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diff --git a/19815-0.txt b/19815-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c47f61c --- /dev/null +++ b/19815-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5083 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Roy Blakeley, Pathfinder, by Percy Keese +Fitzhugh + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Roy Blakeley, Pathfinder + + +Author: Percy Keese Fitzhugh + + + +Release Date: November 14, 2006 [eBook #19815] +Most recently updated: September 21, 2019 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER*** + + +E-text prepared by James Eager and revised by Roger Frank from page images +generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 19815-h.htm or 19815-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/19815/19815-h/19815-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/19815/19815-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + https://archive.org/details/royblakeleypathf00fitz + + + + + +ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER + + +[Illustration: “I GAVE THEM THE SCOUT SALUTE.”] + + +ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER + +by + +PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH + +Author of +Tom Slade, Boy Scout, Tom Slade +with the Colors, Tom Slade on +the River, etc. + +Illustrated + + +Published with the approval of +THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA + + + + + + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers : : New York + +Made in the United States of America + +Copyright, 1920, by +Grosset & Dunlap + + + + + CONTENTS + + I HELLO, HERE I AM AGAIN + II AN AWFUL WILDERNESS + III UNDAUNTED! + IV GO! + V I GO ON AN ERRAND + VI I DISCOVER SOME TRACKS + VII I MEET THE STRANGER + VIII UP A TREE + IX AWFUL STICKY + X I MAKE A PROMISE + XI SEEING IS BELIEVING + XII MARSHAL FOCH + XIII AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE + XIV BUT I DIDN’T WRITE IT + XV NO! NO! NO! GO ON! GO ON! + XVI THE MYSTERY + XVII APPALLING! WONDERFUL! MAGNIFICENT! + XVIII ON TO GLORY + XIX JIB JAB, IS HE HUMAN? + XX THE PARADE + XXI WE VISIT THE SIDE SHOW + XXII BRENT GAYLONG + XXIII BRENT’S STORY + XXIV THE LIGHT IN THE WOODS + XXV IN THE DARK + XXVI DORRY AND I AND THE CRICKET + XXVII WE TAKE HARRY INTO OUR CONFIDENCE + XXVIII IN THE WOODS + XXIX JIB JAB AND HARRY + XXX JIB JAB IS SURPRISED + XXXI JIB JAB’S STORY + XXXII JIB JAB TURNS OUT TO BE HUMAN + XXXIII WE PART COMPANY + XXXIV A GOOD IDEA + XXXV WHAT I HEARD ON THE TELEPHONE + XXXVI UP THE TRAIL + XXXVII A VOICE + XXXVIII WE FIGHT AND RUN AWAY + XXXIX WELCOME HOME + XL MMM-MM-M-M! + + + + + ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER + + + + + CHAPTER I + + HELLO, HERE I AM AGAIN + + +This story is all about a hike. It starts on Bridge Street and ends on +Bridge Street. Maybe you’ll think it’s just a street story. But that’s +where you’ll get left. It starts at the soda fountain in Warner’s Drug +Store on Bridge Street in Catskill, New York, and it ends at the soda +fountain in Bennett’s Candy Store on Bridge Street in Bridgeboro, New +Jersey. That’s where I live; not in Bennett’s, but in Bridgeboro. But +I’m in Bennett’s a lot. + +Believe _me_, that hike was over a hundred miles long. If you rolled it +up in a circle it would go around Black Lake twenty times. Black Lake +would be just a spool—_good night!_ In one place it was tied in a +bowline knot, but we didn’t count that. It was a good thing Westy Martin +knew all about bowline knots or we’d have been lost. + +Harry Donnelle said it would be all right for me to say that we hiked +all the way, except in one place where we were carried away by the +scenery. Gee, that fellow had us laughing all the time. I told him that +if the story wasn’t about anything except just a hike, maybe it would be +slow, but he said it couldn’t be slow if we went a hundred miles in one +book. He said more likely the book would be arrested for speeding. I +should worry. “Forty miles are as many as it’s safe to go in one book,” +he said, “and here we are rolling up a hundred. We’ll bunk right into +the back cover of the book, that’s what we’ll do.” Oh boy, you would +laugh if you heard that fellow talk. He’s a big fellow; he’s about +twenty-five years old, I guess. + +“Believe _me_, I hope the book will have a good strong cover,” I told +him. + +Then Will Dawson (he’s the only one of us that has any sense), he said, +“If there are two hundred pages in the book, that means you’ve got to go +two miles on every page.” + +“Suppose a fellow should skip,” I told him. + +“Then that wouldn’t be hiking, would it?” he said. + +I said, “Maybe I’ll write it scout pace.” + +“I often skip when I read a book, but I never go scout pace,” Charlie +Seabury said. + +“Well,” I told him, “this is a different kind of a book.” + +“I often heard about how a story runs,” Harry Donnelle said, “but I +never heard of one going scout pace.” + +“You leave it to me,” I said, “this story is going to have action.” + +Then Will Dawson had to start shouting again. Cracky, that fellow’s a +fiend on arithmetic. He said, “If there are two hundred pages and thirty +lines on a page, that means we’ve got to go more than one-sixteenth of a +mile for every line.” + +“Righto,” I told him, “action in every word. The only place a fellow can +get a chance to rest, is at the illustrations.” + +Dorry Benton said, “I wish you luck.” + +“The pleasure is mine,” I told him. + +“Anyway, who ever told you, you could write a book?” he asked me. + +“Nobody _had_ to tell me; I admit I can,” I said. + +“How about a plot?” he began shouting. + +“There’s going to be a plot forty-eight by a hundred feet,” I came back +at him, “with a twenty foot frontage. I should worry about plots.” + +Harry Donnelle said he guessed maybe it would be better not to have any +plot at all, because a plot would be kind of heavy to carry on a hundred +mile hike. + +“Couldn’t we carry it in a wheelbarrow?” Will wanted to know. + +“We’d look nice,” I told him, “hiking through a book with the plot in a +wheelbarrow.” + +“Yes, and it would get heavier too,” Westy Martin said, “because plots +grow thicker all the time.” + +“Let’s not bother with a plot,” I said; “there’s lots of books without +plots.” + +“Sure, look at the dictionary,” Harry Donnelle said. + +“And the telephone book,” I told him, “It’s popular too; everybody reads +it.” + +“We should worry about a plot,” I said. + + * * * * * + +By now I guess you can see that we’re all crazy in our patrol. Even +Harry Donnelle, he’s crazy, and he isn’t in our patrol at all. I guess +it’s catching, hey? And, oh boy, the worst is yet to come. + +So now I guess I’d better begin and tell you how it all happened. The +story will unfold itself or unwrap itself or untie itself or whatever +you call it. This is going to be the worst story I ever wrote and it’s +going to be the best, too. This chapter isn’t a part of the hike, so +really the story doesn’t begin till you get to Warner’s Drug Store. +You’ll know it by the red sign. This chapter is just about our past +lives. When I say, “go” then you’ll know the story has started. And when +I finish the pineapple soda in Bennett’s, you’ll know that’s the end. So +don’t stop reading till I get to the end of the soda. The story ends way +down in the bottom of the glass. + +Maybe you don’t know who Harry Donnelle is, so I’ll tell you. He was a +lieutenant, but he’s mustered out now. He got a wound on his arm. His +hair is kind of red, too. That’s how he got the wound—having red hair. +The Germans shot at the fellow with red hair, but one good thing, they +didn’t hit him in the head. + +He came up to Temple Camp where our troop was staying and paid us a +visit and if you want to know why he came, it’s in another story. But, +anyway, I’ll tell you this much. Our three patrols went up to camp in +his father’s house-boat. His father told us we could use the house-boat +for the summer. Those patrols are the Ravens and the Elks and the Solid +Silver Foxes. I’m head of the Silver Foxes. + +The reason he came to camp was to get something belonging to him that +was in one of the lockers of the house-boat. I wrote to him and told him +about it being there and so he came up. He liked me and he called me +Skeezeks. Most everybody that’s grown up calls me by a nickname. As long +as he was there he decided to stay a few days, because he was stuck on +Temple Camp. All the fellows were crazy about him. At camp-fire he told +us about his adventures in France. He said you can’t get gum drops in +France. + +Gee, I wouldn’t want to live there. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + AN AWFUL WILDERNESS + + +After he’d been at camp three or four days, Harry Donnelle said to me, +“Skeezeks, are you game for a real hike—you and your patrol?” + +I said, “Real hikes are our specialties—we eat ’em alive.” + +“I don’t mean just a little stroll down to the village or even over as +far as the Hudson,” he said; “but a hike that _is_ a hike. Do you think +you could roll up a hundred miles?” + +“As easy as rolling up my sleeves,” I told him. “We’re so game that a +ball game isn’t anything compared with us. Speak out and tell us the +worst.” + +He said, “Well, I was thinking of a little jaunt back home.” + +“_Good night_,” I told him, “I thought maybe you meant as far as +Kingston or Poughkeepsie, But Bridgeboro! Oh boy!” + +“Of course, we wouldn’t get very far from the Hudson,” he said, “and we +could jump on a West Shore train most anywhere, if you kids got tired.” + +“The only thing we’ll jump on will be _you_—if you talk like that,” I +said; “Silver Foxes don’t jump on trains. But how about the other +fellows—the Elks and the raving Ravens? United we stand, divided we +sprawl.” + +He said, “Let them rave; I’m not going to head a whole kindergarten. +Eight of you are enough. Who do you think I am, General Pershing?” And +then he ruffled up my beautiful curly hair and he gave me a shove—same +way as he always did. “This is not a grand drive,” he said, “it’s a +hike. Just a few shock troops will do.” + +“We’ll shock you all right,” I said, “but first you’d better speak to +Mr. Ellsworth (he’s our scoutmaster), and get the first shock out of the +way.” + +“I think I have Mr. Ellsworth eating out of my hand,” he said; “you +leave that to me. I just wanted to sound you and find out if you were +game or whether you’re just tin horn scouts—parlor scouts.” + +“Well, do I sound all right?” I said. “Believe _me_, there are only two +things that keep us from hiking around the world, and those are the +Atlantic Ocean and the Pacific Ocean.” + +“Think you could climb over the Equator?” he said, laughing all the +while. And he gave me another one of those shoves—_you_ know. + +Then he said, “Well then, Skeezeks, I’ll tell you what you do. You call +a meeting of the Foxes and lay this matter on the table——” + +“Why should I lay it on the table?” I said; “you’d think it was a plate +of soup. _I’ll stand_ on the table and address them, that’s what I’ll +do.” + +He said, “All right, you just picture the hardships to them. Tell them +that for whole hours at a time, we may have to go without ice cream +sodas. Tell them that we’ll have to penetrate a wilderness where there +is no peanut brittle. Tell them that we’ll have to enter a jungle where +gum drops are unknown. Tell them that we may have to live on +grasshoppers. Tell them about the vast morass near Kingston, where you +can’t even get a piece of chocolate cake; miles and miles of barren +waste where the foot of white man has never trod upon a marshmallow——” + +“Sure you can find marshmallows in the marshes,” I said. “We should +worry.” + +“You ask Willie and Tommy and Dorrie and the others if they are prepared +to make the sacrifice—and I’ll do the rest. I’ll speak to Mr. +Ellsworth. But remember about the heartless desert with its burning +sands just above Newburgh. Now go chase yourself and round them up. I +guess you know how to do it.” + +So I got all the Silver Foxes into our patrol cabin and gave them a +spooch. I guess I might as well tell you who they all are. First there’s +me—I mean _I_. Correct, be seated. You learn that in the primary grade. +I’m patrol leader and it’s _some_ job. Then comes Westy Martin; he’s my +special chum. My sister says he has dandy hair. Then comes Dorry +Benton—he’s got a wart on his wrist. Then comes Huntley +Manners—Badleigh, that’s his middle name. Sometimes we call him Bad +Manners. Then comes Charlie Seabury and then comes Will Dawson and then +come Tom Warner and Ralph Warner—they’re twins. They’re both better +looking than each other—that’s what Pee-wee Harris said. He’s a +scream—he’s in the raving Raven patrol. Thank goodness he isn’t in this +story—not much anyway. Ralph says Tom is crazy and Tom says Ralph is +crazy and Will Dawson says they’re both right. I guess we’re all crazy. +Anyway, Ralph and Tom came from Maine, so they’re both maniacs, hey? + +This is the speech I spooched: + + Fellow Foxes: + + Shut up and give me a chance to talk. Sit down, Bad Manners. + I’ve got something to tell you and don’t all shout at once—— + +_Good night!_ They all began shouting separately. Then I said: + + Harry Donnelle says he’s going to hike it all the way home to + Bridgeboro. He says we can go with him if we want to. Our time + is up Saturday, but we’ll have to start three or four days + sooner. + + He said for me to sound you fellows, but believe me, there’s so + much sound that I can’t. I suppose the other patrols will go + back down the Hudson in the house-boat. Every fellow that’s in + favor of hiking it home with Mr. Harry Donnelle, will say + _aye_—but don’t say it yet. He said to tell you that we take + our lives in our hands—— + +“Why can’t we put them in our duffel bags?” Westy shouted. + +“Did you think we’d take them in our feet?” Dorry yelled. + +Then they all began shouting, “_Aye, aye, aye!_” even before I told them +about the forests and morasses and jungles and deserts and things. +Honest, you can’t do anything with that bunch. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + UNDAUNTED! (THAT’S PEE-WEE’S HEADING) + + +One thing about Harry Donnelle, he was a dandy fixer. When he fixed the +camouflage for us so we could watch a chipmunk, I knew he was a good +fixer. He said he learned how in France. He fixed the chimney on the +cooking shack, too. That fellow could fix anything. + +But a scoutmaster isn’t so easy to fix. Lots of times I tried to fix it +with Mr. Ellsworth and I just couldn’t. He’d make me think that I wanted +to do his way. He’s awful funny, he can just make you think that there’s +more fun doing things his way. And I was trembling in my shoes—I mean I +was trembling in my bare feet—for fear Harry Donnelle wouldn’t be able +to fix it with him. But that fellow could fix it with the sun to +shine—that’s what Mr. Burroughs said. + +Pretty soon he came strolling down to the spring-board where a lot of us +were having a dip in the lake. + +“All right,” he said, “how about you?” + +“Did you fix it?” I asked him. + +“All cut and dried,” he said; “are you ready for the big adventure?” + + * * * * * + +That afternoon we had a special troop meeting, to find out how the +fellows felt about splitting the troop for the journey home. Because you +see our three patrols always hung together. Mr. Ellsworth made a speech +and said how Harry Donnelle had offered to lead the fierce and fiery +Silver Foxes through the perilous wilds of New York State. He said that +the journey would be filled with interest and data of scientific value +(that’s just the way he talked) and how we hoped to cross the Ashokan +Reservoir and visit other wild places. He said that we planned to enter +the heart of the Artists Colony at Woodstock and see the artists in +their native state and stalk some authors and poets, maybe, and study +their habits. + +Oh boy, you ought to have seen Harry Donnelle. He just sat there on the +edge of Council Rock (that’s where we have important meetings at Temple +Camp) and laughed and laughed and laughed. + +Mr. Ellsworth said, “It is hoped that these brave scouts may succeed in +capturing a poet and bringing him home as a specimen, and that they may +find other fossils of interest. Meanwhile, the Ravens and the Elks and +myself will drift down in our house-boat and endeavor to find someone to +tow us from Poughkeepsie to New York and up our own dear river to +Bridgeboro. The Ravens and the Elks wish me to offer the brave explorer, +Mr. Harry Donnelle, a vote of thinks for taking the Silver Foxes away. +They appreciate that he does this for the sake, not of the Silver Foxes, +but as a good turn to the Ravens and the Elks. The Ravens and the Elks +hope to have a little peace meanwhile. They thank him. In the familiar +words of one of our famous patrol leaders, ‘_we should worry._’ And we +wish you all good luck in your daring enterprise.” + +I could see that he winked at Harry Donnelle and Harry Donnelle was +laughing so hard that he couldn’t make a speech. So I climbed up on +Council Rock and shouted, “Hear, hear!” Then I made a speech and this is +it, because afterwards I wrote it out in our troop book. + + The Silver Foxes thank the Ravens and the Elks for their kind + wishes. I bequeath all my extra helpings of dessert to Pee-wee + Harris of the Ravens—up to three helpings. After that it + reverts to Vic Norris of the Elks. Reverts means _goes to_. Who + ever reaches Bridgeboro, New Jersey, first will send out a + searching part for the others. The searching party will bring + their own eats. If we’re never heard of again, that’s a sign you + won’t hear from us. If we get to Bridgeboro and don’t find you, + that’ll be a sign that you’re not there. If you are there it + won’t be our fault. We should worry. We go forth for the sake of + prosperity—I mean posterity. So please tell posterity in case + we don’t reach home safely. If our friends and parents are + anxious, tell them to wait at Bennett’s on Bridge Street, + because that’ll be the first place we go to. + +The next day was Wednesday and we started early in the morning. The +others were going to start down in the house-boat on Saturday. I think +the Ravens and the Elks must have sat up all night making crazy signs on +cardboard just so as to guy us. And Mr. Ellsworth helped them, too. They +had the whole camp with them—even Uncle Jeb; he’s manager. He used to +be a trapper. + +When we got out onto the main road, we saw signs tacked up on all the +trees and I guess every scout in camp was there. One of the signs read, +_Olive oil, but not good-bye_. Another one read _Day-day to the brave +explorers_. Another one read, _Don’t forget to wear rubbers going +through the Newburgh morass_. Another one read, _Beware of the +treacherous Ashokan Reservoir_. A lot we cared. Didn’t people even make +fun of Christopher Columbus? + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + GO! + + +But remember, I told you that the hike didn’t really begin till we got +to Catskill. The reason I don’t count the hike from Temple Camp to +Catskill is because we were all the time hiking down there. It wasn’t a +hike, it was a habit. I wouldn’t be particular about three or four +miles. Besides, I wouldn’t ask you to take them, because they’ve been +used before. I wouldn’t give you any second hand miles. + +When we got to Catskill we bought some egg powder and bacon (gee, I love +bacon) and coffee and sugar and camera films and mosquito dope and beans +and flour and chocolate. You can make a dandy sandwich putting a slice +of bacon between two slabs of chocolate. Mm-um! We had a pretty good +bivouac outfit, because the Warner twins have a balloon silk shelter +that rolls up so small you can almost put it in a fountain pen—that’s +what Harry Donnelle said. Dorry Benton had his aluminum cooking set +along, saucepans, cups, dishes, coffee pot—everything fits inside of +everything else. One thing, we wouldn’t starve, that was sure, because +we had enough stuff to make coffee and flapjacks for more than a week, +counting six flapjacks to every fellow and fourteen to Hunt Manners; oh +boy, but that fellow has some appetite! We had plenty of beans, too. +Don’t you worry about our having plenty to eat. + +When we got through shopping, we went to Warner’s Drug Store for sodas. +Harry Donnelle said he’d treat us all, because maybe, those would be the +last sodas that we’d ever have. As we came along we saw Mr. Warner +standing in the doorway and he was smiling with a regular scout smile. + +“There’s something wrong,” I said; “there’s some reason for him smiling +like that.” + +“Have a smile for everyone you meet,” Will Dawson began singing. + +But, believe me, I know all the different kinds of smiles and there was +something funny about Mr. Warner’s smile. When we got inside we saw a +big sign hanging on the soda fountain. It read: + + A LAST FAREWELL + TO THE SILVER PLATED FOXES + BEFORE THEY ENTER THE JUNGLE + +By that I knew that some of the fellows up at camp had been down to +Warner’s the night before and put it there, because they knew that would +be the last store we’d go to. + +Harry Donnelle said, “All right, line up.” So we all sat in a row and +some summer people who were in there began to laugh. What did we care? +One girl said she wished she was a boy; girls are always saying that. So +that proves we have plenty of fun. I could see Harry Donnelle wink at +Mr. Warner while the latter (that means Mr. Warner) was getting the +sodas ready. Then all of a sudden Harry said: + +“_Attention! Present spoons. Go!_” + +So then we all started at once and that was the beginning of the big +hike. Just as I told you, it started at the top of the glasses in +Warner’s and ended in the bottom of the glasses at Bennett’s. When you +hear me say _M-mm-that’s good_ in Bennett’s, you’ll know the hike is +over. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + I GO ON AN ERRAND + + +“Now to skirt the lonesome Catskills,” Harry said. + +“Now to what them?” Dorry Benton asked him. + +“Skirt them,” he said, “that’s Latin for hiking around the edge of them. +We don’t want to be all the time stumbling over mountains.” + +“Believe _me_, if I see one in the road, I’ll tell you,” I said. + +“And we don’t want to get mixed up with panthers and wild cats either,” +Harry said. And he gave me a wink. + +“There aren’t any wild animals in the Catskills,” Charlie Seabury said. + +“There are wild flowers,” I said, “but they won’t hurt anybody.” + +“How about poison ivy?” Westy Martin said. + +All the while as we hiked along the road toward Saugerties, we kept +joking about the wild animals in the Catskills. Harry Donnelle said +there used to be lots of wild cats and foxes, but not any more. He said +there were some foxes, though. + +Westy said, “I bet there are some bears; once Uncle Jeb saw a bear; he +said there weren’t any foxes any more.” + +“I guess there are some grey ones and maybe a few silver,” Harry +Donnelle said. + +“Silver?” I shouted. “Oh boy!” Then I asked him what they fed on mostly. + +“Mostly on ice cream sodas,” he said; “they’re very dangerous after a +half dozen raspberry sodas.” + +We didn’t go near Saugerties, because we wanted to keep in the country, +so we hit down southwest along the road that goes to Woodstock. Then we +were going to hike it south past West Hurley so we’d bunk our noses +right into the Ashokan Reservoir. And the next day we were going to +spend trying to keep out of Kingston. + +When it got to be about five o’clock in the afternoon, we hit in from +the road to find a good place to camp. Maybe you think that’s easy, but +you have to find a place where the drainage is good and where there’s +good drinking water. + +Pretty soon we found a dandy place about a quarter of a mile off the +road, and we put up our tent there. + +Harry Donnelle said, “There’s one kind of wild animal that I forgot to +mention and I guess we’ll be hunting them all right; that’s mosquitoes. +I guess one or two of you kids had better hit the trail for the nearest +village and complete our shopping before we get any further. What do you +say? We’re a little short on mosquito dope and we ought to have some +crackers, and let’s see, a little meat would go good. I’m hungry.” + +When we turned into the woods from the road, we knew that we were coming +to a village and I guess that’s what put the idea into Harry’s head to +have somebody go there and get two or three things that we hadn’t been +able to get in Catskill. I told him that I’d go, because the rest would +be busy getting in fire wood and I said it would be good if two or three +of them tried to catch some fish in the brook. + +Oh boy, I had hardly said that, when Ralph Warner shouted that he had a +perch and that the brook was full of them. Harry Donnelle went over and +saw for himself how it was, and then he came back and said to me that as +long as there seemed to be plenty of fish I needn’t bother about meat, +but that I’d better go and see if I could scare up some more mosquito +dope and some sinkers for fishing and a trowel to dig bait with, because +if we liked the place we might stay there till noon the next day. That’s +the best way on a long hike—take it easy. + +“How about Charlie Seabury?” I said; “he doesn’t like fish.” + +“All right, get him a couple of chops, then,” Harry said; “now can you +remember all the things you’re going to get? Mosquito dope, fishing +sinkers, a writing pad and some stamps, and let’s see——” + +“Some crackers,” I said. + +“Righto,” he shouted after me. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + I DISCOVER SOME TRACKS + + +I went back through the woods and when I got to the road I noticed how +it curved, and just then I saw a very narrow path on the opposite side +of the road that led into the woods. I decided it must be a short cut to +the village. So I started along that path. + +Pretty soon the woods grew very thick and it wasn’t so easy to follow +the trail, because it was all overgrown with bushes. But I managed to +keep hold of it all right, and after about fifteen minutes I came to a +little stone house with the windows all boarded up and the door standing +a little open. There was a staple on the door with an old padlock +hanging on it, but I guess the padlock wasn’t any good. One thing sure, +nobody lived there. I went and peeked inside and saw that it wasn’t +meant for people at all, because there wasn’t any floor and it was all +dark and damp and there were lots of spider webs around. Even there was +one across the doorway, so by that I knew that nobody had been there +lately. + +Right in the middle, inside, were a couple of rocks and water was +trickling up from under them. That’s what made me think that the place +was just a spring house. Anyway, I didn’t wait because I was in a hurry. +When I came out I pushed the door open a little and then I closed it all +but about a foot or so. Inside of an hour I was mighty sorry that I +hadn’t left it wide open, and you’ll see why. + +I guess I had gone about a hundred yards further when I noticed +something in the trail that started me guessing. It was the print of an +animal; or anyway, if it wasn’t, I didn’t know what else it was. There +were six prints, something like a cat’s, only the paw that made them had +five toes. The other mark was the paw mark. It was the biggest print +that I ever saw. + +The first animal I thought about was a wild cat. But of course, I knew +there weren’t any wild cats right there. Even if there were any in that +part of the country, they wouldn’t be roaming around near villages. +Anyway, the five toe prints had me guessing, because a wild cat has only +four. I could see that the animal must have been crossing the path, +because the print was sideways and the bushes alongside of the path were +kind of trampled down. + +You can bet I took a good look in those bushes for hairs, but I couldn’t +find any and I kept wondering what kind of an animal had a paw as big as +a man’s hand and five toes. + +After I had gone a little further, I came plunk on a whole line of them +along the path. I wasn’t exactly scared, but anyway, they made me feel +sort of funny, because they were so big and printed so plain. The animal +that made those tracks must have been a pretty big animal, I knew that. + +Then, all of a sudden, I discovered something else. Some of the prints +had five toe marks and some of them only four. Maybe that means the +animal was lame, I said to myself, and doesn’t make a full print with +one of its feet. But in a minute I had sense enough to see that wasn’t +the way it was, because there were always two of one kind pretty close +together and then two of the other kind pretty close together. This is +the way it was; there was a five toe print then another one about a foot +in back of it, then about three or four feet in back of that a couple +more about a foot apart with only four toe marks. + +Good night! I They had me all flabbergasted. + +Pretty soon they left the path altogether and I looked in the bushes for +hairs, but I couldn’t find a single one. + +“Anyway,” I said to myself, “one thing sure, that animal has five toes +on his front feet and only four on his hind feet and I never saw any +tracks like that before or even pictures of them.” + +I wasn’t exactly scared, but just the same I was kind of glad when I got +to the village. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + I MEET THE STRANGER + + +Anyway, that was the smallest village I ever saw to have such big tracks +right near it. All I could see was two houses and the post office, and +the post office was so small that you could almost put your arm down the +chimney and open the front door. But, one thing sure, you could buy +everything you wanted in that post office. You could buy a plough or a +lollypop or anything. It smelled kind of like corn inside. + +I got some lead sinkers and some crackers and a couple of chops for +Charlie Seabury, because it makes him thirsty to eat fish—that’s what +he says. The man didn’t have any mosquito dope, but there were some +boxes of fly paper on the counter and I just happened to think that if +we stayed in our bivouac camp the next morning, it might be good to have +some on account of the flies at dinner time. So I bought a box full. + +Then I said to the man, “I guess there are wild animals around here.” + +He said, “Wall, I reckon thar daon’t be many no more. Yer ain’t +expectin’ ter catch ’em with fly paper, be yer?” + +“Just the same,” I told him, “I saw the tracks of one that must be big +enough to eat this whole village. You’d better put the village in the +safe before you go home. Safety first.” You can bet I know how to jolly +if it comes to jollying. “I want to get some rope, too,” I told him. + +He just leaned back and pushed his great big straw hat to the back of +his head and looked over his spectacles and began to grin. He kept his +spectacles ’way down near the end of his nose. + +“Ye’re one of them scaouts, hey?” he said. “Yer ain’t thinkin’ to lead +any elephants home with that thar rope naow, be yer?” + +I said, “No, I’m going to use the rope to lasso mosquitoes as long as +you haven’t got any mosquito dope.” + +He said, “Wall naow, ye’re quite a comic be’nt yer?” + +I told him I was a little cut up and my mother and father couldn’t do +anything with me. + +“’N what else can I do fer yer?” he said, laughing all the while. “Them +tracks wuz caow tracks, youngster, so daon’t yer be sceered of ’em.” + +I told him I wasn’t scared of any tracks, not even a railroad track and +that I’d buy the village for seventy-five cents, if he’d send it C. O. +D. He just stood there laughing. Anyway, it makes me mad when grown up +people jolly scouts about tracking and signaling and all that, just as +if it was only play. Because what do _they_ know about tracks? Who ever +heard of a cow with feet like a cat? _Good night!_ And, besides, often +it turns out that scouts are right. You wait and see. + + * * * * * + +Now the things I bought I had in a kind of a flat bundle and I hung it +over my back, because I like to have my hands free. What’s the use of +wasting your hands? You’ll never find anything out with your back; all +your back is good for, is bundles. + +I didn’t have any adventures on the way back till I got to that spring +house in the woods. I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even notice the +tracks again. That’s how much I was afraid of them. When I got to the +spring house, I went in for a drink of water, and believe _me_, it was +good. I squeezed in, instead of opening the door wide, because it +scraped so hard on the ground that it was easier to do that than to open +it; and I did the same coming out. + +I was just going to start along the path again, when I got a good idea. +That’s just the way you get them, sudden like. I decided to shinny up a +tree that was there and see if I couldn’t squint our camp over in the +west, because if I could once see it, maybe I’d be able to get to it by +a shorter way than by the path. I did that because it was getting late. + +When I got up to the second branch I looked off to the west, but all I +could see was a little smoke curling up into the sky, and I wasn’t sure +whether it was from our camp or from some house. The sun was going down +over that way and all the clouds were kind of red on the edges and the +sky looked dandy. At Temple Camp they’d be just about washing up for +supper then. I thought I could tell about where the road was, but I +couldn’t decide about the camp and I was just going to shinny down and +hit the trail when I heard a kind of a sound like leaves rustling and +then a funny sort of growl, different from anything I had ever heard +before. I looked around and then I saw, coming through the woods, an +animal with big spots on it and a long tail. I guess it was almost as +big as a tiger; anyway, it was a good deal bigger than a wild cat. It +was making a noise as if it was grumbling to itself, then all of a +sudden, it opened its mouth wide, as if it was going to roar, but it +didn’t. It came almost up to the tree and stood still and its tail hung +on the ground and wriggled like a snake. + +I have to admit that I was good and scared. I just held onto the tree +and didn’t make a move; I guess I hardly breathed. Then, all of a +sudden, the branch I was standing on cracked. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + UP A TREE + + +Good night! + +First I thought I was going to fall, but I reached up and got hold of +the branch above and scrambled up to it. The animal was crouching on the +ground, looking up, and its eyes were just like fire. Its tail was +wriggling just like a snake. _Oh boy_, I was scared. + +But anyway, I wasn’t rattled. There’s a difference between being scared +and rattled. That’s one thing scouts don’t get—rattled. I looked down +and saw him there and I knew I was in a mighty dangerous fix, but that +only made me think harder. It seemed to me that that animal must be a +leopard because he had spots, but of course, I knew there weren’t any +leopards in America. Africa is where _they_ hang out. But you can bet I +didn’t think much about how he happened to be there. He was there, and +that was enough for me. Gee, I like natural history all right, but not +when there’s a wild animal just below me. Nix! He was crouching and he +looked just as if he was going to make a spring for the tree. Mr. +Ellsworth says that most fights are won by quick thinking, so I knew +that if I could only think of something to do quicker than that animal +could spring, I’d be all right. + +First I thought I’d just shinny down and run and maybe he wouldn’t +follow me. That was a punk think. All of a sudden he opened his mouth +wide and kind of hissed at me and came just about two or three inches +closer to the tree. + +Then, all in a jiffy I had a—you know—what do you call those things? +_An inspiration._ I pulled the bundle around from my back and tore it +open and tore open the paper that the two chops were in. Charlie Seabury +says he ought to have the gold cross because he saved my life, but I +don’t see it. Do you? Just because I was bringing the chops to him. He +says he made a sacrifice. I should worry. + +Even the sound of the paper crunching made the animal move a little +nearer and hiss louder and paw the ground with one of its fore feet. I +guess in a couple more seconds he would have had me, but I just threw +one of the chops right at him and he pounced on it. + +[Illustration: THE ANIMAL WAS CROUCHING ON THE GROUND, LOOKING UP.] + +That gave me two or three seconds to think. Because you can see for +yourself that if an animal is ready to eat a boy scout it wouldn’t take +him very long to eat a chop. Maybe you’ll say it wasn’t good to give him +raw meat, but how about me. Wasn’t I raw meat? It was better to give him +the chop and have a few seconds to think than to let him do the thinking +and get me. + +That was the time when I did some thinking in four or five seconds. Gee +whiz, you have to think quick at school exams, but cracky, leopards are +worse than school principals, I should hope. Anyway, they’re just as +bad. + +Now was the time I wished that I had left the door of the spring house +open a little wider, because I had a dandy idea. As long as the animal +knew what it was I was throwing, he’d go after the other chop when I +threw it. Because chops were his favorite food, I could see that. So if +I could only just throw the other chop into the doorway he’d go in there +after it, and while he was eating it I’d shinny down in a hurry and shut +the door and wedge a board against it. I said to myself that I could do +that quicker than he could eat the chop, and one thing sure, he wouldn’t +bother with me while he was doing it. An animal can never think about +two things at once and he thinks about food most of all. Maybe scouts +think about food a lot, too, but anyway, they can think about two things +at once. That’s the difference between scouts and wild animals. + +Oh, if I had only left that door wide open! Then I could have thrown the +other chop right through the opening and ’way into the house. But now I +had to throw it down and almost around a corner, as you might say; and +even if the meat went in at all, it wouldn’t go in far. But if I could +only throw it in far enough so that I could slam the door shut, that +would be enough. + +Anyway, I saw that if I didn’t throw it quick I’d be worse off than +before, because the animal had had a taste of raw meat and he’d be on +the war path. I could see he was looking up at me and his eyes were +blazing and he was making a sound that gave me the shudders. It seemed +as if he was giving me notice that he was going to spring for the tree. +I guess he would have done it that very second, too, only he noticed a +leaf stuck to his paw and I guess it bothered him, because he raised his +paw just as a cat does when she washes her face, and rubbed it off. + +Oh boy, that made me think of something, but you can bet there wasn’t +any time to stop and think then. I guess I felt as nervous as William +Tell when he was going to shoot the apple off his son’s head. Only I had +the chop in my hand instead of a bow and arrow. Oh, didn’t I watch that +open space and take a good aim! My heart was just pounding and my wrist +hurt, because my pulse was going so fast. Because, suppose I should +miss? _I’d_ be the third chop, I knew that. I just couldn’t throw the +chop for fear I’d miss. You can see for yourself that was the only +chance I had. All of a sudden I happened to think about tearing the chop +in half and that would give me two chances. But if one of the pieces +landed inside maybe it wouldn’t be big enough to keep him busy two or +three seconds. So I decided to take a good careful aim and throw the +whole chop. If it went in, all right; maybe I’d have time enough. If it +didn’t—— + +All of a sudden, I heard the animal give a kind of a hissing growl and I +just closed one eye and braced myself against the tree and took a good, +long, careful aim and threw the chop. + +It struck the edge of the door and fell outside the little stone house. +Almost before I saw where it landed, the animal had it. + +I just crouched there in that tree shuddering and waiting for what would +happen next. First I thought I’d take a chance and drop down and run. +Then I decided I wouldn’t. I didn’t exactly _decide_. I stayed where I +was, because I was too scared to move. I didn’t even dare to climb +higher for fear the animal would hear me and give a spring. I could even +feel my teeth chattering. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + AWFUL STICKY + + +Now that it was too late, I could see that if I had only landed that +meat inside the house, it would have been easy to get away. And the +animal would have been a prisoner, too, because he could never have got +out of that house. The windows were boarded on the inside and the door +was good and heavy. But what was the good of thinking about that when it +was too late? + +I have to admit that for about half a minute I wasn’t a good scout. I +was just scared and excited and I didn’t do anything. Then I saw the +animal prowling around the tree and looking up and heard him making that +noise. Oh boy, it was terrible! + +Then, _bang_, just like that, I remembered about him wiping the leaf off +his paw by rubbing it on his face. It was lucky for me he did that, +because it put into my head something I had read, about the way the +natives in India catch tigers. I read it in a natural history book. +There’s a kind of a tree in India named the prauss tree; anyway, it’s +something like that. And it has big flat leaves. So the natives spread +gum on those leaves. They get the gum from the trees, too. Then they put +the leaves in the path and when the tiger comes along he steps on them +and rubs his paws over his face, so as to get the leaves off. But that +only makes it worse for him, because they stick to his face and over his +eyes and everywhere. He gets just plastered up with them. Then he gets +excited—gee whiz, you can’t blame him. And he rolls around on the +ground and can’t see and just rolls and rolls and bangs against trees +and gets all played out and then he lies still just like a horse does +when he falls down. And that’s when the natives come and get him. And +it’s easy, too, because he can’t see and all the fight is knocked out of +him. + +Oh boy, wasn’t I glad I remembered that! I just tore out that box of fly +paper and pulled the sheets apart and dropped them on the ground. Some +of them fell upside down. I should worry. I tried to drop them so they’d +fall around the foot of the tree and a lot of them did. More than half +of them fell right side up. A couple of them stuck to the trunk, but I +didn’t care. Maybe that would be good, I thought. Believe me, in about +ten seconds I had the ground around the tree covered with fly paper. +He’d have to do a fancy two-step if he wanted to get between them. + +All the while he was crouching and watching me with those two eyes that +were just like fire. Pretty soon a sheet of fly paper drifted down right +near him and he pawed it. Maybe he thought it was a chop, hey? It just +caught his paw and he tried to wipe it off against his face. Good night! +There he was with one of his eyes and the whole top of his head +plastered flat. He looked as if he had been in a fight. + +Then he came closer to the trunk, pawing at his head all the time and +stepped, kerflop, right on another sheet—plunked his foot right down in +the middle of it. Oh bibbie, then you should have seen him! He tried to +rub it off against his head and it stuck there and then there was a +circus. He rolled over on the ground and caught another sheet against +his side. In another second he had one flopping on the end of his tail +and he kept going around after it until pretty soon it got stuck to one +of his legs. Jiminetty! But you should have heard him howl. I bet he was +mad clean through. + +But safety first—oh boy! I dropped another one and it landed right on +his nose; lucky shot. + +By now he was acting just like a cat having a fit and howling like mad. +I guess he couldn’t see at all, because he went, kerplunk, up against a +tree and then rolled away and went banging against the spring house. He +had two sheets on his face and another one on his paw and the whole +front of him was all mucked up with gum and the grass and dirt were +sticking to him. Believe me, he was a sight. He didn’t look much like a +lord of the jungle; he looked more as if he was on his way home from the +hospital. + +You can talk about tanks and machine guns and poison gas and hand +grenades, and all the other new fangled weapons, but tanglefoot for +mine; that’s what _I_ say. If the Allies had used tanglefoot, the war +would have been over three years ago. And if they had spread it all +along the banks of the Marne, the Germans would never have gotten +across, that’s one sure thing. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + I MAKE A PROMISE + + +Honestly, inside of five minutes that wild animal was a wreck. Every +time he tried to claw the paper from his head he howled, because it +pulled his hair and hurt him. I don’t say I was glad to sit up there and +watch him, because there isn’t much fun in seeing animals suffer. Maybe +he wasn’t suffering, but anyway, he was half crazy. But how about me? +Safety first. + +Pretty soon he kind of half rolled and half staggered over against the +trunk of my tree and I knew he couldn’t see at all. Then he lay there +with his back up against it trying to rub the sheet off his back, and +all the while he kept pawing his head and making it worse for himself. I +guess even if he had gotten the paper off, he’d still be blind, because +the gum would keep his eyes shut. + +By that time I knew I was safe, because he was even more helpless than +he would have been if I had shot him and not killed him. It was mostly +because he couldn’t see, and that got him rattled, and you’re no good +when you’re rattled. All I wanted was for him to get away from the tree +so I wouldn’t have to be too near him, and then I’d shinny down and hit +the trail for camp. + +But just then I had another thought. Maybe you won’t believe me, but I +felt sorry for that wild animal. I knew how _I’d_ feel if I was in such +a fix as that. If I had only had a pistol I would have shot him, but boy +scouts don’t carry pistols—only in crazy story books. We never shoot +anything, except the chutes in Coney Island, and you can’t call that +cruelty to animals. + +And if I just went off and left him there, maybe he’d stagger around in +the woods and claw at himself and tear himself all to pieces and get all +bloody and just die. That wouldn’t be much fun, would it? As soon as I +wasn’t scared any more I felt sorry for him—that’s the honest truth. I +saw how he was beaten and I felt sorry for him. I knew he was really +stronger than I was, and that it wasn’t a fair fight. I don’t care what +he intended to do, it wasn’t a fair fight. Even if I had shot him he +might have looked brave and noble, kind of. But with all that stuff on +him and the dirt and grass sticking to his fur, I just sort of felt as +if nobody has a right to make an animal look like that. + +So I took the rope and made a lasso knot in it and let myself down the +trunk as far as I dared. I have to admit I was sort of scared, but you +have to be decent when you win. You have to be, even if it’s only a wild +animal. + +I tried two or three times to get the noose over his head, but I +couldn’t, because he wasn’t still enough. But after a couple of minutes +I managed it and then I tied the other end of the rope to the tree. +After that, I climbed away out to the end of the lowest branch and it +bent down with me and I dropped to the ground. + +First I thought I’d go over and touch him to see how he felt, but I just +didn’t dare to. I was scared of him even then. So I just started off +along the path, going scout pace, and when I got a little way off so I +_knew_ I was safe, I looked back and said, “You stay where you are and +don’t get excited, and I’ll fix it for you.” + +Because anyway, I hadn’t done my good turn yet and it was pretty near +dark. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + SEEING IS BELIEVING + + +The fellows were just thinking about sending a couple of scouts to hunt +for me when I went running pell-mell into camp, shouting that I had +captured a leopard. + +“A what?” Westy asked. + +“A leopard,” I shouted, “as sure as I stand here. Come and see for +yourselves. He’s tied by a rope; he’s got fly paper all over him!” + +“How many sodas did you have?” Harry Donnelle asked me. + +I said, “That’s all right, you just come and see. It’s a leopard; you +can see it for yourself.” + +Harry said, “Sit down, Kiddo, and rest and have a cup of coffee. Guess +you fell asleep by the wayside, hey? Tell us all about your dream. +Here’s a plate of beans. Did you see any mermaids?” + +“Never you mind about beans and mermaids,” I told him; “one man told me +already that they were cow tracks I saw. I guess he wouldn’t want to go +through what I’ve been through since then. The animal had five toes on +his fore feet and four on his hind feet—that’s a leopard, I’m pretty +sure. Anyway, he’s got spots. You come and see.” + +“You don’t think it could have been a spotted calf, do you, Kid?” Harry +said in that nice easy way he has of jollying. “I don’t know much about +calves’ toes, but I’ve eaten calves’ feet.” + +Even after I had told them all about it, they all said I must have been +seeing things and that probably the animal was a raccoon or maybe +_possibly_ a wildcat. Anyway, Harry Donnelle said they’d all go back +with me to the place, because they thought maybe we’d get in trouble on +account of plastering some honest, hard working calf with fly paper. But +just the same he took his rifle, I noticed that. I carried the lantern. + +All the way through the woods they were jollying me and calling me _Roy +the Leopard Killer_, and Harry Donnelle said I must have been carried +off on the magic carpet to India, just like the people in the Arabian +Nights. All the while I didn’t say anything and when we came to the tree +and the spring house, I went ahead and saw that the animal was lying +close to the tree, as if he were asleep. I guess he was all exhausted. +The rope was fast around his body just behind his fore legs where it +couldn’t choke him and where he couldn’t get free of it. He started up +when I went near him, but didn’t seem to get excited. + +I just held the lantern and said, “You see what a fine calf this is. He +ought to win a prize at the County Fair. He’s disguised as a leopard, +but he can’t fool us—I mean you fellows. You can bet boy scouts know a +calf when they see one.” + +They just stood there about fifteen or twenty feet off, staring. Even +Harry Donnelle stood stark still, staring. “What’s the matter?” I said. +“Are you afraid of a poor calf? Come down in the front row; I won’t let +him hurt you.” + +Then Harry came nearer, but the other fellows stood over near the spring +house, so they could scoot inside, I suppose. The Safety First Patrol! + +Harry Donnelle just looked and then he said, +“By—the—great—horn—spoon! It’s a _leopard_.” + +“I thought maybe it was a nanny goat,” I said. + +He just shook his head and looked at the animal all over and said, +“Jumping Christopher! That’s a _leopard_, as sure as you live.” + +“Well, if you insist,” I said. + +“I never heard of a leopard on the North American Continent,” he said, +shaking his head. + +“I guess he swam over, hey?” I said. + +“Jingoes, I hate to shoot him,” he said. + +By now all the bold, brave, heroic Silver Foxes began coming closer to +get a good pike at the leopard. Every time the animal stirred, they’d +back away again. Once the leopard stood up and pulled against the rope +and rubbed his paw over his face, and gee whiz, you should have seen +that bunch scatter. Dorry Benton went scooting into the well house. + +But pretty soon they all saw that there wasn’t any fight left in that +wild beast. He wasn’t suffering, but he was blind and all exhausted. +Even still none of us exactly liked to touch him and we didn’t get too +near; even I didn’t, I have to admit it. + +Harry Donnelle held the lantern over toward the animal and looked at him +ever so long, as if he just couldn’t believe his eyes. “He’s a +magnificent specimen,” he said; “I’d give a good deal to know how he +happened in these parts.” + +“Oh,” I said, “the woods are full of them, they were prowling all around +here when I came through. One of them was about twice as big as that.” +Oh boy, you should have seen those fellows look around through the +woods. Will Dawson went into the spring house to get a drink of water; +he was thirsty all of a sudden. + +All the while Harry Donnelle was kind of pondering and then he said, “A +couple of you kids go into the village and get a wheelbarrow or a cart +or something. I don’t think this fellow is in pain; I’m going to take +him alive. I can’t put a bullet into him. I never saw such a magnificent +specimen.” + +“Suppose we should meet some more,” Hunt Manners said, just as he and +Westy were starting along the path. + +“Take some fly paper with you,” I said, “and think of your brave patrol +leader.” + +“You won’t meet any more,” Harry Donnelle said; “this fellow must have +strayed down out of the mountains. There is a species of leopard found +in America, but I never knew they grew to such a size as this, or had +spots either. Trot along and get back as soon as you can.” + +While the two fellows were gone, Harry tied the leopard’s fore feet and +then his hind feet together with rope. He wound it around good and +plenty and tied it fast, you can bet, and then we just sat around +waiting. + +Pretty soon along came the whole village, postmaster and all, and Hunt +and Westy with a wheelbarrow. Some escort! You’d think Westy and Hunt +were General Pershing getting home from France. I should think they +would have been afraid someone would steal the village while they were +gone. Because you know yourself that there are lots of robberies and +hold-ups and thefts and things since the war. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + MARSHAL FOCH + + +I was sitting up on a branch of a tree when they came along and I heard +the postmaster saying that Cy Berry had lost his heifer and he guessed +maybe now it was found. + +I shouted, “You have one more guess. I think the leopard ate his heifer; +he was terribly hungry.” + +Well, you should have heard them as soon as they had a look at the +animal. One of them said, “I haint seed no leo-pods around these +parts—_neverrr_. And I been livin’ here nigh on to forty year.” + +Harry Donnelle said, “Well, the animal is a leopard just the same. +Either you’ve been staying home most of the time or else he has.” I had +to laugh, it was so funny the way he said it. + +Another one said, “There be’nt no leopards in the Catskills, that’s +sartin.” + +“Well, maybe he was just spending the summer here then,” Harry said; +“but here he is, anyway, and I’d like to get him away from here.” + +“Yer be’nt goin’ ter try to keep him, be yer?” the man asked. + +Harry said, “Yes, I’m just that reckless. I think he’s worth more alive +than dead, if I can spruce him up a bit.” + +“Ye’ll get yer hand bit off,” one of the men said. + +Then Harry said that all he wanted was a place to put the animal till +morning, and he’d see if he couldn’t get some kind of medicine to dope +him with, while he tried to get the fly paper off. I guess they didn’t +like the idea very much, but one of the men whose name was Hasbrook, +said we could put the leopard in his barn till morning if we wanted to. +So they got him into the wheelbarrow and it wasn’t hard doing it on +account of his legs being tied. Then we all started back to the village. + +While we were going along Harry said, “I’ve often heard of a man having +an elephant on his hands, but never a leopard. Maybe we’ll have to shoot +him, but I just hate to do it. I have an idea that gasoline will melt +that stuff, only we’ll have to be careful about his eyes. I’d try it +to-night, only I’m afraid to use the gasoline near a lamp. I’m going to +send a line to the Historical Museum people though, to-night, and one of +you kids can drop it at the office. I daresay there’s a train out of +this burg in a few days.” + +I just couldn’t help saying to him, “I’ll be glad if you don’t shoot +him—I will.” + +He laughed and gave me a rap on the head and said, “You see I know what +it is to be shot, Kiddo. I was shot twice in France. Maybe I’m not much +use, but I’d be less use if I was shot, wouldn’t I? Nobody’s much good +after they’re shot. Ever think of that?” + +“Maybe I didn’t,” I said, “but anyway, I know you’re right. I guess +you’re always right. Anyway, I think the same as you do.” + +“Shooting is no fun,” he said; “don’t shoot till you have to. What do +you say?” + +I said, “You’re right, that’s one sure thing and I’m glad I met you, you +bet.” And you bet I was glad, because he was one fine fellow. Maybe he +was kind of wild sort of, but he was one fine fellow. Mr. Ellsworth said +so, and he ought to know. + +When we came into the village, there was a Fraud car standing in front +of a house and a man just getting out of it. + +“Whatcher got thar, Cy?” he called. + +“A leo-pod,” Cy called back, “an honest ter goodness leo-pod.” + +“Who’s them fellers? The posse?” the man asked. + +“What posse?” Cy called. + +“I thought mebbe you’d caught up with that beast from Costello’s. That +you, Hiram? Taint no reg’lar leo-pod is it?” + +“Reg’lar as church goin’; look on ’em yourself.” + +Harry Donnelle just stood there smiling. Then he said, “Have a look; it +won’t cost you a cent.” + +After the man had looked and Harry had told him all about it, he hauled +out of his overalls a newspaper and said, “Lookee here.” + +We all crowded around him and Harry held the lantern so we could see the +paper. + +“Jest fetched it from Kingston,” the man said. + +Then Harry began reading out loud. This is what he read, because I +pasted that article in our hike record book: + + WILD ANIMAL AT LARGE + + INFURIATED LEOPARD ESCAPES FROM VISITING + CIRCUS—ARMED POSSE SEARCHING WOODS + + While transferring one of the leopards from a cage to a parade + wagon at Costello’s Circus yesterday, the animal becoming + frightened at the sudden striking up of the brass band, forced + his way between the two barred enclosures and made its escape + from the circus grounds. + + An attempt to shoot it as it crouched beneath a Roman chariot in + panic fright was unsuccessful, and before its keeper was joined + by others with revolvers, the animal had sped through the + adjacent fields, frightening some boys who were playing ball, + and was last seen at the foot of Merritt’s hill, near the west + turnpike road. It is supposed that the animal entered the woods + and made for the mountains where a party of circus attaches and + volunteer citizens, fully armed, hope to encounter and destroy + it. + + No serious damage was done by the animal, except the tearing of + a tent which had not yet been raised, as it tore at a rope in + which its leg became entangled. + + When seen this morning Mr. Rinaldo Costello, owner of the + circus, said that no fear need be entertained by citizens, as + the animal would undoubtedly avoid human haunts. He added that + little hope is entertained of catching the beast alive, as these + animals are always taken when cubs, and when grown, fight to the + death all efforts to capture them. The escaped animal, a + magnificent specimen of the leopard family, was imported by Mr. + Costello at a cost of more than six thousand dollars. In + captivity it was said to be comparatively docile. The leopard is + distinctive among animals of the cat family, in having five toes + on its fore paws and four on its hind paws, this being its + unique characteristic. It is said that few full grown leopards + have ever been captured by man, and their value is hence greater + than that of all other animals save the giraffe, which is said + to be all but extinct. This leopard was known as Marshall Foch, + and was a favorite with all the circus people. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE + + +As soon as we got the leopard into Mr. Hasbrook’s barn, we made a hay +bed in one of the stalls and laid him there. I felt awful sorry for him +now that I knew about his history. And I wished that he had never come +near me, but got away into the mountains. Harry Donnelle held the +lantern into the stall and he looked so helpless lying there, with his +feet tied together and grass and dirt all over him and the fly paper on +his face, that I kind of blamed myself. Anyway, I was glad that his +people liked him and missed him. Maybe he’d be glad to get back, hey? + +Harry said, “Good night, Marshal Foch, and good luck to you. Just have a +little patience.” + +He was awfully nice, Harry was. That was just the way he talked. + +Before we went into the house he said, “Suppose three or four of you +kids go back and bring our stuff here and we’ll camp right here on the +spot till we get through with this business.” So the Warner twins and +Will Dawson went back by the road and the rest of us went in the house +with Harry and Mr. Hasbrook. + +When we got in the parlor, Harry looked over the paper and found a big +ad. This is how it read: + + COSTELLO’S MAMMOTH SHOW! + THREE DAYS IN KINGSTON. + + BEASTS OF THE JUNGLE. + WORLD’S CONGRESS OF FREAKS. + DARING ACROBATS. + + JIB JAB, THE WORLD’S MYSTERY. + SEE HIM! + IS HE HUMAN? + GRAND STREET PARADE TO-MORROW. + AT THREE P. M. SEE THE ELEPHANTS. + FREE! FREE! FREE! + + TWO PERFORMANCES DAILY. + COME! + + GRANDEST COMBINATION OF WONDERS + EVER GATHERED UNDER CANVAS. + SUPERB SPECTACLE + + GORGEOUS! STUPEFYING! + ASTOUNDING! + +Harry Donnelle said, “I rather like Mr. Costello already; he’s so +modest. I bet he’s one of those quiet, retiring little ‘_after you, +please_’ men that blushes when you speak to him. We’ll just drop him a +line and one of you kids can hike it over to Saugerties and catch an +early train down to Kingston and hand it to him.” + +I said, “I’ll go.” + +But he said, “No, you’ve had adventures enough and if they ever get you +in a circus they’ll keep you there in the _congress of freaks_.” So it +was decided that Dorry Benton would go. + +While we were waiting for the fellows to come back with our stuff, Harry +wrote the letter and this is what he said. It’s copied word for word out +of our hike record: + + Mr. Rinaldo Costello, Proprietor, + Costello’s Mammoth Show. + Kingston, N. Y. + + Dear Sir: + + This is to inform you that your leopard, Marshall Foch, has been + captured by a boy scout and is alive and well, save that he is + suffering from nervous shock and requires to have his face + washed. + + You may call in your armed posse. You are greatly mistaken in + supposing that leopards may not be captured alive. It requires + only the proper apparatus. + + The bearer of this letter will give you any further information + which you may require, and we shall be glad to see you here, as + soon as it may be convenient for you to call. + + Respectfully, + HARRY C. DONNELLE, + + In charge of Boy Scouts en route. Silver Fox Patrol, + Bridgeboro, New Jersey. Stopping on farm of Mr. Silas + Hasbrook, Bently Centre, N. Y. + +After a little while the fellows came back with our stuff and we put up +our tent between a couple of trees in Mr. Hasbrook’s orchard. He said we +could camp in the house if we wanted, but how can anybody camp in a +house, I’d like to know? You might as well talk about going swimming in +a bath tub. No siree, the orchard for us. Mr. Hasbrook said we could eat +all the apples we wanted to, but we didn’t eat many. I ate five—that +isn’t very many. + +We gathered some sticks and started a camp-fire and I made coffee and +flapjacks and scrambled eggs with egg powder. Mr. Hasbrook’s daughter +brought us out some pie and _um_, _um_, wasn’t it good! Oh boy, it was +nice sprawling around there. But anyway, we turned in early—one o’clock +in the morning is early. You couldn’t turn in much earlier or it would +be the night before. I guess we wouldn’t have turned in then, except +that Dorry had to roll out at about six, so as to catch the train down +to Kingston. + +Harry Donnelle said, “I suppose Mr. Rinaldo Costello will send a +mammoth, astounding, bewildering, astonishing, amazing, stupifying, +extraordinary, remarkable, dazzling, baffling, cavalcade after Marshal +Foch, as soon as he gets our staggering, unbelievable, incredible +letter.” + +We were all of us just sprawling around the fire and Harry was sitting +on a little three legged milking stool and kind of guying Costello’s +mammoth show, in that funny way he had, and saying that Mr. Costello +would probably say I was a matchless, intrepid, dauntless, fearless hero +and adventurer, when all of a sudden that word adventurer put a thought +into my head. + +I said, “When it comes to being a dauntless, fearless adventurer, I +guess nobody has anything on you, that’s one thing sure.” + +“Oh, I’ve had a few games of basketball,” he said. + +“I bet you’ve been to lots of places,” I told him. + +He said, “Well, I’ve attended one or two pink teas and strawberry +festivals. Once I was usher at a concert in an Old Ladies’ Home. The +wildest time I ever had was umpiring a game of checkers.” + +“You didn’t win that Distinguished Service Cross umpiring a game of +checkers,” Westy said. + +“No, I won that playing hide and seek with Fritzie in No Man’s Land,” he +said. “Chuck a little more wood on the fire, Roy.” + +I said, “There’s one thing you never told me about, and you promised to +tell it, too. It’s an adventure, but it’s a kind of a mystery, too.” + +“Well,” he said, “adventures aren’t so much, but I’ll have to make an +extra charge for mysteries. The high cost of mysteries is something +terrible. I don’t know what the mystery may be, but if you’ll go in the +house and get my cigarette case out of the pocket of my coat that’s +hanging in the sitting room, I’ll let you have any mystery I happen to +have in stock at the wholesale price.” + +Oh bibbie, didn’t I scoot in after that cigarette case. He was always +smoking cigarettes, that fellow. He told us never to do it, but he was +always doing it himself. He said he was too old to reform. + +When I came back I said, “It’s about that money of yours—that two +hundred dollars that we found in the locker of the house-boat. It made a +lot of trouble in Temple Camp, that’s one sure thing. Don’t you remember +how you said that you’d tell me all about how you got it, some day?” + +He said, “Oh that; that wasn’t an adventure; that was just an episode.” + +“I know what episodes are all right,” I told him; “didn’t my father have +a couple of them. If there’s a narrow escape, that’s a sign it’s not an +episode; it’s an adventure. You can have episodes any day. + +“Well, there wasn’t a very narrow escape to that one, anyhow,” he said, +laughing all the while; “it was about six feet wide, I guess. But here +goes, if you want it. Gather closer around the fire, because this +adventure is mighty wet.” + +“That’s a sure sign it’s an adventure,” I told him, “because how can an +episode get wet?” + +“I guess you’re right,” he said; “it might get a little damp, but not +really wet. Anyway, do you think you can keep still for about ten +minutes?” + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + BUT I DIDN’T WRITE IT + + +The reason I said that about the two hundred dollars causing a lot of +trouble at Temple Camp was, because a little fellow there named Skinny +McCord (you’ll see him after a while) was suspected of stealing it. A +lot of fellows thought he took it from a fellow while he was saving the +fellow from drowning and then hid it in the house-boat. They thought +_that_ just because he went to the house-boat, and because they found +out that he had a key to the locker. But all the while that money +belonged to Harry Donnelle and he came up to Temple Camp and claimed it, +after I wrote and told him all about Skinny. That’s how he happened to +visit Temple Camp and you can bet I’m glad he did. Anyway, that’s all +part of another story, and maybe you read it. + +Now part of the story that Harry Donnelle told us, I knew already, but +the other fellows didn’t, because I never told them how I had met him +before. So this is the story just the way he told it to us that night, +because afterward I got him to write it out for our hike record. And the +reason I put it in here is, because it has something to do with the +story that comes after this. So here it is, and oh boy, didn’t we listen +as we sat around that camp-fire in Mr. Hasbrook’s orchard. That’s where +stories are best—around the camp-fire. + + HARRY DONNELLE’S YARN + +Well, messmates, when my father told you that you could have the old +house-boat for the summer, you never knew he had a son in the army, now, +did you? But just the same, little Harry was trotting around in Camp +Dix, all dolled up in his lieutenant’s uniform, waiting to be mustered +out. Little Harry had just come home from France where he had been mixed +up in the big—_episode_. + +One fine day I said to myself, “While I’m waiting here, I guess I’ll go +home.” So I got a short leave and the next that was seen of me I was +stepping off the train in Bridgeboro. That was early in the morning; the +dawn was just breaking. Pretty soon it broke. Just as it was all broken +I saw Jake Holden, the fisherman, standing near the milk train. You’ll +see that this is a fish story. It is a fishing _episode_. + +That man persuaded me to go fishing with him. I knew that if I went home +I’d have to meet all my sister’s friends and maybe drink tea and play +tennis. So I decided to go fishing with Jake. I thought I’d be safer. I +was a coward. I was afraid to go home and drink tea and play tennis. So +I went up to the old house-boat where the governor had it tied up in the +creek near home. The scene was dark and gloomy. It was early in the +morning. Even the swamp grass wasn’t up; it was all trampled down. Not a +sound could be heard—except the milkman rattling bottles up near the +house. + +I crept into the house-boat, took off my uniform, put it into a locker +that I had the key of, and togged myself out in a set of old rags which +I found there. Many were the times I had fished in those rags. I don’t +know how long I stayed in the house-boat. Jake was to come through the +creek in his motor boat and I was to meet him. But I was foiled—foiled +by the Boy Scouts. I heard voices in the distance and pretty soon I +recognized my father’s voice and the voice of Skeezeks Blakeley and the +uproarious clamor and frantic utterances of Pee-wee Harris. I can hear +it now, it haunts me night and day. + +I didn’t wait to meet those unexpected guests. I didn’t know that the +house-boat was to become theirs on an extended loan. I sneaked out and +beat it through the marsh grass for all I was worth. + + I love, I love, I love my home, + But, oh, you yellow perch! + +So now you know of my miraculous escape from the boy scouts and the +awful peril I averted of drinking tea and playing tennis. I am now +approaching the darkest scenes of that frightful adventure. + +After my escape from the boy scouts and my honored parent, I went +fishing off the bleak and barren coast of Coney Island. I was swept by +ocean breezes and the smoke from Jake Holden’s pipe. In the distance we +beheld the wild and rugged scenery of Luna Park. I caught some perch, +some bass, a couple of crabs, an eel, two blue fish and a bad cold. We +landed at the iron pier and sold our catch to a man who keeps a +restaurant and serves shore dinners. + +Then we went forth again. The wind was starting to blow a gale and the +smoke from Jake Holden’s pipe enveloped me like a fog. The sky grew +dark. Jake wanted to lift anchor and go ashore, but I said, “No, let’s +stay out, because the fish are biting.” + +What happened next was my fault, not his. We stayed out there fishing in +a blinding gale, the sea coming in in great rollers. Pretty soon the +Luna Park tower was ’way around the corner. Either they had moved it or +else our anchor was dragging. + +“Jake,” I said, “we’re tearing the bottom of the ocean all to pieces; +it’s a shame. We’ll be off Rockaway in about ten minutes, if this keeps +up.” + +“The boat’ll be all tore to pieces, you _mean_” he said, “and _we’ll_ be +in the bottom of the ocean if this keeps up. We’re shipping water by the +bucketful. Let’s get out of this.” + +So we hauled in the anchor and tried to get our power started, but it +was too late. Our plug was short circuiting, the coil was gone plumb +crazy, and most of the Atlantic Ocean seemed to be in the carburetor. +The rest of it was on the floor. Besides all this, the pump was on a +strike—shorter hours, I suppose. + +Kids, we were in one dickens of a fix. It was late afternoon and there +we were blowing around the ocean, bailing to keep on top, and with the +land moving farther and farther away all the time. By dusk the shore was +just a misty line, that was all. Every wave that hit us, meant bailing +like mad to keep our gunwale above water. We took off the muffler and +used it to bail with. + +A dozen times we lighted our lantern and a dozen times the wind or the +sea put it out. It was water-soaked, useless. I said, “Jake, it’s all up +with us,” and he said he guessed it was. + +Boys, I’ve gone forty-eight hours without sleeping, in France. I’ve gone +three days without food. I’ve seen a shell burst into smithereens ten +feet from me. But I’d rather go through all that again, I’d rather play +tennis and drink tea, even, than to go through another night like that. +All night we couldn’t so much as see each other’s faces. Our arms were +stiff. We just bailed, bailed, bailed and kept her from swamping. + +In the morning the weather eased up a little and if we had only had her +running, she would have taken the seas all right. She’s a filthy little +boat, but game. But an engine is never game; it’s always the boat that’s +game. A gas engine is a natural born coward and a quitter. A hull will +fight to the last. If our engine hadn’t lain down, we could have hit the +sea crossways and we’d have skimmed over it like a car on a scenic +railway. But the swell got us sideways and we swung like a hammock. + +Anyhow, we could ease up a little on the bailing and before the sun was +well up, we were able to use the oar. We had only one, because the other +one was carried away. But we managed to keep that little jitney head-on, +and pretty soon we knew it wasn’t a case of drowning, but more likely a +case of starving. There wasn’t a speck of land in sight. We might have +been half way to Europe for all _I_ knew. + +Well, after a while Jake said, “What’s that? Looks like a log floating.” + +It didn’t look like anything much, but it wasn’t the ocean, that was +sure, and we tried to make it with our oar. The thing was drifting in on +us, so we didn’t have to do all the work—just get in its path. We could +slacken our own drifting with the oar, so pretty soon we were alongside +it and saw it was a swamped life boat. There was one man floating around +in it-dead. That two hundred dollars belonged—or rather was in his +pocket. There were some other things in his pockets too; some things +that started me guessing. I think you kids had better tarn in now; it’s +getting late. + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + NO! NO! NO! GO ON! GO ON! + + +All right, there isn’t much more. We had no guess how long the man had +been in the boat or whether he had starved or what. He might have been +dead several days, I thought. The life boat was awash. There was the +name of some ship or other on the bows, but the boat had been painted +since the name was printed there, and all I could make out was a few +indistinct letters under the fresh paint. I made out an L, then DY, then +NNE. I have a hunch the name was _Lady Anne_, but maybe not. + +The man must have been a pretty rough character from all I could judge; +a sailor, I daresay. It was out of the question rescuing the body. Every +ounce of weight in our own boat made it worse for us, and we couldn’t +have hauled it over the side without danger. So we did the next best +thing and that was to go through his pockets in the hope of finding +something to identify him. + +You getting sleepy? No? Well, we found a weather wallet on him. Know +what that is? It’s a pocket-book made of rubber. You can see them in +ship supply stores all along South street in New York. In there he had +two hundred and seven dollars and a letter. The writing was all smeared +and some of it I couldn’t read at all. I couldn’t make out the address, +but I _think_ it was signed “Father.” + +That was no place to be doping things out, with the seas rolling us +goodness knows where, so I just stuffed the money in my trouser pocket, +because it made too big a wad to go in my wallet. But I dried the letter +as best I could and put it away in this little case I always carry. +Here’s the case and here’s the letter now. And I suppose that if there’s +any mystery, as you call it, why this is _it_. + +Now just wait and don’t get excited and you’ll see the letter. Just let +me finish. We pushed off from the life boat and I think it must have +sunk soon afterward. The sea got pretty calm after a while and late that +afternoon we were picked up by a schooner and set ashore. + +Jake and I agreed to say nothing about our discovery; I’ll tell you the +reason in a minute. He forgot and blurted out something about our +finding a life boat and it got into the newspapers, but no harm was +done, because after our rescue we gave the names of Mike Corby and Dan +McCann and after we had started home, no one knew who to hunt for, even +if they wanted to. + +But the principal reason we gave false names was, because my leave from +camp was already up and I didn’t want anybody, my own folks especially, +to know that I had sidestepped home and mother to go off on a crazy +fishing trip. Get me? + +Jake went home and I haven’t seen him since. I hustled to Bridgeboro by +train, sneaked over to Little Valley in a big hurry to change my duds +and—the house-boat was gone. The boy scouts had carried away my uniform +and Lieutenant Donnelle was a ragged outcast, a couple of days overdue +at camp. + +How to get my uniform, that was the question. The boy scouts had done me +a bad turn. I traced the fugitive house-boat to St. George, Staten +Island. I lurked near shore till dark, and when a party of you kids came +ashore and one of you mentioned to another that a certain Roy had +remained on board, I said, “Here is my chance.” + +I rowed over, made his acquaintance, took him into my confidence, +obtained his promise of silence, and changed my clothes. I found him a +bully little scout. The old rags which went by the name of trousers I +put into the locker, forgetting in my hurry, to take the two hundred and +seven dollars. After fastening the locker I took some change out of my +uniform to reward our young friend, but he spurned my offer. I must have +dropped the locker key when I pulled the change out of my pocket. As you +all know, little Skinny found it and got himself suspected of hiding the +money in the locker. So much for that. I returned to camp and got +slapped on the wrist for being late. + +But the letter which I had taken from that dead man I had with me, and +here it is now. When I visited Temple Camp upon the urgent plea of my +old pal Skeezeks, I claimed the two hundred and seven dollars, but it +was not mine. + +_It wasn’t the dead man’s either._ + +Now listen to this water-soaked letter, or as much of it as I can make +out: + + —hundred dol—is a good deal of money. — to —be careful. + —such places— are likely —get robbed. + + thought you—glad—get the ring. —wear —on second finger of + left hand —war. —these fifty years. —real cameo—head— + Lincoln. —getting along—to—make two ends meet—to each one + who left our village—— + +There is quite a lot more, but I can’t make it out. + +Well, kids, I’ve studied that letter like a spelling lesson and this is +what I make out of it. I can kind of see a picture of an old fellow that +fought in the Civil War. I don’t know who he is or where he is. But I +can see him in an old faded blue uniform. I kind of like him. Look in +the fire, every one of you, and keep your eyes fixed on the blaze. See +him? I do. I can see him just as plain—poor old codger. Funny thing, a +camp-fire, isn’t it? I can see him better now than I could before. He’s +got white hair and he’s writing a letter to that kid of his in France +and telling him to be careful of that money. He’s having a hard time +trying to make two ends meet. Poor old fellow, he’s warning that son of +his about places in France where soldiers get robbed. I’ve seen some of +those places, sailors’ hang-outs, in Brest, and I can back him up there. + +I have a kind of hunch that the old fellow—put some more wood on, +Roy—I have a kind of a hunch that he sent the kid a ring, a cameo ring, +with the head of President Lincoln on it. I can see old honest Abe +now—right there where the new sticks are blazing up. Huh? Maybe it’s +only a crazy notion; what do you say? But I’ve doped out a kind of a +notion that that old fellow got the ring when he started off to war; +that somebody or other presented one to each fellow that left the +village. I’d give a doughnut to know where that village is. + +Anyway, the old man wore it on the second finger of his left hand and I +kind of think he wanted that kid of his to do the same—over there in +the trenches. + +Maybe I’m just a sort of a day dreamer, but that’s the picture I’ve had +in my mind ever since I was fishing with Jake Holden. And it seems to +all fit together now when I look right there in that blaze. Pretty good +camp-fire yarn, hey? Not so worse? Just look into the fire yourselves +and think about that letter. Nothing but a kind of fancy, hey? Faces in +the blaze and all that sort of stuff. Never saw me get sentimental +before, did you—Skeezeks? + +The funny part of the whole thing is that the man we saw in the boat +_didn’t have any second finger on his left hand_. It couldn’t have been +his finger the writer of the letter meant. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + THE MYSTERY + + +Gee whiz, I didn’t even know that he had stopped talking. I was just +looking into the blaze and I could see the whole thing right there. +Maybe it wasn’t true at all, but anyway, I could see it. Especially I +could see the old man. That’s just the way it is with camp-fires. + +Then, all of a sudden Harry Donnelle poked up the fire and began to +laugh. “Funny, hey?” he said. + +I said, “Do you think the dead man in the boat stole the money and the +letter?” + +“The letter happened to be with the money,” Harry said; “I don’t know +that I think anything in particular. But how did a sailor with the +second finger of his left hand gone, happen to have a letter asking him +to wear a ring on that finger. How about the soldier who is warned +against going where he will get robbed? Maybe he went, after all, and +got robbed. We might start a search for a soldier who happens to have a +second finger on his left hand. But then, quite a few soldiers enjoy +that distinction. So there we are—up a tree. But here is a sailor with +two hundred odd dollars and a letter referring to two hundred dollars. +There is something about him wearing a ring on a certain finger and he +doesn’t happen to have that finger. Funny. + +“Well then, here’s a query—as long as queries don’t cost anything. +Might not the sailor have robbed the soldier of his two hundred and odd +dollars? And just neglected to destroy the letter that was with it? You +see, kids, I just ran plunk into the middle of the thing and I’d like to +get hold of one end or the other. Somebody or other got a ring when he +went away to war fifty years ago. He lived in a village. Who was he? +Whoever he is, he’s having a hard job making two ends meet. If I could +find him I think I’d turn over this money to him. Now at the other end +of the line, somewhere, is a fellow that ran chances of being +robbed—reckless, like your Uncle Dudley. He’s got a ring with President +Lincoln’s face cut on it—a cameo. I’d like to find _him_. + +“But you see I haven’t any way of finding either of them. The only thing +I’m sure about is that the dead sailor couldn’t have worn the ring. His +finger had been gone many years, that’s sure. So what are we going to do +about it? I guess we’ll go to bed. But that isn’t getting us anywhere, +is it?” + +“Funny, hey? Kind of a mystery after all—Skeezeks.” + + * * * * * + +I guess every one of us lay awake thinking about it that night. Anyway, +I know I did. And most all the time till the day we got home, we kept +talking about it. Harry Donnelle would always laugh and say maybe there +wasn’t anything to it at all and that if he knew who the sailor was, +he’d go and give the money to his people—probably. + +He said he guessed the camp-fire up at Temple Camp was what started him +seeing pictures. But always he would say how it was funny that a man +without his second finger should have that letter on him. But he said +that as long as there wasn’t any finger, it couldn’t point anywheres, +and we should worry. + +But just the same all the way home, whenever we started a camp-fire, +we’d look into it and kind of see an old soldier with white hair and a +blue coat and then we’d see a young fellow, wearing khaki, and a ring +with Lincoln’s head cut on it. + +In the fire we made near Orange Lake just before we hit Newburgh, we saw +a soldier in a kind of a restaurant where there were a lot of sailors +and we saw them take something away from him. But that’s always the way +it is with camp-fires. Mostly we saw the old soldier. + +Harry Donnelle always laughed about it and said the camp-fire was a +regular art gallery and he guessed he’d give that unlucky two hundred +dollars to an orphan asylum, or to the widows and orphans of the poor +garage keepers or to the destitute Standard Oil Company. So it got to be +a kind of a joke, and that’s the way it was till the whole thing was +solved. And I’m going to tell you all about it, too, but I can’t bother +now, because I have to tell you about our hike and the crazy thing that +happened next day. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + APPALLING! WONDERFUL! MAGNIFICENT! + + +Anyway, there was one person we never saw in the camp-fire blaze and +that was Mr. Costello. If we had, we wouldn’t have seen the blaze. He +was so big that he would have filled the whole fire. Harry Donnelle said +he could even have blown a camp-fire out if he wanted to—even the big +one at Temple Camp. + +I wasn’t awake when Dorry started for Kingston in the morning, so I +didn’t hear him go. But I knew when he came back all right. If I hadn’t +known it, it would have been because I was dead. + +He got back before noon and the first I saw of him he was sitting on a +big, high fancy seat of a cage wagon, wedged in alongside a great big +man with a high hat on and a cutaway coat and a red vest. The big man +was driving and the two horses had sleigh bells on them and fancy +harness and they made an awful racket. They were dandy white horses, +though. Dorry looked awful scared and little alongside the big man. The +cage wagon was all gold color and fancy on the top and the wheels looked +like Fourth of July pinwheels. + +Harry said, “Mr. Costello doesn’t exactly look as if he had sneaked off, +does he? He’s not ashamed to be seen. What’s that, a searchlight?” + +I said, “No, it’s a diamond; he’s got diamonds all over him. Somebody +must have sprinkled him with diamonds before he started. He had them +everywhere except on his feet. He had a big long whip in his hand, too. +There was a man in the cage, besides; I guess he was a keeper.” + +Harry said, “Get me a pair of smoked glasses, will you?” + +As soon as the big man got down he took off his high hat and waved it +and said, “How do you do, sir.” He said it in a big round voice, kind +of. + +Then he said, “I am Mr. Rinaldo Costello, proprietor of Costello’s +Mammoth Show.” He talked so loud that he almost scared us. + +Harry just said, “When I saw you coming I thought it was the village +undertaker. We’re glad to welcome you to our temporary camp. We are also +touring the country; this is my mammoth show.” Then he pointed to all of +us fellows who were standing around, and Mr. Costello took off his hat +again and waved it and bowed very low and held his whip so that I +thought he was going to give us a crack with it, only he didn’t. I guess +he was used to cracking that whip. It was awful funny the way Harry sat +on the fence talking to him. I don’t know how it was, but that fellow +could be awful funny. + +Mr. Costello said, “This young gentleman who you were kind enough to +send, has told me a very _thrilling_ story. If it is all true I must pay +my tribute to the dauntless young scout whose valor in combat is truly +matchless.” + +“Excuse me while I blush,” I said. I just couldn’t help saying it. + +“He is known as Roy the Leopard Catcher,” Harry said. “In the wilds of +Catskill village he is known by the natives as Skeezeks—Skeezeks the +Bold. Allow me to introduce him.” Then he grabbed me by the hair and +shoved me right out in front. Then he said, “Like all true heroes, he is +modest. But perhaps you will wish to see Marshal Foch. We shall be sorry +to part with him.” + +Then they all followed Mr. Costello and Harry to the barn. Mr. Costello +walked as if the whole world was looking at him. He looked awful funny, +all dressed up that way in the country. I bet he was hot. I didn’t go, +because I wanted to look at that cage wagon. It had gold mermaids on the +corners of it, and oh boy, wasn’t it fancy. The mermaids’ tails went all +along the sides. Inside there was hay on the floor. I bet it was fun for +Dorry, riding on that thing. Every time the white horses stamped the +bells would jingle afterward. Harry said it sounded like a junk wagon, +but _I_ liked them anyway. + +I wished I was the man to ride inside of that cage with Marshal Foch. I +guess he knew how to handle leopards all right, hey? Maybe they were +good friends even. Gee whiz, I like hiking better than anything else, +except apple pie, but anyway, I’d like to be in a parade, that’s one +thing. That’s just what I said. I said it out loud to myself. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + ON TO GLORY + + +When they came back the keeper was leading Marshal Foch with a rope, and +the fly paper was gone from his head and his body. Harry Donnelle said +they melted the stickum with gasoline and that it didn’t hurt the +leopard much. He said it came off easier than a porous plaster does. You +bet I was glad; because that leopard and I were kind of friends. Anyway +I would have been glad. The keeper had a pistol but I guess it was just +safety first because the animal walked along by him just as meek as +could be and walked right up the slanting board into the wagon. I guess +he knew that keeper all right. His eyes were kind of half shut and all +sticky like, and his nice fur was all stuck up but the men said they +could fix him all right as soon as they had time. + +I just couldn’t help saying, “So long, Marshal Foch, I’m sorry I had to +do it; see you later.” He just walked back and forth in the cage, awful +graceful, as if he was looking to see if everything was all right, and +maybe he was glad to get back, hey? + +Then Mr. Costello said in his big loud voice, just as if he was making a +speech, “I am going to give the people of Kingston, _absolutely free_, +an opportunity to view for the first time in America, the dauntless +young hero of two continents.” I don’t know why he said two continents, +because I only live on one, and believe me, that’s enough. + +But most everything he said had _two continents_ in it. Harry said it +was a wonder he forgot Mars and the Moon. “The dauntless young hero +scout, pride of two continents,” that’s what he said. Oh boy, didn’t I +blush! And didn’t Harry Donnelle laugh! + +“May I ask your name, sir?” Mr. Costello said. + +I told him, “Roy Blakeley.” + +“I would like you to ride with Marshal Foch in the parade,” he said, +“and later at the performances. I think I will call you _Roy the +Redoubtable_; or perhaps _Blakeley the Bold_ would be better. This is an +opportunity of a lifetime to the people of Kingston. It will rejoice the +scouts of two continents to see their intrepid young hero riding in +triumph with the savage, man eating, beast that he subdued.” + +Harry said, “That would be delightful. What do you say, Roy?” + +I said, “_Good night_, I won’t have to ride in the cage with him, will +I? I like him all right, but—but we’re not—kind of, we’re not yet well +acquainted yet.” + +Mr. Costello said, “You will ride on the seat outside, as his triumphant +conqueror. You will outrival the gladiators of ancient Rome. You will +listen to the plaudits of the multitude. Are you able to look fierce? +Just a little fiery? Just a little suggestion of fearless courage and +intrepid power in your eyes? Something like _this_.” Oh boy, he gave me +a look that nearly knocked me over. + +Harry said, “Try it, Roy.” + +I looked as fierce as I could, and all the fellows broke out laughing. + +“That will be fine,” Mr. Costello said; “just a little glance of the eye +to strike terror as you look from left to right. Our advance agent will +do the rest. There is not much time, but he will see that the people are +advised of their opportunity. The boys of Kingston will thrill with +pride and glory. Step up to the seat, my young friend.” + +I said, “I don’t believe I can look fierce enough, honest I don’t.” + +Harry Donnelle was just sitting there on the fence laughing so hard I +thought he’d fall off. All of the fellows began guying me and saying I +was a fool to be scared and that they wished they had the chance. But +gee whiz, I was never part of a circus before, and I didn’t want to sit +’way up on the top of that fancy wagon and just look fierce. I bet you +wouldn’t, either. + +Pretty soon we were driving away and Mr. Costello looked awful big +sitting there beside me. He kept cracking his whip all the time. + +“So long, see you at the parade!” the fellows shouted. + +“Don’t get nervous,” Harry called. + +“I should worry,” I called back; “I don’t care what becomes of me now.” + + * * * * * + +They had big red shutters with gold designs to cover up the cage so no +one could see Marshal Foch, and the keeper sat on the step in back. Oh +boy, how that Mr. Costello did drive; and he could crack the whip so it +sounded like a rifle going off. + +Pretty soon we came pell-mell into Kingston and I could see the circus +posters in all the store windows and on the fences. The pictures of Mr. +Costello looked just like him, kind of brave and bold like, and he +always had a whip in his hand. I guess he slept with that whip under his +pillow, hey? + +While we were passing along one of the streets, a half a dozen scouts +shouted to me and I gave them the scout salute. + +Mr. Costello said, “Those intrepid young gentlemen will be proud of +their young comrade; the whole city will do you honor for your daring +and dauntless deed.” I noticed that whenever he strung together a lot of +words they all began with the same letter. It sounded fine, too. + +I said, “I know one thing, and that is I’d like to have a rich, red, +rare, racy, raspberry soda, just now.” + +“You will soon be able to regale your ravenous and rapacious capacity +among the freaks of two continents who will accord you a warm and +wonderful welcome,” he said. + +Gee, you couldn’t beat him at it, that was one sure thing. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + JIB JAB, IS HE HUMAN? + + +Jiminy crinkums, I may be a nut (that’s what the troop calls me anyway), +but I’m not a freak and, believe me, when I saw who I was going to have +dinner with that day—_good night!_ + +They all sat around a big mess board that stood on horses just like at +Temple Camp. It was in a side tent. Judge Dot sat right next to me; he +was a midget. I guess he was only about three feet high, and he had a +special chair. On the other side of me was Lieutenant Lemuel Long; he +was the thin man. He was about as fat as a clothes pole. He didn’t eat +much, but it wasn’t because he didn’t have any appetite. He said he had +a contract with Mr. Costello not to eat much, because that would make +him fat. He said he had a contract not to weigh more than eighty pounds. +Gee, you’ve got to keep a contract if you make one, that’s one thing. + +[Illustration: HE TOOK THE FUR RIGHT OFF HIS HEAD.] + +But anyway, Madame Whopper could eat all she wanted to; she was the fat +lady. She was a marvelous mammoth—that’s what it said under the +picture. She ate nine pieces of pie. I ate four, but anyway, she was a +professional. They kept bringing her more pie. Judge Dot said once she +ate eleven pieces. I liked Judge Dot, because he said he was sorry about +Marshal Foch. He gave me his picture with his name on. He said if it was +anyone else but me, it would cost a quarter. + +But anyway, the one I liked best was Jib Jab, is he human? He had fur +just like a bear, but a head like a man, only his face was brown and it +had long hair on it. His face didn’t look exactly like a man and it +didn’t look exactly like animal. First I was kind of scared, because in +the pictures he was in a cage and he was grabbing hold of the bars and +glaring awful fierce and wild. And, gee whiz, I didn’t want to eat +dinner with a wild animal. Oh boy, didn’t I have a good scare when I saw +him coming to the table! + +He jumped over the board seat and sat down right opposite me and took +the fur right off his head, just as if he was scalping himself and laid +it on the ground. He looked more like a man then. + +He looked across and said to me, “Hello, old top, how are they treating +you?” + +I said, “I’m feeling pretty well.” + +“Going into the parade, I hear,” he said. “That was quite a stunt you +pulled. You’d never catch me like that if I once broke loose. Think you +could?” + +I said, “Maybe I couldn’t, but anyway, I guess you’re human, all right.” + +Then he began to laugh and said to the thin man, “How goes it, Skinny; +you going to ride?” + +I guess he meant the parade. The fat woman said, “I wouldn’ do no ridin’ +fer no proprietor, not me. The public has got to come to _me_; I wouldn’ +never go to _them_.” + +Jib Jab said, “All in the game.” + +Judge Dot said, “It’s different with you, Jib; you ain’t human and you +can’t say for yourself. You’re in the menagerie class. You got to ride +in your cage. You ain’t a regular freak. I never heard of no parade work +in a freak contract.” + +Madame Whopper said, “I wouldn’ do parade work fer no proprietor, ride +or walk, I wouldn’ not even Barnum hisself, I wouldn’.” + +Jib Jab said for me to pass him the butter and then he winked at me and +he said, “You’re too particular, Ma. Parade work is all right. I like +parade work, except I can’t smoke. How about it, Kid?” + +I said I didn’t mind being in a parade, but I wouldn’t want to ride in a +cage like he had to do. + +He laughed and said it was all in the game. He said if he ever broke out +of that cage, I’d never capture him until he came back for his money on +Saturday night. + +I said “Sometimes boy scouts find people; sometimes they hunt for people +that are lost. In our magazine there’s always a notice if a scout is +lost and all the scouts are on the look out for him.” + +“Yes, but those people are human,” he said. + +I said, “Gee whiz, I can’t deny that.” + +“You never hunted for a _what-is-it_, did you?” he asked, awful funny +like. + +I told him, “No, I never did, but once a troop of scouts found a girl +that was lost on a mountain, and there was another troop that found a +fellow just from seeing his name in the newspapers.” + +He said, “You’re a wide awake bunch, you kids. They don’t have any boy +scouts in the jungle where I was captured alive. If you ever get on my +trail, I’d give you a run all right.” + +I asked him where that jungle was where he was captured alive, and he +said it was on Washington Avenue in the Bronx. + +He was an awful nice fellow. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + THE PARADE + + +Before we were finished I could hear the band playing outside and when I +went out all the wagons and chariots and things were in a line ready to +start. There were two elephants, a big one and a baby one, and about a +half a dozen cage wagons with animals in them and a steam calliope and a +lot of things, all gold and red. There were some dandy white horses. + +On Marshal Foch’s cage was a big sign that said: + + MARSHAL FOCH + THE RETURNED LEOPARD + AND + SCOUT BLAKELEY + PRIDE OF TWO CONTINENTS! + HIS DARING AND DAUNTLESS CAPTOR. + +I climbed up to the seat and sat by the driver. He had an awful fancy +hat and kind of tinsel stuff all over him. He had a tassel on his hat +and it kept blowing in my face. I didn’t know what they were waiting +for, but pretty soon Jib Jab came out and he had a chain around his leg. +He looked pretty fierce and savage. A keeper was holding the chain and +Jib Jab pulled and jerked on it, so a lot of people who were standing +around backed away. The wagons were all around in a circle so I could +see him in his cage, and he winked at me while the keeper was fixing the +chain to one of the bars. + +Oh boy, but that was some parade! The streets were all full of people +and the steam calliope made so much noise you’d think you were in a +boiler factory. Oh, didn’t everybody stare at me! I guess my face was as +red as the fancy wagons, but what did I care? On one of the streets I +saw Harry Donnelle and the other fellows coming out of a candy store. +They were all wiping their mouths with their handkerchiefs and Westy was +rubbing his stomach with his hand, as if he had been eating something +good. They just did that to jolly me, I bet. I should worry about them. +Then they all began laughing at me, because I was trying to look fierce +and bold. Maybe you think that’s easy. + +Gee, I guess we went through every street in Kingston, with people +staring at me all the while, and kids hooting, but I didn’t care. +Anyway, I was proud to ride on that wagon. + +Just when we were coming back into the circus grounds, I saw Harry +Donnelle and the patrol and some other scouts waiting, so I climbed +down, because I wanted to be with them. Mr. Costello came out and talked +to us and said that I did fine. He said I was the idol of thronging +multitudes—that’s just what he said. I was good and thirsty, I know +that. Gee, didn’t Harry Donnelle laugh. + +Mr. Costello said, “The boy scouts are an honor to this great and +glorious country and I should like to take our intrepid young friend to +Europe to appear before the high nobility.” Harry said that I was a +modest kid and that he guessed one continent was about all I could carry +in my pocket. He said that some day maybe I’d pick up Europe if I +happened to be passing that way. + +Then Mr. Costello gave us all tickets to the show that night and after +that he made me a speech and said how I was beloved by all the world +renowned personages in the side show. He said that Madame Whopper told +him I was a little gentleman. A scout is courteous—oh joy. Then he put +his arm over my shoulder and walked away with me and told me not to talk +very much about Jib Jab being human, because he wanted the people to +decide for themselves. He said it wasn’t telling a lie, because he never +said Jib Jab wasn’t human. He just said, “Is he human?” + +He said it’s all right to ask a question. + +Gee whiz, nobody can deny that. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + WE VISIT THE SIDE SHOW + + +Those scouts that we met were nice fellows. They were hiking back to +Newburgh; that’s where they lived. They told us they had hiked up along +the river to visit a place named Elm Center, about ten or fifteen miles +west of Kingston. They said they had a bivouac camp just outside the +city and that they had stayed there for a couple of days, so as to take +in the circus. + +We all went to the show together that night, and I sat on Marshal Foch’s +cage wagon and rode around in the parade at the beginning of the show. +All the fellows cheered me, even those new fellows. After the show I +told them all that I wanted to go into the side show and say good-bye to +my friends. We were all standing outside and Dorry Benton said, “I’ll go +with you.” + +Of course, as soon as he said that, they all wanted to go, but Harry +said he guessed two were enough. So Dorry and I went in and made a call. +The freaks were getting ready to go to bed, but anyway, they were glad +to see us. I guess Madame Whopper slept in another tent; anyway, we +didn’t see her. Maybe she had a whole tent to herself. + +Mr. Lemuel Long said he was hungry and he wished he could eat a lot like +scouts do. Gee, I have to admit that scouts eat a lot—especially +dessert. You can bet I wouldn’t want to be a human skeleton. Judge Dot +said he should worry, because he couldn’t grow any taller no matter what +happened. He said he was fifty-two years old and after you get to be +fifty-five you begin to shrink. He said everybody does, mostly. He said +if he shrunk, he was going to make Mr. Costello give him more money. Gee +whiz, I couldn’t blame him, especially on account of the high cost of +living. He said Madame Whopper had gained fifty pounds and she made Mr. +Costello give her a raise. + +While we were talking with Judge Dot, Jib Jab came in and said, “Hello, +Scouty, how did you like the show?” + +I said, “You looked good and wild, that’s one thing, especially with +that chain on.” He said that chain was his own idea. + +I guess he had just been washing his face, anyway, there wasn’t any hair +on it and the brown was all cleaned off. I could see now that he was a +mighty nice looking fellow. His hair was kind of curly and his eyes were +awful bright. He took off his fur covering and put on a kind of a bath +robe and then sat down on a chair and stuck his feet up on Madame +Whopper’s platform. Oh boy, you should have seen Dorry stare. First he +looked at the fur covering. It had paws and claws on it just like an +animal. Then he looked at Jib Jab. I guess he didn’t know what to make +of him. + +Jib Jab said, “Now for a smoke,” and he lighted a cigarette; “nothing +like a quiet smoke after the day’s work is over. Back in the jungle I +never had all this bother of dressing and undressing. Civilization is +just killing me. Fact is I can’t be tamed. Anybody got a newspaper? I +suppose I ought to be thankful I haven’t got my face all plastered up +with fly paper. Where’s old Sky Scraper?” That’s what he called the +giant. + +“Gone to bed,” Judge Dot said. + +“How about you, Shorty; got a match?” he asked Judge Dot. + +Judge Dot just said very stiff like, “I’ll bid you good night, sir.” + +“Happy dreams, Shorty,” Jib Jab called after him. Then he said, “That’s +the trouble with all these freaks—uppish, especially the giant. Why he +looks down on everybody. Ma’s about the best of the lot. Shorty thinks +he’s the whole circus just because he has three rings on his hands. Same +with Skinny. I’d rather be back in the jungle than living with this +bunch. Half the time they don’t speak to me. You see I’m not a regular +freak; they look on me as a kind of a butt-in.” + +I said, “Gee, I’m sorry; I should think they’d like you.” + +“They’re all jealous,” he said; “that’s the trouble. They’re all down on +parade work, even Ma. They couldn’t stand for me making a hit with that +chain. Last week, up in Albany, I started to growl just as Shorty +started selling his photographs. The louder he piped away with that +silly little squeaky voice of his, the more I roared. When it comes to +roaring, I’ve got even the lions jealous. Fact is I’m not liked; they +are all jealous, even the animals. And I feel it, too; any honest hard +working _what-is-it_ would. Especially if he’s human. The little +two-headed boy we had was about the best of the lot, only he was double +faced. He’s with Barnum’s now—fifty a week and overtime.” + +“I don’t see why you want to be a _what-is-it_,” I told him; “especially +if they don’t treat you right.” + +He just went on smoking, awful funny, kind of. Jiminy, I couldn’t make +him out at all. + +He said, “Now you take Teddy Roosevelt, the elephant. He’s what you’d +call a big attraction—very big. Do you suppose he’d refuse to pal with +me just because I’m a poor, neglected _what-is-it_? Only this morning we +had a bag of peanuts together; he and I and little Ruth. He’s just as +plain and democratic as he can be. But you see my position isn’t easy. +I’m human and yet I’m not. I don’t know where I fit in. The animals are +kind of leary; you can’t blame them. And the freaks are as stuck up as +poor old Marshal Foch was. Sometimes I wish I was back in the jungle.” + +Jingoes, I didn’t know how to take him at all, and I could see Dorry was +just staring at him as if he didn’t know whether he was jollying us or +not. + +“Anyway, we have to be sorry for you,” I said. He just kept puffing on +his cigarette and he said, “Well, it’s good to sit back here when the +freaks have turned in and have a quiet smoke. Pretty strenuous work +jerking and pulling on that chain. It’s a hard life being a question +mark.” + +“You said something,” I told him; “cracky, I wouldn’t want to be a +_what-is-it_.” + +He just said, “No, when you grow up, make up your mind whether you’re +going to be human or not. Don’t try to be two things. Don’t be a +question mark. Why away down in my savage, primeval heart, I wouldn’t +hurt a kitten. Yet here I am growling and roaring and wrenching at my +cage bars and straining at that old chain, and the children and old +ladies back up on the street when they see me, frightened out of their +lives. I’m not loved by anyone. It’s mighty hard. Either one of you kids +got a cigarette about you?” + +I told him no, that scouts didn’t smoke cigarettes. + +He said, “Well, drop in and see me down at Poughkeepsie or Newburgh if +you happen in when we’re there. You’re always welcome.” + +Gee, we just couldn’t make heads or tails of that fellow. Anyway, I +liked him. And I had to admit that that was good advice he gave me about +making up my mind whether to be human or not. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + BRENT GAYLONG + + +The fellows were all waiting for us when we came out and we hiked out to +where those scouts had their camp. There were only five of them, one +patrol, and the biggest one was a kind of scoutmaster and patrol leader +rolled into one. His name was Brent Gaylong. I walked with him behind +the others and he told me all about his patrol and the troubles they +had. He was an awful nice fellow, kind of quiet like; but he was funny, +too. Christopher, that little troop must have been started on Friday the +thirteenth, that’s one thing sure. + +I said, “What’s the name of your patrol?” + +“Well,” he said, “we call ourselves the Church Mice, because we’re so +poor. First we were going to call ourselves the Job’s Turkeys, but we +decided that a church mouse was poorer than Job’s turkey.” + +I had to laugh. I said, “I’ve heard of most every kind of an animal’s +name used for patrols, but never a church mouse. My patrol is the Silver +Fox.” + +“That’s a bully name,” he said. + +“Anyway,” I told him, “the name hasn’t got so much to do with it. There +was a patrol up at Temple Camp named the Pollywogs and they were all +nice fellows. But they couldn’t keep still, they were always wriggling. +Maybe they’re frogs by this time, hey? A fellow up there told me about a +patrol named the Caterpillars and afterwards they changed it to the +Butterflies. He said there’s a patrol out west named the Mock Turtles. +There’s a lot of crazy fellows come to Temple Camp. One of them said +there was a fellow in his troop named Welsh and he was chosen leader of +a new patrol and they wanted to call it the Welsh Rabbits. Church Mice +is all right, I think.” + +He said, “It’s appropriate anyway. I’d like to see a camp like that +Temple Camp; it must be great. Trouble with us is we’ve had such plaguey +hard luck. I guess there’s only one thing harder than our luck and +that’s the biscuits we make.” + +I said, “I can make hard ones.” + +Then he said, “You see, first our scoutmaster had to go to war. We were +just starting then. It hit us a good whack. We tried to get another, but +scoutmasters were pretty scarce; they were scarcer than coal and sugar. +They were all in France. So I took the job. I suppose we could get one +now, but since we’ve worried along all this time without one, we decided +to wait till our scoutmaster gets back. He’ll be back in a couple of +weeks, I understand, and we want to give him a welcome. We’ve got two +dollars and fourteen cents toward it so far—two dollars and four cents, +really, because there’s a Canadian dime. If there are any Canadian dimes +around, we’re sure to get them. Then our little shanty burned down. It +was about the best camp-fire I ever saw, only it left us without a +meeting-place. We still have our scout smiles; they don’t cost anything. +If they did, we couldn’t afford them.” + +I said, “That’s one thing about scout smiles; they’re the only things +that haven’t gone up.” + +“So here we are,” he said, “hiking back home after one of our fool +enterprises. We intended to go down on the train, but we went to the +circus instead.” + +“It’s about thirty miles down to Newburgh,” I said; “you’ll have to +bivouac twice anyway.” + +He said, “I guess we’ve got eats enough.” + +“We might as well all hike that far together,” I told him. + +“Good idea,” he said, “if you don’t mind chumming up with a travelling +poor-house.” + +“We should worry about being poor,” I said; “I know a man that’s rich +and he can’t hike at all. He goes on crutches. How would you like to be +him? Anyway, don’t you fellows get discouraged.” + +“Don’t worry,” he said; “first it was hard, but now we’ve come to like +it. You can get a lot of fun out of hard luck. And all we need is time, +I suppose. This winter we’re all going to work on Saturdays. Trouble is +that isn’t going to help us give our scoutmaster a _welcome home_. We’ve +done more crazy things this summer trying to get a little money +together! I guess it would have been better if we’d all knuckled down to +jobs. But I wanted these poor kids to get a taste of scouting. Too late +now, anyway. Why if I told you why we hiked up to Elm Center, you’d just +laugh in my face. You’d say we were crazy. But we’ve had a good time +anyway.” + +I said, “One thing sure, everything will come out all right and it’s +better to go on a hike and camping and all that in the summer than to be +working in the city. One of those fellows ahead of us is named Dorry +Benton and he’s kind of—not exactly poor, but—Anyway, he’s crazy to +get a motorcycle and he was going to stay home and work this summer, but +Mr. Ellsworth (he’s our scoutmaster) told him no, that it was better for +him to go up to Temple Camp. That big fellow with us isn’t our regular +scoutmaster. Anyway, Dorry is crazy to have a motorcycle and you can bet +he’ll have more fun with it if he has to wait for it, won’t he? Anyway, +I wish you’d tell me what you came up this way for. I won’t tell any of +the follows if you don’t want me to.” + +“Oh,” he said, “they might as well all have a good laugh. And I don’t +want you to think that I’m grouching about hard luck, either. We’ll land +right side up—scouts mostly do. The woods are free, thank goodness. All +that’s troubling us is that when Mr. Jennis went away he gave us a +spread and presented each one of us with a scout knife and we’d like to +return the compliment, that’s all. We’d like to show him how much we +think of him. I had a crazy notion we’d all go down to New York and meet +him and give him something or other when the transport arrives. Happy +dreams. I guess all we’ll give him is the scout salute. But we’ll come +out right side up yet, even if we have to sweep up the streets in +Newburgh. Principal trouble with us is that we’re a lot of dreamers; I +guess I’m the worst of the lot. Not much money in adventures. So now +we’re up against it. You don’t make money _scouting_, you make it +_working_.” + +I said, “I wish you’d please tell me why you came up this way, will +you?” + +“Sure I will,” he said; “it’s a joke—it’s a peach of a joke. Only I +tell you beforehand, we’re a band of wild adventurers. Here we are at +our luxurious camp. Pretty big tent, hey?” + +“I don’t see any tent,” I said. + +He said, “Don’t you see that big blue tent?” + +“Where?” I asked him. + +“With the little gold spots all over it?” + +“Oh, you mean the sky?” I said. + +“Some tent, hey?” he said. And then he began laughing. + +“There’s no man can make a tent like that,” I told him. + +“It’s only intended for rich scouts,” he laughed; “we don’t even bother +to take it with us when we go; we just leave it here. Oh, we’re a +reckless, extravagant bunch.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + BRENT’S STORY + + +The Church Mice didn’t even make up a full patrol, because there were +only five of them counting Brent Gaylong. Maybe the rest of them stayed +home. Only three of them had the uniform, and Brent didn’t have any. +They didn’t even have duffel bags or a camp kit and when I saw how it +was with them, I just had to admire that fellow who was keeping them +together. Especially I felt sorry for them, because our troop has about +everything and that’s mostly the way it is with all the troops that go +to Temple Camp. + +Anyway, we made up some pretty good late eats and after that we got a +good big fire started and all sat around it. Brent lay on his back near +the blaze and had his knees drawn up and was looking up at the sky. +That’s just the way he lay all the while he was telling us about his +patrol and why they came up that way. It seemed as if he thought it was +all just a big joke, but I could see he thought a good deal about +scouting and about those fellows. I had to laugh at him, but I liked him +a lot just the same. He was kind of happy-go-lucky, I could see that. +Harry Donnelle liked him, that was sure. I guess it was because he was +kind of happy-go-lucky, too. + +“Buried treasure is all right,” that’s what he said, “and so are missing +people, and people lost in the woods and all that; and liberal rewards +are very nifty. But if you’re after fifty or so buckarinos, the best +thing is driving a grocery wagon or selling the Saturday Evening Post on +street corners. You don’t get much adventure mowing people’s lawns, but +it’s sure money. The trouble with us is we’ve been speculating in +adventure and now we’re going to walk back home. Take a lesson from our +terrible example—and don’t read the newspapers.” + +Harry Donnelle said, “There’s seventy-five per cent profit in +adventures. I’d go to South Africa if I thought there was a ten cent +piece buried there.” That was just exactly like him. + +“Anyway,” I said, “I’d like to know why I shouldn’t read the +newspapers.” + +“Because they will lead you astray. They sent us off on a get-rich-quick +enterprise,” Brent said. + +Of course, I knew he was half joking, but that was always the funny way +he talked. He reached over and held a stick in the fire till the end of +it was all flaming, then he stuck it in the ground near his head and +pulled a clipping out of his pocket. He kept lying on his back all the +time and he looked so funny, I just had to laugh. + +Then he said, “Well, now, this is what brought us up into these woolly +wilds”, and he began to read the clipping. This is it, because he gave +it to me afterwards: + + BOY SCOUTS ASKED TO SEARCH FOR MISSING DOUGHBOY. + + Boy scouts in all sections of the country have been asked to + watch for Horace E. Chandler, late of the American Expeditionary + Forces in France, who has been missing since his discharge from + Camp Upton several weeks ago. + + Private Chandler was mustered out on August third, having served + with great courage and distinction in the Argonne Forest, where + he received honorable mention for unusual heroism in raiding + single handed an enemy machine gun nest. + + Private Chandler’s home is in Greendale near Plattsburg in New + York. He is reported to have been seen in Albany several days + after the date of his discharge, by several young men who had + known him formerly, but on being questioned they were not + certain of the identity of their former friend. + + His whereabouts are now a mystery and no reason can be ascribed + to his disappearance. + + It is thought that he may have been the victim of foul play + while on his journey home. + + A wealthy and public spirited citizen of Greendale, Mr. Horace + E. Wade, whose namesake Private Chandler was, has offered the + sum of one hundred dollars for any information leading to the + discovery of young Chandler’s whereabouts. + + Boy scouts have often succeeded in discovering missing persons. + Their large organization, covering as it does, the entire + country and their predilection for long tramps and journeys + afford them some of the best facilities for such quests. + + Mr. Wade has offered his reward after the futile efforts of the + police in many large cities to locate the returned soldier. + +“And here’s his picture to go by,” Gaylong said; “good looking chap, +huh? Here’s what it says underneath it, ‘_Private Horace E. Chandler +from a photo taken the week before he sailed for France._’” + +Nobody said anything for a minute and Dorry, who was nearest to Brent +Gaylong, leaned over and looked at the picture. “I’d like to read it +over in a better light,” he said. + +Brent said, “Take it; it’s no use to us. It gave us a good hike, that’s +all. We thought we might come back with the hundred. We had scout +uniforms and everything all bought—in our minds. We had a sumptuous +gold headed cane for Mr. Jennis. We had a meeting shack all furnished +up. Oh, we were regular prosperous scouts for a couple of days—in our +imaginations. I think I ought to have the badge for day dreaming, if +there is one. I think I could get a job in a dime novel. Up to Elm +Center and back again chasing a rainbow!” + +He was so funny about it that I didn’t know how disappointed he really +was. He was kind of funny and serious at the same time. But I could see +they were all disappointed. + +All of a sudden Harry Donnelle said, “What started you up to Elm Center +near Kingston, when our wandering warrior lived away up near +Plattsburg?” + +“Oh, yes,” Brent said; “I forgot the best part of it. Quite some time +after we read that accursed article, little Willie here and I happened +to drop in at a movie show in Newburgh—ten cents counting the war tax. +Cheap but filling. There was a picture in the Pathe jigamerig of an +aviator landing in the village of Elm Center near Kingston, New York. I +had never heard of Elm Center before. But anyway, an aviator had to come +down there and so Elm Center got on the screen. There were a lot of +people standing around looking at the machine and little Willie +wide-awake here, said to me, ‘Do you see that soldier in the film? The +one leaning against the fence and kind of glancing this way? He’s the +fellow whose picture was in the paper.’ I took a good squint at him and, +by jingoes, it was! It was Horace E. Chandler. ‘Caught at last,’ I +said.” + +“So here we are on our way home from Elm Center. It’s a pretty little +village—post office, two stables, a hardware store where you can buy +cake, and a watering trough. One of the nicest watering troughs I ever +saw. + +“And Horace E. Chandler? Oh, they never saw him or heard of him. Maybe +he went up in the airplane, huh? If I only had a Curtis biplane, I’d +search the skies.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + THE LIGHT IN THE WOODS + + +Gaylong just rested his leg on his other knee and clasped his hands in +back of his head and kept looking up at the sky. He said, “So that’s the +story of the adventurous Church Mice. The next time we go in for a +hundred dollars, we’re going to get jobs in grocery stores. Hey, kids?” + +I could see he thought an awful lot of those fellows. + +All the while Harry Donnelle was whistling to himself, as if he didn’t +care much. Pretty soon he said, “You had your fun; what more do you +want? What’s a hundred dollars?” + +“It’s a good deal to _us_,” Gaylong laughed. + +“You said something about treasure hunting,” Harry said; “you don’t +suppose anybody ever goes treasure hunting on account of the treasure, +do you? They go on account of the adventure. So treasure hunting is +_always_ a success; even if you only find a tin spoon. You had your +hike; you had your fun; you made a hundred per cent profit. That’s the +difference between a scout and a detective. It’s _going after_ something +that makes the fun; not _getting_ it.” + +Brent Gaylong said, “I get you.” + +“I’ve flopped around all over the world and I haven’t got a cent to show +for it,” Harry said, “and if anybody told me there was a lead pencil +buried up near the North Pole, I’d go after it. What fun is there buying +a lead pencil in a store? Poor old John D. Rockerfeller could do that +much.” + +“I get you,” Gaylong said. + +“Besides, didn’t you meet _us_?” Harry said. “We’re better than a +hundred dollars, I hope. Fun hasn’t cost a cent; it’s the only thing +that hasn’t gone up in price. Maybe the wandering warrior is having the +time of his life, too. And you’d go and spoil it all for him. Maybe he +doesn’t want to be found. Never thought of that, did you? What you +fellows need is not a hundred dollars. You need the scout idea. +Adventure!” + +“Righto,” Gaylong said. + +“But we’d like to have that hundred dollars,” the little fellow named +Willie piped up. + +“True again,” Gaylong said—awful funny. + + * * * * * + +Of course, I knew that was the way Harry would think about it, because’s +he’s one of that reckless, happy-go-lucky sort. I guess Brent Gaylong +was kind of the same way. Anyway, before we lay down to go to sleep, I +said to Gaylong: + +“Would you mind letting me have that article to read by our lantern +while you fellows are spreading the balsam?[1]” + +He said, “Sure,” and began feeling in his pockets. “Guess that other +fellow has it,” he said, sort of careless; “it’s no use anyway.” + +Pretty soon we were all fixed for the night. We made those Newburgh +scouts sleep under our balloon silk shelter. They didn’t want to, but we +told them we’d like to sleep in the open for a change. + +I guess I must have been asleep for an hour or so, when all of a sudden +I was awake again. Anyway, it couldn’t have been more than an hour, +because the wood from our fire was still warm. It was awful nice and +dark and quiet. There wasn’t any sound at all, except a cricket. Pretty +soon I could hear the whistle of a train very far away; I guess it was +way over at the Hudson. I just lay there kind of thinking and wondering +what made me wake up. Because, oh boy, I’m usually dead to the world +when I sleep outdoors. + +All of a sudden I saw a little light not very far away, in among the +trees. As soon as I saw it it went out, and then it came again. First I +thought it was a fire fly. Then I knew it couldn’t be—it was too big. +Then I saw it steady for about a minute and then it went out. + +I sat up and just stared at the spot where I had seen it and I didn’t +make a sound. I wasn’t exactly scared, but I wondered what it could be. +Then I crept away and started over that way in the dark. I wasn’t +scared, but I was kind of nervous, sort of. + +----- + +[1] Balsam is used for making beds. + + + + + CHAPTER XXV + + IN THE DARK + + +Just then I heard a rustle and I could see a black form quite near. I +saw it move behind a tree. + +“Who’s there?” I said; but there wasn’t any answer. + +I stopped for two or three seconds, because I didn’t know just what to +do, then I walked up to the tree and just as I came near, the form +stepped out from behind it. + +Then I heard a voice say, “What do _you_ want here?” + +I said, very surprised, “Dorry? Is it you?” + +He said, “What do _you_ want here?” + +“I don’t want anything,” I said; “I just saw a light and I came to see +what it was. What’s the matter?” + +He said, “Nothing, I’m going to bed.” + +“Did you have the light?” I asked him. “Maybe you only saw it same as I +did. Only you act awful funny, sort of.” + +He said, “I’ve got as much right to be up as you have. Nobody can sleep +on that hard ground.” + +“Why didn’t you dig a hollow for your hip?” I asked him, “same as I do. +Hard ground will never keep a fellow awake. It’s your hip. Gee, you’re a +scout; you ought to know that.” + +“Come on back,” he said. + +I don’t know, but something about the way he acted made me feel sort of +funny—suspicious, kind of. + +I said, “Were you hunting for something with your flashlight? What’s the +matter? Why don’t you tell me what you came out for?” + +“There isn’t any reason, and why should I tell you anyway?” he said. + +“Well,” I said, “because I’m your patrol leader for one thing. And as +long as Mr. Ellsworth isn’t here, I have a right to ask you. I’m not +mad. Only I wonder why you got up and came away, that’s all. Anyway, I +got a splinter in my finger grabbing one of these trees, I know that.” + +“You want to find out if I’ve got the flashlight?” he said. + +“No, I don’t want to find out if you’ve got your flashlight,” I said, +“because I know you have. I’m not that kind. First you have to say I +didn’t speak about the splinter for that reason,” I said; “you have to +take back what you said.” + +“I never said you were sneaky,” he said; “here, take it.” + +“It’s no crime to have a flashlight, I hope,” he said; “here take it.” + +“I wouldn’t try to find out that way,” I told him. + +“I know you wouldn’t,” he said. + +So then he held his flashlight to my finger and I said, “What do you +know about that? I’m carrying a lumber yard around with me. I _thought_ +I felt kind of heavy.” + +“Have you got a needle?” he asked. + +“A crowbar would be better,” I told him. + +“Hold still,” he said, and then he just pulled it out with his fingers. + +“That ought to be worth a couple of dollars, hey?” I said, “with the +high cost of timber.” + +So then we both laughed. Anyway, Dorry and I were always good friends, +you can bet. + +He was just going to turn off the flashlight, when I noticed that piece +of newspaper sticking out of his jacket pocket and I pulled it out, just +kind of half joking, and I said, “Here’s what I want. Gaylong said I +could read it.” + +Gee whiz, there wasn’t any harm in that. Oftentimes I’d do things like +that with fellows, and especially Dorry, because I’d known him so long. + +“You put that back,” he said, kind of mad. + +“What’s the use of getting mad?” I said. “You’re grouchy because you +can’t sleep. Here, let’s have your flashlight.” And I just grabbed that +out of his pocket, too. + +I guess he was going to grab them both away from me; anyway, it seemed +that way for a couple of seconds. + +Then he said, “Now you’ll go and spoil it all.” + +“Spoil what?” I asked him. + +“Go on, read it,” he said. + +“Sure I’ll read it,” I told him; “what’s all the excitement about?” + +“I hope you can keep your mouth shut,” he said. + +But, believe _me_, I didn’t read very much of it, because all I could +see was the picture. I held the flashlight on it and just stared and +stared and stared. + +Then I said, “Dorry!—You know—?” I was just flabbergasted and I could +hardly speak. + +“Sure I know,” he said; “it’s Jib Jab. I’m going to get my motorcycle +after all.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + DORRY AND I AND THE CRICKET + + +For a couple of minutes I could hardly speak, I was so surprised. The +picture in that article was the picture of _Jib Jab, is he human?_ I +knew by the wavy hair and the look he had, that made me not know whether +he was jollying me or not. He had that very same look in the picture. I +could almost hear him speak to me. And I just couldn’t take my eyes off +it. Even that funny kind of twinkle in his eye was there, just the same +as when he made Judge Dot mad. + +“You and I are the only ones that saw his real face; that’s one good +thing,” Dorry said; “It’s Jib Jab all right, hey?” + +“Yes, it’s Jib Jab,” I said, kind of half dreaming, I was so surprised. +“And that’s why you came out here; so as to read it and look at it all +alone. Dorry, if you got the hundred dollars and bought a motorcycle, +you’d fall off it and break your neck. You’d never get any fun out of a +motorcycle you bought that way.” + +“Give me the paper,” he said. + +“Here,” I said, “take it.” + +I guess neither of us spoke for about a minute. All the while I could +hear the cricket chirping, it was so quiet. + +“You heard what Harry told him about how they’d had their fun already,” +Dorry said; “you heard what he told them—about how they’d had their fun +already—didn’t you? Now it’s _our_ turn. If we can find him——” + +“Shut up,” I said. + +“You heard him,” he just kept up, “and you know it’s true. They had +their adventure. They had their hike—didn’t they?” + +All the while I could hear the cricket, just chirping, chirping, +chirping. It was awful dark and quiet. + +I said, “Dorry, don’t talk like that, because you know you don’t mean +it. If you meant it, you wouldn’t be a Silver Fox, you wouldn’t. And +it’s just the same as telling lies about Harry Donnelle. I dare you to +go and ask him about it; I _dare_ you to; and see what he says. Maybe +he’s reckless and crazy about adventures and doesn’t care anything about +having money, and maybe he’s kind of as you might say wild. Maybe he +flirts a lot with girls and likes to risk his life, maybe, but anyway, +he’s fair and square, and he never did a mean thing in all his life. Mr. +Ellsworth said so, and I guess he ought to know. If you think you’ve got +a right to do that, go and ask Harry Donnelle. I _dare_ you to. Go and +tell him you know where that soldier is and that you’re going to notify +his people up there near Plattsburg and claim the hundred dollars so you +can get your motorcycle. Just go and do that.” + +“Why should I do that?” he asked me. “What’s that noise?” + +“It’s a hawk,” I said; “he’s after little birds in their nests. Don’t +you remember how we wouldn’t name our patrol the Hawks, because they +sneak— You voted against it yourself—you did.” + +“I mean that other——” + +“It’s just a cricket,” I said. “I’m glad we’re out here all alone. I’m +glad it’s so quiet and dark. Maybe you can’t see in the dark, but you +can see what’s right or wrong better in the dark, because I’m not +mad—honest I’m not. You know what Tom Slade said about trails. Maybe +he’s dead now, over in France; but anyway, you know what he said about +trails.” + +“He wanted a motorcycle, too,” Dorry said. + +“Yes, but you know what he said about trails? How if you get thinking +about doing something that isn’t fair and square, it just means you’re +on the wrong trail. And you know yourself how hard it is to find the +right trail if you once get started on the wrong one? Maybe you don’t +think much about Tom Slade, these days, but I do. Often when nobody +knows it, I do.” + +“I don’t see anything wrong in it,” Dorry said; “we were the first to +see him.” + +“Then what makes you feel so mean about it?” I asked him. “What makes +you ask me about a little sound like a cricket? It’s because you’re kind +of rattled and you’re not sure, that’s why. Once a murderer went and +confessed after hearing a cricket all night. Maybe you don’t know that +it’s in a book how crickets start your conscience—maybe you don’t. +Listen!” + +He said, “You mean you’ll tell and you won’t help me?” + +“No, I won’t tell,” I said, “and I _will_ help you. I’ll help you to put +the Church Mice on their feet. I’ll help you to give that scoutmaster a +good welcome. I’ll help you to fix it so those poor little codgers all +have uniforms. I’ll help you to fix it so you can look Harry Donnelle in +the face—and Mr. Ellsworth, when you see him. And Tom Slade. And if +it’s a case of sneaking, I’ll help you with that too. We’ll make those +fellows think that _they_ discovered Jib Jab, otherwise satisfactory, +you can go and ask Harry Donnelle they’d never take the reward. And if +that isn’t if it’s all right for you to get the reward. And if he says +yes, I’ll say so too. I bet he has no use for motorcycles anyway.” + +Dorry didn’t say anything, only just stood there. + +“What do you say?” I asked him. + +He didn’t answer me. + +“What do you say—Dorry?” I asked him. + +“How does a cricket make that sound, anyway?” he asked. + +“I should worry about how he makes it,” I told him. + +He just said, “Funny, isn’t it?” + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII + + WE TAKE HARRY INTO OUR CONFIDENCE + + +One thing, I wouldn’t let anybody talk against Dorry Benton. Even I +wouldn’t have told you about that, only he said it was all right. I knew +all the time that he would never cheat those fellows out of their +reward. He didn’t say anything more that night, but in the morning he +came after me when I went to get sticks for the fire, and then I knew +everything was all right. + +He said, “You and I are the only ones that know who Jib Jab is. What are +we going to do about it? And another thing, would it be all right for +scouts to take a reward like that? Something for a service?” + +“Sure it would be all right,” I told him; “something for a service means +tips and things like that. Scouts can take presents and win rewards, I +hope. Didn’t Pee-wee win an extra helping of pie up at camp for keeping +still all through dinner? Mr. Ellsworth said it was all right.” + +Gee, Dorry couldn’t answer that argument. “You should worry about it’s +being all right,” I said; “but, oh boy, if we make a mistake we’ll spoil +everything. We have to watch our step. We’ve just got to make Brent +Gaylong discover that fellow without any help. If we don’t, _good +night!_ he’ll never claim the reward. I know that fellow.” + +“Maybe we’d better tell Harry Donnelle,” Dorry said. + +“That’s just what I was thinking,” I told him; “because maybe he can +think of a way.” + +So as soon as we could, we got Harry off in the woods alone. There +wasn’t much time, because we were all going to hit the trail for +Newburgh after breakfast. + +I said, “Harry, that freak fellow in the circus is the same fellow who’s +picture was in the paper; he’s Horace E. Chandler, I’m positive.” + +He said, “I told you if you ate too many of those flapjacks last night, +you’d be dreaming dreams.” + +“All right,” I told him, “you remember about Marshal Foch; how you said +he was a calf?” + +“Let’s have a squint at the picture,” Harry said; “these remarkable +discoveries of yours are getting to be a bad habit. A leopard is bad +enough, but a _what-is-it_!” + +So we showed him the picture and he screwed up his face and looked at it +awful funny. Then he read the article all through. + +“Well, so you think that’s Wandering Horace, do you?” he asked. + +I said, “Yes, because his hair is the same, and that funny kind of a +look in his eye and everything. You’ve got to admit Jib Jab is human. +He’s a nice fellow, too. I bet he’d want to see these fellows get the +reward.” + +Harry said, “Yes, I don’t exactly hold it against him that he’s human; +he couldn’t help it I suppose. I’m kind of human myself. But just +suppose, for the fun of it, that you’re right——” + +“There’s no fun about it,” I told him; “Dorry and I both saw him.” + +“All right,” he said; “and you want to sacrifice him to the Church Mice. +You want to put them on his trail. How do _we_ know he wants to be +discovered?” + +“It’s a good turn,” Dorry said. + +Harry said, “Well, I’m not a scout and I don’t deal much in good +turns——” + +I said, “I bet you did hundreds of them.” And I bet he did, too. + +He just said, “But who is the good turn going to hit? What is it you +want to do?” + +Dorry said, “We want these fellows to find out who Jib Jab is; we want +to start things going so they can find out of their own accord, before +it’s too late.” + +“Yes, and how about poor Jib Jab?” Harry said. “If you harm one person +to help another, do you call that a good turn? How do we know why he’s +traveling with that circus and living in an animal’s skin? Seems to me +we’ve got to consider _him_ when we act.” + +Gee, by that I saw that there’s a lot more to good turns than some +fellows think. + +“But anyway,” I said, “Harry, that fellow is reckless just like you. Do +you mean to tell me his mother and father haven’t got a right to know +where he is? Just because _you_ went all over the world doesn’t say——” + +“Well, there isn’t any mention of his mother and father here,” he said; +“only Mr. Horace E. Wade, up there in Greendale, or whatever they call +it.” + +For a couple of minutes, Dorry and I didn’t say anything, and Harry just +sat there on a log whittling a stick. + +Then he said, “Let’s see that picture again.” + +Dorry handed it to him and he looked at it in that funny, squinty way, +same as before, then handed it back. + +“Then can’t we do anything about it?” I asked him. + +“How about getting the reward ourselves?” he asked me. + +“What do we want it for?” I said. “We’re having plenty of fun. We don’t +need anything.” + +He just went on whittling and looked up kind of funny like, at Dorry. + +“How about you?” he asked. “You saw the picture first, and recognized +him. Come in handy, that hundred, I dare say?” + +Dorry just said, “Nix.” + +“Bully for you,” Harry said, and he gave him a push in the chest. Didn’t +I tell you I knew how he’d feel about it? + +“Well, then,” he said, “since you are the only ones who would have any +claims, we’ll have to see what kind of a scout the Honorable Mr. Jib Jab +is. I kind of like that fellow’s face——” + +“Don’t you go and ask him to go off to South Africa with you,” I said. +Because I knew Harry Donnelle, all right. + +“We’ll just have to see if he’s game for a little conspiracy. I kind of +think from that twinkle in his eye, that he will be. We’ll just have to +lay the whole thing before him. We’ll tell him about Gaylong and the +poor Church Mice and if he’s human——” + +“Sure he’s human!” I said. “Doesn’t he smoke cigarettes and jolly the +freaks, and wink at us and all that? _Sure_ he’s human—he’s _especially +human_!” + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII + + IN THE WOODS + + +So you see it’s best to always think twice before you do a good turn. +Don’t be in too much of a hurry about it. Because a good turn might go +wild and cause a lot of trouble. You’ve got to take a good aim. + +As long as Jib Jab had told us we’d always be welcome, Harry said, it +would be best for him and Dorry and I to wait till the show was over +that night and then go in and make a call on him. So he told the fellows +that we’d hang around in the woods for one more day and hike it for +Newburgh in the morning. He said that would give us a chance to get some +provisions in Kingston and to stalk in the mountains. They all liked the +idea, only Brent Gaylong said his fellows didn’t have many eats and they +didn’t want to be sponging on us. + +Harry said, “We’re all one family and I’m sick of this Silver Fox +outfit, anyway. It’ll help to vary the monotony.” That was always the +way he talked. + +In the afternoon I took a walk through the woods with Brent Gaylong and +the little fellow he called Willie Wide-awake. He was a nice little +fellow. He found a four-leaf clover and he said, “Maybe that will change +our luck.” + +I said, “Maybe; you never can tell.” And, oh boy, didn’t I just laugh +to myself. _You wait_, that’s what I said to myself. + +Gaylong said, “The trouble with us fellows is that we started our great +and glorious troop during the war. Everybody was organizing +troops—France, Germany, Uncle Sam, Italy—and we got lost in the +shuffle. Too much competition. We’ll land rightside up yet. But when I +look over that scout magazine and see all the ads of things scouts want, +it sort of makes me discouraged. Knives, cameras, bicycles, canoes, +magic lanterns, toy steam engines, tin railroads, fancy memorandum +books, electric motors! I suppose I’m behind the times, but just about +all we want is a little place to meet in, and our scoutmaster back again +and the price of a welcome for him, that’s all. That, and the woods.” + +“You said it,” I told him. “You should worry about all those ads; they +have nothing to do with scouting. All they’ve got to do with scouting is +that they’re good to kindle a camp-fire with. Scouting doesn’t cost +anything when you once get started.” + +“It would cost about ten dollars a minute if some people had their way,” +he said. + +“Sure,” I said, “they’d have you looking like Santa Claus. You should +worry.” + +“But I ought not to kick,” he said; “because I’m to blame for this wild +goose chase. You see I wanted to get the kids out of doors. I wanted to +get their minds off patent sleds and go-carts, and goodness knows what +all. I was brought up in the country and I wanted them to have a taste +of adventure—the kind of stuff that isn’t advertised, you know.” + +I said, “You bet I know; and I have to admit you’re right, too.” + +“Of course, there wasn’t any chance of finding that fellow, Chandler,” +he said; “but what’s the difference? We had about seven dollars, and the +kids wanted to buy one of those moving picture machines, ‘_Boy Scouts, +Attention! Here is just what you want!_’ You know. So I just took the +seven plunks and brought them up this way on a hike. Something they +_really did_ want. I thought maybe there was one chance in twenty of +finding that Chandler, but I didn’t say so. I let them think the chance +was fair. Anyway, we had a hike. We were out for adventure. They forgot +about the cornets and the clock-work gew-gaws that they really _didn’t +want_. We’ve been scouting. We’re broke, but we’ve been scouting. We +hiked up to a remote village after a missing person. Romance! Adventure! +We’ve been _scouting_. Hurrah, and a couple of bravos! That fellow +Donnelle has the right idea; and he’s a brick.” + +“Believe _me_, that’s the biggest compliment you ever paid a brick,” I +said. + +“So here we are,” he said; “cleaned out and happy, and living on our +scout brothers. That’s the idea, isn’t it? Brothers? Poor relations, +hey? But we’re real, honest-to-goodness, scouts. None genuine unless +labeled _Church Mice_. Boy Scouts, Attention! Here is something you +_really_ want. Hiking! Adventure! Some day or other we’ll stumble into +fifty or a hundred dollars, but by the Big Dipper we’ll get it +_scouting_. That fellow Donnelle has the right idea; he’s a peach.” + +“Believe _me_, he’s a whole orchard,” I said + +Then neither of us said anything for about a minute, only we kept +wandering along through the woods and we stopped and watched a chipmunk +in a tree and kept good and still so he wouldn’t be scared. And Brent +Gaylong picked up a locust, awful careful, and held it in his two +fingers and showed Willie Wide-awake how its wings went and how it was +different from a bird. And Willie Wide-awake held it in one hand, +because he had the four-leaf clover in the other hand. It was nice in +the woods. I found a red lizard, too; the kind that come out after it +rains. I guess he made a mistake, hey? There are lots of them up that +way. + +I said, “You just keep that four-leaf clover and it’ll bring you luck. +If you can stand a pine cone on your thumb and hold it that way till you +count ten, then you can make a wish and it’ll come true.” + +So Willie Wide-awake balanced a pine cone like that and counted ten and +then he said, “I wish we’d get a hundred dollars and I wish Mr. Jennis +would hurry up and come back.” + +And then I batted the pine cone away with a birch stick, so as to make +the wish come true. You’ve got to be sure the stick is made of birch. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX + + JIB JAB AND HARRY + + +Anyway, the day passed soon enough, even if we didn’t have much to do, +and after supper, Harry said very innocent sort of, “Roy, suppose you +and Dorry hike into Kingston with me and carry home some stuff. The rest +of you start a fire.” + +Little Willie Wide-awake piped up, “I’ll go with you.” But Harry just +ruffled up his hair, the same as he was always doing with me and said, +“You just sit here and watch the fire. See what you can find in the +fire. The other night we were seeing all sorts of things in the +fire—pictures and things. You can find all kinds of pictures in fires, +can’t you, Brent?” + +Brent Gaylong said, “That’s the idea.” + +So then Harry gave the little fellow a kind of a push so he went +sprawling right down all over the other fellows. Gee, I bet those kids +liked him. I don’t know, but he had a way about him that everybody +liked. After we started I told him he ought to be a scoutmaster, and he +said he would only he had a date in Labrador. He said he had a date to +go hunting seals. Another time he told us he had a date to kill a man in +Australia. He had a lot of dates. + +On the way to Kingston he said to us, “Did you give that newspaper +article back to Gaylong?” And I told him, “Yes.” + +“All right,” he said; “we don’t want that in our possession. We have +nothing to do with this business; see?” + +Dorry said, “Sure, we understand.” + +Then Harry said, “Now I don’t want you kids to be disappointed if this +wild man of Borneo turns out not to be wandering Horace at all; see?” + +“I can’t be mistaken,” I told him. + +He said, “Well, Columbus was mistaken when he thought he’d reached +India, and he was smarter than you.” + +“Gee whiz,” I said, “I don’t deny he was smarter than I am. But anyway, +I know we’re not mistaken.” + +“All right,” he said; “but I want you to let me do the talking. All I +know about this savage beast is the twinkle in his eye. Twinkles are +good things; you can usually bank on a twinkle. But you kids leave it to +me; understand?” + +I said, “It’ll be so still you’ll be able to hear the silence.” + +“Because this is a pretty delicate business,” Harry said. “Even if Jib +comes across all right, there’s still Gaylong. Our fingers mustn’t be +seen in this pie. We’re going to try to make something _happen_, that’s +all. If he knows that we had anything to do with it, he wouldn’t _touch_ +the reward. Gaylong is as white as a snowstorm.” + +I said, “Take it from me a snowstorm is dark brown compared to him. I +know that fellow.” + +“Well, if we can just handle this wild _what-is-it_, we’ll put one over +on Gaylong all right,” Harry said. “We’ll buy that cane for +what’s-his-name and we’ll build that scout meeting-place. I’m getting +kind of interested myself now. I haven’t been so worked up since I sold +a phonograph to a king over there in the Cannibal Islands. As soon as he +heard it talk, he wanted to eat it. Come on, get a hustle.” + +When we got to Costello’s Mammoth Show, the people were crowding out. +Harry went up to the wagon where they sold tickets and said, “Hello, Mr. +Costello, how’s business?” + +“Marvellous, magnificent!” he said in that big voice of his. “The town +is spellbound by our sumptuous show. How are the young scouts?” + +Harry told him we were all well, and asked him if I might go in and say +good-bye to my friends. + +“They will be proud to receive the young hero and his companions,” he +said. And he waved his whip toward the door of the small tent. I kind of +liked that man. You can like a person, even if he’s a kind of a faker. + +In the side show tent, Lemuel Long was playing checkers with Judge Dot. +Over in the corner, Jib Jab sat with his feet up on one of the +platforms, smoking a cigarette. He had his bathrobe on and his face was +all clean. I guess he was tired after pulling at that chain all day. He +turned his head and said, “Hello, Scouty, glad to see you.” + +I said, “Jib Jab, this is the fellow who’s looking after us on our hike; +it’s Mr. Donnelle. I thought I’d come and see you before we go away and +I brought him, too. He wouldn’t tell anybody about you being human.” + +Harry Donnelle put out his hand in that nice off-hand way he had, to +shake hands with him, and Jib Jab started to reach out too. Then, all of +a sudden he stood up and raised his arm and saluted. + +“How are you, Lieutenant?” he said; “I see you’re mustered out, but I +salute you just the same, because you saved my life in France. I know +you even if you don’t know me, Lieutenant.” + +Just then Dorry whispered in my ear, “Did you notice his hand when he +saluted. There’s a cameo ring on it. Look close and see if that’s +Abraham Lincoln’s head carved on it. It’s awful old and clumsy looking.” + +Just then Jib Jab took my hand and I had a good look at that ring. Oh +boy, you can bet I was excited. And you can bet a scout knows Abraham +Lincoln’s head when he sees it. But even if I was flabbergasted, I could +seem to just hear those words, “_saved my life_.” + +I bet that fellow Harry Donnelle had hundreds and hundreds of adventures +that he never told _us_ about. I guess he didn’t even notice the ring. +That’s one thing about a scout, he’s observant. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX + + JIB JAB IS SURPRISED + + +Just then Mr. Lemuel Long and Judge Dot got up to go to bed and Jib Jab +called, “So long, Shorty! So short, Longy!” + +While he was laughing at them, I whispered to Harry, “Notice the ring on +his finger.” I guess Harry noticed it all right, only he didn’t say +anything. + +He just said, “Your face seems familiar to me; you were in my regiment, +eh?” + +“I was one of those in the machine gun nest,” Jib Jab said; “don’t you +remember the four privates you saved?” + +Harry said, “Oh, you were one of those fellows, eh? Glad to see that you +got back to the States all right. I came to see you, but I didn’t know +who you were; that is, I didn’t know you had been in France. You’re +Horace E. Chandler, I think, aren’t you? I’m glad to see that you’re +human; there seems to be some question. Will you have a cigarette?” + +Gee, it was awful funny to watch the two of them. Jib Jab just stared at +him while Harry lifted himself up on the edge of the exhibition platform +and lighted a cigarette, kind of off-hand and friendly like. + +“How’s the savage beast business?” he asked him. + +“What makes you thing I’m Chandler?” Jib Jab said. + +Harry said, “Oh, I’ve suspected you were Chandler ever since these boys +saw your picture in the paper, but of course, I didn’t know you had been +mixed up in the big scrap with me. Funny how things come about, huh?” + +“Well, I suppose I’ll have to admit it,” Jib Jab said; “I hope you’re +not going to shout it out loud.” + +“No, I just want your assistance. I think you’re a good sport. Far be it +from me to criticise you for being a _what-is-it_. I’d like to be one +myself. Must be kind of nice flopping around the country with a lot of +freaks. How much does that skinny fellow weigh, anyhow? He looks like a +ramrod. Little fellow’s kind of pesky, isn’t he?” + +The two of them just sat there smoking cigarettes. Harry was dangling +his legs from the platform and Jib Jab had his feet resting on it and +his chair tilted back. It was awful funny to see them. For a couple of +minutes neither of them said anything, only Harry kept looking around at +the platforms where the freaks usually were. + +Pretty soon he just blurted out, “How’d you happen to hit this job, +Chandler?” + +Jib Jab said, “Oh, I don’t know; it’s a long story. It’s a pretty good +job when you want to lie low.” + +“Lie low, huh? Why, what’s the matter?” Harry asked. + +Cracky, I never saw Jib Jab so serious before. He said, “Oh, I was just +one of the heroes that didn’t get a job, that’s all. I’m a +happy-go-lucky.” + +“Same here,” Harry said, and he just kept looking at him, awful sharp +and searching, kind of. + +“I came back from France broke.” + +“Same here,” Harry said. + +“And I just thought I’d try to pull together a bit before I hit the +trail for home,” Jib Jab went on. “I had a little over two hundred +dollars to bring home to my old dad, but they relieved me of it in a +sailors’ dance hall over in Brest.” + +“Live up near Plattsburg, eh?” + +“Yop, and I started home as soon as I was mustered out, but didn’t make +it. Just couldn’t face the old folks—busted. I tried to get a job in +Albany, in Poughkeepsie; nothing doing. Worked for a couple of days for +a farmer over here in Elm Center, then hit the circus. Circus is a great +place when you’re down and out. Ever work in a circus?” + +“I kinder think I’d like to,” Harry said; “I’ve done most everything +else.” + +“So here I am among the missing till I can save as much as I promised to +bring home. I sent the old gent a letter saying I had two hundred bucks. +I don’t know who’s got that two hundred, but I know one thing; I’m not +going up to Greendale till I have that much. I’m not human till then.” + +“Old gent write you a letter?” Harry asked, kind of careless. + +“Yop, and warned me. Didn’t do much good.” For about a minute Harry just +sat there smoking and Jib Jab did the same thing. Neither one of them +spoke. Harry was whistling _Over There_. Then he reached down into his +pocket and threw a roll of bills into Jib Jab’s lap. + +“Here’s your two hundred, Jib,” he said; “and here’s part of the letter. +Let’s have a squint at that ring, will you?” + +Gee whiz, I guess you could have knocked Jib Jab down with a feather. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI + + JIB JAB’S STORY + + +Then Harry told him all about his adventure out on the ocean and how he +found the dead man in the boat, and the money. + +“Funny thing, too,” he said; “but we were trying to dope out the meaning +of that letter, all sitting around the camp-fire. We even thought we +could see the old gent. Old veteran, isn’t he? Huh, that’s just what we +thought. Blamed funny thing, a camp-fire.” + +Jib Jab didn’t say anything, only just looked straight ahead of him. +Harry just kept smoking and swinging his legs. + +“Guess we hit it about right, hey?” he said. + +Jib Jab just kept looking straight ahead of him. + +“Pretty near,” he said. He sounded kind of strange. Even still he didn’t +put the money in his pocket, or the water-soaked letter either, but they +just stayed where Harry threw them, on the bathrobe. + +“Pretty tough, being broke,” Harry said. + +“Bet the old gent’ll be proud to see you. Under Grant, I suppose?” + +“Sherman,” Jib Jab said, very quiet. + +Then neither of them spoke for about a couple of minutes, only Harry +asked him for a light. + +“Ever get mixed up with the boy scouts, Jib?” Harry asked him. + +Jib Jab just shook his head. + +“Well, listen here,” Harry said; “and here’s the test of whether you’re +really human.” + +“I guess I’m pretty human,” Jib Jab said, very low. + +Then Harry said, “We ran into a party of scouts, Jib, who went up to Elm +Center to see if a fellow they saw in a moving picture was you. I guess +it was all right. They had an idea of winning that reward; you know +about the offer, of course?” + +“Yes, I knew,” Jib Jab said. + +“How about this old gent you’re named after? Friend of your father’s? I +thought as much. Pretty rich, I suppose? Good. Now, Jib, you and I know +what it is to go broke. I’ve gone broke forty-eleven times. And we’re +both keen for adventure; that’s our trouble, I guess. There’s a fellow +over where we’re camping, a young fellow, with a bunch of little +tenderfoot scouts. They came up to hunt for you and to get that reward. +They’re broke. They need some mazuma to start in with. They need a +hundred. Do they get it?” + +Jib Jab said, “What do you mean?” + +“Well, first you’re willing to go home?” + +“Do you have to ask me that?” + +“All right then,” Harry said; “here’s the plan of campaign and General +Pershing himself couldn’t plan it better. You’re going home, that’s +settled. Prodigal son, and all that stuff. But first you’ve got to be +discovered. Give us another light, will you? I put it to you from man to +man, or from tramp to _what-is-it_, _you can’t go home without being +discovered_. You’ve got to come over our way and get yourself +discovered. These scouts need a shack to meet in and a lot of stuff. +They want to give their scoutmaster a welcome home. He was in the scrap +same as you and I. It all hangs on that hundred dollars, Jib. I’m sorry, +but you’ll have to be the goat. That young fellow Gaylong is a double +barrel scout and he’s trying to pull through with that outfit of kids. +He wouldn’t take a cent as an ordinary present. I’ve got his number. Of +course, if you’ve got the instinct of a baboon that doesn’t mean +anything to you. But all over the fences in this happy berg, Costello is +wanting to know if you’re human. You can’t show you’re human just by +taking off that bear skin and washing your face. I want to know if +you’re _human_ or not.” + +“Run out and ask Costello for a couple of marvellous, matchless matches, +will you, Roy?” + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII + + JIB JAB TURNS OUT TO BE HUMAN + + +So that’s all I can tell you about their talk, because when I went back +Harry was waiting for us near the entrance. All I can tell you is what +happened. On the way back through the woods Harry wouldn’t talk at all, +only he said that the scouts were a blamed nuisance and he guessed he’d +go and work in a circus. Gee whiz, I hope he doesn’t. But, oh boy, he’d +make a dandy _what-is-it_. + +When we got to camp there was a peachy big fire and they were all +sitting around it. Brent Gaylong was lying on his back, same way as he +always did, with his knees up. + +“Move up and give us a chance here,” Harry said; “we’re tired.” And he +squeezed right in between little Willie Wide-awake and another one of +those kids. “Regular sewing circle, huh?” he said. “Well, Bill old top, +what did you see in the blaze?” + +“He’s been seein’ things,” Brent said, kind of laughing. + +“Get out—_no_,” Harry said. + +“I saw a transport,” Willie Wide-awake said; “that long log looked like +a transport. Then it crackled and I didn’t see it any more.” + +Harry said, “Torpedoed, I guess. Didn’t see anything of that scoutmaster +of yours, did you?” + +“I looked, but I didn’t see him,” Willie said. + +“Down in the cabin eating his dinner, probably,” Harry said. “Chuck on a +couple more logs, Westy old boy.” + +“He saw a meeting-shack, too,” Gaylong said. + +“It was just like real,” the kid piped up. + +“That point on the blaze made the roof. You can see things better if you +half shut your eyes.” + +“That’s the idea,” Harry said; “you’ve got to get kind of dreamy. You’re +getting the hang of it all right. Over in France one night I saw the +house I live in at home. There was a new chicken coop. Once I saw Teddy +Roosevelt.” + +“One good thing,” Brent said in that funny way he had; “the things you +see in the fire don’t cost anything.” + +Harry said, “Yes, but they’re going up like everything else. They go up +in smoke.” + +“Like everything else,” Gaylong said. + +“There you go,” Harry said; “Hard Luck Gaylong, the boy grouch. How do +you know when you may strike luck. Look at Charlie Collins over there on +the west front; ran plunk into his own brother while he was on sentry +duty; brother said, ‘H’lo Charlie’—just like that. Neither one knew the +other was in France. You’ve been looking at maps and things and you +believe everything the geography tells you. I’ve been all around this +world and you can take it from me, it’s about the size of a cocoanut. +Look how Stanley met Livingstone in South Africa. You take a tip from me +and keep that newspaper picture.” + +Brent said, “I’d paste it in a scrapbook only we haven’t got a +scrapbook.” + +“We haven’t got any paste either,” Willie shouted. + +“Poor, but honest,” Gaylong said. + +Then Harry put his arm around little Willie Wide-awake’s shoulder, awful +nice and friendly like, and he said, “Don’t you mind him, Bill old boy. +Let him grouch. Now let’s you and I see what we can find there.” + +Gee, he was awful nice and it made me like him a lot. Because, anyway, +it showed that even if he was kind of wild and reckless, he could be +nice to a little fellow like that. I wish he’d be a scoutmaster, but I +don’t believe he ever will. He’s got too many dates. We all looked into +the fire and listened when he began. + +He said, “I can see old Grouch Gaylong, there, with a fine scout uniform +and one of those big long sticks and about ’steen hundred badges; badges +for being sarcastic, badges for lying on his back and sticking his feet +up in the air, Calamity Jane badges—all kinds. I can see you head of +the Church Mice patrol, only the Church Mice have struck it rich. They +won’t speak to the Silver Foxes any more. See that long, thin flame? +That’s one of their tails.” + +“I can see the American flag,” Willie Wide-awake said. + +“Sure, Old Glory;—right underneath it is a little kind of a bungalow +all fixed up, and a canoe right near it. See the canoe? And I can see a +face—yes sir, I can see a face. Mr. Jennis, is it? See, right through +the middle of the flame? That’s Mr. Jennis, all right. And——” + +“I can see it!” Willie Wide-awake shouted. + +“Sure you can,” Harry said, “plain as day——” + +“_Look! Look!_” the little fellow shouted, and he clutched Harry by the +arm, all excited. “_I see it! It’s real! Look!_” + +I was looking, too, and I saw it and then I knew. And I wanted, I just +wanted to go over and clutch Harry Donnelle by the arm, just like that +kid was doing. I could see Brent Gaylong roll over and look, kind of +curious, through the blaze. And all the fellows seemed to start, all +except Dorry and I. But I didn’t budge, only sat there watching Brent +Gaylong. His face looked kind of strange. Then he stood up. And the +other face behind the blaze rose up, too. And Jib Jab was standing there +and the fire was shining on his face. And even I could see the twinkle +in his eye. + +Then I heard Harry Donnelle speak and his voice sounded queer, because +it was so still around there. And there wasn’t any sound except the fire +crackling. + +He said, “Who are you? What do you want here?” + +“Just a stranger after food and shelter,” I heard; “I’ve been wandering +in the woods. I am a discharged soldier and I’m in hard luck.” + +But I didn’t notice him, because I was looking at Brent Gaylong. He was +standing up straight and looking steady, right across the fire, into +that face. And he didn’t take his eyes off it; just stared. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII + + WE PART COMPANY + + +Oh, it was great to watch Harry—the way he acted. He just said, “A +soldier, eh? Sit down, we were just going to have a bite to eat. I was +in the big scrap, myself.” That’s what he always called it—the big +scrap. He didn’t pay any attention to Brent Gaylong, and Brent just +stood there staring. + +Pretty soon Brent said, “Your name isn’t Chandler, is it?” + +“Maybe, and maybe not,” Jib Jab said. “Who are you?” + +He didn’t admit he was Chandler right away and Harry Donnelle said, kind +of careless sort of, “If you’re the missing Chandler you might as well +so say. We’re all tramps and wanderers here. All broke, too.” + +So pretty Soon _Jib Jab, is he human?_ admitted that he was Horace E. +Chandler, and Harry Donnelle said it was mighty lucky we had decided to +stay over night in that neighborhood. He said he had always thought that +the world was about as big as a cocoanut, but now he knew it was the +size of a green pea. He said the trouble with it was there wasn’t enough +elbow room, and scouts couldn’t get away into the woods and be alone, +because on account of the crowds—crowds of missing people. Oh, he was +great and, believe me, we liked that fellow. + +None of those Church Mice even knew that Horace E. Chandler was Jib Jab +who was in the circus. On the quiet, Jib told us that Mr. Costello +didn’t mind his leaving like that, because _what-is-its_ were easy to +get, on account of so many of them being out of work—I mean people. But +Jib said, Mr. Costello told him he was the best _what-is-it_ he ever +had, and he would give him a good recommendation, if he wanted it. + +So that’s the end of _Jib Jab is he human?_ And, gee, you’ll have to +admit he was human, all right. He said he wouldn’t go home to Greendale +unless the Church Mice went with him and stayed for a few days on his +father’s farm. Harry Donnelle stood up for him and said that was right. +I bet he knew about it all the time. He said that he wouldn’t trust +Chandler to go home alone. + +“Now you’ve got him, hang onto him,” that’s what he said to Brent. +“Safety first, don’t take any chances. Go up there and get your hundred. +These discharged soldiers are a bad lot. See what kind of a farm he +lives on, and if it’s any good we’ll hike up there next summer and strip +the apple trees. Got any good russets up there, Horace?” + +So that’s the way they fixed it, and the next morning Horace Chandler +and the Church Mice started off on their journey to Greendale. Brent +Gaylong said he was going to ’phone home from Kingston, so that their +people would know. Anyway, I guess their mothers and fathers wouldn’t +worry much, because Brent was the kind of a fellow they could trust, +that was one sure thing. + +Harry told Horace Chandler to start off with them just as if they were +going to hike all the way, and then when they got good and tired, to buy +tickets on the railroad. Do you know what I think? I think Harry had +some money and that he gave it to Horace so he could do that. That’s +what I kind of think. It would be just like him anyway. + +One thing, you’re going to meet all those fellows again, but not in this +story. Because after a while we went up to that farm in Greendale and +camped there, and met old Major Chandler and Mr. Wade and Horace, and +had a lot of fun, you can bet. It’s a whole story all by itself. They +have dandy russet apples up there, and, oh boy, can’t Horace’s sister +Betty make apple dumplings. I ate four one night. Hunt Manners ate six, +but anyway he started before I did. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV + + A GOOD IDEA + + +That same day we hiked out through Woodstock. Harry Donnelle said we had +to be careful, because the woods were infested with poets and authors +and artists, but I should worry, who’s afraid of a poet? We saw a lot of +them and they wore funny big neckties and long hair. But anyway, Harry +said they were harmless. They live in little shacks. + +We went around the Ashokan Reservoir and then along the road down +through Atwood and Stone Ridge till we got to the Wallkill River, and +that night we camped near New Paltz. There’s a great big abnormal school +there, or a normal school, or whatever you call it. I should worry. +Anyway, there’s one thing I like about school, and that’s vacation. + +The next day we followed the Wallkill River and caught some perch and +cooked them for supper, and that night, around the fire, we made Harry +tell us how he saved four privates on the West Front. The next morning +we started off again and passed a place named Great Bluff. It was a +great bluff all right, because it was so small you could send it by +Parcels Post. + +Pretty soon we came to a place named Tanner’s Crossroads. I couldn’t see +anything so cross about them. But anyway Mr. Tanner was cross enough to +make up. He wouldn’t let us take a short cut across his land. What cared +we? + +I don’t know how big the village was, because I didn’t have a ruler with +me. I guess somebody must have dropped the village there and never +noticed it. That night we slept just inside of a village named _Slow_. +Anyway, that’s what it said on a sign alongside the road. Harry said it +meant for autos to go slow. I made flapjacks that night. + +In two days we came in sight of the Hudson. I knew it would be there. Oh +boy, but we climbed some hills. Pretty soon we could see Haverstraw, but +we didn’t go near it. We camped in a dandy place outside the town. And +that’s the place where we had our big adventure. Maybe you’ll remember +how I said our hike got tied in a knot in one place. Well, that was the +place. + +So now I’m going to tell you about that adventure. It has girls in it +and everything. And it shows you how boy scouts can be heroes. It has +two heroines, so maybe if you don’t like one, you’ll like the other. +One’s an emergency heroine, that’s what Harry said. + +Now maybe if you’ve read all about our adventures up at Temple Camp, +you’ll remember that my sister Marjorie was going to have a birthday +party. I told Mr. Ellsworth that I would like to go home for that party +and go back to Temple Camp the next day. Maybe you will remember about +it, on account of my saying that she was going to have cocoanut frosted +cake. + +Now on that night that we were camping near Haverstraw, I happened to +think about it being my sister’s birthday. I just happened to think of +it while we were sitting around our camp-fire. + +I said, “This is my sister’s birthday and she’s going to have a party +and cocoanut frosted cake and things, and I’d like to be there. I wish I +had thought about it yesterday—I’d have sent her a postcard.” Because, +one thing, I never forgot about my sister’s birthdays. + +Harry said, “Why don’t you call her up?” + +“Sure,” Westy said, “they’ll just about be having the eats now.” + +I said, “What good will that do me?” + +“Anyway, where’s the telephone?” Dorry said. + +“I bet there’s a booth over in that little station,” Harry said; “why +don’t you go over and see? It would be a big surprise, hey?” + +I said, “You bet it would. Come on over and we’ll see if there’s one +there, Westy.” The station that Harry spoke about was a little dinky +station that we had passed about a half of a mile back. When we passed +it, Harry said he guessed maybe it was the West Haverstraw Station. It +was all dark even then. But anyway, Westy and I decided we would go back +to it and see if it was open and if there was a ’phone booth there. + +“Let’s wait till half-past nine before we start,” I said; “and then +we’ll call up at exactly ten o’clock, because that’s the time they’ll +all be going in for the eats and they’ll be giving the presents then, +too. It’ll kind of seem as if I were there just at the right minute.” + +So at half-past nine, Westy and I started down the road. + +“Give her our best wishes,” Harry called after us. + +It was awful dark and we could hardly see our way going along the road. +A couple of times I went stumbling into the ditch. But, anyway, all the +while I kept thinking about Marjorie and how it would look at home with +all those people there and lots of presents and things. + +“I’m mighty glad Harry thought about that,” I said. + +Westy said, “Jiminies, it will be great. Just when they’re all sitting +down around the table, all of a sudden the ’phone will ring——” + +“Yop,” I said, “and Marjorie will answer it, because she always answers +the ’phone, on account of Charlie Wentworth all the time calling her up. +He’s in Philadelphia. That’s what makes the ’phone service so bad, +because he keeps all the operators busy. Believe me, they ought to have +a private wire. Anyway, that’s what my father says.” + +“I bet you won’t be able to get her,” Westy said. + +“There you go,” I told him; “Calamity Jane!” + +“To call her up, you’ll have to call Central down,” he said. + +“I should worry,” I told him. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV + + WHAT I HEARD ON THE TELEPHONE + + +That station stood all by itself, and it was pitch dark all around. It +reminded me of the Grand Central Station, it was so different. First we +tried the door and it was locked. Then we tried one of the windows and +it opened. + +I said, “Do you think it would be all right to climb in?” + +“Sure it would,” Westy said; “because the window doesn’t open into the +ticket agent’s room, only into the waiting room. Go ahead.” + +I didn’t see any harm in climbing in, because the window was part open +and there was a sign outside that said “Public Telephone.” + +“Anyway,” Westy said; “if anybody should come and find us here, we could +say we just wanted to ’phone. And we could prove that’s all we wanted, +too, by our really getting the number.” + +First I didn’t know what we ought to do, but as long as we didn’t have +to break anything open, and as long as all we wanted was to ’phone, I +decided it would be all right. + +So we climbed in and I saw there was a booth in the corner. I dropped a +nickel into the ’phone and held the receiver to my ear and waited and +waited and waited and waited. Gee, I waited about as long as three whole +chapters would be. + +Then I heard a girl’s voice. It said, “Hello, hello.” + +I said, “I want three, two, one, Bridgeboro, New Jersey, and please +hurry up, because my sister’s having a party.” + +I guess the wire was crossed, the girl was awful excited, and every time +I said hello, she’d say, “Hello, hello, is this you, father?” + +I guess she was so rattled, she didn’t know who she was talking to. + +By this time I was getting kind of sore at the operator, because I +wanted to get my sister the minute of ten o’clock, and she was sort of +spoiling my plan. I had just three more minutes to get her, because +Westy lighted a match and looked at his watch. Then I said, “Hello, +hello.” + +The same voice kept saying, “Hello, hello, is this you, father?” + +I said, “No, it isn’t. How long does it take to get the operator in this +berg?” + +The poor girl was almost crying by now. She said, “I’ve been trying for +an _age_ to get my father. Won’t you _please_ let me get him? I want my +father! Why _don’t_ they give me my father?” + +Gee whiz, you’d think I had her father in my pocket. I said, “I’m trying +to get my sister, too. If you happen to see her, tell her, will you?” + +She said, “Oh dear; it’s just _exasperating_. Won’t you _please_ get off +the wire. I want Central. Why can’t they help me? We’re in such a +_dreadful predicament_.” + +I said, “I guess Central went to the movies or somewhere. I’m a boy +scout and I’m in a dark station somewhere or other near Haverstraw——” + +“Oh, isn’t that just too _provoking!_” she said. + +I said, “Oh, it isn’t so bad in here, only it’s dark.” + +“Is there _anything_ I can _do_?” she said; “we’re lost on the top of +Eagle’s Nest Mountain. Oh, I wonder if you’d be willing to go to +Haverstraw and tell my people—Judge Edwards. It’s _dreadful!_ We’ve +been here since five o’clock. We haven’t had a thing to eat and we’re +nearly perishing. The boys made a mistake about the trail. Oh, it’s +_terrible_! We’re frightened out of our lives. I’ll _never, never_ come +up this _horrible_ mountain again!” + +I said, “Are the boys scouts?” + +She said, “No, they’re regular young men and they’re _utterly +bewildered_!” + +I said, “Now I _know_ they’re not scouts. But anyway, you don’t need to +worry, because we’ll come up and get you. Trails are our middle names. +You should worry about Central. But, one thing, I’d like to know how +there happens to be a ’phone up there.” + +She said, “Oh, you’re just a _dear_.” That’s just exactly what she +said—honest. + +I said, “Mountains aren’t horrible. I’ve met a whole lot of them and +they’re all right. Don’t you worry. I was trying to get my sister on the +’phone to tell her Many Happy Wishes, because it’s her birthday, and +she’s having a party. She’s just seventeen. We’re on a hike.” + +“Oh, I’m just seventeen, too,” she said; “and you’re perfectly +_wonderful_. I _know_ you’ll save us. We’re up here at the fire +observation station. If you’ll go to my father and go to the police——” + +“We should worry about the police,” I said; “the only trail they can +follow is a trail around the block. One of us fellows will go to your +father’s house and tell him, and meanwhile, the rest of us will come up +there. Anyway, I’d like to see that observation station. So now maybe +you’ll calm down and tell me how to find the mountain road.” + +“Oh, do you _think_ you _can_?” she asked. + +“Sure, we can,” I told her. + +Just then somebody must have pulled her away from the ’phone. Anyway, a +fellow’s voice said, “Let me talk to him. What is he? Just a kid?” Then +he said, “Will you please run to Haverstraw and notify Judge Edwards, 22 +Terrace Street, that his daughter and three friends are on the top of +Eagle’s Nest, and to please have the authorities notified and a party +formed to come here. I will see that you’re suitably rewarded.” + +I said, “I’d be ashamed to have the whole town of Haverstraw coming up +after me, and scouts don’t accept rewards. We’ll send to Haverstraw and +tell Judge Edwards, and then we’ll come up and get you. All you have to +do is to sit there and tell riddles till you see us. Which road do you +take for Eagle’s Nest?” + +Then he said how we should follow the west road from Haverstraw till we +got to a big white house with a windmill in front of it. Pretty soon +after we got past that, he said, we’d come to a cow path that led +through the fields. He said we should follow that till we got into the +woods where we’d see picnic grounds and then we’d find a trail that went +up the mountain. He said other trails branched off from it, so we’d have +to be careful. He said it didn’t go right to the top, and I suppose +that’s why they couldn’t find it coming down. + +He said, “Did you ever hit a mountain trail?” + +“_Hit_ one?” I said. “We give one a knock-out blow every couple of days. +So long, we’ll see you later. Tell that girl not to worry.” + +Gee whiz, I forgot all about Marjorie. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI + + UP THE TRAIL + + +As soon as I told Westy about it, he said he’d go into Haverstraw so as +to save time, while I went back to camp and got the rest of the fellows. +Oh boy, didn’t I hustle. I went running into camp shouting that there +were two fellows and two girls on the top of Eagle’s Nest, and that we +had to go and rescue them. + +“Are they human?” Harry asked in that funny way he had. + +“Yes, they’re human,” I said. + +“Five toes on their front feet and four on their hind feet?” he asked +me. “Had we better take some flypaper?” + +“All right, you can laugh,” I said. + +He said, “I’ve followed you through many wild adventures, but I never +accompanied you in rescuing a maiden in distress.” + +“Two maidens,” I said. + +“All right,” he laughed; “the more the merrier.” + +“And one of those fellows said I was a kid,” I told him. “Anyway, if I +took a girl out, I’d know how to bring her back, that’s one thing. Wait +till I see that fellow.” + +Harry just laughed and said he wouldn’t miss it for anything. So we took +two lanterns and started off along the road that ran north, and pretty +soon we hit into the main road out of Haverstraw and came to the big +white house with the windmill. Pretty soon we hit into the cow path that +led up through the woods. It wasn’t just like the fellow said, because +it fizzled out in a pasture. Anyway, across the pasture were thicker +woods and we picked up the mountain trail there. If he had told us that +it started right near a big stone, it would have saved us a lot of +hunting around with our lanterns. That’s just the way it is with big +fellows; they think they’re so smart that they don’t know anything. Gee +whiz, you didn’t need a microscope to see that rock, but he never even +mentioned it over the ’phone. + +One thing, who ever named that mountain Eagle’s Nest ought to apologize +to the first eagle he meets. It would have been a crazy eagle that would +build a nest like that. As nearly as I could make out it was a lot of +mountains all jumbled into one. Harry said it was a kind of a bouquet of +mountains. + +The trail led up through a pine forest and first it was easy following +it. Then it went down into a hollow and got mixed up with a lot of +rocks. I guess that must have been one of the rooms of the eagle’s nest. +Anyway, we couldn’t follow it through there so we took a chance and +picked it up on the other side. + +That’s where the climbing began. Oh boy, that was some tangle—all +underbrush and scrub oak. _Good night_, I don’t know how those girls +ever got through there. Pretty soon I stopped and began sniffing. + +“Do you know what it reminds me of?” I said. “It reminds me of raking up +the leaves at home.” + +“It smells like a rake,” Hunt Manners said, just joking. + +“No, but I mean burning autumn leaves,” I said; “you know how it smells +in Bridgeboro in the autumn. Then you know it’s getting cold and +Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming. Anyway, you can laugh, but that +smell always reminds me of Thanksgiving.” + +Harry just sniffed, but didn’t say anything, and we started up again. +There were lots of big hubbles, kind of valleys in the mountain, and +most of them were rocky. I guess in the daytime it would be easy enough +to keep the trail in those places, but at night, we had some job. + +In one of those places we heard a sound as if some one was moving and we +all stopped short and looked around. Pretty soon Dorry whispered for me +to look, and he pointed to a dark thing kind of sneaking away. + +Harry called, “Who’s there?” + +There wasn’t any answer and the man, or whatever it was, was gone. It +was so dark we couldn’t see which way he had gone. + +Harry said, “That’s funny; this is a queer place to meet anybody.” + +Will Dawson said, “I guess it was just a tramp.” + +“Or a leopard,” Tom Warner said. + +“Or maybe a _what-is-it_,” Charlie Seabury chimed in. + +Anyway, we didn’t want to run any risk of losing the trail, so we didn’t +bother about him, but kept on up the mountain. + +The higher we got, the worse it was. There was what we call mongrel +forest, tall trees and thick brush underneath. But it was straight going +now, without any up and down places. The trail was easy to follow, only +we had to go in single file, the first fellow (that was Harry) keeping +it by holding a lantern low. + +Pretty soon he stopped and said, “There’s brush burning somewhere around +here; I can smell it.” + +Ralph Warner said, “_Listen._” + +We all stood stark still and just as plain as could be, I could hear a +crackling sound quite a way off. + +“I don’t smell it now,” I said; “I did a little while ago.” + +“Wait till the breeze is this way,” Harry said. + +And then, in just a minute we got a good whiff of it—strong, just like +when I burned the leaves on our lawn at home. Then all of a sudden I +couldn’t smell it at all. Dorry tied his scout scarf on a stick and held +it up, and when it blew out straight we got a strong whiff, and the +crackling was louder. Sometimes it blew around the other way, up the +mountain. Sometimes we couldn’t smell anything at all, but mostly we +could hear the crackling a little. It was too dark to see any smoke and +there wasn’t any blaze. Harry said he guessed it was pretty far away. He +said the breeze could carry the smell a long distance. + +“It couldn’t carry the sound so far, though,” I said. + +“Trouble is, a stiff breeze can carry most anything,” Harry said; “well, +let’s move along and rescue the maidens.” + +Just then Hunt Manners said, “_Listen!_” + +Far off we could hear the whistle of a locomotive and a kind of +rattling, not very clear, but I knew it was the rattling of a train. + +“That’s ’way over at the Hudson,” Harry said; “shows you how far sound +will carry in the night.” + +Just then I looked at Dorry’s scarf that was tied on the stick, and I +saw it was blowing the way we were going—up the mountain. + +I said, “That’s why we hear the train; the breeze is blowing from the +east. But I can’t hear the crackling now.” + +“Guess the breeze is blowing that up the mountain, too,” Harry said. + +Then we started up the trail again toward the summit. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVII + + A VOICE + + +It was a jungle of underbrush, that’s what Harry said. Pretty soon the +trail just fizzled out in the bushes. We poked around with our lanterns +and found a spring there. I guess the wood between there and the summit +must have been where the party got lost. Sometimes we could hear the +crackling and sometimes we couldn’t, but we could smell the burning +brush all the time. + +“Guess we’re pretty near the summit,” Harry said; “let’s call that we’re +coming. The breeze will carry our voices.” + +So we all called together, “Hello, we’re coming.” + +There wasn’t any answer, but anyway, we couldn’t have heard on account +of the breeze blowing up the mountain. + +That was the only thing we had to guide us now—the breeze. We kept the +scarf in the air and just followed it, pushing through the brush. +Sometimes we had to stop and tear away an opening, so as to get through. +There must have been an easier way or those girls and fellows would +never have managed it, but Harry thought it was better to push right up +than to be groping around for a path. + +All of a sudden, Ralph Warner said, “_Look!_” + +_Good night!_ A long line of fire was coming up the mountain, maybe a +quarter of a mile in back of us. First it seemed like a dotted line, +kind of, because there were dark spaces. But even while we looked some +of these filled up. The thing it reminded me of most of all was +soldiers; it seemed like a line of soldiers, all bright and fiery, +charging up the mountain. It was coming fast and I have to admit it +scared me. Because even if we could get through the brush fast enough, I +saw we couldn’t get out of range of it. Kind of, the thought came to me +that it was like soldiers who had just scrambled out of the trenches. +That was just how suddenly we saw it. I remember I heard Harry say +something about wind and fire being allies, but we didn’t stop to talk, +only pushed up through the brush as fast as we could, but all the while +it kept gaining on us. + +Pretty soon I said, all out of breath, “We can’t keep this up; it’s +gaining; I can even feel the heat.” + +“We can’t flank it, that’s sure,” Harry said; “hustle for all you’re +worth; that’s all I can say.” + +Gee, I’ll never forget that night. We just pushed on up through the +brush, stumbling and falling and lifting each other and trying to run. +Our clothes were all torn and we were panting like a lot of dogs. + +“Watch and see that no fellow is left behind,” Harry panted. + +Every minute two or three of us were just dragging some fellow up out of +the brush. I guess it was a case of more haste, less speed; it’s pretty +hard running through brush. + +Harry just panted out, “Boys, we’re in a pretty tight place; don’t get +rattled. Lift your feet high with each step and follow right in my +tracks. If anybody falls, _shout_!” + +I said, “We’re losing all the time; what’s the use?” + +“We can keep ahead of it for a couple of hundred yards,” he said; “maybe +we’ll strike clear land. Anyway, we can’t do anything else than give it +a race.” + +By that time we could feel the heat and sometimes sparks blew almost +over our heads, but they were out when they reached ground. Harry just +kept panting out, “Hustle,” and “Keep your nerve.” + +By now the crackling was loud and I could taste smoke. I knew there +wasn’t much chance for us, but I didn’t say so. Anywhere a blown fire is +bad enough, but uphill it just rushes. It seemed funny that I’d have to +die on Marjorie’s birthday, and all of a sudden I thought how I had +tried to ’phone her. Gee, she’d never even know that. + +“Hustle,” Harry said. + +“Do you hear a voice?” Dorry asked; “_listen_.” + +As plain as could be, I heard a girl’s voice, crying. It kind of seemed +as if it might be Marjorie crying, because I was dead. + +Then I heard Hunt Manners say, “Yes, I hear it.” + +Harry just panted out, “Never mind, step high and hustle.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVIII + + WE FIGHT AND RUN AWAY + + +“Where are you?” Harry shouted; “all call together.” + +We could hear several voices answering all together, “Here.” + +“Keep shouting,” he called; “we’re coming. Is there any open land up +there?” + +“No,” a voice said; “hurry!” + +We followed the voices and pretty soon came to the observation station. +It was just a little shanty with a trestle-work wooden tower close to +it. + +“Did you get ’phone connection yet?” Harry called as we came up. + +“Guess the poles are burned down,” a fellow’s voice answered. “We can’t +even get Central. Have you got water?” he fairly wailed. “We’re going to +be burned alive! Have you got water?” + +Inside were two girls and two young fellows. + +One of the girls was wringing her hands and just sobbing, and the other +girl was trying to calm her down. She just kept crying, “It’s coming +nearer and nearer! What shall we do? Oh, what shall we do?” One of the +fellows was all gone to pieces, too, and he just clutched Harry’s arm +and said, “Save us; can’t you save us?” + +Harry just kind of threw him off. He said, “We’re here to save you if we +can, and die with you if we can’t. The first thing is, not to be a +coward. Remember, when the Titanic went down, the band was playing. +There have been a couple of million people killed in the last two years. +Who are you, to be standing here crying like a baby?” + +Oh boy, that hit the girl if it didn’t hit the fellow. She just got up +and grabbed Harry by the hand and said, “I’m _not_ a coward. I _can_ be +brave.” + +“All right,” he said; “we’ve got about eight minutes. Sit down and be +calm. These boys are scouts. Take a lesson from them.” + +_Oh, didn’t I admire that fellow!_ I bet the girl did, too. Gee, you +couldn’t blame her. + +“There ought to be some axes here,” he said; “hustle and turn things +over.” + +[Illustration: WE CHOPPED AWAY THE BRUSH TO MAKE A LONG CLEAR SPACE] + +Oh boy, it didn’t take us long to have that shanty inside out. We found +five axes. + +“All right,” Harry said; “now we’ve got just one slim chance and it all +depends upon how fast we can work. We’ve got to chop down and tear up a +line of brush and start a fire back to meet the other one. Everybody get +busy-woman’s place is on the fire line; _hustle_!” + +Oh boy, you should have seen that girl who had been crying. She just +grabbed an axe and wouldn’t give it up. Now this is the way we did, and +all the while that line of fire was coming along, nearer, nearer, +nearer. We chopped away the brush so as to make a long clear space about +ten or fifteen feet wide. Harry and three of the scouts and one of the +girls used the axes; because that girl just wouldn’t hand over the axe +and we couldn’t make her. And didn’t she turn out to be a regular Mrs. +Daniel Boone! + +The rest of us threw the brush over toward the fire as fast as we could. +Some of the small bushes we just dragged up out of the earth. Some +hustling! + +The fire was so near us now, that we could feel the heat good and strong +and sparks kept falling among us, so we had to keep stamping them out. I +don’t know how long it took us, but pretty soon we had a long, narrow +space cleared. I know my hands were bleeding. As fast as the brush was +chopped away, some of the fellows dragged it over toward where the fire +was, as near as they dared. That girl would go almost up to the blaze +and push a big clump of brush toward it and then run back. Her dress was +all torn, but she didn’t care. + +Then we lighted the brush along the edge of the cleared space that was +nearest to the fire. If the wind had been blowing that way, the fire +would have moved right out to meet the other one. But it had to buck the +wind and that was bad. Anyway, the clearing we had made prevented it +from coming our way, but the sparks kept blowing across the clearing, +and we knew that all we had done was to check the fire long enough to +get another good head start away from it. + +Believe _me_, we didn’t wait long. + +Harry was panting so hard he could only just talk. “We’ve got to get +down the other side of the mountain,” he said, “I figure it’ll be about +ten minutes or so before the land this side of the clearing gets +started. The sparks’ll start it. The clearing isn’t wide enough and the +wind is wrong. Drop everything and follow me—quick.” + +Then Will Dawson spoke up. He never talked very much, but he was a good +scout just the same. He was breathing so hard he just gulped. “Do either +of you girls or fellows know where the man who lived here got his water? +There must be water here somewheres or they wouldn’t have built the +house here.” + +“We can’t stem this advance with spring water,” Harry said; “we’d need a +reservoir. Come on!” + +“But if we could find the spring,” Will said, “we could follow the +trickle and get into a brook lower down. How are we going to find our +way down the other side of the mountain? It’s worse than this side. The +west side of the mountain is always worse.” + +“The fire won’t climb down as fast is it climbs up,” Harry panted; “it +doesn’t work that way. The mountain itself acts as a wind shield. We’ve +got to get over the top blamed quick. I’ll find a way down. Don’t let’s +waste time here!” + +Will just said, “The best trail in the world is a brook. It goes the +quickest way. If it takes us fifteen minutes to find the spring, even +then it’s best. It’s better than getting lost. The brook knows its way +and we don’t. Water is a scout.” + +“Who says so?” Harry said, kind of impatient. + +“Kit Carson said so,” Will said. + +“Well, I guess you’re a pretty good scout, too,” Harry said; “hike +around, only _hustle!_” + + * * * * * + +In about two minutes we found the spring, about a hundred feet from the +house. + +“Lucky it’s there,” one of those new fellows said. + +“It had to be there,” Will answered him; “because people drink water. +Where there are people, there is water.” + +Gee whiz, I never knew Will Dawson till that night. And I was mighty +proud that he was in my patrol, you can bet. + +That girl said, “Isn’t he just _wonderful?_” + +I said, “You’re wonderful, too, and I’d like to have you in my patrol.” + +But, one thing, there wasn’t any time to talk, because the sparks were +blowing across the clearing and dropping all around the house. The fire +that we had started back toward the other one had cleared some land +between us and the blaze, but not enough. + +The water from the spring trickled down over the rocks and we followed +it. It went through a kind of cavern on the top of the mountain, and +when we got through there, we could see plain enough that we were on the +west slope. The mountain wasn’t all down hill right there, but the +trickle of water flowed down through hollows and anybody could see now +that Will Dawson was right. He was right for three reasons. + +First, because as long as we followed the brook there wouldn’t be any +going up and down, like there was climbing up the east side of the +mountain. Second, because it took us down the quickest way. And third, +because we’d always be near water. In some places we had to scramble +down steep precipices where the water fell, but we always managed it, +and every time we did that, we knew we were saving space. + +After we got about half a mile, we could see points of flame up over the +top of the mountain and we knew the fire had reached the spot where we +had been. Harry said he guessed the shanty was on fire. Maybe it would +come down the east side a ways, we didn’t know, but anyway it wouldn’t +have such a breeze to drive it, and we were coming into open land, so we +should worry. + +The west slope of that mountain was easy, once we got down a ways from +the top. That’s the way it is with most all the mountains near the +Hudson; the steep side faces the river. Pretty soon we were hiking +across pastures and then we came to a road. We didn’t bother with the +brook after we passed the steep part. I don’t know where it went, but it +did us a good turn, that’s one thing. Some fellows like fire better than +water, and I’m not saying anything against camp-fires. And I don’t say +that water is always a friend, either, because look at floods and things +like that. But I like water better. + +Only, gee whiz, I don’t like it to rain in vacation. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIX + + WELCOME HOME + + +Now this chapter goes from the bottom of that mountain to the top of a +pineapple soda in Bennett’s. That’s in Bridgeboro where I live. + +The first house we came to along the road we got the farmer up and told +him about the fire on the east side of Eagle’s Nest, and how we got away +from it. He asked us if it was very bad. + +“Jiminetty!” I said, “I don’t know how bad it is, but I hope the eagles +up there have their nests insured.” + +Harry asked him if he had a telephone and he said, “No.” + +“We probably couldn’t get a number if you did,” Harry said; “the +telephone company reminds me of Rip Van Winkle; they seem to have gone +to sleep at the switch-board for twenty years. Have you got a flivver?” + +We kind of knew he had, because they raise flivvers on all the farms up +that way. But he was a _regular_ farmer—he had a Packard, 1776 model. +And, believe me, we packed that Packard, and in ten minutes we were +rolling over the road that runs around the mountain, headed for +Haverstraw. + +Harry kept talking to the girls; it was awful funny to hear him. Those +other two fellows didn’t have a chance at all. Gee, I was glad of it, +because what right did that fellow have to say I was just a kid? That +girl that helped us, said we were _just wonderful_. Cracky, I wouldn’t +say that we’re so smart, but when there’s a fire we don’t stand wringing +our hands as if they were a fire bell. + +When we came into Haverstraw, we found the streets full of people, +everybody watching the fire on the mountain. We could see the east side +of Eagle’s Nest and the fire, just as plain as if it were all on a movie +screen. It seemed kind of funny, because while we were up there we never +thought about how it would look from the village. The fire was right up +on the top of the mountain now, with little patches in other places, and +we could see a great big burned space. I guess that was the very part we +had passed through on our way up. + +I could see now, even better than before, the danger we had been in. I +guess everybody in the village thought we were dead, because when we +looked away up there it just seemed as if nobody could have escaped out +of all that. + +“We went out the stage entrance,” Harry said, as the auto rolled up +along the main street; “sneaked through the back yard, hey?” + +“Oh, I think you’re just _marvelous_!” one of the girls said. + +Harry said to her, “Let it be a lesson to you never to throw a lighted +cigar away in the woods.” + +“Oh, the _idea_!” she said; “I think you’re just horrid. I wouldn’t +touch a _horrid_ cigar!” + +“Well, don’t throw a good one away, either,” Harry said; “the good ones +are just as bad.” + +“Aren’t you _perfectly terrible_!” the other girl said. + +But she didn’t think he was terrible. + + * * * * * + +Anyway, I knew from what he had said that the dark figure we had seen on +our way up was probably to blame for the whole business. Cracky, I’ve +got nothing to say against cigars, because my father smokes them, but +anyway, a cigar isn’t worth as much as a mountain, I should hope. And +you bet it was a lesson to us never to throw matches in the woods and +always to trample our camp-fires out before we turn in. But, jiminies, I +guess all scouts know that. + +When we stopped at Judge Edwards’ house, a big crowd of people pressed +all around us wanting to know how we escaped. They said that men had +tried three times to get up the mountain, but were driven back by the +flames; they thought we were all dead. + +Mrs. Edwards came running out calling, “_You’re not dead! You’re not +dead! Oh, you’re not dead!_” + +Gee, anybody could see that. + +She just threw her arms around her daughter and around the other girl +and around those two fellows. Oh boy, I thought I was in for it, too! I +don’t mind leopards and _what-is-its_, but nix on hugging and kissing. +Then Judge Edwards and Westy came out and, oh, I can’t tell you +everything that happened, because everybody was talking all at once. +Harry said it was a regular west front, all over again. + +Mrs. Edwards made us all go into the house and have cake and hot coffee, +and just to show you how things happen, what kind of cake do you suppose +it was? I bet you can’t guess. Yum, yum—m—m, it was cocoanut frosted +cake. + +And you can bet I thought about my sister Marjorie while I was eating +it. I had three helpings and home in Bridgeboro I would only have had +two, so that shows you that it’s worth while doing a good turn. + + * * * * * + +After that we didn’t have any more adventures. Good night, we had had +enough of them, that’s what _I_ said. We bunked in Judge Edwards’ house +and the overflow bunked in the barn, and the next morning we hit the +trail for home. + +Believe me, we stuck to that trail as if it were a tight rope. Harry +said if any one of us looked right or left, he’d put blinders on us. +That night we camped near Nyack and early in the morning we said +good-bye to the Hudson and struck in southwest till we came to our own +little river—that’s the Bridgeboro River. At about four o’clock that +afternoon we went tramping over the River Road bridge and hit into Main +Street. Right on the corner was Bradly’s grocery wagon, and oh boy, it +looked good to me, because it proved we were back home. “_Bradly’s Cash +Grocery_,” Dorry said; “those are the three sweetest words in the +world.” + +“Wrong the first time,” I said; “the three sweetest words in the world +are _Bennett’s Fresh Confectionery_.” + +“Me for Bennett’s!” Charlie Seabury shouted. + +“Same here!” Dorry piped up. + +“Bennett’s or die!” screamed Ralph Warner. + +“Lend me a dime, will you?” Tom Warner shouted at his brother. + +“Lend me two dimes, somebody!” Bad Manners began howling. + +Good night, it was some circus! + +Harry said, “Come ahead, I’ll take you all to Bennett’s and treat you, +and I hope I’ll never get mixed up with this crew again. I’ve had +enough.” + +“Hurrah for Harry Donnelle!” everybody yelled. + +Cracky, everybody was staring at us and laughing as we went down Main +Street. We should worry. + +In Bennett’s we all lined up and Harry told Mr. Bennett to please put +arsenic or carbolic acid or some other nice flavoring in our sodas; +something to keep us quiet. + +I ordered a pineapple soda and yum, yum-m-m, didn’t that first spoonful +of ice cream taste good. + + + + + CHAPTER XL + + MMM—MM-M-M! + + +This is the last chapter and it’s very short. Maybe you’ll say that’s +one good thing. But it’s a good one just the same. It’s a peach—I mean +a pineapple. It’s the best chapter I ever wrote. It goes from the top of +the glass to the bottom of the glass. And that’s the end of the story. +So even if the story’s no good, it has a good ending. It had a good +beginning, too. Harry Donnelle said there should be a special chapter +about that soda. + +Of course, there were seven other sodas, too. I don’t mean that I drank +seven more. But mine is the best one to end with, because I always go +right down to the bottom of the glass. The bottom is the only thing that +stops me. + +So that’s the way it is with this story. It has a happy ending. It bunks +right into the bottom of the glass. The plot is all cleared up. So is +the glass. There’s nothing left to tell—or to drink. + +Harry Donnelle said if I didn’t look out I’d scrape the polish off the +glass with my spoon. + +I should worry, a scout is thorough. + +So long. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROY BLAKELEY, PATHFINDER*** + + +******* This file should be named 19815-0.txt or 19815-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/8/1/19815 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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