Camp Fires of the Wolf Patrol Part 16

The two men were allowed to eat breakfast, one at a time, and Mr.

Garrabrant and Ginger stood over them while the operation of feeding was in progress. Much as both of the desperadoes might have liked to attempt flight, they lacked the nerve to start trouble when those two stalwart men were within reach. And so, although they scowled and muttered, they made no resistance when they were tied up again.

Mr. Garrabrant had found quite a nice little a.s.sortment of deadly weapons upon the pair, which he had confiscated. These he meant to take along with him, not feeling safe in leaving such things in camp, where several of the boys were quite unaccustomed to handling firearms, and some accident might ensue, for which he would be responsible.

Although no one suspected it until they heard the click of his shutter, Mark had managed to snap off the entire outfit as they stood there, a.s.sisting Mr. Garrabrant load his prisoners into the boat.

And it might be taken for granted that the official photographer of the camp had seized upon an opportunity when the two prisoners' faces were in full view, so that no one could afterwards reasonably doubt their claim to having captured the desperate men so long wanted by the Rockaway authorities.

Of course the camp was left in full charge of the a.s.sistant scout master, Elmer Chenowith, with a parting injunction from Mr. Garrabrant that the boys were to render his representative just as much respect as though it were himself.

There could be no doubt about that being done, since Elmer was a universal favorite among his fellows, and had hardly an enemy in all Hickory Ridge.

"I reckon, suh, we can manage to get along all right while you are away," Chatz Maxfield had called out rea.s.suringly, after the boat had left the landing, with Ginger working industriously at the oars, the two prisoners huddled amids.h.i.+ps, and the scout master seated astern, where he could keep his eye pretty much all the time on the slippery customers.

"If I wasn't positive about that, Charles, I'd never be leaving you,"

was what Mr. Garrabrant replied, as he waved his hand to them.

Presently the fast-moving boat swept around a bend, and was lost to view. Several of the boys sighed a little, and looked a bit downcast.

Despite their a.s.sumption of freedom from homesickness they could not help feeling that their leader would perhaps be in "dear old Hickory Ridge" that afternoon, and might even pa.s.s by their beloved homes, which it seemed they had not seen for an age.

Of course Elmer, who had roved more or less, was not in this cla.s.s. He knew better than to make fun of them, however. Between himself and Mark they had many a quiet laugh over the way the fellows made out to be so free from care.

"I bet you it seems like a c.o.o.n's age to some of them since they said good-by to mother and father," Mark managed to remark, as they stood there watching the rest gaze down river after the vanished link that was to bind them with civilization.

"Sure it does," Elmer had agreed. "Do you know that little story about the kid who ran away from home, and what an eternity it seemed to him?"

"I don't seem to remember," replied the other. "What happened, Elmer?"

"Why, he spent the day of his life, you know. He had made up his mind in the beginning that he would never come back. Then at noon he determined that a whole month would give his folks a good scare. The afternoon hung on terribly. Minutes seemed hours, and at last he just couldn't stand it any longer. He had spent his last penny, but it was getting night, and he had never been without a home in the dark before."

"Yes, I can understand that, because once I did it too," laughed Mark; "but don't mind me, Elmer, go right along with the story. What happened to him?"

"Nothing. That's where the fun came in," replied the other. "You see his folks understood that kid, and they just made up their minds to punish him by not paying the slightest attention to him. So he came sneaking into the sitting room where dad was reading the paper, and mom was knitting. Neither of them even looked at him. He thought that mighty queer, when he had expected to be hugged and kissed and cried over like one who had been lost a year.

"After a long time, when he had coughed, and moved about without either of them paying the slightest attention to him, the boy was struck with an idea. He would say something that _must_ make them realize the near calamity that had happened. So he bent down to stroke the back of the old tabby that was purring by the fire, and he says, says he:

"'Oh! I see you still have the same old cat you used to have when I was home!'"

Mark burst into a hearty laugh.

"I get the point, Elmer, all right, and I guess it applies to a few of our fellows, but on the whole they've acted just fine. A better bunch of good-hearted boys it would be hard to find anywhere. And I tell you this outing's going to do every mother's son of them a heap of good. What they learn in this camp will pay a dozen times over for the trouble it's taken. I hope Mr. Garrabrant gets safely down to Rockaway with his boatload of human freight. Perhaps there won't be a sensation in Hickory Ridge when the news gets out that the Boy Scouts captured those bad men, and sent them to the police of Rockaway with their compliments. I guess that's going some for a new organization of tenderfeet scouts, eh?"

"I should say yes," replied the young scout leader, emphatically. "And after all, we've only got one more mystery to solve to have the slate clear."

"You mean about that monkey business, I suppose?" suggested Mark.

"Yes; and possibly we may be lucky enough to have that settled before Mr. Garrabrant comes back again," Elmer remarked, confidently.

"You think then we are due for another visit from Diablo, say to-night?"

"It stands to reason," said Elmer, "that he will have eaten up all those crackers long before then, and knowing where we keep our supplies, you can count on him paying another call. So many around the camp in the daytime will keep him shy. You remember there were only Ginger and Red at home all day, when he was here before."

"All right," remarked his chum. "We'll try and have a warm reception ready for our friend Diablo. He's apt to be the most surprised monkey ever, once he hits that trigger; what with the loop s.n.a.t.c.hing him up in the air, the flashlight going off with a great dazzling glow, and the yells of the boys as they get on to the racket. I just hope it turns out a good picture. It'll sure be the star of the whole collection. What?"

Elmer took charge, and proceeded to start the ball rolling. They were not intending to have any strenuous work while the scout master was away, but some of them coaxed Elmer to give a few exhibitions of throwing a rope, and doing some other little tricks that he had learned while up on that Canada cattle farm.

He also went deeper into the track business, and the boys were so anxious to learn all they could about this fascinating study, that they all spent hours trying to find new footprints so that they could drag Elmer thither, and get him to tell the sort of little animal that had made them, what his habits were, and all about him.

Then after lunch some words brought up the subject of picture writing.

Elmer had more or less to say about that, for he had been among the Indians, and copied any amount of their queer methods of communicating.

"It's just as simple as falling off a log, fellows," he said. "If a little kid were trying to make you understand that three men had gone down river in a boat, if he had any sense at all he'd draw a canoe with three figures in it holding paddles. A rock sticking up would have something that looked like foam on one side. That would tell you the water was running so, and that the canoe was going _down_ the river. If they were being pursued, in the boat behind a figure would be firing a gun. Then they escape, for they go ash.o.r.e and make a fire. All got away, for there are still three of them. And that's the easy way it goes. It just can't be too simple. A child might read it. And that's Indian picture writing. Now, suppose some of you try it. If anybody can read it right off the reel, then you've made a success of the job. But remember, this isn't any rebus or puzzle."

So for some time the boys employed themselves in practicing this simple art, under the directions of the young scout master. They found it lots of fun, and of course there was more or less shouting over some of the wonderful pictures drawn, which the artists themselves could hardly designate, after their work became cold.

Dr. Ted and Mark had gone off with some more food, to find out how Abe and his family were, after the exciting experience of the preceding day, and to tell them that their unwelcome visitors were by that time safely locked up in the Rockaway strong box.

Mark wished to get a few pictures of the two "kids" in their native woods. They would not look the same after they reached civilization, where kindly women would only too willingly take them in hand, and fit them out with new clothes.

Toby fairly haunted the spot where the balloon lay in a heap, just as they had piled it up. Doubtless the boy was indulging himself with castles in the air connected with the time to come, in the dim future, when he too might have a chance to fly through the clouds in one of these big gas bags, or with a modern aeroplane, which would of course be much better.

And so the day wore on.

As evening approached some of the boys mentally pictured Mr. Garrabrant talking with the good people of Hickory Ridge, and in each case it was a father or mother who so proudly heard what wonderful progress the boy was making in learning to take care of himself when left to his own resources.

Things went on as usual. They had plenty of trout for supper, of which dainty the scouts seemed never to tire. Then a huge mess of rice had been boiled, which, served with sugar and condensed milk, proved a good dessert. But before that was reached they had a stew made of tinned beef, Boston baked beans and some corn, while Ty Collins showed his skill as a flapjack maker by turning out several heaps of pretty fair pancakes.

Perhaps some of the scouts ate more heavily of these last than they should, for it was noted that at various times during the night a boy here or there would get to talking in his sleep, and show signs of restlessness that could only come from indigestion. Nevertheless, when the time came for retiring, Elmer gave the signal for taps to be sounded on the bugle, as Lil Artha declared, "everything was lovely, and the goose hung high!"

CHAPTER XV.

HOW THE TRAP WORKED.

BEFORE they turned in after the rest, Elmer and his closest chum, Mark, spent a little time doing something mysterious over in the vicinity of the tent in which the extra stores were kept.

The boys understood that it had more or less connection with the expected visit of the liberty-loving monkey, Diablo, but like good scouts they minded their own business.

Everyone had been warned to keep away from that same tent under penalty of being given the surprise of their lives, and of a most unpleasant nature at that. Of course, no one knew exactly what the scout leader had arranged; but all the same they felt positive it would meet the peculiar emergency. And each boy made up his mind that during his term as sentry nothing could induce him to saunter near that marked territory.

A tall and vigorous young hickory sapling had by accident started on its way toward some day becoming the king of the woods right there in front of the tent opening. And Elmer, quick to grasp the opportunities which fortune threw at his feet, had made use of this same healthy and sound young tree. From time of old he knew the value of hickory when one wanted a particularly springy bow.

He and Mark were panting a little when they finished a certain little job which doubtless had a bearing on the game. And strange to say, the upright hickory sapling no longer pointed toward the beckoning sky; but stood there with bowed head in meek subjection to the will of man.

"Think the trigger will run smooth enough?" queried Mark, as they stood back to gaze at the evidence of their handiwork.