips all sorts of articles. And this one described a kind of press that had been taken in a raid on some bogus money-makers. Yep, it must have been machinery they were lugging off here. Whew! just to think of us bein' mixed up in such a business. I wonder, now, if the Government ever pays a reward for information about such things."

"Oh! rats! that's the last thing a scout should bother his head about,"

said Bobolink, scornfully. "He ought to see his duty, and do it. Though, of course, if a nice little present happens along afterwards, why, I guess there's no law against a scout acceptin' it; eh, Paul?"

"Certainly not," replied the other, "you've got the idea down pretty fine, Bobolink. But let's see if we can guess anything else. Then we'd better go back to camp, and start the rest of the fellows thinking about it. Perhaps Jud or Andy or Nuthin might dig up something that never occurred to any of us."

But although they talked it over for some little time they did not seem able to conjure up any new idea; everything advanced proved to hinge upon one of the explanations already spoken of. And in the end they were forced to admit that they had apparently exhausted the subject.

"Let's pick up our fish, and stroll back, fellows," proposed Paul, finally.

"Lucky to have any fish, with that hog around," remarked Bobolink.

"Now you're meaning the wild man, I take it?" said Jack.

"No other; the fellow that drops in on you when you ain't expectin'

company, and just swipes your string of fish like he did Jud's. I might 'a thought Jud was giving us a yarn to explain why he didn't have anything to show for his morning's work; but both Little Billie and Gusty saw the same thing. Say, that's another link we got to straighten out.

What's a crazy man doing up here; and is he in the same bunch that made these tracks?"

"That's something we don't know," admitted Paul.

"But we mean to find out," a.s.serted Bobolink, with a determined snapping of his jaws.

"Perhaps so--anyhow, we'll make a brave try for it," Paul declared.

"He wasn't one of these four, that's flat," said Tom Betts. "We all saw what a big foot the wild man had; and besides, he goes without shoes."

"Glad to see you noticed all that," commented Paul, who always felt pleased when any of the troop exhibited powers of observation, since it proved that the lessons he was endeavoring to impress upon their minds had taken root.

They turned their faces toward the camp, and Paul made sure to pick up the fish he and Jack had caught.

"With what we'e already cleaned, they'll make a fine mess for the crowd," he remarked, pointing out an unusually big fellow that had given him all the fun he wanted, before consenting to be dragged ash.o.r.e.

"I notice that you both kill your fish as you get 'em," remarked Tom.

"I wouldn't think of doing anything else," replied Jack. "It only takes a smart rap with a club on the head to end their sufferings. I'd hate to think of even a fish dying by inches, and flapping all over the boat or the ground, as it gasps its life away. That's one of the things scouts are taught--to be humane sportsmen, giving the game a chance, whether fish, flesh or fowl, and not inflicting any unnecessary suffering."

"Wonder if anything's happened in camp since we came away; because Bobolink and I have been gone nearly an hour," remarked Tom Betts, to change the subject; for his conscience reproved him with regard to the matter Jack was speaking about.

"What makes you think that?" asked Paul, suspiciously.

"Oh! nothing; only things seem to be on the jump with us right now; and a fellow can't turn around without b.u.mping into a wild man, or some bogus money-makers, it seems. P'raps the ghost'll show up next. Listen! wasn't that somebody trying to blow your bugle, Bobolink, that you left hung up in the tent?"

"It sure was, for a fact. Let's start on a run, fellows. Mebbe they've gone and grabbed that wild man! P'raps he was bent on carryin' off the whole outfit this time. You never can tell what a crazy man'll do next; that's the hard part of being a keeper in a queer house, where they keep a lot of that kind; anyhow a man told me that once who'd been there. But listen to that scout trying to sound the recall, would you? Whoop her up, boys; there's _something_ happened, as sure as you live!"