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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e1ee51 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51539 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51539) diff --git a/old/51539-0.txt b/old/51539-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fabd908..0000000 --- a/old/51539-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5115 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape, by Carl Saxon - -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: Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape - -Author: Carl Saxon - -Release Date: March 23, 2016 [EBook #51539] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKIE THORNE AT CAMP LENAPE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - BLACKIE THORNE - AT CAMP LENAPE - - - CARL SAXON - - _Author of - “The Mystery at Camp Lenape”_ - - [Illustration: Logo] - - - BOOKS, INC. - NEW YORK BOSTON - - COPYRIGHT 1940, 1931 BY BOOKS, INC. - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - _For - BILL SIMMONS - companion of tent and trail_ - - - - - CONTENTS - - - I. Tent Four 7 - II. The Councilor 17 - III. After Taps 30 - IV. A Hard Case 39 - V. Treasure 53 - VI. The Hermit’s House 59 - VII. Initiation 69 - VIII. The Snipe Hunt 81 - IX. A Rainy Day 97 - X. The Lie 111 - XI. Kangaroo Court 123 - XII. The Hut on Black Pond 135 - XIII. Robbery by Night 150 - XIV. The Spring-House 166 - XV. The Last Race 179 - XVI. The End—and the Beginning 198 - - - - - BLACKIE THORNE AT - CAMP LENAPE - - - - - CHAPTER I - TENT FOUR - - - “We’ve been working on the ra-a-ailroad - All the livelong day——” - -Two enormous hay-wains, full and running over with a tumbling mass of -boys, turned a bend in the narrow country road. - -Blackie Thorne was the foremost boy on the first wagon. He clambered up -on the narrow seat with so much eagerness to view the camp and the lake -that he almost knocked over the stolid farmer who was driving the team. -His first view of camp! - -There it lay on the wooded slope above the shining lake and the boat -dock, a large white lodge with a flag floating lazily above it, and two -rows of canvas tents lost among trees to the right but showing clearly -against the gray mountains beyond, with their heavy covering of tall -pines sticking up like spikes along the skyline. Camp Lenape, where the -wonderful things his friends told about had happened. Why, anything -might happen in such a marvelous place as the camp which grew nearer -every minute as the slow horses plodded their way along the dusty road! - -Blackie squirmed with excitement and jerked his arm so that it hit the -head of the driving farmer and knocked his wide straw hat down over his -eyes. - -“Here now, sonny!” spluttered the man, grabbing at his hat and almost -falling off the board which served as a seat. “If you’re a-goin’ to get -so het up about seein’ this camp-ground of yourn, you better get out and -walk!” - -“A good idea!” exclaimed a fellow standing just behind Blackie, holding -himself up in the jolting wagon by a hand on Blackie’s shoulder. He was -Gil Shelton, patrol-leader in Blackie’s troop back in the city, and a -“three-striper” who wore on his camp sweater three green chevrons to -show that he had been at Lenape for as many seasons. “What do you say, -Blackie? If we hop off now, we can follow the trail through the woods -and beat the rest into camp.” - -The trail led around the end of the lake, down through a meadow dotted -with daisies and buttercups, and on again into the deepening shadow of -the pines and birches. - -They panted as they ran up a short hill, and came out in a little -cleared space among the scrub-pines. - -“Wait a minute, can’t you?” gasped Blackie. “What’s the use of killing -ourselves?” - -Gil snorted. “Does that little run make you tired? Wait until you’ve -been here at camp a week, and a trot like this will seem so slow you’ll -think you’re going backwards.” Nevertheless he stopped and threw himself -on the soft ground, and Blackie gratefully followed his example. - -“How far are we from camp now?” - -“Oh, about a quarter of a mile, I guess. Don’t worry, little one, you’ll -get there before dark.” He pointed his grass-stem, toward the hills, -where the sun was dropping, a ball of red fire in the west. “The Indian -council ring is over that way. We’ll have a pow-wow there to-morrow -night, I guess.” - -Blackie’s eyes followed in the indicated direction, but his attention -was immediately claimed by a fan-shaped formation of gray rocks on the -side of the western mountains. His dark eyebrows raised, and he -whistled. “Hey, Gil, what’s that?” - -“What’s what?” - -“That pile of rocks there—are they rocks?” - -“That’s a terminal moraine. Now, ask me another.” - -“A what?” - -“Terminal moraine, dummy.” - -“Well, who put it there?” - -“Say,” exclaimed Gil with disgust, “if you listened to the scoutmaster’s -talks instead of skylarking around at troop meetings and stealing Fat -Crampton’s hat, you’d learn not to be so ignorant. A terminal moraine is -a pile of rocks brought down by a glacier in the days when all the part -of the world north of here was covered with ice. You’ve heard of the -Glacial Age, haven’t you? Well, when the ice moved down from the North -Pole it pushed a lot of rocks ahead of it, right over the ground. Now, -when old Mr. Glacier got this far, he heard the five o’clock whistle -blow or something, so he dropped that pile of rocks he was carrying, and -started to melt. When we hike up there, you can see markings on the -rocks where they got scratched being pulled along over the ground.” Gil -finished his lecture by throwing away his chewed grass-stem and -carefully pulling another. - -Blackie rose and held up his hand to shade his squinting eyes while he -peered at the slide of boulders which, according to Gil’s story, had -been brought there in such a dramatic manner. - -“All right, I believe you,” he said; but he continued to stare. - -Half-hidden among the pines and mountain maples, clinging to the side of -the mountain at the end of a thin line of road that ran above, Blackie -saw the faded clapboards and weathered roof of a house. There was not a -sign of life about it. The sinking sun, nearing its last stand above the -Lenape ridge, was reflected in all its bloodiness in two upstairs -windows of that dark and ominous dwelling; the afterglow swirled and -glinted with the color of molten copper. A little breeze blew up from -the lake, a breeze not too warm for late June; and Blackie shivered -slightly as it struck his back. He didn’t know why, but the sight of -that dead, hidden house scared him—just a little. He thought it looked -like a skull, lost among the trees. There must be some mystery about a -house like that. - -“Gil!” - -“Well, what is it now, youngster?” - -“Does anybody live in that old house up there?” - -“Sure. That’s where old Rattlesnake Joe lives. Some people around here -call him the hermit. You can go up and see him some time. Now, have you -got your breath back? If we don’t get going pretty soon, the gang will -be in ahead of us, and we’ll be out of luck for getting a good bunk.” - -The two boys trotted on along the trail at a fast pace. Blackie would -have liked to ask some more questions about the hermit who lived alone -in the woods in that mysterious house, but he was afraid that Gil would -taunt him about being a greenhorn, so he saved his breath for running. -The trail soon broke surprisingly into the campus, and they were among -white tents where several of their comrades, already arrived in camp by -the same short-cut around the lake, were busily spreading out their -blankets on the two-decked canvas bunks that lined the tent walls. - -“The tent assignments must be already posted,” muttered Gil. “Hurry up -to the lodge!” - -Blackie ran with him through the little tent-village, but when he -reached the flagpole before the spreading lodge he halted as the lake -and the far shore spread out before his view. - -“Jee-miny!” he whistled. He could see the roof of the boat dock below, -around which were moored about a dozen broad-beamed steel rowboats. - -Gil Shelton came tearing by, laden with blanket and duffle that he had -collected from the pile of baggage on the lodge porch. - -“Say, Blackie,” he called, “you better get on the job! You’re assigned -to Tent Four, down there. Grab your stuff and hurry down. The first one -in the tent gets his choice of bunks.” - -Several boys, the advance guard of the hay-wagons, came streaming down -to the campus from the road behind the lodge. Blackie climbed the steps -to the lodge porch and in the welter of luggage there discovered a -familiar-looking sea-bag with his initials painted on it in black. -Seizing this dunnage, he ran stumbling to Tent Four, his new home in the -woods. - -Tent Four lay at the end of the row of tents topmost on the hilly -campus. Before it lay a cleared space dotted by huckleberry bushes and a -few shading pines. The tent was floored and painted a battleship gray, -and eight canvas bunks lined the walls, running the length of the tent -and making two tiers. A tall boy was already swiftly and smoothly making -up a bed in one of the lower bunks. He nodded to Blackie but did not -pause in his work. - -Gil Shelton shouted across from Tent Three, next door. His bunk was -already made. With the deftness of an experienced camper, he was setting -each thing in its correct place—shoes and hats in a line under the bed, -coats and sweaters on the rope swung between the two tent-poles, pajamas -under his pillow, and the remainder of his kit in one of the pine-wood -lockers that ran down the middle of the tent. - -“The bottom bunks are the best, Blackie! If you pick a top one, the -fellow under you gets you up in the morning by the airplane method!” - -Blackie began unpacking his duffle, slowly and clumsily. He laid out his -blankets on a lower bunk as advised, and tried two or three times to -make his result somewhat resemble Gil’s bed; but when he had finished, -it still looked bumpy and not too soft. Then he sat on his sea-bag and -looked about him helplessly. - -The tall fellow, who had not spoken until now, looked up and smiled -shyly. - -“Stuck? Well, follow what I do, and you’ll soon get cleared up. This the -first time you’ve been to camp?” - -It was the first time Blackie had ever been away from home, but he hated -to admit it. - -“Yeah. How do they put their stuff at _this_ camp?” He said it as if he -had visited all the other camps in the world before he had happened to -drop in on this insignificant little one. - -Two other boys now rushed down, and made haste to stake out their claims -to lower bunks. - -“Can’t have that one,” warned the tall, quiet boy to one of them who had -put his bag on the lower bunk nearest the lodge. “That belongs to the -councilor. And a councilor needs a lower bunk because he may have to -turn out quick in the middle of the night if he’s needed.” - -“Who is the councilor?” asked the other. - -“Mr. Rawn—Wally. He’s the fellow that has charge of the swimming. Well, -I’m going up to the lodge. He promised to let me be the waiter for the -first two days, because I know all about it.” He departed in the -direction of the lodge. - -Blackie sat on his bunk and looked around. Everyone was busily engaged -in making up the first night’s bed, and shouts and singing came from all -quarters as the busy campers shook down in their new homes. From the -lodge porch came the brazen blare of First Call sounded by the camp -bugler. - -A pine bough brushed against the tent, laden with cones. It occurred to -Blackie that it would be a good idea to take a few and stick them in -between someone’s blankets. He lifted off a few that looked to be the -most prickly and crossing the tent, pulled down the blankets of the tall -lad who had gone to the lodge. The two other boys had now been joined by -a third; but none of them were watching, for they were hurriedly -preparing for supper, and evidently thought the bunk was his own. - -Blackie shoved the pine-cones down between the blankets, and looked -around to see if anyone had watched him. Someone had. A shadow fell -across the front of the tent, a tall and muscular figure stood over him, -and a deep voice demanded, “Do you always sleep with pine-cones in your -bed?” - - - - - CHAPTER II - THE COUNCILOR - - -Blackie hesitated. - -“Yes, sir, I always do that when I’m camping. It makes it seem more as -if I was really in the woods,” he said. - -The tall man—he must have been six feet two, and stockily built—looked -down at Blackie and frowned. He was big enough to have picked up the boy -and used him for a baseball. - -“I wouldn’t lie if I were you,” he drawled. “It’s a bad habit for a -young lad to acquire. That bunk belongs to Ken Haviland, my aide. By the -time he’s ready to crawl in to-night, he’ll be plenty tired from a long -day on the job. Don’t you think he’s entitled to a good sleep?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, since we are to be tent-mates, we ought to get acquainted.” He -grinned broadly, and held out his hand. “I’m Wally Rawn. What’s your -name?” - -“Blackie. Blackie Thorne.” - -The man grinned as he took the boy’s hand in a firm grip and surveyed -the bright black eyes, the shining black hair. - -“Not a bad name, at that. What’s your mother call you?” - -“She calls me Blackie, too. My regular name is Ambrose.” - -“I won’t tell a soul. Blackie you are and Blackie you shall be. Now, -Blackie, I’m going to offer you a chance to show what sort of a spirit -you have for helping to make the Tent Four boys known all over camp. I -have, after much thought, decided to paint our tent-poles with pink and -green stripes. That ought to start the rest of camp thinking about us. -Now, please run up to the kitchen and ask the chef to send you down here -with a bucket of striped paint—pink and green.” - -Blackie was off like a flash, but his leader called him back. - -“While you’re up there, Blackie, you can also ask him to lend you a -bunk-stretcher. I find that my feet stick out over the edge of my berth, -and I don’t want to wake up in the morning and find the birds roosting -on my toes. A left-handed bunk-stretcher—my bunk is on the left-hand -side.” - -“Yes, Mr. Rawn.” - -“Call me Wally. Now, off with you!” - -Blackie bounded up the short hill to the side door of the kitchen. -Through the screen came the tantalizing fragrance of something good; -supper was on the way, evidently, and Ellick, that good-hearted king of -the kitchen, was at his busiest. Blackie pushed open the door and ran in -with an important look on his dark face. He was greeted by Leggy, a -skinny, coffee-colored individual whose thin shanks, although they -seemed to have no end, did no more than reach the ground. He waved a -long-handled spoon, and made a swing with it at Blackie’s head. - -“Outside, white boy!” he cried. “Kitchen ain’t no place for little boys -at de supper-call.” - -“I got a message for the chef—very important. Let me in!” - -“Hol’ on dere!” came Ellick’s voice from the far corner of the room. -“You ain’t de boy what is lookin’ for de striped paint, is you?” - -“Yes, I am, chef.” - -“Well, if dat don’t beat all!” exclaimed the surprised cook. “We is just -out of striped paint. If I wasn’t busily pre-incapacitated by carving -dis yere ham for dinner, now, I would shorely help you-all out. A -left-handed bunk-stretcher wouldn’t do as well, would it, now?” - -“Say, that was the other thing I was sent for!” - -“Who-all sent you?” - -“Wally Rawn—he’s my leader.” - -“Oh, that Wally boy! It must shore be important then. If I could only -dis-extricate myself from carvin’ dis yere ham, now——Let me see. De -bestest thing to do under de concircumstances is for you-all to go down -to de boat dock and petitionate de person in charge to give you de keys -to de campus. And, whiles you’m down there, you-all might bring up a -cargo what’s waitin’ for some smart young boy to fetch me. Ask him -pussonally from me to deliver unto you-all de shipment of fence-post -holes and de Royal Official Back-Scratcher.” - -“You bet, chef—keys to the campus, fencepost holes and the Royal -Official Back-Scratcher.” - -“I thanks you. What might be you-all name?” - -“Blackie.” - -“Hmm. I decalculate from dat name dat you are repartial to doughnuts.” -There was a sweet, sugary smell in the warm kitchen air. - -“Doughnuts? You said it, chef!” - -“Catch!” - -The grinning Ellick deftly caught up a doughnut from a bowl beside him, -and tossed it in the air. Blackie got under it like a veteran fielder, -and sped out the door. The gangling Leggy aimed a parting swing at him -with the long-tailed spoon, and missed. - -On the parade ground, Blackie paused in his headlong lakeward course at -the sight of Gil Shelton, hair combed, face shining from a recent -scrubbing, and spotless for supper. “Hey, Blackie, where you heading? -After fence-post holes?” - -“Yep—how did you know? And striped paint and a left-handed -bunk-stretcher and——” - -Gil started in great surprise. “Don’t tell me,” he exclaimed, “that they -picked you to bring the Royal Official Back-Scratcher?” - -“They sure have.” - -“That’s a great honor, my son. In fact, only the newest and greenest -boys are ever picked for it. Say, Blackie, I didn’t think you’d fall for -that old stuff. Did you ever see a fence-post hole? Does striped paint -come in cans?” - -Blackie paused and thought for the first time. - -“Well, Gil, it was my leader Wally who sent me. He told me not to tell -lies, too, so I thought it was all right.” - -“Say, did you ever hear of Santa Claus? Why, for a week now the little, -new, green, smart, bright city boys will be looking all over the place -for striped paint and the key to the lake. And you fell for it the first -thing!” - -Gil’s laughter was so deep that Blackie was glad to get back to the -shelter of his tent. - -Wally greeted him. “So you didn’t find it, eh? Well, that’s all -right—don’t be discouraged. You can help me out in another way. Just run -down to the dock, will you, and ask if anyone down there has seen the -key to the lake?” - -“Not on your life, Wally,” grinned Blackie. “Send one of the new fellows -down, can’t you?” - -The camp bugler, Ted Fellowes, sounded Assembly Call at that moment, and -there was no time for further talk before supper. After the Retreat -ceremony and the lowering of the flag, the boys attacked the supper that -had been prepared in the depths of the kitchen. Blackie had never found -a meal that tasted quite so good. - -He met the remainder of the boys of Tent Four at the table. Ken -Haviland, the tent aide, was busily serving as waiter at one end; he had -to run again and again to the serving window for additional platters of -ham, potatoes, and turnips, mountains of bread and oceans of milk. -Blackie didn’t envy him his job. - -Wally had evidently met all the boys in his group. He paused and, -between mouthfuls, addressed them. - -“There’s one thing that’s worrying me, gentlemen of the famous Tent Four -group. There are only seven of us, and there should be eight, counting -myself. One of our number has not turned up. I shall call our imposing -roll. Haviland!” - -“Here, sir.” Ken seized his serving tray and dashed off in pursuit of -dessert. - -“Thorne! Here, I see. Slater!” - -“Here, sir!” answered a freckle-faced boy with burning red hair. - -“Guppy!” - -Blackie looked with interest at the boy with such a beautiful name. He -was a little chap of about eleven, at the end of one row. - -“Lefkowitz!” - -“Present!” came a squeaky voice from across the table. - -“Gallegher!” - -“Here!” He was a sunburnt, black-haired chap with a scar across his -forehead, shaped like a V. - -“Crampton! No answer. It is the notorious Mr. Crampton who is missing. -Has anybody here ever heard tell of the gentleman?” - -“That must be Fat,” said Blackie. “We saw him down at the end of the -lake before we hiked up. He was in the wagon then.” - -“Maybe that’s the fat fellow we dumped off the wagon coming along the -road back of camp,” volunteered Slater. “We told him that walking was -the best way to reduce his figger, and dumped him out.” - -“To our fat friend’s rescue, then, tent-mates!” cried Wally, drinking -down the last of a glass of milk. “As soon as the Chief makes his -announcements, we shall be in the saddle and off for the hunt!” - -A whistle sounded, and quiet fell on the groups. The Chief was about to -speak. He rose, an imposing figure of a man, quiet, dignified, and with -a voice full of calm command. He was dressed in camper’s togs, and wore -the green “L” on his sweater. - -“All I have to say is this, fellows. We are all up here for a good -time—the best time ever. Now, I want to mention a few things that will -help the new camper to get along and make himself at home. Don’t expose -yourselves to the sun too much until you get a coat of tan gradually; -you won’t blister then. Don’t cut up or mark the trees on the campus of -which we are so proud. Don’t have any firearms in your tents; none of -any kind are permitted here at camp, and if you have any, bring them up -to the lodge and I will look after them for you. And finally, I only -need mention the rule we have about boys who smoke. Now, those are all -the ‘don’t’s’ I’m going to mention. In an hour there will be a grand -jubilee campfire below the baseball diamond, where I will introduce you -to the councilors, who will then have something to say to you. All set -for the best camp season ever! Everybody happy?” - -“Yay!” The resounding, united call of the campers reverberated among the -lodge rafters. - -“Let the lions roar!” - -“Rao-a-ow!” A pack of well-fed lions never sent up such a tremendous -roaring to the Sahara moon. - -“Dismissed!” - -Tent Four remained a little island in the swirling rush of campers that -broke up after the meal. - -“Are you with me, gang?” shouted Wally. “Onward to the rescue of our -wandering brother!” He made for the back door, pushing through the crowd -like a fullback carrying the ball to victory, followed by his eager team -of tent-mates. Tent Four was on the round-up. - -No sooner had they reached the road behind camp than the leader began -giving directions, curtly and with precision. “Spread out, fellows, and -we’ll cover a path on each side of the road. Keep in touch with my -whistle—I’ll be in the center. Shout for Crampton at intervals, and -we’ll soon have him back in the fold——What’s that?” - -A low moan was heard behind him, just off the road. - -“Help! Help!” - -Wally bounded off in the direction from whence it came. His muscular -legs cleared the low bushes like so many hurdles. - -“Behind that big tree!” shouted Gallegher. The six boys dashed off after -their leader, and found him staring down at a mournful figure sitting -with his back to the trunk of a tall pine. It was Fat Crampton. His -bulging cheeks bore the trails of tear-marks; he sat hunched amid the -wreckage of his knapsack and accouterment, with the most woebegone look -in the world. - -“I’m lost in the woods,” he moaned. “I’ve been walking around for -hours!” - -“Why, you poor nut,” said Blackie, “if you had walked two steps further -you would have tripped over the camp!” - -Fat transferred his doleful gaze. “Oh, Blackie, is it really you? Say, -I’m scared. I heard a bunch of lions off in the woods a minute ago, and -I thought they were going to get me.” - -“Lions, nothing!” The whole tent broke into a storm of laughter. “That -was us! Rao-a-ow! Look out for us, Fat—we’re lions!” - -“Come on, lion-hunter,” said Wally, “come on and get a meal of raw meat. -I think the chef will have saved something for you.” He lifted the -rotund lad on his shoulder and set off toward the kitchen, with Fat -helplessly waving his arms from his lofty perch. The rest of the boys -ran with them, roaring terribly and making quips at the wanderer’s -expense. - -Little Guppy ran beside Wally, looking up at the leader. - -“I’ll make up Fat’s bunk,” he offered, “if he’ll tell me where his -blankets are.” - -“That’s the spirit! Keep it up, and you’ll make a great aide some day, -Gup!” - -By the time the fat boy was fed, the bugle sounded Assembly for the -campfire. It was now dark, and the campers found their ways down through -the baseball diamond to a field above the lake shore, where a group of -three or four leaders were standing beside a high pyre of logs and -branches, talking to the Chief. They were Mr. Frayne, the burly -assistant director whom everyone, even the smallest boys, familiarly -called “Happy Face” because of the smile he always wore; “Sax” McNulty, -the mournful-looking comedian and saxophone artist who had charge of the -shows and stunt-nights; and Lieutenant Eames, the West Pointer. The -other leaders were to be found among the crowd of boys settling around -the piled fire. - -In the glow of somebody’s flashlight Blackie caught sight of Gil -Shelton’s face in the crowd. Gil saw him, also, and shouted over: “Hi, -Blackie! How’s the guardian of the Royal Official Back-Scratcher?” - -“Aw, forget it, Gil. Say, what are they going to do now?” - -“Light the fire, of course. Then I guess we’ll have a song or two, and -the Chief will introduce all the leaders, and somebody will tell a -story, and then we’ll burn all the little new greenhorns at the stake.” - -Blackie laughed as much as the joke required, and snuggled down next to -Wally, in the midst of the Tent Four group. The fire was lighted, and -the glow was reflected in the faces of the happy throng of campers who -gathered around the first campfire of the season. The boys of Tent Four, -already bound together by loyalty to their leader, were content to lie -and listen to the calm voice of their Chief, as a spout of flaring -sparks rose from the flames to challenge the distant glitter of the -stars. - - - - - CHAPTER III - AFTER TAPS - - -The musical echo of Tattoo came from the bugle, and a hush fell upon -Tent Four. The campfire still smouldered in the field by the lake, but -the campers had passed to their tents at the Call to Quarters, and were -now making ready to turn in for the night. - -Blackie squatted on his bunk and stared at the faces that were -half-illuminated by the solitary lantern that hung on the tent-pole. -Mindful of the pine-cones that were still in Ken Haviland’s bed, he was -lying low and watching for developments. - -The aide had already stripped, and was climbing into a swathing suit of -pajamas. Above him jutted the head of Lefkowitz, already between -blankets but still full of interest in proceedings. - -“I can’t find my nightgown,” wailed little Guppy at the other end of the -tent. - -“It should be under your pillow,” said Wally. He stretched his broad -arms and yawned prodigiously, making a noise like an enraged walrus. -“You ought to have pajamas anyway.” - -“I put it under the pillow, sir, as Ken told me to. I had an extra one, -but that’s gone too. And I promised Mother I wouldn’t sleep in my—my -underthings, sir.” - -“Well, they’ll probably turn up. For to-night you can have an extra pair -of my pajamas. I think the pants would be enough for you, though—you’re -not exactly a giant.” Wally produced a pair of outing-flannel pants, -stuffed the small Guppy into the legs of them, tied the cord about his -neck, and stowed him away between the blankets like a sack of potatoes. - -Ken was turning down the covers. Blackie watched him feel the blankets -all over, and to the joker’s disappointment, the aide touched several -suspicious bumps and resuscitated the hidden pine-cones. He tossed them -into the night, and winked at Blackie. - -“My camp experience has taught me to always feel my bed before I turn -in,” he grinned. “Some chaps have a funny sense of humor.” He hopped in -and sprawled out luxuriously. - -Now that his trap had failed, Blackie bethought him of turning in also. -Slater, who had been outside gazing at the stars, stepped into the tent. - -“Lots of meteorites falling to-night, sir,” he observed. “Venus is full, -too, I think; she’s especially bright in the west.” He set about his -preparations for bed. - -Gallegher made a spring and landed in his bunk, just over Blackie’s -head. A creaking from another upper bunk across the way announced that -Fat Crampton had at last been able to climb to his lofty berth. - -“Make it fast, Blackie,” warned the leader. “You don’t want to be the -last one in.” - -Blackie was soon arrayed in the popular evening clothes for the -well-dressed camper, and looked longingly at his inviting bunk. He -slipped between the warm blankets, and stretched out. Umm—this was the -life! - -But hold on! Something had him by the leg—something else was biting him -on the foot! Ouch! He yelled and rolled over the side, to come to the -floor in a whirling pile of boy, blankets, and—pine-cones! - -Gallegher snickered above him. - -“The oldest trick there is!” he chuckled. “These new guys will fall for -anything!” - -The crestfallen Blackie struggled upright, and in the dull lamplight -began to make his bed anew. - -“That will be all the demonstrations of playfulness for to-night, -gentlemen,” observed Wally, sitting on the edge of his bunk. “You are -all tired, and need your sleep—I, may it be observed, need mine also. -How anybody has the pep left to skylark around the first night of -camp—or any other night—is beyond me. As soon as Taps sounds, Tent Four -will be as still as the grave. The silence, as the book-writers always -have it, will be broken only by the measured breathing of the slumbering -woodsmen and the far call of a fillyloo bird across the waste. Key down, -now.” - -He reached for his kit and drew out a book. “I’m talking seriously now. -We are all up here at Lenape to have the best time ever. It’s my job as -councilor to see that we do. And that’s what I want to make you fellows -understand. I’ll help you in any way I can to keep you good campers and -to make Lenape proud of you. If at any time you have anything on your -mind, bring it to me and we’ll talk it out. Now, I’m going to read you -one of the finest things that a camper ever listened to.” - -He opened the Bible in his hand and read by the flickering light, in a -clear and sincere voice: “The heavens declare the glory of God; and the -firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night -unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where -their voice is not heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, -and their words to the end of the world. In them hath He set a -tabernacle for the sun, which is as a bridegroom coming out of his -chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race. His going forth is -from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and -there is nothing hid from the heat thereof. The law of the Lord is -perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making -wise the simple.” - -Softly and sweetly, as if from afar, came the first comforting notes of -Taps, the finest of music to a tired camper. Wally doused the lantern, -and the glory of the stars came into the quiet tent. - -“Good-night, fellows,” said Wally quietly. “Happy dreams!” - -Blackie lay quite still in his tumbled bed, thinking about the stars. -Firmament—that was a word that meant the same as heaven, but not so -nice-sounding. The stars were bright, all right. - -Gallegher must have put those cones into his bed, when he had been -chasing bunk-stretchers—it must have been Gallegher, because he had -laughed so hard when Blackie fell out. Well, so much the worse for Mr. -Gallegher! He was sleeping right above Blackie, and in the morning, Mr. -Gallegher would be surprised. He reached up one foot, tentatively, to -see how the airplane method would work in helping Gallegher to rise. The -temptation came, and he pushed upward with both feet, hard. - -Zoom! Gallegher flew into the air and came down to the floor with a wild -yell. The experiment was a success. Tent Four was instantly alert. - -Lefkowitz snickered. Slater moaned dolefully. Little Guppy said, “What’s -that?” - -Gallegher lay tumbled on the floor among his blankets. He had bruised -his elbow against a locker, and it made him mean-tempered. - -“Damn you!” he cried. “I’ll get even——” - -Through the dark came the calm voice of Wally. “You seem to have been -around a bunch of pretty foul-mouthed fellows, Gallegher. Gentlemen, and -especially Lenape gentlemen, don’t talk that way. Chain gang for you -Monday morning.” - -“I don’t care!” shouted Gallegher. “I’d say it again if he did that to -me. If Blackie was a gentleman, he wouldn’t have given me that airplane -ride. It’s his fault as much as mine. Why don’t you give him the chain -gang, too?” - -“Blackie!” - -“Yes, sir.” Blackie, chuckling happily to himself at the thought of the -row he had raised, sat up and leaned on one arm. - -“Didn’t I ask you and the other fellows to key down after Taps?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“All right. Take your blankets and go sleep on the ground by the -flagpole to-night.” - -“But why? I didn’t do a thing but get back at him for sticking -pine-cones in my bunk!” - -“On your way. When you can behave decently, you can sleep with the rest -of us again.” - -Sullenly, and making as much noise about it as he dared, Blackie put on -his slippers and gathered up his pillow and blankets over his arm. The -night air was cool, and he shivered slightly in his pajamas. A pine -tree’s branch brushed the canvas tent-roof above his head, and somewhere -off up the mountain a dog howled dismally. It didn’t look too inviting -out on the darkened campus by the flagpole; but he didn’t want to appear -a coward and whine to get out of going. - -“Good-night, you guys,” he said with bravado and stalked out of the rear -of the tent. As he passed the bunk across from the leader’s, on his way -out, Slater stuffed something among Blackie’s blankets with a whispered -caution. - -“Keep it out of sight—you’ve got the chance to get to the flagpole!” - -Blackie nodded and went out on the path. The stars were like bright -candles against a blue-green silk dome, and somehow their twinkling was -not so pleasant now. He passed a line of tents, some quiet, one or two -filled with low snickers and cackles and the usual disturbance of the -first night under canvas. The white lodge showed pale and strange in the -starlight; the campus was somehow changed from what it had been in -bright day. He stumbled across to the base of the flagpole and began -spreading out his bed on the hard ground. He cleared away one or two -stones, and beat down the high grass as best he could, and tried to -rearrange his blankets into comfortable shape. - -His next care was to examine the bundle that Slater had passed to him. -As he had guessed, it was the missing nightgown that Guppy had bewailed -at bedtime. He chuckled, thinking of the scheme that Slater had -suggested. - -He looked around; the coast was clear. The flagpole was only a few steps -away. He jumped up, unfastened the halyards, and knotting a sleeve to -each end of the rope, hauled away. Then, almost too sleepy to care where -he lay, he crawled into his twisted bed and was dead to the world in -half a minute, smiling to think that when the morning sun rose over Camp -Lenape, it would reveal that the campers had slept under a fluttering -ensign that was nothing more than little Guppy’s pink nightgown. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - A HARD CASE - - -Blackie was wakened somewhat rudely the next morning. A sloshing glass -of cold water landed on his face, and he jumped up half-awake to find -Gil Shelton standing over him in the fresh sunlight with the empty glass -in his hand. - -“Rise and shine!” called the patrol-leader. “First Call will sound in -about a minute. Gee, you must have been sawing wood not to hear the -noise the gang has been making ever since four o’clock this morning! -Most of the tenderfeet woke up early and have been horsing around. I -couldn’t sleep, so Chink Towner and Spaghetti Megaro and I got -permission to hike down to the cottage and back. Look at the big frog we -found by the brook!” - -He held up a monstrous bullfrog by the hind legs, so close to Blackie’s -face that he jumped backwards in alarm, while Gil’s two companions -laughed. - -“Don’t let him scare you,” said Megaro, the Italian boy. - -“I ain’t afraid. Say, what are you going to do with him, Gil?” - -“Give him to Ellick—he likes to eat frog legs. Come on, here comes -Fellowes with his tin horn ready to blow First Call.” - -Blackie picked up his bed and made his way to Tent Four. All his -tent-mates were awake and laughing at little Guppy, who had just -discovered that his nightgown was floating in the breeze at the top of -the flagpole. The bugle’s call routed them all out to formation in front -of the lodge, where after a snappy setting-up drill the entire camp flew -down the slope to the boat dock for the Indian dip. - -The blue waters of the lake reflected a hundred white bodies standing -about the edge of the dock waiting for Wally’s whistle. No sooner had it -sounded than there was a tremendous plunging and splashing as most of -them tumbled head-first into the crisp, bracing water. A few younger -boys and timid souls waded in from the shore. - -“Stick your head under, Toots!” - -“Oh, boy! Say, ain’t this water cold?” - -“It ain’t cold, you dummy. Just the way I like it—wakes me up fine!” - -Blackie took a swift racing dive off the front end of the dock, swept -cleanly through the water in a shower of small bubbles, and came to the -surface with a speedy overhand stroke. He swam some fifty yards out to -the life-saving boat that was stationed there with Sax McNulty at the -oars and a leader named Munson at the bow, and there floated a minute. -He was surprised to hear the trill of the whistle, followed by cries of -“All out!” - -Swimming over to the dock again, he shouted in a grieved tone to Wally, -who was supervising the general exodus from the water, “What’s the idea, -Wally? Do you call this a swim?” - -“Of course not—this is just morning dip, and you’ll get a chill if you -stay in long. Swim comes later.” - -“Aw, heck!” Somewhat disgruntled, he climbed out and raced back to the -tent to dress for breakfast. - -The morning meal over, there was a period of duty. “We’re on police -squad, you fellows!” called Ken Haviland. - -“Police?” asked Blackie. “What do we do—go around arresting guys?” - -“No, you sap. Get a blanket and I’ll show you.” - -Blackie discovered that policing camp merely meant going about the -campus and picking up bits of paper and destroying unsightly objects -that littered the paths. Church Call sounded soon after they finished, -and together with the rest of the campers he went to a shady glade in -the forest beside the lake and sat on a log while the short Sunday -service was held. He liked sitting there in the leafy woods and singing -the various tunes, even though they were the same ones they sang in -Sunday-school at home; he admired the handiwork of the rustic pulpit -that the campers had built the year before; but when the Chief began his -talk he was frankly bored. The Chief was saying something about -different trees and how they were like different kinds of boys; but -Blackie only listened now and then. He was wishing that church was over -and that they could go in swimming again; and he passed the time -catching ants and dropping them down the neck of a smaller boy who sat -in front of him. - -As a matter of fact the service was quite brief; but it seemed to him -that it would never end. After years of waiting, or so he thought, the -brisk challenge of Swim Call came from the lodge porch, and slipping -into his bathing suit, he headed again for the dock. He was the first -one there, with the exception of the life-saving crew, composed equally -of councilors and older boys who had won the Red Cross emblem that was -stitched over their breasts. Wally was in charge; he was sending out -three boats to patrol the waters about the dock and posting the guards -who would stand in various places about the tower to be on the watch for -water accidents. When this was done, the man turned to Blackie. - -“First one down for swim? Say, if you’d only show as much speed doing -squad-duty, the rest of the fellows wouldn’t have to do a thing!” - -“Can I go in now, Wally?” - -“You’ll have to hold yourself down until the rest get here and the -whistle blows. The rule is that there’s no swimming except when the -life-savers are on duty. There aren’t going to be any accidents while -I’m in charge. By the way, I noticed this morning at Indian dip that -you’re not a bad swimmer.” - -“I’m pretty good, I guess,” said Blackie modestly. - -“Do you know the Australian crawl? No? Well, if you want to make speed, -that’s the stroke to use. The camp always holds a big boat regatta and -swimming meet at the end of each section—that’s two weeks from now—and -we compete with our old rivals of Camp Shawnee. I’d like to see you take -a few honors and help us to beat them. What say I teach you the crawl -some time?” - -“Now?” - -“To-morrow, maybe. Well, here comes the gang!” He turned away as the -crowd of campers, all in swimming togs, trooped on to the dock, and at -the sound of his whistle the swim began. - -Blackie sported about the water happily for the remainder of the period. -He was quite pleased with himself for having thus been singled out by -his leader for swimming ability. Tired of circling about the life-boats, -he began ducking less experienced swimmers and pushing boys off the dock -into the water, until he was reprimanded for this conduct by Lieutenant -Eames because of the danger of someone slipping and injuring himself -against one of the piles or the superstructure of the dock. This -scolding made him sulky, and he swam by himself until the whistle blew, -and then tardily walked up to the tent, stopping many times on the way -to chase butterflies or to hunt for snakes among the rocks; and thus, -when he finally reached the tent, he found his comrades working busily. -All the beds were made except his own, and under the direction of Ken -Haviland, the boys were sweeping and arranging, cleaning the tent -lantern, putting their lockers in order, and tidying up the place. - -“Where have you been?” the aide greeted him. “Snap out of it and get -dressed and make your bunk and get ready for inspection. Wally had to go -up to leaders’ meeting at the lodge.” - -“Aw, don’t make such a fuss,” said Blackie. “I’ll do it, won’t I?” - -“Yes, but we have only a couple minutes before inspection. If the tent -isn’t in apple-pie order, we don’t stand a chance to win the pennant -to-day.” - -“Well, what if we don’t? What’s the good of having an old pennant in -front of your tent? It don’t get you anything.” - -“But don’t you see it means that the Tent Four bunch are the best -campers? When you’re here longer you’ll learn not to waste time talking -back when we have a chance to show our stuff.” - -Without haste, Blackie peeled off his swimming suit and cast it on the -floor, dressed with tantalizing slowness, and with a scowl at the aide, -began to make his bed. He knew that Haviland was angry and thought it a -good chance to get the tall camper’s “goat.” In the midst of his -preparations the call came down the line, “All out of tents for -inspection!” Haviland and the others jumped outside and lined up at -attention, but Blackie delayed to try and shake his blankets into shape. -Just as he stepped outside, Mr. Colby, one of the councilors and a -scoutmaster known for his strictness, came along with his inspection -staff. - -“Tent Four! Two demerits for having a camper inside the tent after -inspection call. The tent seems to be in pretty good shape, but there’s -a wet bathing suit in the middle of the floor, and one bunk that isn’t -made. Sorry, Haviland—but this will give you so many demerits that -you’ll probably get the booby prize to-day! Any excuse?” - -“No excuse, sir,” answered Haviland, looking daggers at the guilty -Blackie. After the inspection crew had passed on, he turned to Blackie -and said, “We would have had a good chance at the pennant if it hadn’t -been for you! As it is, we’ll probably have the booby can tied to our -tent-pole until to-morrow! What do you say, fellows—shall I recommend -that Wally puts him on the chain gang?” - -“Put me on the gang if you want to—I don’t care!” exclaimed Blackie -boldly; but he was silent all during dinner, and even fried chicken, -green corn and ice-cream failed to make him forget that his careless -attitude had won him the black looks of all his tent-mates. - -After the meal there was the usual siesta period. The boys were -scattered about lying in their bunks, resting and writing letters home. -Blackie crouched in his place with a pencil and pad before him. Haviland -sat across from him, now and then looking gloomily up at a big tin can, -painted black with the white letters BOOBY across it, which hung -swinging in plain sight over the front steps. Slater was writing busily. -Fat Crampton was asleep, and Gallegher was tickling the stout boy’s nose -and neck with a stalk of grass, while Guppy and Lefkowitz watched the -proceedings with amusement. - -Blackie looked down at what he had written. “Dear Mother—We got here O. -K. and Camp Lenape is a fine camp. I am on the Chain Gang already and -the swimming is O. K. I will learn the Ostralien crawl soon please send -me up some fudge and cake. Last night I slep out-door. I think this is a -fine camp o boy and don’t forget the fudge and cake and some chewing gum -too.” - -He read this over for the fifth time, wondered what to put down next, -and looked up to find Haviland watching him. - -“What’s biting you?” Blackie asked. “Still sore because you didn’t win -your old pennant?” - -“It’s not myself I’m worrying about, but after dinner I heard a couple -of the other leaders kidding Wally because he is always so proud of -having his tent make a good showing, and to-day we were handed the merry -razz.” - -Blackie snorted. “Say, who is this guy Wally that he should boss us -around? Always blowing his whistle just when the water’s getting good!” - -“Yeah,” put in Gallegher, who had finally succeeded in awakening Fat -Crampton. “Down our way all the guys would think he was sure a sissy, -landin’ on me just because I cussed a little.” - -“He wouldn’t give me seconds on ice-cream, either,” said Fat Crampton -mournfully. “Said I ought to start to reduce.” - -Ken looked at them all pityingly. “Say, don’t you know Wally is a senior -at Columbia University and on the varsity water-polo and basketball -teams? He’s coming up here and spending his time teaching you birds how -to be good campers, and that’s all the thanks he gets!” - -“I guess he has a pretty good time,” said Blackie. - -“Of course he does, or he wouldn’t be here. But it’s no fun to have a -tent full of lazy draw-backs like you that object every time he tries to -make a good showing.” - -There was a short space of silence. Slater looked up from his writing. - -“Hey, Ken, do we have council ring to-night?” he asked. - -“Sure.” - -“What’s council ring?” asked Blackie curiously. - -Slater explained. “Just when it’s getting dark, we all put on blankets -and go over to council, just like the Indians used to do. We all sit in -a circle around a four-square fire, and one of the fellows lights the -fire with flint and steel, or else with rubbing-sticks. Then we have -report of scouts. Any fellow who has seen any interesting birds or -animals or anything like that gets up and tells about them. Then we -suggest anything we can do to help make the camp better and offer to do -it. Then they have all kinds of contests—hand-wrestling and talk-fests -and imitations, and usually end up with a ghost story. It’s real fun, -all right.” - -Blackie remembered that Gil had pointed out the way to the council ring -the evening before, and suddenly thought he would like to see the place -by daylight. He put away his letter, rose, and stretched. - -“So long, you guys,” he said. - -“Where are you going?” asked the aide. “Nobody’s allowed to leave until -after Recall.” - -“None of your business—and if you ask me, I think you’re nothing but a -spy on us for this Wally of yours.” He dived into the bushes and -disappeared before Haviland could follow. - -Not only did he want the fun of tormenting Ken, but also wishing to look -over the famous council ring, he took a course through the woods that he -thought would bring him out at the place he sought. It was quiet; the -camp was still even for a Sunday afternoon. He pressed through the -underbrush and in a short time stumbled upon a well-worn path that led -in the direction he was going. Shortly he caught a glimpse of white -birch railings through the leaves, and he trod softly in case there -should be anyone there who might question him. His precaution proved to -be wise. From a clearing ahead came the low hum of men’s voices. - -A circle some fifty yards across had been cleared in the woods, and -seats built about it, with an imposing stone dais on the north side to -furnish a proper elevation for the chieftain. Sitting on this stone were -the Chief himself and Wally Rawn, chatting together. - -They had not seen him, and it struck Blackie that it might be a daring -thing to get close enough to overhear their conference. Forgetful of the -old saying that eavesdroppers seldom hear well of themselves, he wormed -his way around through the bushes and found a place where he could -listen without being seen. - -“I approve of the life-saving crew assignments you’ve made, then, -Wally,” the Chief was saying. He rose as if to leave. “By the way, what -do you think of the bunch I’ve put in your tent?” - -“They look pretty good,” answered Wally. “They ought to turn out -first-rate after a couple of days. Haviland is a pretty capable kid, and -Slater is bugs about stars and scouting and doesn’t give much trouble. -That Crampton lad is lazy, but I hope to have him get over that when we -get out on the hikes.” - -“You have two fellows I put in with you because they need pretty careful -leadership. Know who they are?” - -“Think I do, Chief—Gallegher and that Blackie Thorne.” - -“Right. Gallegher comes from the worst part of town, and I think he may -have picked up a lot of questionable habits. Thorne is a different sort. -He’s lively and smart as a whip; but his father is dead and maybe he’s -getting to be too much for his mother to handle alone. He’s full of -mischief, his scoutmaster tells me, but he ought to turn out right. -They’re a pair of hard cases, I guess; but keep them busy and they’ll -soon be real Lenape fellows.” - -“I like hard cases,” grinned Wally. “Blackie is crazy about swimming; -guess I can get him interested through that, and the old camp spirit is -bound to follow. Well, let’s get back.” - -The two men, arm in arm, disappeared down the path. Blackie Thorne, in -his hidden covert, laughed unpleasantly at their backs. - -“Hard case, am I?” he said to himself. “Well, Mr. Smart Wally, if you -call me that, I guess all I can do is to try and live up to it!” - - - - - CHAPTER V - TREASURE - - -“This chain gang ain’t so bad,” remarked Gallegher. - -It was after breakfast on Monday morning. He and Blackie, as well as -three other culprits, were chopping wood behind the camp kitchen with -the supervision and assistance of Jim Avery, a tall, gangling councilor -who was a specialist in woodcraft and bird-study. - -Blackie split up a knotty stick of oak before replying. - -“Sure, this ain’t such hard work. The leader does half of it, anyway. -Say, you were pretty good, to cuss right in front of Wally the other -night.” - -“Aw, that’s nothin’. I guess I’m pretty tough, all right. I used to go -down by the railroad lots of times and hook rides on the freight cars. -Once I bummed clear out to Scranton and back, that way.” - -“Gee! No wonder the Chief said you was a hard case!” - -Gallegher stopped his chopping, and looked up proudly. “Did he say -that?” - -“Yeah. I heard him talking to our noble councilor about us. He said we -were both hard cases, and that Wally would have to watch us.” - -“Well, if that’s the way they do in this camp, I’m sure goin’ to get -away with everything I can. How about it—are you with me, Thorne?” - -“Sure.” - -They split wood for a while in silence. Blackie’s back began to ache -from stooping over so much. He dropped his ax and stretched. - -“Gosh, I’m getting sick of this job. When Jim lets us go, I’m going to -head for my bunk and stay there the rest of the day.” - -“Say, what did you come to camp for—to be a bunk-stretcher?” asked -Gallegher. “They’re goin’ to have tests for the honor emblem this -mornin’—ain’t you goin’ to try for one?” - -“What’s the honor emblem? What good is it?” - -“Aw, you have to pass a lot of tests, and then they give you a badge to -sew on your jersey. You’ve seen them—lots of the guys have won them.” - -“You mean the things with a swastika and a big L on them? What do you -get for it?” - -“Say, don’t be dumb all your life! If a guy has an honor emblem he can -join the Bugs Society and have an initiation and a feed, and then he can -get away with lots of things, just because he’s got a badge, see? It’s -somethin’ like the Knights of Columbus.” - -“Oh. What did you say you have to do to get one?” - -“A bunch of things, like knowin’ the names of the parts of a boat and -bein’ good at hikin’ and swimmin’ and athaletics——” - -“That’s me. I can do all those things.” - -“—And collect flowers and tree leaves and rocks, and know the names of -the stars, and box the compass, and cook a meal, and build cabins and do -stunts—a whole lot of stuff. We can do it easy.” - -Blackie considered this, and after his work was done he joined a nature -hike. During the hour before swim, he learned much that he had not -previously known about geology and ferns, and collected the ten leaves -he must identify as one of the qualifications toward his honor emblem. - -Since overhearing Wally and the Chief in the council ring, his attitude -toward his leader had changed. He now thought of Wally as an irksome -guardian and taskmaster, and found excuses for himself to disagree with -every suggestion the councilor made. Nevertheless, he remembered Wally’s -promise of the previous day, and after all the other campers had come -out of the water after swim, he touched Wally on the arm and reminded -him that he was to be taught the Australian crawl. - -The life-saving crew now had its brief moment of fun. They were having a -game of water-tag about the boats and up the diving-tower. Blackie -thought it great sport to be with them, and under Wally’s direction to -seem one of the outfit that was so much at home in deep water. He kept -one eye on their antics and with the other watched Wally Rawn -demonstrate the approved method of breathing with the crawl stroke that -sent him plowing through the sunlit water at a speedy rate. Then it came -Blackie’s turn to show what he had learned, while Wally stood on the -dock and shouted directions. - -“That’s right—take a breath every fourth stroke, and let it out under -water! Don’t use that frog kick—use the trudgeon! Keep your fingers -together! That’s the way.” - -At first Blackie found it hard to get the correct timing for his -breaths, but after some twenty minutes Wally called a halt and put an -end to the lesson for the day, pronouncing himself well satisfied with -the boy’s progress. - -“If we keep on like this, you ought to win a couple first places in the -Shawnee meet, Blackie. I’ll give you some diving instruction later on—I -think I’ll give all the fellows in the tent a chance to learn a few -jack-knives and swan dives.” - -“What do we get if we win?” asked Blackie. - -“Award ribbons, and lots of glory for Lenape. What more do you want? -You’re pretty young yet, kid—but I hope it won’t be long before you find -out that the biggest rewards in life are the ones you don’t get paid -for. Money or silver cups or ice-cream don’t begin to compare with the -ownership of an alert mind, a strong, clean, healthy body, fine -friendships, and a reputation for honor and manliness and courage. Do -you know there’s a treasure buried here on the Lenape campus?” - -Blackie was aglow on the instant. “Where? Do you know where to dig for -it? Is it a pirate treasure? Let me help you hunt for it, Wally!” - -The man smiled. “There you go again—always on the lookout for a selfish, -personal gain! The treasure I mean isn’t made of Spanish doubloons and -stolen jewels; but it’s here, waiting for every boy to find it for -himself. If you’ve got the right stuff in you, Blackie, and I think you -have, you can take that treasure home with you when you leave camp. It’s -a treasure you wouldn’t want to trade for anything else in the world—the -treasure of a true Lenape spirit.” - -Blackie’s visions of delving in the dead of night for a glittering hoard -in a pirate chest vanished. Somewhat downcast, he muttered, “Aw, don’t -preach! Just the same, I sure would like to take home a bunch of money -that I found up here.” - -“Well, stranger things have happened. Guess your mother would be proud -if you did.” - -“Sure! It would help a lot; we don’t have much money since Dad left us. -You see, she runs a little store and sells sewing things and fancy -embroidery and stuff like that.” - -Wally nodded. “Did you ever stop to think how much she is sacrificing to -give you a good time camping up here in the woods?” - -“I guess so,” said Blackie uncomfortably. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be -late to-day—we don’t want to get the booby prize for inspection twice in -a row.” - -“That’s the spirit!” - - - - - CHAPTER VI - THE HERMIT’S HOUSE - - -That night after supper, when the whistle had shrilled for silence, -Happy Face Frayne, who was officer of the day, made announcement of the -evening’s program. “We still have lots of daylight left after supper, so -we have planned a few short hikes before dark. Then, after that, we’ll -gather here in the lodge around the fire and have some songs and -stories.” - -“Hurray!” - -“Mr. Munson will take a group up the mountain road to the Devil’s Potato -Patch. Mr. Colby will head a boating expedition to the dam at the end of -the lake, while those who want to visit Rattlesnake Joe, the hermit, -will report to Dr. Cannon. Those who stay in camp can have a rousing -game of volley ball—Long Jim Avery and Lieutenant Eames will choose -sides.” - -“Hurray!” - -“Dismissed!” - -“Where you going, you crazy Irishman?” Blackie asked his bosom friend -Gallegher when they were outside. - -“Me? I’m goin’ to start out with the bunch up the mountain, and then -lose myself. You want to come?” He winked significantly. - -“What are you going to do?” - -“You’ll see, if you come with me. We’ll get away from these babies and -have a good time of our own.” - -“All right. Hi, Gil!” shouted Blackie, as his patrol-leader passed by. -“Where you heading?” - -“Up the lake. Say, you remember when we hiked the short way to camp the -first night we came up? You remember that house you asked me about? -Well, now’s your chance to see it closer. That’s where the hermit lives, -and he’s a queer old bird if there ever was one.” - -At Gil’s words the picture of that secret, sinister house on the -mountainside, as Blackie had first glimpsed it, came back to him. - -“That’s right—thanks for reminding me. I’m sorry, Irish—I’ll sneak off -with you some other time.” - -He slipped away and joined the group around Dr. Cannon, the camp medico, -at the lodge steps. There were some fifteen or twenty campers who -clamored about the short, sturdy figure of the doctor, deluging him with -questions about their destination. - -“The old hermit, Rattlesnake Joe, is one of the sights of this part of -the country,” he said, quieting them with a gesture. “I don’t need to -tell you anything more—you’ll see him for yourselves soon enough. Keep -together—forward, march!” - -The boys straggled behind him as he led the way around behind the -kitchen and the ice-house and on past the Red Cross tent to the road. -Blackie marched in company with the Utway twins and a shock-haired -“two-striper” nicknamed “Sunfish” because he had once fallen out of a -canoe and when he was pulled up on the dock, it was discovered that he -had unwittingly trapped a good-sized sunfish in one of the pockets of -his sweater. - -The hikers turned off to the right where the road turned up the -mountain, and headed down a marshy lane bounded with a stone fence on -each side. The small, stinging deer-flies swarmed about their heads, and -Jerry Utway, one of the twins, showed Blackie how to fasten a -handkerchief around his head so that it would flutter and keep the -bothersome insects at a distance. - -“See that tree?” asked the Sunfish. - -Blackie nodded. - -“Well, that’s a black birch tree—the kind they make birch beer from. -Some time I’ll show you how to tap it and get a drink of the sap—it -tastes great. Here, take this twig and chew on it. Doesn’t it taste -something like sassafras?” - -“Come on—we’ll be back with Elephant Crampton in a minute,” urged Jake, -the other of the twins. “Hurry up if you kids want to see the old hermit -before dark.” - -They increased their pace, and caught up with the vanguard about Dr. -Cannon just as the mysterious house came into sight at the end of the -lane. Surrounded by the shouting company of the campers, Blackie was not -so awed by the place as he had been when, alone with Gil, he had -glimpsed it from afar on his first memorable evening in camp. There were -the same weathered shingles on the low roof, the same dirty windows and -decaying out-houses—but it did not seem so unreal and awful now. - -On their approach they were announced by the furious baying and howling -of half a dozen hounds that leaped and pulled at their chains beside a -rickety kennel by the door. The campers drew back, hoping with all their -hearts that none of the dogs would break loose. The door was flung open, -and a tall old man stamped out and began quieting the hounds, beating -their heads with a stick until they subsided, whimpering. Then he turned -and gazed strangely at the group of boys, shading his eyes against the -slanting rays of sunset. - -“Wal, now,” he said after a minute, “if it ain’t the Doctor and the -camp-ground boys. How be ye, Doc?” He extended a dirty and claw-like -hand. Blackie was near enough to notice that the finger-nails were all -about half an inch long, broken, ragged, and encrusted with mold. - -Indeed, as Blackie watched him shake hands with Dr. Cannon and step back -to lounge in the doorway, he seemed a far from attractive personality. -He was probably sixty years old, with a tall, stoop-shouldered body. He -leaned slouchily against the rough doorpost, and the blackened fingers -of one hand nervously combed a ragged and greasy beard that was streaked -with gray. The same tangled gray prevailed in the straggling hair that -crawled from beneath his battered felt hat, and in the discouraged -mustache that drooped to mingle with the beard. The hermit’s eyes were -bleared by sitting beside a smoky fire, and were overhung by bushy -brows. Now and then, as he talked, he would profanely quiet the hounds -at his feet, who, it must be admitted, were far more intelligent and far -cleaner than their master. - -“Glad ye’ve come, boys,” he drawled. “Allus glad to see boys here. Glad -to see anybody. I been livin’ all alone here five year now come fall, -sence my boy Jase left me to go over and cut ties in Pike County. Good -boy, Jase was, but him and me couldn’t get along right well together. -Say, Doc, when ye get back to camp-ground ye kin give Ellick and the -Chief my regards fer sendin’ up that sack of flour last week. Shore did -enj’y it.” - -“We thought you might,” said the doctor. “These boys wanted to take a -little hike to-night, and I brought them up to call on you.” - -“Thet’s fine—allus glad to see boys. Well, boys, guess ye want to see my -old thunderbolt, don’t ye? I allus show all the boys that thunderbolt——” -He entered his house and with a long knife pried up a flat flagstone, -one of those forming the hearth before his fireplace. Blackie saw him -kneeling in a shaft of sunlight beside the cold embers, and watched -until he drew forth from its hiding-place what seemed to be a long, -thin, slate-colored piece of stone or iron. The hermit brought it out -and passed it around for all to see. It was pitted and twisted, like a -short iron bar that had been exposed to rough use and rust for years. - -“Thet’s my thunderbolt,” the hermit explained. “Ten year ago come August -we had a whackin’ big storm—black clouds piled high over the hills here -till it looked like midnight. All of a sudden, bang! comes a big blast -of lightnin’, and hit thet old oak tree out thar—it was a big tree then, -but it’s only a stump now. After the storm was all over I come out thar -and saw this stuck right in the middle of the tree—had to cut it out -with my old ax. Look at it close, young fellers—ye don’t get a chance to -see a reg’lar thunderbolt every day.” - -The boys hurriedly passed the famous object from hand to hand, for it -was suddenly growing dark and the doctor had announced that it was time -to leave. Blackie was not at all regretful to leave the neighborhood of -that ruined house, which became more unfriendly as the long shadows of -the pines barred and striped its mouldering walls. - -“How long has he lived here?” he asked Dr. Cannon as they hiked on the -return journey at a rapid pace. - -“All his life, I guess,” was the reply. “He makes a poor living, cutting -railroad ties and raising a few pigs and chickens—just enough to scrape -along on. It just shows you what a life of ignorance and dirt can do to -a man.” - -“Was that a true story about his thunderbolt?” - -“There aren’t really any bolts thrown down during a thunderstorm. That -thing he had may be what is called a belemnite, or maybe just a piece of -meteoric iron he found, and made up the story about it afterward.” - -On the return trip Jerry Utway discovered a patch of gooseberries. He -and his brother and Blackie and Sunfish clustered about and found a few -berries that had ripened. - -“Well, Blackie,” said Sunfish, talking with his mouth full, “guess you -won’t feel so lively to-morrow night.” - -“Why? What’s going to happen?” - -“Stuck-Ups.” - -“What’s that?” - -The two-striper put his thumbs in his ears and waggled his fingers -mysteriously. “You’ll see,” he said meaningly. “They initiate all the -new campers then. Big secret society; everybody tries to join, but they -don’t always stand the tortures.” - -“Do they have real good tortures at this camp?” asked Jake. “We joined -up at Camp Coutrell last year, so we don’t have to get initiated here. -Oh, boy! We were black and blue for a week afterwards!” - -“What do they do to a guy?” asked Blackie. - -“You’ll find out. The Grand Mogul makes the neophytes—the new guys—do -all sorts of things and go through all kinds of tortures.” - -“I won’t do it,” announced Blackie, with a sudden sinking of the heart. - -“Oh, you’ll have to, if you want to be one of the society. After you get -in, it’s lots of fun helping to initiate the ones that join after you -do. And some day, maybe you can work up to be one of the officers, like -the Exalted Overseers of the Rabble or the Supreme Potent Inquisitors or -the Sublunary Administers of the Last Rites.” - -“That sounds fine, but I don’t want to be black and blue for a week. -Can’t you get in without being tortured?” - -“Oh, no!” said Sunfish. “A guy has to go through perils and trials -before he ever amounts to anything in the world. Come on—we’ll be the -last ones in camp as it is.” - -The four hastened after that. A few hundred yards from camp they came -upon Fat Crampton, weary but still determined, and cheered him with the -news that the tents were not far away. Through the trees was borne the -rollicking chorus of the singers gathered about the fireplace in the -lodge, united in good fellowship and roaring out the lilting words of -the Lenape marching song: - - “Oh, I’ve travelled the world from shore to shore - And sailed on every sea, - But there ain’t no spot in the whole darned lot - Like old Camp Le-na-pe!” - - - - - CHAPTER VII - INITIATION - - -The coming initiation ceremony of the Stuck-Up Society was the chief -subject of conversation during Tuesday. Many were the direful hints and -bloodthirsty tales that the new campers heard from the lips of seasoned -Lenape boys, who, of course, were all members of the society and who -were all occupied in getting out their regalia and ceremonial weapons in -preparation for the big night. - -Immediately after the supper dishes were washed, the lodge was cleared -of all except the dozen members of the society who had been chosen to -arrange the mess-hall as the Throne Room. Blackie, sitting on the steps -in front of his tent, could hear a prodigious thumping and running and -hurly-burly inside the lodge, but could see nothing, because blankets -had been hung over all the windows and the door was guarded. He was -gravely watching Slater, who had been initiated the year before. The -red-headed boy was putting the finishing touches on a war-club he had -just made, meanwhile whistling the Funeral March in a dolorous key. - -“How’s that?” he asked, whirling the formidable club by its thong. “When -you’re a member, you can bear one of these at initiations too.” - -“Say, how do you make one of those clubs?” asked Blackie. - -“First you find a nice little white birch tree. You dig it up and cut it -off about two feet above the roots; then you peel it around the base and -sharpen the roots. Then you can cut your mark and decorations and -designs on the bark, like this. If you soak it in water soon after it’s -cut, it gives it this nice, red, bloody color.” - -“All loyal Stuck-Ups come to the Throne Room!” came a call through the -megaphone on the lodge porch. - -“So long,” said Slater. “I’ve got to go up now. I’ll see you later. Take -my advice and don’t get fresh with the Grand Mogul, or it’ll be all the -worse for you.” - -He departed, swinging his club with gusto. Blackie left to join the -group of new campers who were gathered under the big black-cherry tree -by the baseball field to await the summons to their doom. There were -about forty of them; among them he found many he knew, mostly boys who -had never spent a season at Lenape. Lefkowitz, Guppy, Fat Crampton, and -Gallegher were those from Tent Four who, beside himself, were to prepare -to undergo the awful ordeal. They sat about nervously on the stone -fence, trying to reassure themselves by bold talk and a great deal of -forced laughter. - -“Here they come!” shouted one boy after a while, and instantly there was -silence. All eyes were turned to watch the approach of the Outer Guard, -which consisted of four older boys marching toward them in formation. -Each one of them wore nothing but a towel caught about his hips and -knotted on the side, and fantastic peaked hats some three feet high that -had been made by wetting an ordinary felt hat and pulling it over the -end of a baseball bat until the crown had stretched to a high point. The -faces and bodies of the Guard were barbarically daubed and streaked with -colored grease-paint, and each bore over his shoulder a broad-bladed -canoe paddle. - -They solemnly halted beside the secretly trembling neophytes, and -“Kipper” Dabney, who was in charge, spoke in hollow tones: “Line up by -the alphabet—those with names beginning with A are in front. You are all -about to undergo the dread inquisition of the Omnipotent Stuck-Up -Society. Meditate upon your benighted souls, and ponder how best you can -serve the spirit of Lenape!” - -He counted off the first four boys in the line, and marched them away to -the lodge porch. Blackie saw Dabney give a secret knock and a password; -the portals of the Throne Room unclosed; there was a flourish of -trumpets, and then an ominous silence that lasted until the Outer Guard -again came to take four more aspirants to the great hall of the society. - -Four by four, Blackie Thorne saw his fellows vanish into the echoing -Throne Room. He was almost at the end of the line, and did not know -whether to be pleased or sorry that he would be one of the last to be -initiated; but Fat Crampton went with the second bunch, and both Guppy -and Gallegher with the fourth. Blackie was surprised to see the latter, -about twenty minutes after he had entered, ejected somewhat roughly -through the door and escorted down the steps by two stalwart guards. - -“What’s the matter?” he called. “What did they do to you, Irish?” - -“Aw, they booted me out of their old society!” mumbled Gallegher. “They -let that little squirt Guppy stay in, though. Guess I didn’t bow down -and lick their boots enough to suit ’em.” - -“Key down, you!” ordered one of the guards. “You have been told to go to -your tent. You, Thorne, get back in line and wait your turn.” - -Blackie returned to his place, wondering at this new development. -Gallegher had failed to pass the trials for some reason; evidently the -Stuck-Ups did not accept everybody. But he figured that he was at least -as clever as Nightshirt Guppy and could stand any test they might put to -him. - -At last there were only three neophytes left under the -cherry-tree—Blackie, a younger boy named “Peanut” Westover, and Slim -Yerkes. Peanut had grown more and more timid as the minutes passed, and -at last ventured to address the others in quavering tones. - -“Do—do you think they’re going to hurt us much?” - -“Maybe,” said Blackie. “Who cares if they do?” - -“I sneaked my pillow out here with me,” confessed the boy, “and stuffed -it in the seat of my trousers. Some of the kids said they paddle you -something awful.” - -“Well, we’re in for it now,” said Yerkes, pointing. “Here come the -guards for us.” - -The three neophytes were surrounded by the serious-faced paddle-bearers -and marched up the steps to the porch. Blackie assumed a careless -expression to conceal his inward misgivings, and whistled with as much -bravado as he could muster. - -Knock! Knock! Knock! Kipper Dabney whispered a password through the -keyhole, the door swung open, and they were marched inside. Two boys -with sashes about their waists, whom Blackie recognized as Ted Fellowes -and his younger brother, put pennant-hung bugles to their lips and blew -a clarion call that set the rafters ringing. The huge room was dark -except for a space in front of the empty fireplace, where a row of -lanterns shed a yellow glare which, however, did not reveal the faces of -three men who sat, robed in blankets, upon a high dais made of benches -piled one upon the other. About the circle the grotesquely-costumed -members of the society sat in grim silence, nursing their war-clubs and -looking with threatening anticipation at the three newcomers. - -From the darkness came the gruesome chords of the Funeral March, played -on the concealed piano; and down an aisle in the center of the seated -initiates proceeded the guarded trio. Peanut Westover was shivering with -fear, and his knees were knocking together at every step. With a roll of -drums they arrived before the dais, and were lined up facing the almost -indistinguishable robed figures of the Grand Master and his two -potentates. - -“Three more rash neophytes who would dare the wrath of the honorable -Stuck-Up Society,” announced Kipper in a sepulchral voice, and with a -deep salaam he stepped back and left the three candidates together in -the middle of the lighted space. Blackie could feel everyone’s eyes upon -him, and he had a tingling, shaky feeling somewhere inside; but he -resolved that not one of them should think for a minute that he was -afraid. - -The Grand Mogul upon his throne said nothing, but surveyed the three -boys before him with tantalizing deliberateness. Finally he spoke. - -“You have signified your desire to enroll your unworthy names upon the -laurel-crowned roster of the honorable Stuck-Up Society. In order to win -to the gates of Glory you must first slay the Dragon of Selfishness, -defeat the Giant of Fear and arm yourselves with the Helmet of -Knowledge, the Spear of Courage, and the Sword of Justice. Are you ready -to make the trial?” - -He looked at Peanut at the end of the line, and the boy quavered, -“Y-Y-Yes.” - -“_Sir!_” roared the entire group within the lodge, bellowing with all -their might and beating their clubs upon the resounding floor. - -“Y-Y-Yes, sir,” said Peanut, more frightened than ever. - -“What is your name?” asked the inquisitor. - -“P-P-Peanut, sir.” - -“You have a most suspicious bulge in your trousers. Please remove the -padding, Master Seneschal.” - -A boy stepped forth and removed the pillow that Peanut had placed where -he thought it would do the most good, while the circle of campers roared -with laughter at his predicament. - -“Let’s see how smart you are, Peanut,” commanded the Grand Mogul. “Spell -your name with a sneeze and a hiccough.” - -Peanut looked bewildered. Blackie nudged him and whispered, loud enough -for everybody to hear, “Go ahead, kid—he won’t hurt you. He’s only Sax -McNulty dressed up a little.” - -The crowd gasped, horrified at such unheard-of impudence from a -candidate. - -“One bell!” said the Mogul solemnly, looking gravely at the offender. -Off at one side, a dishpan struck with a drumstick resounded once with a -hollow clang. “Now—go on, Peanut.” - -Taking courage, the smaller boy began: “P—achoo!—E—hup!—A—choo!—N——” - -“That will do. Now get down on the floor and scramble like an egg.” - -Peanut gave the best imitation of an egg in the process of being -scrambled that he could muster. When he had finished, Sax ordered him to -rise, and spoke again. - -“Neophyte Peanut, you must learn that the spirit of Lenape is found in -sacrifice and self-denial. Through secret channels I am informed that -your greatest weakness is wasting the time of your leaders with foolish -questions. To remind you that it is better for a camper to discover -things for himself, I command you not to ask a single question of -anybody all day to-morrow; if any member of the society hears you ask a -question, he will be entitled to hot-hand you once. Now, you tall, -gangling, skinny drink of water on the other end,” he continued, turning -toward Slim Yerkes, “what have you got to say for yourself?” - -“Nothing, sir,” said Slim quietly. - -“That’s just the trouble with you. You’re always so quiet that nobody -ever knows you’re around. I’ll bet a dollar to a flash of lightning that -you’ve got lots of talent but are afraid to let anybody know it. Camp is -the place where a boy learns to step out of the background and show what -he can do. You’re here to-night to help amuse the Stuck-Ups. Let’s -see—can you sing?” - -“No, sir.” - -“There you go—I’m sure you’re a mighty fine singer if only you had a -little confidence. Now clear your throat, sound off, and sing in a bold -voice ‘How Dry I Am,’ starting from the end and working forwards.” - -“Am I dry how——” Slim croaked feebly. The campers set up a groan, but -the Grand Mogul pretended to be immensely pleased at the thin lad’s -singing ability. - -“That’s not so terrible. Now, just to make you get out of your shell, I -order you to put on a free show to-morrow for anybody that asks you. -Just pretend you’re a whole circus side-show, and when they ask you, -give imitations of the Fat Lady, the India-Rubber Man, JoJo the -Dog-Faced Boy, the Snake Charmer, or anything else they happen to think -up. Now, next case for the executioner!” He transferred his attention to -Blackie Thorne. - -“All right,” said Blackie insolently, deliberately leaving off the title -of respect. “What are you going to do to me?” - -“_Sir!_” roared the assembled Stuck-Ups. - -“Two bells! Three bells and the foolhardy neophyte hangs on the red -cedar at midnight!” intoned Sax McNulty. The dishpan gong resounded with -two slow strokes. “You have twice dared the wrath of the Stuck-Up -Society. What excuse have you to offer, you in the middle? What’s your -name?” - -Blackie resolved that he would not be daunted by the rigmarole of the -initiation as his two companions had been, and answered as impudently as -he could, “Aw, I go by the name of Saxophone McNulty.” - -The listeners broke into a pandemonium of hooting and roaring, almost -drowning out the booming of the gong sounding three bells. For the first -time the Grand Mogul’s tone became deadly serious, and when he could -make himself heard he addressed Blackie with measured calm. - -“Though the Stuck-Up Society has assembled here to-night in a spirit of -fun, the unwritten code of good-fellowship should govern our every -action as much now as at any other time. You, Thorne, have deliberately -disregarded that code. Besides being an obvious falsehood, your answer -showed a silly wilfulness. In the few days you have been at Lenape you -have shown yourself to be a ‘fresh guy’ and a bully to those who are -weaker than yourself; you have shown a lack of self-control and a -selfish forgetfulness of the other fellow. You get lots of fun out of -playing jokes on somebody else, but as soon as they play a trick on you, -you get sore and go off by yourself and sulk. Am I right?” - -“I guess so, sir.” Blackie hung his head; he hated to be talked to this -way in front of all the other campers. - -“Don’t forget, Blackie,” went on the leader, “that the difficult things -in the world are the ones worth fighting for. It’s easy to be fresh, to -be a bully, to lose your temper, to stir up mischief; but the -worth-while things are gentlemanliness and self-control. Everybody here -will help you all they can, but only you yourself can fight the fight to -make yourself a good Lenape camper. When you have won that fight and -proved that you possess the spirit of sportsmanship and team-play, you -can have another chance to join the honorable ranks of the Stuck-Up -Society. The initiation ceremonies will now proceed without you. Go to -your tent!” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - THE SNIPE HUNT - - -“Last night about dusk, when I was walking by the marsh down where the -creek empties into the lake, I was surprised to discover a large flock -of snipe. Now, hunting this wary game-bird is one of the sports that -Camp Lenape is famous for; and since in my opinion we couldn’t have -better weather for it, I suggested to the Chief that we have a hunt this -very night.” - -Mr. Carrigan, leader of Tent Nine and camp naturalist, was making a -report after supper the next day; and judging from the cheer that went -up at his words, the sport he spoke of was one of the greatest -attractions that camp life could offer. Blackie Thorne, sobered by his -humiliating experience in the Throne Room of the Stuck-Up Society the -previous night, listened with both ears as the councilor continued his -announcement. - -“I do not need to explain to campers who have spent a season at Lenape -that it is exceedingly difficult to capture the elusive snipe. It -requires great care and skill to catch them, and since it would be -impossible for all of us to go after them, it has become the custom for -the old campers, who have all bagged their birds, to give first chance -to the new boys and to act as ‘beaters’ and scare up the game for them. -They will take care of the inexperienced hunters, see that they are -placed in a good position along a well-known snipe ‘run,’ and do all -they can to drive the birds their way. - -“Now, since many of the new boys will not know about the habits and -method of catching this most famous of all game-birds, it will be best -to explain a few details. There are several varieties of snipe. The -variety that is usually found on the Lenape campus is the ‘coo’ snipe, -which may always be recognized by the fact that its eggs are not round -but cube-shaped. Another variety, the ‘fan-tail’ snipe, is found a few -miles north of here, near Camp Shawnee, our rivals on Iron Lake. The -snipe is a bird with long legs and long bill, and the meat is very -succulent, tasting like a cross between turkey and lemon pie. Ellick, -our genial chef, is well-known for his ability to fry snipe in the most -toothsome way, and has furthermore, out of his love for the sport, -offered a prize of one watermelon from the camp ice-box to the first -camper who brings in his snipe.” - -Cheers followed, for Ellick, for Mr. Carrigan, and for the watermelon. - -“The best method of catching this cunning bird,” continued the leader -when the noise had died down again, “is by means of the bag and lantern. -Each hunter should provide himself with a burlap bag—or a pillow-case -will do—and a lantern of some sort. When one of the beaters posts him -along a snipe ‘run,’ as we call the trails which the birds make along -the ground through the bushes on their way down to the lake for a drink, -the hunter should prop the mouth of the bag open with sticks, place a -small pyramid of rocks in front of it, and station himself behind the -bag with his lantern. He then at intervals gives the snipe mating-call, -like this—_coo-coo-coo!_—in a soft and liquid voice. The snipe, aroused -and startled by the approach of the beaters through the bushes, flies -into the air in alarm. Hearing the mating-call and mistaking the pile of -rocks for its nest, it flies toward the open bag, and dazzled by the -light in its eyes, blunders right into the bag. Then all the hunter has -to do is to grab the top of the bag quickly, and the bird is imprisoned -alive and brought back to camp. Remember—the first one to catch his bird -wins the watermelon!” - -He sat down amidst a tornado of cheering. During the uproar Wally -managed to make himself heard at the Tent Four table. - -“With four hunters in our bunch,” he said, “we ought to have enough -snipe to-morrow to make a full meal for the whole table. Soon as we’re -dismissed, you fellows hop around and see if Ellick hasn’t got some old -bags you can borrow. Don’t let anybody else get ahead of you if you can -help it—it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have some watermelon to eat along -with that fried snipe!” - -As soon as the whistle sounded, Blackie joined the torrent of boys that -poured out into the kitchen to besiege Ellick for bags, boxes—anything -in which a bird might be trapped. The chef looked about genially, -finding something for most of them, smiling and assuring them that the -prize offer was true, showing them the big green watermelon that would -fall to the lucky Nimrod. Blackie was fortunate enough to find an empty -potato-sack, and after providing himself with the powerful flash-lantern -he had brought to camp, was ready to put himself in the hands of the -experienced beaters, who would show him the correct place to post -himself. - -To his surprise, Sax McNulty, the councilor who had served the previous -night as Grand Mogul and who had ordered Blackie’s ejection from the -Throne Room, singled him out. The gloomy-faced comedian nodded somberly. - -“Hello, Thorne! Going to redeem yourself and make the camp forget last -night by being the first to get your snipe?” - -“I don’t know about that,” said Blackie, “but I sure am going to try. -Say, Sax!” - -“What?” - -“I—I’m sorry I was so fresh last night. I won’t forget what you said -about being a good sport. And I didn’t mean to act the way I did.” - -“Oh, that’s all right. You didn’t hurt my feelings any. Just to show you -we’re good friends, I’m going to take you to the best place on the -campus for snipe. I know where there’s a ‘run’ where as many snipe have -been caught as in all the other places within six miles. I’ll be your -beater. Got your outfit? Good. Trot along!” - -He led the way at a rapid pace and Blackie followed, lugging his bag and -lantern. They cut straight through the woods away from the lake; in -places it was already so dark that the boy switched on his light to see -the way. McNulty made so many turns and twists that it was not long -before Blackie lost all sense of direction. At last, much to the boy’s -satisfaction, the leader announced that they had reached the place. He -helped Blackie rig up the sack with the mouth propped and held open by -sticks, and arranged a pile of stones in front. - -“In my experience,” said McNulty, “I think Mr. Carrigan is wrong about -the mating-call. It really sounds more like _kuk-kuk-kuk_ than -_coo-coo_.” He made the boy practise the call over and over until he was -satisfied. - -“Now,” he said, “you just wait here until I beat a few down your way.” - -He departed stealthily through the undergrowth, and Blackie crouched -waiting behind his glaring lamp. For ten or fifteen minutes he heard -nothing but the sweet whistles of the whippoorwill and the timid -twilight noises of the woods. Then from the front came a series of -halloos and the crackling of a body passing through the brush. McNulty’s -voice was raised in the beater’s call, advancing swiftly toward him. The -boy clucked as he had been told. There was a whirr like that of wings, -and a flashing shadow in the bright beam of the light. Blackie fell -forward on his bag, sure that some wild thing was struggling among its -folds. - -“Get any?” asked McNulty, rushing up with a long stick in his hand. -“Here—let me take a look—careful now! Don’t let him out, whatever you -do! Easy—I’ll hold it, and you reach down and pull him out. Don’t be -scared—they just peck you a little bit.” - -Gingerly, and not at all sure that he would like to be pecked by a sharp -bill even a little bit, Blackie put his arm in the bag and felt about. -His fingers closed on something, and hastily he jerked it forth. Instead -of a struggling mass of feathers, his hand held only a bunch of tangled -grass and twigs. - -Sax McNulty snorted in disgust. “Thought you had a snipe! Huh! Here I -drove a whole covey of them right at you! Didn’t you see them?” - -“Yes, I thought I saw one fly right into the bag! How did this get -here?” - -“You ought to know. Well, guess I’ll have to go through it all again—and -it’s no fun beating these bushes. I’m all scratched up already. If you -don’t have better luck this time, we’ll have to go somewhere else. I’ll -have to go almost to the top of the mountain as it is—I’ve already -covered the ground near here.” - -He moved away and disappeared into the July night. Blackie settled -himself for a long wait. - -It was lonely there in the woods. He thought over one by one every -incident that had happened since he had landed in camp. Already four -days of his slender two weeks at Lenape had passed; only ten days more -and he would have to return to the hot city, far from the exciting -adventures of forest and lake and lodge. - -It seemed to him that hours had passed since Sax had left him. He -listened with all his might to try and pick up the leader’s shouting off -in the silent woods. Mosquitoes, attracted by the light, swarmed about -him and made him miserable with their tormenting hum; he slapped at -them, but still they came to sting his neck and wrists and ankles. He -would have turned off the light, but knew that if he did so he would -miss his chance of bringing in any snipe; and he was determined not to -return to camp without at least one bird. By this time many of the new -boys should have captured their prey; and he could not think of -returning empty-handed. Why didn’t McNulty return? - -Gradually it dawned upon him that the leader would not return, that he -had not intended to return. It must all be a joke! Just another of those -innumerable hoaxes which camp custom had decreed should be played upon -all tenderfoot campers during the first days of their first season under -canvas. It must be just a conspiracy among the experienced campers and -leaders to decoy the credulous greenhorns out into the woods alone under -the pretext of a hunt for snipe. With a bag and lantern! The whole story -seemed so impossible to him that he wondered how he could have been -taken in by it. Sitting behind a pile of stones and a gaping -potato-sack, cooing and waiting for birds to fly his way! McNulty must -have bundled up grass and twigs into a ball and thrown it into the bag -when he had approached on the pretense of “beating” the birds toward the -light. And how he and the rest of the knowing ones would laugh at -Blackie when he returned to camp, shamefaced and abashed at having been -hoodwinked by such a ridiculous flimflam! Snipe that laid cube-shaped -eggs! - -The thing must be faced like a good sport, however. If he hurried back -to camp, he might still arrive in time to watch some of the other -victims come in, and thus have the laugh on them——He suddenly realized -that he was not sure which was the way back to camp. He had depended on -the guidance of McNulty, and did not have the least idea where he was, -or how far away the tents might be. Well, he would have to explore a -bit, pioneer the way home for himself. - -Carrying his flash-lamp hooked on his belt, he beat his way through the -scrub carefully, on the lookout for snakes and other dangerous dwellers -in the forest. He blundered across a narrow ravine, pushed his way -through a clump of laurels, and climbed a stone fence. The light showed -on the rutted tracks of a lane that wandered through the trees—a lane -that seemed somehow familiar. Sure enough! It was the road that led to -the gloomy house of Rattlesnake Joe, the hermit; it was the trail he and -the others had followed only two nights before! - -He knew his way now. The stars were out, and a half-moon was tilted -among the tree-tops. He snapped off his lamp, so that it would not draw -too many mosquitoes, and found he could follow the lane well enough by -moonlight. Taking the direction that led away from the hermit’s dwelling -and toward the campus, he trudged along by himself, almost laughing to -think how easily the snipe-trick had worked. It was a good joke; and -next year, if he came to camp, he could have the fun of taking some -scary tenderfoot out into the woods and planting him there for the -evening, to coo and wait for snipe that would not come. - -Only about five minutes passed before he was aware that someone was -coming toward him up the road; he could hear the low mumble of voices -only a few hundred yards in front. Could one of them be McNulty, alarmed -because Blackie had not yet turned up in camp, and coming to seek him -and break the news? If so, he was due for a little scare; the jester -would himself be the butt of a jest. Blackie planted himself behind a -thick oak trunk, ready to jump out with a shout and throw the bag over -the leader’s head and give him the fright of his life. - -The voices came nearer; one of them harsh and bullying, the other -sounding strangely weak and pleading. Blackie pondered. Neither of them -could be McNulty. They must be strangers, even men who, finding him -alone, might do him harm. He resolved to keep quiet and let them pass -without noticing him. Inwardly congratulating himself for turning off -his light, he concealed himself as best he could behind the friendly -oak. The voices grew louder; they were rough, uncouth, and profane. - -Two slouching figures emerged from the dark, and stopped right beside -the tree Blackie had chosen. He could have reached out his arm and -touched them both. There was a scratching sound as a match was drawn -across a rock; a red flicker burst forth and revealed two faces bent to -light cigarettes. The face of the taller man was seamed and dirty, and -the unshaven jowls were covered with gray stubble. A green patch hung -over one eye, giving him a peculiar and sinister look. The other man was -younger, with a slack mouth and watery eyes, and a vacant face that -showed he had little or no will of his own. Both were garbed in loose, -patched garments streaked with mud and torn in places. - -“Tramps!” thought Blackie. “Gee, they sure look hard-boiled! If they -ever find me here——” He crouched behind his shelter, fearing that they -had seen him already. - -“Aw, what ya want to be yeller for?” the older man was growling. “I tell -ya it’s a sure thing! He lives all alone up there—I heard all about him -down in Elmville. The hermit, they call him around here, and everybody -knows he’s got a silver mine somewheres in the mountains that he won’t -tell about! Every once in a while he sneaks off and digs up some silver -and buries it under the stones of his fireplace!” - -“Are ya sure, Reno?” asked the other, in snivelling tones. - -“’Course I’m sure! I seen him myself the other night, diggin’ up the -stones at the fireplace and takin’ somethin’ out that looked like a bar -of silver. There ya stand moanin’ like a sick chicken, and all we have -to do to get rich is just walk in and tie him up and take the silver!” - -“We might be seen!” The younger man’s terror was increasing every -minute. “And he’s got dogs, too.” - -“Blast the dogs! They’re all chained up anyway.” - -“But how about them kids?” - -“Aw, they’re all in bed by now. If you’d seen that bar of silver like I -saw, you’d pull yer freight and get the job done.” - -Blackie wanted to cry out and tell them that the hermit was poor, that -he had no money or treasure at all, that the man must have seen him -looking at his precious thunderbolt which he kept under the hearthstone. -But his mouth was so dry with terror that he could not make a sound. He -leaned against the tree for support, and the lantern on his belt clinked -against the rough bark. - -“What’s that?” The weak-chinned man jumped nervously about. - -“Aw, yer jumpy as a cat to-night! ’Fraid of the dark, ain’t ya, Lew?” - -“I thought I heard somebody in the bushes.” - -“Not likely. If I thought there was, I’d pull out his windpipe. There -ain’t nothin’ to be scared of. Now, will ya come, or will I have to do -the job meself?” - -“I—I’ll come, Reno.” - -The two men moved off in the direction of the hermit’s house. Some -minutes passed before Blackie dared to relax his body from the stiffened -position his fright had put him into. Reason told him to get away from -the spot before he was discovered and would have to face the wrath of -the two tramps alone; but curiosity and an uncanny fascination seemed to -draw him to the house whose grim face had somehow haunted him since -first he had arrived at Lenape. With lagging steps, he followed down the -lane toward the fateful, tumbledown dwelling. - -As he drew near the door, his terror increased. The hounds were making a -dismal racket in their kennel, rattling their chains fiercely. One -small, dusty window on the ground floor showed red with firelight; the -rest of the house was dark. Drawn and yet repelled by what might be -going on behind the weather-beaten walls, he dared the chance of one of -the dogs escaping and attacking him, crept to the door, and listened. - -The sound of voices raised in anger came to him, a bedlam hubbub of -words. He thought he could distinguish the peculiar, slouchy dialect of -Rattlesnake Joe above the others. - -“Ye’re crazed, ye devils! I’ll have the law onto ye!” - -“Will ya tell us where yer silver mine is located?” - -“No! I won’t tell ye a tarnal thing——” - -There was the clatter of a chair overturned on the board floor. A -piercing, terrifying scream, hoarse and horrid, came once and broke off. -A heavy body slipped noisily to the floor. Afterward endured a hushed, -strained silence, during which Blackie heard with distinctness the -beating of his own pulse and the hollow ticking of a clock beyond the -door. - -The wind was rising; a gust swept over the roof of the somber house, -rattling the loose shingles and stirring the tops of the pines. Its -coming brought panic to Blackie Thorne. He turned and, with eyes -starting with horror, fled away into the dark with the ghastly memory of -that hoarse, despairing scream still ringing in his ears. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - A RAINY DAY - - -Blackie did not mention to a single soul what he had seen and heard at -the hermit’s house the night of the snipe hunt. He wanted nothing more -than to forget the terror which had gripped him by the throat as he -stood outside the door of the house in the woods. Indeed, when the -crystal clear morning came and the busy camp routine began, it was hard -to believe that he had witnessed any dark deed the night before. - -As the days passed, he almost forgot he had ever overheard the two -tramps planning robbery and violence upon a harmless old man. The -glorious Fourth of July came and went, leaving only burnt fingers and a -powder-blackened litter of colored papers on the baseball field as -souvenirs of the sparkling and explosive celebration. Wally continued -his lessons in the Australian crawl, and also taught the Tent Four group -many things about the art of diving. Camp Lenape held a field meet, and -Blackie was awarded three ribbons of various colors as trophies of his -prowess in running and jumping. Tent Four wiped out its bad record by -winning inspection three times in succession. On Friday night each tent -group put on an impromptu show or stunt, ranging from a vaudeville act -with a trick horse (front part, Gil Shelton; hind legs, Spaghetti -Megaro) to an uproarious imitation of a tent full of sleepy-heads -turning out for Reveille. Blackie and Gallegher spent much of their time -studying to pass their requirements for the honor emblem, and at the -Indian council on Monday night they both were summoned before the -Chief’s seat and proudly received the coveted badge. - -Blackie was awake twenty minutes before First Call on Tuesday morning, -and passed the time stitching the swastika emblem on the front of his -jersey. The sky was dull and leaden; for the first time since he had -come to camp there was a smell of rain in the air. When the campers were -returning up the hill after the Indian dip the storm broke, bucketing -down in torrents; the boys went up to breakfast in raincoats and -ponchos, and stood assembled for flag-raising on the long porch of the -lodge. - -“I was going out with the pioneers to help build a signal-tower this -morning,” Blackie grumbled over his oatmeal at breakfast, “and here it’s -got to go and rain. Gee, what rotten luck!” - -“Why worry?” asked Ken Haviland; “Rain doesn’t spoil anything here at -Lenape. Last year we had so much fun on rainy days that I’ve been -wishing for a wet day soon. We’ll have a good time to-day, and don’t -forget it.” - -“What will happen?” - -“Oh, lots of things. Everybody stays here in the lodge, and we have -boxing and wrestling matches, indoor track meets, or signalling -contests. Maybe some of the leaders will tell stories. Rainy days are -good times to practise for the big show that comes at the end of every -section, or to get the dope on map-making, life-saving drill, forestry -and merit badges. Some fellows can work in the carpenter shop on -handicraft. I remember one wet day last year we had a big mud-marathon -around the lodge. Everybody put on old clothes and went through a big -obstacle race; we almost laughed ourselves sick.” - -Haviland’s prophecy was correct; the program for the day was more active -and strenuous than for a day of sunshine. The campers put the lodge in -order, cleared away a big space in the center, and brought in a tall -heap of firewood for the cheerful blaze that was crackling in the stone -fireplace. Wally Rawn, who as officer of the day was supervising the -program, caught Blackie by the arm as he was helping to lay down some -large, padded wrestling mats. - -“Blackie, will you go in to the Chief’s office and get the O. D. report -blank for me?” - -“You bet, Wally!” - -Blackie skipped over to a far corner of the lodge, where the Chief had a -small room fitted with a desk and cabinet to hold the camp letters and -records. The door was slightly ajar, and two voices sounded beyond. The -Chief had a visitor. Blackie paused at the door, hesitating to intrude -upon the conversation. - -“Just stopped on my way from Elmville,” came the heavy voice of the -visitor. “Couldn’t find out anything about the matter there, and as I -was riding back over the mountains I thought I might as well stop on the -chance that you might know something about it.” - -“Mr. Lane, who brings in our provisions, told me what he’d heard in -town,” answered the Chief. “That’s all I know. Wednesday night it -happened, wasn’t it?” - -“That’s what the coroner thinks. The body wasn’t found till -Friday—nobody goes up there, you know, and the old man lived alone. It -was just by luck that one of the neighbors stopped in to see him, and -found the body.” - -“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Sheriff. It’s a terrible thing to have such -a murder so near camp. And the old hermit wouldn’t have hurt a fly.” - -Sheriff! Murder! Blackie clutched the doorpost and almost fell over at -the words. The hermit! - -“Well,” said the sheriff, scraping back his chair as he rose, “if you do -hear anything, I live over by Newmiln Center. You can send word to me -there. It’s a puzzle, sure enough. As brutal a thing as I ever heard of -in all my experience; if it was robbers that did it, they surely didn’t -find anything.” - -“I hope you catch them,” said the Chief fervently. “And I’m sorry I -can’t give you any clue. Good day!” - -Blackie just had time to collect his thoughts and run away from the door -before he might be discovered listening. He dashed off and joined the -group about the wrestling-mats, covertly watching the man who came out -of the office. The sheriff was a heavy-set, black-mustached man in -spurred and muddied riding-boots and glistening slicker. He stamped -across to the back door and, while Blackie watched at a window, mounted -a waiting horse and cantered off down the muddy road through the -downpour. - -The watching boy heaved a sigh of relief; he had escaped being caught -and questioned. The two tramps must have tried to force the hermit to -tell what he knew. The old man, of course, possessed neither a treasure -nor the secret of a silver mine, and in the struggle he had somehow -been—killed. Murder! What an ugly-sounding word it was! Blackie -shivered. He wanted to forget; but he knew that never in this world -would he lose the memory of that sullen, threatening house and the -racking scream that had issued from it on that fatal Wednesday night. - -He looked about him. The rainy-morning program in the lodge was already -in full swing. In front of the fireplace Lieutenant Eames had roped off -a square space and was giving boxing instruction to an interested group. -Two older boys, their fists hidden in bulging padded gloves, were -clumsily sparring together under a rapid stream of cautions and advice -from the lieutenant and a perfect hail of cheers and urgings from the -howling bunch of spectators. - -“Put your body behind it!” counseled the West Pointer. “Place your blows -where they’ll do the most good—don’t thrash around wildly. There—not -bad! Don’t run away, Pete; stand up to him and defend yourself with the -gloves. Whoa!” The two boys, smarting under a few well-placed blows, -were mixing it in earnest, their fists whirling rapidly but with little -damaging effect. “That’s enough—you can’t fight best when you lose your -tempers. Now, who’s next?” - -“Match me with somebody!” urged Chink Towner. “It’s my turn now, -Lieutenant!” - -“Whom do you want to take on, Chink?” - -The onlookers chorused a suggestion. “Blackie! Blackie Thorne! Here he -is now! Take him on, Chink!” - -“How about it, Blackie?” asked the lieutenant. “Want to try a round or -two with Chink?” - -Blackie’s scare was still too close to him to want to think about -anything else, but he resolved not to display the white feather before -the group. He could not refuse. “Aw, sure, I’m not afraid of him. Give -me the gloves!” - -Jerry Utway volunteered to serve as his second, and jumped to help him. -Jake Utway, not to be outdone by his twin brother, took Chink’s corner -and laced on his gloves. The news of the bout spread around the lodge -from group to group, until quite a number of campers crowded about the -ring. Ellick, the chef, drifted in from the kitchen, and agreed to judge -the contest. Tent Three rallied to support Chink, their champion, and -the Tent Four boys patted Blackie on the back and whispered words of -advice or encouragement. - -Wally Rawn came over while Blackie was stripping to shorts and tennis -shoes. “You shouldn’t be matched with Towner,” he said. “He’s got a -longer reach than you have, and knows more about boxing than you do.” - -“I can’t back out now. I’m not scared of him anyway,” Blackie muttered, -but his heart was racing and he had a chilly feeling in the pit of his -stomach. - -“Well, remember to keep your guard up all the time, and don’t lose your -head. Another thing—don’t set your body stiff until you’re ready to hit; -if you’re relaxed a blow doesn’t hurt so much. But don’t let him take -you off balance, or you’ll find yourself chewing the floor.” - -Bewildered by the shouting and the hasty advice, Blackie found himself -in the center of the ring. The lieutenant was introducing the -contenders. - -“In this corner, Battling Towner, the Chinese challenger; to my right, -Kid Blackie, the Bloodthirsty Bantam. Shake hands, gentlemen! First -round—time!” - -The two boys closed in upon each other warily, exchanged a few watchful -feints and passes. Chink led with his left; Blackie sprang out of the -way, and swung harmlessly at the air. - -“Get into him, Thorne!” squealed Jerry Utway. “This ain’t a -pillow-fight! Hit him!” - -Chink feinted with his left and aimed a blow with his right that caught -Blackie on the arm, whirling him half around. He caught his balance, -leaped forward, and closed in a clinch so tight that neither boy got in -any blows before they were separated. They parted; there followed a few -seconds of brisk sparring; then Chink, with lightning footwork, dodged -under Blackie’s guard and planted a thudding glove upon his face. -Blackie was knocked backwards; he shut his eyes and crouched with his -gloves over his face and his arms tight to his chest. The spectators -shouted, cheering for Chink. - -“First blood for the Chinese lightweight!” - -“Yay, Tent Three!” - -“Get into him, Blackie!” - -Blackie set his teeth. The blow had stunned him for a minute, but it had -the effect of making him forget the crowd, forget everything but the -crouched figure of the boy before him—his antagonist. The faces of the -watchers and the referee seemed to show through an unreal haze. He -struck out at Towner, and landed on his body; but Chink retaliated with -another crushing blow upon the nose. A numb feeling settled upon -Blackie’s senses; his limbs seemed to be yards long, the gloves to weigh -tons. What was he doing out here in front of the crowd, jumping around -breathlessly and being struck again and again? Even Chink’s face came to -him half hidden by a dreamy mist. He fought and fought, yet Chink never -seemed to be touched; he darted about, apparently placing his fists -where he pleased. - -A gong sounded; hands reached out and pulled Blackie to his chair. He -felt a splash of cold water on his face; Jerry Utway was rubbing his -arms with a towel. “Round one—won by Mistah Chink!” came Ellick’s voice. - -Again Blackie was aware that the gong had sounded, and once more he was -facing Towner. The other boy was breathing heavily, but was apparently -as light on his feet and as ready with his hands as ever. - -“After him, Blackie—the best defense is an attack!” It was Wally’s -voice, coming coolly to him from beyond the ring. Blackie caught his -breath and plunged with whirling arms after the shadowy form of his -opponent. Chink closed in for an exchange of body blows and another -clinch, in which Blackie got the worst end of it. Towner was depending -mostly upon blows to the face, concentrating all his attack upon the -nose and mouth, placing shrewd hits on these places one after another. -Blackie had the feeling that he was fighting against a ghostly figure, -an antagonist as elusive and intangible as smoke. He began hitting out -blindly, thoughtlessly, raging and hating Towner with all his might. A -red flag seemed to drop before his eyes, and he charged with his fists -hammering like pistons, careless of the rain of blows that fell upon his -unprotected head. He was seeing red, running wild, losing all his skill -and direction in a mad, senseless rush. Through the clamor of the crowd -came Wally’s low counsel again. - -“Keep your head, Blackie! Self-control!” - -The mist began to clear. He felt a jolting, sharp blow on the chin, was -aware that Chink was off to one side and that in his blind charge he was -nowhere near his antagonist. He fell back, protecting his face; then, -suddenly, he whirled and struck out with his right arm extended. His -glove seemed to plunge forward of its own accord and land with a smack -on Chink’s face. The other boy fell back with an amazed look in his -eyes. - -“Time! End of de bout—no decision!” cried Ellick. - -There were shouts of protest; the campers wanted a fight to a finish. -Ellick only shook his head and nodded in the direction of Blackie’s -corner. Blackie saw his comrades staring at him strangely. - -“He tapped you one on the nose, all right,” said Jerry, giving him a cup -of water. - -Blackie looked with surprise at his hand, still encased in a leather -glove. The casing was stained with a few darkening crimson drops. - -“What of it? I can still lick him! I’m just getting started!” - -Lieutenant Eames crossed over to them with one arm on Chink’s shoulder. - -“Sure, you’re not whipped by a long sight, Thorne,” he said. “But we can -match up you two again some other time. Now, you two boys have been -swatting each other all around the ring enough to satisfy anybody. -Another thing, Blackie—I can see that you don’t know the first thing -about scientific self-defense, but you have two things that are most -essential to a good boxer. You have good muscular control, and you keep -your wits about you all the time. If you want to spend some time with -me, I think after a few lessons I can make a pretty fair boxer out of -you.” - -“Say, will you, Lieutenant? I’d sure like that!” - -He relinquished his gloves to another boy, and a third match began, -while Wild Willie Sanders and Soapy Mullins began a wrestling bout. The -group split up and drifted away, while Blackie slipped into his clothes. -His nose had stopped bleeding, and he was feeling a glow of happiness -that came from the words of the boxing instructor. He felt a hand on his -shoulder, looked up and saw Wally. - -“Well, you took a beating to-day, all right!” - -“Chink didn’t lick me,” frowned Blackie. “They stopped us because he -tapped me on the nose.” - -“He hammered you all over the ring; I said you were no match for him. -Chink Towner did give you a beating; but I was watching another fight at -the same time.” - -“Gee, you talk funny sometimes, Wally. What fight do you mean?” - -“You were fighting against your own self, Blackie, when you were there -in the ring. And you won that fight. I saw you. For a minute you got -mad, lost your control; then you got hold of yourself and began to use -your head. It was a good thing for you to go against a fighter better -than yourself; you learned to take your medicine and keep your temper. -And they’re both good things for a young lad to know.” - - - - - CHAPTER X - THE LIE - - -“You put up a pretty good scrap,” grunted Gallegher approvingly. - -Blackie had donned his shirt and sweater after the boxing bout. “Thanks, -Irish,” he said. - -“I’ve seen lots of tough fights, and I know what I’m sayin’, see? Say, -are you tired?” - -“No, not very.” - -“What do you say we take a little walk? I’m sick of bein’ shut in this -lodge all mornin’.” - -Blackie looked out a window; the rain had slackened, but still drizzled -down with settled persistence. “In the rain?” - -“Sure—what’s a few drops matter? Put on your raincoat and come along.” - -The two boys slipped into their rainproof ponchos, and then Gallegher -led the way a short distance through the wet woods behind camp. Here he -turned off and struck through the brush toward the mountain, following a -line of lead pipe that ran from a spring above down to the lodge, -supplying fresh, cold water for the use of the camp. A trail had been -cut when the men had laid the pipe, but it was overgrown and indistinct, -and it was easy to see that few campers ever passed that way. After -about a quarter of a mile of trudging in silence through the dripping -forest, Gallegher turned off and floundered through the undergrowth -until he came to the thick trunk of a fallen tree that lay rotting on -the ground. - -“Here we are,” he said. “Not so bad, eh? I come here lots of times.” - -“What for?” asked Blackie curiously. - -“I’ll show you.” Gallegher stuck out his chin, and winked meaningly. -“Have a good time, away from all the baby kids in camp. See what I -mean?” - -He fished out a crumpled, gaudily-colored package from his shirt, and -held it out to Blackie. Within were a few cheap cigarettes. - -“Gee!” exclaimed Blackie, “cigarettes! Where did you get them, Irish?” - -“Aw, I always carry some. I like to get away and have a little smoke by -myself now and then. Have one.” - -“You’ve been smoking all the time we’ve been up here? Say, don’t you -know the Chief sends a guy home right away if he’s caught smoking?” - -“What of it? He has to catch us first, and nobody ever comes here. Don’t -chew the rag so much; light up and be happy.” Gallegher winked again. - -“Naw—I’m in training for boxing practice with the Lieutenant,” said -Blackie uncomfortably. “Smoking is bad for the wind, and I got to have -good lungs to be a good scrapper.” - -“Aw, one won’t hurt you,” Gallegher jeered. “Know what I think? I think -you’re scared you’ll get caught. You’re just yellow, like all the rest -of the babies at this camp.” - -“I’m not scared. Here, give me one, Irish. I’ll show you.” - -Blackie seized one of the white cylinders and hastily lighted the end. -Gallegher lit another and settled back on the fallen tree trunk, puffing -away expertly. - -“Pretty soft, eh?” - -“Not bad,” agreed Blackie, fumbling amateurishly with the lighted -cigarette. He coughed and wiped away the tears that formed in his eyes -as the smoke blew into them. “Say, are you sure nobody ever comes around -here?” - -“Sure they don’t—especially on a rainy day. I’ve had a quiet little cig -here lots of times. Don’t get scared, kid—we’ll be safe. Besides, now we -both got the honor emblem, we can get away with lots of stuff. If you -wear one of these things on your chest”—he indicated the green swastika -and the “L” upon his sweater—“you can put over stuff that would be too -raw for other guys to get away with. I’ve been kind of layin’ low -lately, but believe me, there’s goin’ to be some fun around this camp -pretty soon, and I’m goin’ to get back at the guys that kicked me out of -the Stuck-Up initiation. Are you with me, Blackie? They did the same -dirty trick to you.” - -“Sure—sure I’m with you, Irish.” - -“Have another fag, then.” - -“No, one is enough for me.” - -“Come on, have another. What are you afraid of? We can eat a hunk of -candy before we go back to camp, and nobody will ever know a thing about -it.” - -Blackie accepted another, but threw the stump away before he had smoked -much of it. He didn’t like it, but the idea of sitting there hidden in -the woods doing a forbidden act that would be heavily punished if it -were known gave him a devil-may-care, excited feeling. - -Later, after they had sneaked back to camp for swim, he did not feel -quite so dashing. The secret act now appeared sordid. He felt -uncomfortable and guilty; he could not forget what he had done, and went -to bed that night with an uneasy fear that he might be discovered any -minute. He dropped off to sleep assuring himself that never again would -he let Gallegher or anybody else persuade him to break a camp rule and -do an unworthy, hole-in-the-corner deed. - -He awoke some time later. A pocket flashlight was shining in his face, -and he blinked fearfully for half a minute before he came to his senses. -Dimly he heard Wally whisper close to his ear. - -“Get up and put on your bathrobe, Thorne. I want you to come up to the -lodge with me.” - -“Wha—what for?” - -“You’ll find out later.” - -He could hear the heavy breathing of his tent-mates about him as he -struggled into his bathrobe; but when he stepped outside the tent he was -surprised to find that all of them were not asleep. Gallegher, also -attired in his bathrobe, stood waiting outside on the path with Wally, -who had not yet undressed for the night. - -“What time is it, Wally?” asked Blackie. - -“About ten-thirty. Now, keep quiet and don’t wake up the rest of the -fellows. Come along.” - -The two boys followed him up to the lodge. The rain had stopped, and a -crisp, bracing wind was blowing up from the lake. As they mounted the -steps leading to the lodge porch, they saw a light still burning in the -little office in one corner of the building. The Chief had not gone to -bed yet, either. Wally opened the outer door, and stepped inside to let -them enter. - -“This way, you two.” - -The boys exchanged scared glances. There was no time to do more. They -stepped inside. The Chief turned in his chair and bent a serious look -upon them. - -“Sit down, Gallegher, Thorne. Come on in, Mr. Rawn. Now, I have had your -leader bring you boys up here because I wanted to ask you some -questions.” - -Gallegher slumped in his seat with a scowl. Blackie shivered; he did not -dare to face the Chief, but looked away, fearing what was to come. - -“Mr. Rawn tells me,” continued the Chief in an even tone, “that to-night -at Taps, he noticed that something fell out of Gallegher’s pocket as he -was undressing. He brought this object to me. Here it is.” - -Blackie stole a glance at the man’s outstretched hand. It was as he -feared. The Chief was holding a crumpled paper package of cigarettes. - -“I asked him to bring Gallegher to me right away. He was seen going into -the woods this morning, and as Thorne was with him, I asked that both of -you be brought up to talk with me. The directors of Camp Lenape, knowing -that smoking is injurious to the health of growing boys, have a rule -that any boy who smokes while at camp will be sent home in disgrace at -once. Have you both heard that rule?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Yes, Chief.” - -“I am going to ask each of you a question, and you are on your honor to -answer it truthfully. Gallegher, have you smoked cigarettes while at -Camp Lenape?” - -There was a moment of silence. Gallegher bit his lip and considered. He -was caught with the goods. He shrugged and mumbled, “Yes, sir.” - -Blackie felt the Chief’s eyes upon him. “Thorne, have you been smoking -at camp, too?” - -He must not be sent home! Blackie shifted in his chair and tried to -think. Sent home in disgrace, away from all the wonderful times at camp; -sent back to town, to face his mother’s disappointed eyes, to be in the -city and know that he had missed the big camp show, the boat regatta, -the swimming meet—— The Chief and Wally couldn’t be sure—Gallegher -wouldn’t give him away—— - -“Answer me, Blackie.” - -There was only one way out. “N-No, Chief.” - -He had done it! He had lied; deliberately he had told an untruth to save -his own skin. He was glad the Chief was not looking at him any more, but -had turned his attention to Gallegher. Blackie stared at the floor. - -“Gallegher, I’m glad you haven’t made it any worse by lying about your -act,” the director was saying. “Now, because you’ve owned up to it like -a man, and because I know that you have lived in a bad neighborhood back -in town and might in that way have picked up some wrong ideas about -things, I’m going to give you a choice that may permit you to stay on -here at camp. You can either leave camp to-morrow, or stay here and chop -wood for the kitchen three hours a day. You’ll lose your honor emblem, -of course. Which is it—stay or leave?” - -Gallegher turned away, so that the Chief could not see his face. “I’ll -stay and chop wood,” he muttered with a catch in his voice. “And—thanks, -Chief.” - -“I’m glad you took that choice, Gallegher. Camp has done a lot for you, -and I’d hate to lose you now. Mr. Rawn, you may all go back to your tent -now. Good-night!” - -Wally nodded briefly, and the three left the lighted office. Not a word -was spoken; they walked slowly and thoughtfully back to Tent Four, and -turned in silently. - -Between his blankets, Blackie drew a deep breath for the first time -since he had been awakened. If Gallegher only did not give him away, -nobody would ever know, and things would be just the same as before. -Nevertheless, he did not find it easy to get to sleep, and woke before -dawn to lie wretchedly in his bunk until the activity of the day would -begin and he might win forgetfulness in the rush of the day’s program. - -The first blow fell just before breakfast, when the entire camp strength -was lined up after flag salute and morning Call to the Colors. Hungrily -expectant and waiting for the command to march in to mess, the arrayed -campers were surprised to find that the Chief delayed in giving the -command. He stood beside the flagpole with a stern look in his eyes. The -boys stirred in the ranks, shifted their feet curiously, -uncomprehendingly. - -“Why doesn’t he tell us to go to breakfast?” - -“Gee—I never saw him do this before!” - -“Quiet in the ranks!” came the command of Mr. Avery, the officer of the -day. “Attention!” - -The expectant bodies stiffened. The Chief cleared his throat. - -“Timothy Gallegher, five paces forward!” he said. - -A ripple of astonishment ran down the line. Blackie felt a movement at -his side; Gallegher had left his place and now appeared in front of the -Chief, standing with a strange white look on his drawn face, swaying -slightly in his place. - -“Timothy Gallegher, you have been guilty of conduct unbecoming to a -Lenape camper. You will here, in the sight of all your comrades, be -stripped of the honor emblem which you have been found unworthy to -wear.” - -The crowd gasped. Gallegher never moved, staring in front of him with a -blind tenseness. The Chief reached into his pocket and drew forth a -clasp-knife, opened one of the sharp small blades. From the end of the -line came a muffled tattoo; little Pete Lister, trap-drummer in the camp -orchestra, was sounding a rattling roll on his drum, as he had been told -to do. - -Slowly, in the sight of all, the swastika-L on the front of Gallegher’s -sweater was cut away. The thin blade slit the stitches, and the Chief’s -hand tore away the green and white emblem of honor. Blackie watched -Gallegher’s face, fascinated. He should be out there, too, taking his -medicine, suffering along with the Irish boy; he was just as guilty, and -more so, for at least Gallegher had not lied about his guilt. Blackie -wanted to cry out, to tell them all that he should be standing there, -too, with the Chief tearing away his own badge; but he stood rooted in -his place with a dry tongue and pale cheeks beneath his tan. - -Now it was too late. The Chief had put the emblem and the knife into his -pocket; the drumming had stopped; Gallegher shambled doggedly back to -his place in the line, beside Blackie and the other boys of Tent Four. -The chance to confess was past. Blackie rather envied Gallegher; he had -owned up and taken his punishment, and however hard the work on the -woodpile might be, at least he would have no ugly stain on his -conscience. - -“Right face! Forward—march!” The files trailed up toward the lodge -steps, and instantly a curious babel of voices broke out. - -“Gee, what did you do, Irish?” - -“Say, you must have done something pretty wild to get stripped like -that!” - -“Aw, shut up!” said Gallegher. “Key down, see? That’s my business. -Maybe, if the guys that run this camp knew their stuff, I wouldn’t be -the only one to get stripped.” - -“What do you mean?” asked Slater. - -“I don’t mean a thing, see? Not a thing.” He looked darkly at Blackie, -who pretended he had not heard. The boys of Tent Four clattered up the -steps. There was a smell of breakfast in the air; everything was -forgotten at the thought of heaping dishes of cereal, hot biscuits, -steaming cocoa. But Blackie took his seat in worried silence, bowing his -head for grace. As he looked down, there showed before him the emblem -sewed on his jersey, the swastika-L he had won but had disgraced and now -wore dishonorably. He had a sudden, unreasoning desire to pluck it from -its place and throw it to the floor. It wavered before his eyes, the -burning badge of his shame. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - KANGAROO COURT - - -The day dragged on miserably for Blackie. - -He had a feeling that the eyes of his tent-mates were always furtively -upon him; when he would face them suddenly they would look away, but he -could feel their silent condemnation. Gallegher spent the morning hours -at work on the woodpile; Blackie saw him now and then bent over his job, -toiling alone. They had not spoken together since Wally had wakened them -both the night before; they did not speak at dinner or in the tent -during siesta hour afterwards. Blackie felt that the Irish boy was -avoiding the very sight of him. - -When Recall sounded after siesta and the boys of Tent Four tumbled out -for the afternoon’s fun, Blackie did not leave his bunk. He found -himself alone with little Nightgown Guppy, who sat on the tent step -busily scooping out a section of birch wood for a bird-house. He worked -along in silence, but finally raised his head curiously and put a -question. - -“What’s the matter, Blackie? Are you feeling sick or something?” - -“No, I’m not sick, you fool!” growled Blackie, turning over on his -pillow. - -“Well, then, why don’t you get out and play baseball with the bunch? The -campers are playing the councilors to-day, and you ought to be in the -game. I never thought you were a guy that would spend all his time doing -bunk-duty.” - -“Who cares what you think? Shut up and beat it. I’m sick of hearing you -babies bawling around all the time.” - -Guppy worked on for a minute. “What are you sore about, Blackie?” he -asked after some time. “Is it because you’re scared the Chief will know -you were smoking?” - -Blackie sat up with a jerk. “How do you know I was smoking?” - -“Oh, everybody knows.” - -“If Gallegher said anything, I’ll knock his block off!” - -“He didn’t have to say anything. We all know you were in on it, and lied -out of it to the Chief.” - -The bunk creaked as Blackie jumped up and advanced toward the smaller -boy with doubled fists. “You say I’m a liar? By Jimmy, I’ll fix you for -this!” - -“Don’t hit me!” said Guppy, dropping his tools and edging away. “All I -said was——” - -“You said enough!” Blackie scowled fiercely, seized the lad’s arm -roughly, and gave it a wrenching twist until Guppy cried out with pain. -“That’ll teach you to keep your mouth shut around me! Now, will you be -calling me a liar any more? Will you? Will you?” - -“Ow!” screamed Guppy. “I only said——You let me be, Blackie Thorne, or -you’ll be sorry——” - -Blackie gave the arm another vicious turn. “If I hear you ever say again -that I was smoking with Gallegher, I’ll kill you, do you hear?” - -“No, you won’t,” said a new voice. Blackie looked up. Facing him were -Ken Haviland, Gil Shelton, and a group of older boys who had approached -unnoticed. - -“Get him!” called Gil in a low tone. He and Sunfish jumped and caught -Blackie’s arms. - -“Don’t try to struggle, or it’ll be worse for you,” continued Ken. “All -right, Gup—he won’t bother you any more.” - -Blackie found himself pinioned on both sides, and a husky guard of four -veteran campers formed about him. They put him, still struggling, on a -locker in the center of the tent. Ken Haviland assumed a seat on top of -an upper bunk, where he could look down upon the prisoner. - -“The Kangaroo Court will now convene,” he said solemnly. - -“What’s the idea?” protested Blackie. “Gil, I thought you and Sunfish -and Soapy Mullins were friends of mine!” - -“Silence before the judge,” warned Gil. “You are now in court. We’ll let -your arms loose if you promise not to run away.” - -“But why? If one of the leaders comes along now, you guys will sure look -stupid.” - -“All of the leaders are down at the baseball field,” Sunfish assured -him. “Anyway, it’ll be worse for you if any of them hear tell of this. -Now, shut up! The court-martial is beginning.” - -Ken Haviland, on his perch above, cleared his throat and began to speak. -“Gentlemen of the Kangaroo Court, you have been called together to try -the case of Blackie Thorne of Tent Four, Camp Lenape. You will see that -justice is done.” - -The boys seated themselves about on boxes and bunks. There were eleven -of them, all from different tent-groups, and all boys who had spent at -least one season at Lenape. Ken looked sternly at Blackie. - -“Prisoner, you are charged with breaking the camp law against smoking -and deliberately lying about your act when questioned on your honor. Are -you guilty or not guilty?” - -“So Gallegher’s been squealing, huh?” exclaimed Blackie. “Well, what of -it? What right have you to treat me like a convict?” - -“The right of the Kangaroo Court. You’re a tenderfoot at camp, so I’ll -explain to you what we’re doing here. The Chief and the councilors have -nothing to do with it now. You were asked on your honor if you had -broken a camp rule, and we know that you told a lie. Instead of owning -up and taking your punishment like a man, you broke your word and -sneaked out of it. The Chief accepted your word; that’s all he could do. -But the campers of Lenape have something to say about how a fellow like -you shall be treated. This court represents every boy in camp, and every -boy will stand by our decision. Are you guilty or not?” - -Blackie sneered. “And I suppose if I say I am, you and this gang of -yours will run and tattle-tale to the Chief!” - -“I said that the Chief has nothing to do with this. And you only hurt -yourself by acting ugly.” - -“All right,” said Blackie sullenly. “I did it. What are you going to do -about it?” - -“Gentlemen of the court, the prisoner has confessed his guilt. All in -favor of inflicting the usual penalty will rise.” - -Every one of the eleven boys rose to his feet. Blackie looked from one -face to another of those who had been his friends, and read there only -reluctant determination. Ken Haviland tore a scrap of paper from a -notebook in his pocket, and scribbled on it with a pencil. Soapy Mullins -yanked Blackie to a standing position. - -“Prisoner,” said Ken gravely, “the unanimous decision of the Kangaroo -Court is that you shall be given the Black Spot.” He held out the scrap -of paper, and Blackie took it wonderingly. There was nothing on it save -a rude pencilled black disc in the center. “From this moment you are -branded as a disgrace to Camp Lenape, and not a single camper will speak -so much as a word to you. Court’s adjourned!” - -The members of the court departed toward the baseball field, taking -Guppy with them, and the culprit was left alone with the marked piece of -paper still in his hand. He crumpled it with an angry gesture, and -tossed it to the ground. - -“Huh! They must think they’ve done something smart! The Black Spot! -Nobody will talk to me—we’ll see about that! And what if they don’t? A -lot I’d care if I never saw any of this bunch of Sunday-school kids -again!” - -He caught up a hat and marched down to the ball field, drawn there by a -desire to brazen it out and see if his sentence meant anything. The -boys’ team was at bat, and Lefty Reardon, captain, was coaching off -third base. - -“Hey, Lefty!” Blackie hailed him. “How about giving me a game?” - -Lefty turned, looked him up and down quietly, and turned away again as -though he hadn’t heard the question. Blackie flushed, and after standing -uneasily for a minute, tried to look unconcerned and strolled down to -the gathering around the batter. There was a low ripple of whispers at -his approach; boys nudged each other and turned to look, turned away -with half-hidden smiles of contempt. He did not even dare to speak to -one of them. For the moment he was tempted to rough-house one or two of -the younger boys just to see whether or not they could be made to speak; -but he remembered what had happened when he had twisted Guppy’s arm, and -knew that any defiance of the unwritten code would be useless. - -“What’s the score?” he asked of the world in general. - -Not a boy answered him. Someone at his elbow snickered; no one looked in -his face. He felt like a ghost, a branded being who had no right among -that bunch of happy campers; he was lonely in a crowd. - -The only reason he watched the game to its finish was because he refused -to give the boys the satisfaction of having driven him away. It was the -most wretched afternoon he had ever spent. He sat, drawn apart from the -rest, inwardly seething with fury and wondering how long he could stand -it. He forgot the exhilarating, breath-taking delights he had enjoyed at -Lenape; he could only remember the little dislikes he had acquired, the -humiliation of his ejection from the Stuck-Up initiation, the crude and -unceasing jokes that had been played upon him. He hated the Chief, the -leaders; with all the boys against him, staying at Lenape was -unbearable. He would leave the hateful place! It was the only thing to -do—run away from them all and never, never come back! - -He sat there moodily, pondering the plan in his mind. It was easy enough -to decide to run away—but where should he go? If he went back to the -city, he would have to face his mother with a tale of disgrace, and the -boys of the camp would soon discover that their punishment had driven -him home like a whipped dog. If he slipped away and went east, toward -Elmville and the railroad, Wally would soon discover that he was -missing; a hunt would start, he would be easily traced and found before -he could get far, and he would be brought back to camp again, baffled -and more of an object of reproach than ever. But if he could manage to -get too far away to be traced, and stay hidden somewhere for three or -four days, they would think him dead, and when he finally did return -they would be so glad they would forget all about his crime, would be -sorry they had caused him to run off alone. The open road, that was the -thing! He would be a hobo for a while, might even bum his way to some -city miles off, having an adventurous time on the road while the Lenape -kids did their smart little tricks and acted like Sunday-school babies -and thought they were having a good time! - -After some thought he decided not to leave immediately, but to wait -until supper-time. He was watched too closely now; every boy in camp -knew of his sentence and was covertly watching to see how he would take -it. But if he slipped away when the camp was assembled in the mess hall, -it was not likely that he would be seen. Wally might wonder what had -become of him, but would not take steps to find out until after the -meal; and by that time Blackie hoped to be several miles away in a -direction they would not expect him to take. He had seen the county map -which hung in the lodge, and knew that Newmiln Center, on Flatstone -Creek, was about ten miles as the crow flies northwest over the -mountains, in a rich farming region that was separated from camp by -miles of wilderness into which nobody ever penetrated. They would not -look for him on top of the ridges; they would never suspect that he -dared go there. Why, given a fair start and three hours of daylight, he -might even make Newmiln Center before dark closed in! - -“I’ll do it!” Blackie muttered darkly to himself. “I’ll show them I -won’t knuckle under, no matter what they do!” - -He would take his blankets, he decided, and also his flash-lantern, ax, -and compass. The next problem was food. That would have to be -taken—“hooked”—out of the kitchen somehow. But unless there was one of -the kitchen crew at work, the place was always kept locked. He would -have to manage, somehow. - -He thought over his plans during the two hours before Retreat and the -evening flag-lowering ceremony. He did not appear for swim, but spent -the time making a neat roll of his blankets, which he hid along with his -flash-lamp, compass and ax in the bushes beside the road behind camp. He -knew that if his absence at the swimming dock was noted, the boys would -put it down to wanting to escape their silent contempt. - -He was in his place when Retreat Call trumpeted out over the lake; but -when the usual evening rush to tables began and the files clattered up -the steps, he slipped around to the back door of the kitchen. He found -himself in the pantry; shelves of canned goods lined the walls, under -which were bins of vegetables, and the mirrored doors of the huge -ice-box took up one side of the room. During the hush that preceded the -saying of grace in the mess hall, he could hear Ellick whispering -directions to Leggy and his other dusky assistants, who were busied -dishing up the meal. This is what Blackie had counted upon, having the -kitchen crew so busy at this time that they would not see him. Hastily -he slipped a few potatoes and a can of peas into his shirt, and ran to -the ice-box. A cool, humid breath of air came out to him as he opened -the door and peered inside; it was dark within, and he felt about hoping -to locate something he could take. His hand touched a plate of cheese, -and he drew forth a good-sized chunk. There was a rattle of dishes from -the kitchen. Ellick’s voice came to his ears. - -“Leggy, you just hurry up now and bring in de butter from de ice-box!” - -Leggy’s dragging footsteps sounded across the floor. With frenzied haste -Blackie grabbed at whatever happened to be under his hand. It proved to -be a slice of ham. Slamming the ice-box door, he clattered across to the -exit and ran out of the skinny kitchen-helper’s sight. That had been a -close squeak! Pausing only to stuff the ham and cheese into the pockets -of his sweater, he darted around behind the wooden building that was -used for an ice-house and gained the rutted road that led toward the -mountains. Here he found his blanket roll and accouterments, slipped the -roll over his head and hooked the ax and lantern on his belt, and -trotted westward through the woods. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - THE HUT ON BLACK POND - - -Half a mile up the road, where it turned at right angles to climb the -mountainside, Blackie paused and took his first compass observation. His -course was northwest; but he remembered that if he looked at the compass -only now and then, he might go wide of his goal; the thing to do was to -take an observation, note a landmark ahead in line with the NW on the -compass, make straight for that place, and from there make a new -observation on another landmark. The little shifting needle showed him -that his first leg of the journey should take him diagonally up the -wooded mountain to a grayish, scarred slide of stones that showed ahead -in the dropping sun. He knew what that was, although he had never been -there. It was the terminal moraine Gil Shelton had pointed out to him -the day he had first landed in camp—the Devil’s Potato Patch, the -campers called it—a heap of blotched, round boulders known as a favorite -resort for rattlesnakes. - -Blackie knew he must hurry if he was to reach the Flatstone valley -before dark. Pausing only to stow his plundered supply of food more -snugly in his pockets and to shift his blanket-roll to the other -shoulder, he set off across an expanse of marshy pasture land toward his -first goal. The deer-flies swarmed about his face and neck, stinging -pitilessly, and he increased his pace as much as he could to get away -from them. He had been prudent enough to wear his heavy hiking shoes, -but in several places he floundered into muddy pools and sank into dirty -water over his ankles. At last he reached the heavily-wooded base of the -mountain, and was forced to slow down and begin a determined climb -through the underbrush, up ledges of yellow, mossy rock, and across -slippery patches of shale where he had to go slowly and watch his -footing. Half-way up the mountainside, he gained the bottom of the -terminal moraine. Huge rocks, gray with lichens and scratched in rough, -random designs, stretched above him; he was forced to leap precariously -from rock to rock, always upward, several times catching himself just in -time to avoid a nasty headlong fall. Once, indeed, he slipped on a bit -of moss, and toppled sidewise into a cranny between two of the boulders. -His blanket-roll saved his body from being more than bruised; but in -falling one hand slipped under his body, and his heavy electric -flash-lamp banged down upon a rock, crushing one of his finger-tips -badly. The darting pain brought tears to his eyes, and he shook the -injured finger violently. Scrambling to his feet for fear he might have -fallen close to the hiding-place of some vicious, venomous -timber-rattler, he struggled on over the great rocks; and after what -seemed like hours of toilsome climbing, he at last gained the top of the -first ridge. - -There, on the mountain’s top, the evening light was brighter, but in the -valley he had just left the shadows were long and cool. He turned and -faced toward the east. There was the lake, spreading like a polished -deep mirror that reflected the gold and blue evening sky, the serried -rows of trees along the margin. There were the ordered rows of white -tents, the top of the lodge roof with smoke wreathing lazily from the -stone chimney and with the bare flagpole standing up beyond. He could -see Camp Lenape as if it were a toy model spread out at his feet, almost -hidden in the gray-green foliage of the forest. A slight breeze brought -to him the faint clatter of trays from the mess hall, the confused hum -of campers’ voices. They would be almost finished supper, now. Wally and -Haviland and Gallegher and the rest would be sitting about the -mess-table, wondering where he had disappeared. Well, let them worry! - -The thought of supper made him remember that he had had nothing to eat -since dinner-time. He pulled out the piece of cheese he had looted from -the ice-box, and began gnawing upon it. He could eat a little while he -rested. He turned a bit to the left. Beyond the pasture-land he had -crossed on his flight, he saw a line of trees that marked a lane. He -knew that lane; it was the one which led to the hermit’s house, the road -he had followed the night he had heard murder done by the two tramps, -Reno and Lew. He could barely make out the weather-stained, mottled -shingles of the roof of the house, and shivered slightly. He would be -glad to go anywhere, anywhere away from the neighborhood of that grim -house of crime. - -Pulling out his compass, he marked a new line of march across the -undulating summit of the mountain. It pointed toward a blasted pine -taller than the rest, and he resolved to make for that. The going was -easier here on the mountain; the daylight was clearer, and the trees -were stunted and far apart, scrub pine and small oaks no more than -waist-high, for the most part. Blackie trotted along with assurance, -chewing upon a piece of raw ham torn from the slice in his pocket in -lieu of supper. He crossed a ravine and stumbled up the other side; this -took time, and now he could almost watch the sun dropping inch by inch -toward the line of trees in the west. There was not a sign that human -beings had ever passed that way; Blackie knew that no one ever -penetrated that desolate wilderness except deer-hunters and blueberry -pickers in the fall of the year. When he again gained level ground, he -found that somehow he had lost sight of the blasted pine he had picked -as a landmark. This did not trouble him much; he took out the compass -and again sighted toward the northwest. His finger was bothering him -more than anything else; the tip had swelled, and the nail was fast -turning an angry purple color. It felt double its size, and as the boy -swung along it throbbed and ached until Blackie was desperate with pain. - -He had covered about a mile and a half since landing on the plateau on -top of the ridge when he came to a section that was marked by long -wooded swales, rank with rotting vegetation, crossing his path. The sun -was dropping lower and lower; it shone like a flaming, bloody ball close -to the horizon, and its slanting rays blinded his eyes until the woods -about him seemed dim and unreal. He determined not to deviate from the -line he had laid for himself, for fear of getting off the track; and -when he came to the giant bole of a fallen tree, he tried to climb over -it instead of going yards around. The knobs and splinters of the rotting -trunk caught at his clothing and his equipment; while scrambling over -the top he slipped and fell prostrate across it, knocking the breath -from his lungs. A train of white ants crossed his arm, and when he -crawled slowly and clumsily to his feet, he felt their red-hot stings on -his wrist and up his sleeve. It seemed that the insects were everywhere -under his clothing, jabbing their poisoned darts of pain into his skin. -He jumped from the top of the trunk, landing on his face and scratching -it until it was crossed by bloody lines. The ground now became marshy, -and he was beset by a humming tribe of mosquitoes. Still he staggered -on, until brought to a stop by a spread of green, scummy water that -barred his path completely. - -Blackie considered. At the rate the sun was disappearing, and at the -rate he was taking to make a few miles across the mountains, he would -never reach Newmiln by dark. It would mean a night alone in this -unexplored region, a night of fighting mosquitoes and unceasing -watchfulness for rattlesnakes, night-prowling animals, and perhaps -worse. He remembered all the tales he had ever heard of lone travellers -caught at nightfall in strange and desolate solitudes, of attacks by -bears, wolves, ghosts of slain Indians. And suddenly, like a chilling -cloak, fear came to him and enveloped him. He felt the short hairs of -his neck rise and prickle; an icy finger trailed down his spine. He -would have to get on; he must cross the swamp somehow, anyhow! - -The water in the slimy pool was only a few inches deep; through the -green scum he could see the muddy, coated bottom. Feverishly he looked -about him, and seized a number of fallen branches that lay on the -ground, filled with the idea of making a rough bridge by casting them -across the few feet of swamp ahead. He worked furiously, and soon had a -network of branches thrown ahead, across which he hoped to run and so -gain the far side. There was no room behind him for a clear take-off; it -would have to be a standing jump. He stood for a second, getting up his -nerve; and with a leap he landed upon the center of the improvised -bridge. There was a snapping crackle of branches—the ones he had chosen -were ground branches, and rotten. They gave under his feet, breaking and -sinking into the mud; and he fell headlong on his face into the sticky -ooze. - -The swamp was a sucking enemy, trying to drag him under and hold him -close, until the foul waters should close over his head; it bubbled -under him, seeming to chuckle like a fiend. Frantically he fought his -way to an upright position; he was standing almost waist-deep in the -slime. Urged on by fear, he floundered forward, caught at an overhanging -bush, and pulled himself slowly to firm ground. There he lay for a -minute, gasping with exhaustion and terror after his exertion. The lower -half of his body was soaked with filthy mud; his face and blanket-roll -were draggled and stained from his fall. But he must not stop; he must -push on, onward to the northwest! - -For ten minutes he wandered through the marshy swales, avoiding the -frequent pools whenever he could. The forest was too thick for him to -spot any landmark ahead, and he gave up the idea of climbing a tree for -an observation, because it would take up too much of his precious time. -At last the ground sloped upward again; open spaces began to appear; the -footing was easier. He pushed on, deadly afraid to halt in that -darkening place of horror. - -Blackie never remembered afterwards very much what he did during the -remainder of that twilight march. He had a picture of himself—a hungry, -weary, frightened figure, dwarfed by the bigness and ominous vastness of -that solitude, caked with drying muck, scratched with twigs and thorns, -and ever followed by a cloud of stinging mosquitoes—fighting his way -through the desolation. He had the feeling of one in a nightmare, when -the dreamer is pursued by darkness and nameless horrors, and the very -ground seems to rise and clutch and hold him back. And he remembered -coming to the edge of the rhododendron thickets and feeling that he -could not go on. - -The tangled network of the rhododendrons fronted an implacable barrier -to his steps. There was no way to go around. It offered little -resistance as he first plunged into it, but as steadily as he advanced, -as surely did the branching horns of the shrub take hold on him. It was -like trying to walk through a gigantic wickerwork basket, woven of tough -and intertwined saplings. Again and again he plunged like a line-bucking -football guard, and inch by inch fought his way. In one place he tried -to stoop and crawl beneath the clutching branches, and was caught among -the roots as in a vise, until he felt that he could move neither forward -nor backward, but would have to stay imprisoned in that dusky brake -until he died of thirst and starvation. He gave a frantic heave, and was -free to fight his way further. The shadows were lengthening; the clock -of the sky warned him that his time was short. - -In the midst of his trouble he began talking desperately to himself; and -finally he broke into high-pitched, shouting song. Over and over again -he roared out to the brooding silence of the woods every hymn-tune he -had ever heard. Ridiculously, he thought this would protect him from the -unnamed evils of the place, and the singing certainly bolstered his -courage. - - “Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide, - The darkness deepens—Lord, with me abide——” - -He had lost his hat, he did not remember where. Plunge—plunge—forward -through the gripping coppice! - - “When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, - Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!” - -At last! He gave a wild cry and broke through the last entangling -thicket, and the rhododendrons crackled closed behind him. He was free -again! - -He did not pause to take any more compass courses, or to straighten his -clothing or pack, or to snatch a bite of food. He broke into a -staggering run. His flight took him for about half a mile, into the -bloodshot eye of the sun. He was dripping with perspiration, and heaving -great shaking sobs. A fallen pine tripped him and he rolled heavily down -a steep bank. When he picked himself up he found that he was standing on -a dimly-traced path through the woods—a bare, almost invisible trail, -but a path nevertheless, leading in what he thought was the direction he -should follow. - -A path meant that humans passed that way at some time or another, and -might lead to habitations and possible discovery. But the forest terrors -so clouded the boy’s mind that he welcomed any companionship, no matter -what kind. It would at least give him company and allies against the -loneliness that beset him. It was growing dark; a blue jay somewhere -overhead was bickering to himself among the pine branches. Blackie -trotted down the path. - -It led him along a wooded ledge of naked rock, and down across a marshy -flat place where a brook widened and lost itself in a dense hedge of -rushes. He crossed on a series of flat stones, and ascended a little -hill. One look, and he gave a shout of surprise. - -There, spread before him beyond the margin of the reeds, was a long flat -sheet of water, a mountain tarn whose unruffled surface, like a plate of -polished steel, gave off the last dying beams of sunset. He had come too -far to the south; he was off the course he had laid for Newmiln Center. -This must be Black Pond, the long body of water he had seen marked on -the map in the camp lodge. - -The pond, hidden among the rocks and dark trees of the mountain, at no -time had a friendly look; now, at nightfall, it presented to the weary -boy a face full of sinister threat. He was several miles out of his way; -further progress that night was impossible. He would have to camp here -on Black Pond. - -He was just turning away to locate a camping place, when his eye was -caught by something which he had not noticed in his brief survey of the -pond and its surroundings. Through the trees to the right a thin wisp of -smoke was curling up in a languid spiral. - -Someone was camping beside the pond! Blackie did not hesitate; the fear -of spending the night alone offered no choice. He ran to the end of the -path. There, beside the still waters of Black Pond, was a small shack -rudely knocked together from rough pine slabs and chinked with moss. The -spreading wings and steel-edged talons of a hawk, shot at some time or -another, were nailed to the wall near the low door, in the usual -back-country fashion. The smoke of a fire came from a stone chimney at -one end. A small rowboat with a puddle in the bottom was drawn up on the -muddy shore. - -Blackie paused for a moment. He didn’t like the looks of the place, but -beggars can’t be choosers; it was now quite dark, and the smoke -indicated a cheery fire inside. Some hunter or fisherman, who used this -small hut for his camp, must be inside. Blackie tiptoed to the door and -knocked hesitantly. - -From beyond the rough barrier came a startled grunt, the sound of a body -moving swiftly across the hut. Blackie knocked again, growing more and -more concerned as the silence continued. - -With a sudden jerk the door was flung open, and a man’s figure appeared -outlined in the firelight, with one arm menacingly upraised, wielding -what seemed to be a short iron bar. Blackie Thorne stared, and gave a -shrill scream of fright. - -He was looking in the face of the man called Reno, one of the two tramps -he had overheard on the night of the snipe hunt planning to rob old -Rattlesnake Joe of his imaginary treasure! He could plainly see the -seamed face, the gray unshaven jowls, and the green eye-patch of that -sinister character. - -The tramp was as surprised as the boy. “In the devil’s name, it’s a -kid!” he bellowed. “A kid, Lew! Nab ’im, quick!” He made a dive for -Blackie, but the boy, pulled by terror, had already taken to his legs -back up the path—away, away from that evil face in the hut. He stumbled -frantically through the dark—the further away from Black Pond, the -better! Behind him he could hear the baffled howling of Reno. He would -escape yet—— - -He stumbled, felt a pair of gripping arms about him, holding him tight -so that he could not struggle. A hoarse voice called, “Here he is, Reno! -Got the bloody little rat!” - -“Good!” came the response. “Bring ’im here to the light. If he’s a spy, -I’ll pull out his little throat, blast ’im!” - -Helpless and too weary to fight any more, Blackie felt himself being -picked up roughly and carried toward the hut on Black Pond that was the -hiding-place of the two murderous vagabonds who had done to death the -harmless old hermit of the Lenape hills. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - ROBBERY BY NIGHT - - -“Bring ’im over here to the fire, Lew,” directed Reno, “and we’ll just -have a look at his ugly mug.” - -The younger tramp carried Blackie to the hearth and threw him down on -his back, still gripping him about the body with both hands. Reno, the -man with the patch over his eye, stood up against the fireplace the bar -he had been using as a weapon. Blackie recognized that bar at once. It -was the object the hermit had shown them when the campers visited -him—his prized “thunderbolt” that had been the direct cause of his -death. Dazed, he watched Reno stir up the fire and draw forth a blazing -brand which he held up for a torch, close to the boy’s features. - -“Glory be, it’s just a young kid!” snorted Lew. “From the way he was -fightin’ me, I thought it was a wildcat at least! What’s he doin’ here?” - -Reno spat, wiped his mouth, and swore terribly with his face close to -Blackie’s. “You, now! Who sent you here?” - -“N-N-Nobody,” the boy managed to stammer. - -“No tricks, now!” warned the loathsome tramp. “If you’re alone, what are -you doin’ here?” - -Blackie was terribly frightened, but kept his head. These men were -dangerous; he was alone with them, miles from any help. They could not -guess that of all the people in the world, he alone had witnessed the -death of the hermit at their hands. But if he admitted that he came from -Camp Lenape, they would wonder why he was away from camp by himself, and -would suspect that there were others near. He must depend upon his wits, -now; and with the shadow of the great lie at camp hanging over him, he -felt that one lie more or less would not matter now. - -“I’m on the road, Mister Reno,” he said. “I didn’t know you were -here—I’m bumming around by myself, honest!” - -The tramp laughed nastily. “On the road, huh? Well, we need a kid about -your size. Stick with us, see, and you’ll be rich some day. Frisk ’im, -Lew.” - -The weak-chinned man called Lew was rapidly going through Blackie’s -pockets and unstrapping his belt. “We’re in luck!” he said. “Grub and a -light and blankets! An ax, too; the kid can use it to chop more wood for -our fire. Look, Reno—we’ll have a regular banquet—peas and ham and -spuds!” - -“About time,” yawned Reno, moving back to the fire. “Get a move on and -dish up supper. Blast my eyes if I ain’t sick to death of livin’ on fish -and berries.” - -Lew permitted Blackie to get up. “Well, what did ya expect to live on -while we was waitin’ for the Big Job to blow over——” he began, but Reno -stopped him with a hasty gesture. - -“Shut up! If the sheriff was to hear ya say that——” he threatened. Lew -turned away, muttering, and with Blackie’s hand-ax chopped open the can -of peas and began cooking the meal at the fire. - -Blackie, unharmed for the present but stripped of his supply of food and -all his equipment, was allowed to sit in a corner and wonder how he -could get out of his plight. Escape for the present was impossible; he -was too closely guarded to get out of the hut, and even if he did so, he -would be lost in the dark wilderness where every horror in the world -might lurk. - -The supper cooked, the two tramps set to in surly silence and gobbled up -every scrap of food Blackie had brought. He did not dare ask for a -share, but hungrily watched them devour the meal to the last morsel. -Reno finished first, wiped his greasy mouth on the back of his sleeve, -yawned loudly, took one of Blackie’s blankets and an old quilt he picked -up somewhere, and laid out his bed on the floor of the hut. His back was -against the low door, the only means of exit from the place, and before -turning in, he took the ax and placed it under his ragged coat, which he -had doubled to serve as a pillow. Lew, leaving the dirty dishes on the -rough table, took the remaining blanket and sprawled out on the floor -near the fire. - -Blackie ventured a question. “Excuse me, Mister,” he said, “but where -can I sleep?” - -Reno rolled over and glowered. “A lot I’d care if ya never slept, ya -dirty whelp! Shut yer face!” - -“But—you have all the blankets, and——” - -Lew reached out a booted foot and kicked the boy viciously. “I’ll kill -ya if ya don’t stow yer gab!” he growled. “Kids like you don’t need -covers. If I hear any more out of ya, I’ll jam my foot in yer mush!” - -Blackie spent that unforgettable night squatting on the hearth beside -the fireplace. Now and then he would drift off into a restless sleep, -troubled by dreadful dreams and startled awakenings. His finger-tip -ached continually, and the nail had turned so black that he knew he -would lose it. He crouched miserably by the dead fire, shivering from -the damp chill that rose from the pond and listening to the heavy -breathing of the two sleepers who barred his way to escape. His teeth -chattered as much from fear as from the cold, for he could not forget -that he was in the terrible company of a pair of desperate murderers who -would twist his throat if they guessed he knew anything about their -crime. Once he dreamed that he was back in Camp Lenape, lying stretched -out in his bunk at Tattoo, with the stars bright over the pines, the -friendly feel of happy boys about him, and Wally sitting beside the -tent-pole reading vespers out of his Bible. He woke with a start, and -saw the two ugly figures sprawled on the floor in the dim firelight. -Camp was behind him; he had left all that, and was “on the road.” His -cheeks were wet; he had been crying softly to himself in his sleep. - -Gray dawn came at last. The two hoboes roused themselves, and permitted -Blackie to wash his face and hands at the edge of the pond, making fun -of him for a delicate greenhorn as they watched him. Shortly after, Reno -disappeared into the woods and after about an hour, returned with a hat -full of huckleberries, upon which he and Lew breakfasted, neither -offering any to Blackie nor allowing him to find any for himself. He was -not out of the sight of one of them during that whole dragging day. Save -for a muttered curse or a blow on the head, they treated him as though -he did not exist. The men played with a grimy deck of cards most of the -morning, making large wagers against each other and swearing -blasphemously when they lost, although the boy could not see that either -of them had a penny to win or lose. Around noon, as near as Blackie -could judge, Lew took a fishing line and rowed out upon the pond in the -leaky old boat. He was gone for several hours. Reno spent the time -chewing tobacco and playing a game of solitaire, or else snoring with -his back against the door. - -Lew returned from his fishing expedition empty-handed and in an ugly -humor, and conferred with the older tramp in muttered whispers. Blackie -was driven to the other end of the small hut while they spoke, but -listened as hard as he could and managed to catch a word now and then. -Once he heard distinctly the phrase, “Flatstone Creek,” and again, “the -kid can do it.” At the end of the talk, Reno rose angrily and shouted, -“I’m sick of yer snivelling like a yellow cur! The whole thing has all -blown over by now—anyways, they haven’t anything on us to prove we done -it!” He began stamping out the fire, rolled the blankets in an ungainly -bundle, and stuck the ax in his belt. Lew also made up his blankets, to -which he attached the flash-lamp. - -“Here, you kid!” he said, “grab these bundles and tote ’em for us. We’re -clearin’ out of here.” - -This completed the preparations for departure. Leaving the hut in a -litter, with the door hanging open, the two tramps led the way north -around the edge of the pond, followed by Blackie, who stumbled along -blindly under the burden of the blankets and quilt and the lantern. Reno -led at a lazy gait, turning west after the end of Black Pond was rounded -and strolling through the forested ridge for about three hours. At each -step Blackie grew more weary; he was, after more than twenty-four hours -of fasting, almost ready to keel over with starvation. He was only -allowed to drop his bundles and rest a few minutes now and then, when -the men felt like stopping. He had no idea where the hoboes were going -or what they intended to do. - -At sundown, Reno called a halt. Blackie wondered if the mountain would -ever end. He threw down the blankets and fell upon them wearily; but to -his surprise the two tramps lay on their faces and peered out westward -through a clump of bushes. His curiosity overcoming his fatigue, Blackie -crawled over to their side, dodged a kick from Lew, and looked in the -direction Reno was pointing with outstretched arm. - -They were on the edge of a steep bluff fronting on a pretty little green -valley in the center of which ran the silver ribbon of a brook. Beyond -rose, purple-clad, a low range of hills that Blackie judged might fringe -the Delaware. He was sure the creek below must be the Flatstone—they had -been heading into the sunset for the past hour. To the boy, enslaved by -the loathsome vagrants and unable to escape from their abuse and -dangerous company, the peaceful valley looked like a promised land. -Green, cool pastures spread on each side of the brook, where cattle -grazed, fat little cows looking small enough, viewed from the grim -cliff, to have come out of a toy Noah’s ark. - -Almost under them, at the base of the steep mountainside, a white -farmhouse lay near an orchard of gnarled apple trees fronting on a -yellow dirt road running north and south. Across the road was a rambling -red barn, a farmyard full of chickens, and the remains of an old -lime-kiln. - -“That’s the place I saw yesterday,” said Reno. “Nobody there at night -but the old guy and his wife—the hired man lives up at the Center. I -found out that much.” - -“I’m starved,” muttered Lew. “How long have we got to wait?” - -“Aw, these hicks go to bed early. If we wait a couple hours, they’ll be -so much asleep you couldn’t wake ’em up with a cannon. We’ll take -anything they got, and then beat it over to Pennsylvania for a while. -Lots of good places across the river where we can lay low—this district -will be gettin’ too hot to hold us pretty soon.” - -Nothing further was said for some time. Smoke curled from the chimney of -the farmhouse; evidently the people inside were eating dinner. A hearty -country meal it would be, Blackie thought, and his mouth watered as he -visioned smoking joints of meat, thick bread and jam, rich creamy milk, -golden-crusted slabs of pie, corn and squash and pickles and beets, -chocolate cake—— He tried to pass the time thinking of all the dishes in -the world that he liked; but soon had to stop because of the clawing -pangs of hunger that gripped him. - -Reno and Lew lay watching the house like wolves awaiting the coming of -night before attacking a defenseless sheepfold. Once a horse-drawn buggy -with one occupant passed along the road, driving away from the Center -that showed dimly as a cluster of white houses and a church tower to the -north, where a bridge spanned the stream. The sun disappeared; a few -lights blinked forth in the house below, giving it a cheerful, friendly -look amidst the mysterious dark of the valley. - -Blackie, left to himself, thought of nothing but the chances of escape -from the ugly pair he had been thrown in with by the fortunes of the -road. If he could squirm away unnoticed, and make a sudden dash down the -side of the cliff, he might get clear and find his way to one of the -houses in the valley. He was more than willing to risk a broken ankle in -the dark to win free of the tramps. He rolled over as quietly as he -could, and began to worm his way across the ground; but he made the -mistake of putting his weight upon a branch which snapped and gave way -beneath him, and Reno jumped up and caught him by the collar with a -snarl. - -“No tricks like that, my hearty!” he muttered. “Try that again, and -you’ll be black and blue for a month! I’ll skin ya, so I will!” - -Blackie bowed his head under a rain of blows that stunned him and made -his ears ring. He lay quietly after that, and did not move until, after -about an hour, the two men rose to their feet with an air of -determination. By this time the lights in the farmhouse below had -disappeared, one by one; evidently the inhabitants were all fast asleep. -Reno led the way to the left, picking his path by the aid of Blackie’s -flash-lantern shielded under his coat; Blackie followed, still stumbling -beneath the weight of the blankets; while Lew brought up the rear, -cursing softly when he stumbled on the treacherous ground. They picked -their way down the steep slope of the mountainside, and after half an -hour of slow going, came out on the dirt road near the barn. Here Reno -snapped off the light, and without even a moon to guide them the tramps, -like the thieves and night marauders they were, sneaked cautiously -through the orchard until they reached the back of the farmhouse, and -stopped a few yards from the low cellar-door. - -Here they paused for a brief consultation, and then Reno crept toward -the house, while Lew watched him, meanwhile holding Blackie’s arm in a -vise-like grip. No sooner had he vanished in the direction of the house -than the night was full of the rousing bark of a dog. - -“Curse the luck——” began Lew; but on the instant the bark died away in a -blood-curdling, stricken howl; and afterwards there was silence again. -He listened in a strained attitude, still clutching Blackie, who could -hear his heart beat so loudly that it seemed as if the inhabitants of -the house must hear those throbbing thumps between his ribs and waken in -alarm. Finally Reno came back to them, moving like a shadow in the -starlight. - -“It’s all clear!” Blackie heard him whisper hoarsely. “The watch-dog -heard me and almost give the show away, but I cut his throat right -quick. I tried all the doors and windows, and everything is tight as a -drum—but there’s a little window in the kitchen that the kid might be -able to get through.” - -“Send him along,” said Lew. “Does he know what to do?” - -“He’d better know!” whispered Reno sharply. “Listen, kid—ya got to help -us. I’m goin’ to boost ya through a window into the kitchen, and you -pass out all the grub you can find. While I was around lookin’ at the -windows, I found a gunny-sack they use for a doormat, and we can stuff -it full of grub and take it with us.” - -“But—but that’s stealing!” exclaimed Blackie. - -Reno grasped his throat swiftly, and choked the words in the boy’s -throat. “Shut yer trap—do ya want the whole house down on us? And what -if it is stealin’? Ya ain’t above that, are ya, ya little ladylike -brat?” - -“But what if they catch me in there?” moaned Blackie through his teeth. - -“Ya better not let them catch ya, that’s all. But let me tell ya, it’d -be a sight better to have the old farmer catch ya and put a shotgun full -of buckshot into ya than to come back to me without a pile of grub!” -There was an edged threat in his voice, and Blackie did not dare say -another word. If only he had stayed at camp and obeyed the rules, he -would not now have to choose between robbing a house and being beaten -within an inch of his life by a murderous tramp! - -He allowed Reno to push him around to a small, high window at the rear -of the house. “There it is, kid,” whispered the man in his ear, “and if -ya see anything else worth takin’, pass it out to me!” He lifted the boy -to the ledge, and Blackie fumbled with the catch. The window opened -outwards with a slight creaking noise, leaving an aperture about half a -yard square. Making no further protest, which he knew would be useless, -Blackie squirmed through after some trouble, and lowered himself slowly -into the silent kitchen of the sleeping house. He had a new plan in his -head now, and permitting himself to be pushed inside the farmhouse was a -necessary part of it. It was his duty to rouse the owner of the farm and -warn him of the danger lurking without. If there was a telephone in the -place, perhaps help could be speedily summoned in time to capture the -murderers outside; if not, at least the house could be barricaded and -the tramps driven off. The farmer would give Blackie shelter for the -night, he hoped, and anyway he would be free of the domination and -driving of the two vagrants; but unless the farmer was awakened with -care and quickly comprehended what Blackie would tell him, he might -misunderstand and take the boy for a robber before he could explain. -Nevertheless, Blackie felt that he must carry out his plan no matter at -what danger to himself. - -He found himself in a sort of pantry leading off from the spacious farm -kitchen. A low red fire still glowed in the stove, and he could make out -the walls lined with jars and cans and boxes and cooking utensils of all -kinds. A low hiss from the window warned him that Reno was still on the -lookout. He would have to work rapidly. - -Looking about him hastily in the dull light, he found a door that seemed -to lead to the other parts of the house. Tiptoeing across the uncarpeted -floor one careful step at a time, he reached the door and entered a long -hallway. This he followed for a yard or two, feeling his way along the -wall, until his hand touched a railing that seemed to be part of the -front stairs. He would have to climb those stairs to reach the bedrooms. -He advanced one foot cautiously, and was just climbing the first step, -when a loose board in the floor creaked with a sickening noise. It -sounded to the terrified boy like the crack of Doom. - -Instantly his feet were knocked out from under him as a heavy body -leaped at him like a football tackle, and he fell with a toppling crash -to the floor. Someone was upon him, holding him in a resistless clutch! -The wind was knocked from his lungs, and he gagged and fought for -breath. The stabbing glare of a flashlight hit his eyes. - -Then the strangest event of all that strange night happened. His unknown -assailant gave a little whistle of surprise, and broke forth into -speech. Only one word, but that word the boy’s name. - -“Blackie!” - -The flashlight twisted around; the stranger was showing it upon his own -face. Blackie gasped, and almost shrieked with relief. The person who -had captured him in that dark, lonely farmhouse was his own tent leader, -Wally Rawn! - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - THE SPRING-HOUSE - - -“Wally! What are you doing here?” - -Wally Rawn relaxed his iron grip and helped Blackie to his feet. In the -glow of the flashlight the boy could see that Wally was fully-dressed in -corduroy trousers, blue flannel shirt, and high woodsman’s boots with -laces dangling. The councilor must have thrown his clothes on in a -hurry. - -“I might ask the same of you, Blackie,” he said with a slight grin. -“Have you become a burglar all of a sudden?” - -The words recalled Blackie to his mission in the farmhouse. “Shh! Not so -loud—they’re still outside!” - -“Who’s outside?” - -“The two tramps! They’re the ones that killed poor old Rattlesnake Joe, -and they made me climb in the window to steal some food for them. The -older one stabbed the dog outside so he wouldn’t wake the house, and——” - -Wally pursed his lips in a low whistle. “So that’s who shut up the dog -so suddenly! The barking woke me up, and I thought I’d prowl around here -and see what was happening. You say these men are—murderers?” - -“Yes—the sheriff is after them! Don’t let them catch me again, Wally! -They kicked and beat me all the time, and wouldn’t let me have anything -to eat, and I’m scared of them!” - -“Don’t worry—they can’t get in here. But if the sheriff wants these men, -we might have a try at capturing them. You say they’re waiting for you -outside? Well, you might be able to get them to bite on the hook. Are -you game to take a chance on locking them up where they belong?” - -Blackie’s face fell. “Why, sure, I’ll try if you help me. But how can I -catch them? They’d kill me in a minute if they thought I was giving them -away.” - -Wally considered. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed softly. “Listen—out there -in the orchard there’s a spring-house where the farmer’s wife keeps -butter and meat and stuff to cool. I remember it has a strong lock on -the door. If you could get them in there, and snap the bolt on them, we -could hold them there until Kingdom Come. It’ll be touch-and-go with you -if you can’t get them inside, but a pair like that should be under lock -and key as soon as possible. Will you try?” - -Blackie nodded. “If you think that’s the best way——” - -“Good. I’ll wake up the old man, and we’ll be on the lookout at an -upstairs window to protect you in case the scheme doesn’t work. We can’t -show ourselves or they’ll get suspicious and we’ll never have the chance -again. Now, skip back to the kitchen—they’ll be wondering where you -went. Good luck!” - -Wally began to tiptoe silently up the stairs, and Blackie hastened back -down the hallway to the kitchen. On his way to the pantry window he -grabbed two or three jars of preserved vegetables and a loaf of bread. -He found Reno at the window, almost crazy at the delay. - -“What took ya so long, ya little fool?” he raged under his breath. “I -thought I heard noises inside, and thought ya were bagged for sure.” - -Blackie handed out the jars. “I was just looking around for grub, Mister -Reno,” he said. “There isn’t very much here—at least I can’t find it in -the dark. This is all I saw.” - -Reno grew ferocious with anger. “Well, that’s better than nothin’—but -after all our trouble, all ya could get was a mouthful! I’ll fix you for -this later! Come on, climb out—don’t stand here jabberin’ all night!” - -He helped the boy out through the narrow window, and together they crept -back to where Lew was standing guard. - -“Any trouble?” he asked. - -“Aw, the brat couldn’t find enough to make a lunch for a flea.” Reno -held out the jars and the bread. “We’ll have to try this game somewheres -else.” - -Disgruntled, he led the way back through the orchard toward the road. -Blackie could barely make out the white-washed side of the spring-house -to their left. He plucked Reno’s ragged sleeve. - -“Say, I bet that place is full of grub! Let’s have a look!” - -Reno turned with a sneer. “Go and see.” - -Blackie knew that if he argued, it might breed suspicion. He waded -through the tall grass to the low door and felt its rough face with his -hand. Sure enough; the outside bore a strong bolt. As he opened the -door, a draft of chill, damp air came forth, mingled with the smell of -fresh cream and cheese. He stumbled in. - -It was the usual type of country spring-house. In the center bubbled up -a rill of icy water that was contained in a deep stone basin, filled -with tall cans of milk. The two men, attracted by Blackie’s easy -entrance into the place, followed him quickly, and found him busily -gobbling a generous chunk of apple pie, washing it down with milk from a -pitcher at his elbow. Hungry as he was, however, Blackie had not lost -sight of the deed he had to do; it was part of his plan to entice the -men inside. Lew rose to the bait, and began seizing foodstuffs with both -hands; but Reno cautiously stood square in the doorway, covering the -retreat. His mouth full, Blackie pushed past him, stuffing cookies into -his pockets. - -“Pass the stuff out, Lew,” Reno was saying “I’ll stick it all in our bag -here.” - -Blackie had meanwhile gained the outside, and stood facing the back of -the man in the doorway. “Why don’t you go in too, Mister Reno?” he -asked. “You might miss something if you don’t.” - -Something in his tone made the man whirl about suspiciously. “What do -you mean, you little roach? If you think you can——” - -Blackie saw his only chance, and took it. With a sturdy rush, he butted -against Reno’s legs. The tramp, caught off balance, grabbed at the -doorway to right himself, and Blackie, with all the force of his body -behind it, plunged his doubled fist into the man’s stomach. It was a -lucky blow that landed right on the solar plexus, and for a moment Reno -was paralyzed. He gave a pained grunt and keeled backwards into Lew, who -fell over a tall milk-can and tumbled sidewise into the pool of icy -water. Before either of them could flounder to their feet, Blackie had -slammed the strong door and shot the bolt upon his prisoners. - -He sat down in the trampled, dewy grass, overcome with the reaction that -sets in after a trying period of strain and excitement. And suddenly, -without knowing why, he began to laugh, laugh until his sides hurt, -unable to stop. - -Wally Rawn came to him on the run from the house, carrying a -long-barreled shotgun in his hands. He tested the soundness of the lock -on the spring-house door, and then clapped Blackie on the shoulder. - -“Neat work, son! You’ve got them shut up in there like a couple of -sardines in a can. Say, what’s the matter with your funny bone?” - -“He—he looked so crazy!” gurgled the boy. “I knocked the wind out of -Reno, and he fell over and pushed Lew into the water!” - -From within the spring-house came an angry racket. Reno must have -scrambled to his feet again and was shouting at the door; both men were -cursing a blue streak, and Reno was making the most terrifying threats -as to what he should do if Blackie did not release the bolt on the -instant. - -Wally patted Blackie’s arm soothingly. “Don’t you worry your head about -that.” He stepped to the door and called commandingly, “Listen, you -inside there! I’ve got a gun here, and if you make one more sound I’ll -wing you both! You’re here to stay, and don’t forget it!” - -The serious depth of his voice must have impressed them, for they -maintained a puzzled silence while Wally strolled back to Blackie with a -cheerful smile. - -“Guess that’ll stop their howling for a while. Now, as I was telling -you, I woke up the old farmer—he was snoring away as peaceful as a -sheep—and now he’s telephoning to Sheriff Manders at the Center. The -sheriff will be along in his car as soon as he can make it, and until -then I guess these birds will stay in their cage. They’d better!” he -finished grimly. “Now tell me how you happened to be housebreaking here -in the dead of night in such bad company.” - -Growing more calm, Blackie began his tale, relating how on the night of -the snipe hunt he had overheard the two hoboes planning to rob the old -hermit, and how he had followed them and heard the scuffle in the house -and the scream which had driven him to fly in horror. - -“You should have told me or the Chief about that,” was Wally’s only -comment. “It would have saved a lot of trouble.” - -“I was too scared,” confessed Blackie, “and besides it all seemed like a -dream that couldn’t be true.” - -He told briefly how he had fallen in with the tramps again at Black -Pond, and how they had later forced him to enter the house to plunder -it. When he had finished, Wally said nothing for a while, but shook his -head once or twice in somber amusement. - -“Well,” he said finally, “guess after all these adventures you won’t -mind going back to old Lenape for a rest. I’ve come to take you back to -Tent Four.” - -“But—how did you know where I was? Why are you here?” - -“I didn’t know where you were, but I had a pretty good guess. You -slipped away from camp, and I figured it was up to me to catch you -again. The Chief sent Mr. Lane in the car toward Elmville to look out -for you along the road to the railway, and there were quite a number of -fellows scouting around for your tracks on the campus. I wasted some -time after supper down at the south end of the lake, thinking you might -have headed that way toward home, and it wasn’t until this morning that -I got the brilliant idea that you would head right into the big timber -for a while. I found your trail up on the ridge, and believe me, you hit -some pretty rough going in spots! Right in the middle of a swamp I found -a hat with your name on it, stuck in some bushes; and then I knew my -guess was right. But after clawing my way through a regular jungle of -rhododendrons I lost your track, and naturally thinking you would make -for Newmiln, I raced over to the Center. I had no idea you would swing -down into Black Pond.” - -“What did you do then? Gee, you must have been a wizard to follow me -that far!” - -“I spent the rest of the day sweeping the Flatstone valley for traces of -you; I knew that if you had passed this way somebody must have seen you. -When I got no news, I came back over this side and the old farmer—his -name’s Jacob Woods, and he’s a friend of mine; I brought a group of -bikers over here last year—he offered to let me stay here to-night and -to go back into the mountain with me in the morning to look for you. He -was telling me tales of lost hunters and mysterious accidents back in -these hills until I almost went out to look for you with a lantern. It -was just a crazy coincidence that your hobo friends decided to pick this -house for their midnight robbery—but I’m glad I was the one that hopped -on you in the dark; somebody else might have been rough.” - -Blackie had been drinking in every word. “Say, Wally,” he said, “those -tramps are awful quiet. I wonder if they’re up to anything?” - -“We’ll see.” Wally, with his gun held at ready, circled about the little -stone building warily, and was just in time to see Lew, the weak-chinned -younger tramp, sticking his head through an aperture he had made by -removing a stone where the overflow from the spring found its way out. -“Get back there, you!” shouted Wally. He pretended to aim a kick, and -the startled hobo, who had counted on tearing away the stones and -escaping by the back way, withdrew his head so speedily that he bumped -it. Wally closed the opening with several rocks. - -The sound of an auto horn from the road made Blackie jump. “That must be -the sheriff!” cried Wally. “Hi! Over this way, Mr. Manders! Over here in -the orchard!” - -Three men came tramping across through the grass, two of them carrying -rifles. The taller of them Blackie recognized as the man who had been -conferring with the Chief on that fateful rainy Tuesday when he had -fought with Chink and smoked with Gallegher. It was Sheriff Manders, and -he pulled out two pairs of handcuffs while Wally was explaining things -to him. Another man he introduced as his deputy, a rugged farmer with -red chin-whiskers showing in the light of the lantern he carried. The -third, garbed in a pair of overalls hastily donned over his -night-clothing, proved to be Mr. Woods, owner of the farm, who since -telephoning had been watching at the roadside to direct the officers of -the law as soon as they arrived. - -The sheriff heard Wally to the end, and then turned to Blackie. “You’re -a real smart boy, if what Mr. Rawn says is true. I’ll be over to your -camp-ground later and get your affidavit on all you’ve told him; and -likely you’ll be wanted at the trial.” - -He stamped over to the door and knocked upon it loudly. “In the name of -the law, I call upon you to submit to arrest!” - -When the door was flung open, two cowed and shaken vagabonds shambled -out to face the weapons of Wally and the officers. Their short -imprisonment had broken what spirit of bravado they possessed, and under -the watchful eyes of the law they appeared as a brace of craven and -revolting blackguards caught in the midst of crime. They submitted to -being handcuffed, and were bundled off toward the car in short order. - -“I’ll go with you and see these fellows safe in jail,” volunteered -Wally. “No—you won’t be needed, Blackie; you’ve done more than your -share this night. You just trot off to bed with Mr. Woods here, and -forget all about everything.” - -He disappeared after the two prisoners and their guards, leaving Blackie -with the aged farmer. The latter led Blackie back to the house, where -his wife was fussing about the kitchen in a faded red wrapper, stirring -up the fire and raising a most tantalizing smell of cooking. Mr. Woods, -with rare forbearance, did not bother Blackie with questions, but every -now and then he caught the farmer looking at him with a puzzled frown, -shaking his head and muttering to himself, “Wal, who would have thought -it?” His wife mothered Blackie, making him wash his face and hands and -seating him at the table, where she piled hot food before him and -watched him gorge himself on sausage and fried potatoes, pressing him to -eat more pie and cookies until he felt as though his eyes must be -bulging with repletion. When he could eat no more, she packed him off -upstairs to bed, and left him with a gentle good-night. He undressed, -almost dozing off once or twice in the process, climbed into a high -four-poster bed, and lay snugly stretched out under a -brilliantly-colored old-fashioned crazy quilt. He fell asleep as soon as -his head touched the pillow. - -A short time later Wally returned and woke him to say that he had seen -the tramps safely under lock and key in the jail at Newmiln Center, and -that he need not worry any more. Blackie hardly heard the words before -he was asleep again. Wally blew out the lamp and crawled in beside the -sleeping boy, and once more all was peaceful in the farmhouse at the -foot of the mountain. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - THE LAST RACE - - -Blackie and Wally were up at the first crack of dawn; it was to prove an -active day for them, and they had no mind to get a late start. After a -hearty breakfast provided by Mrs. Woods, they took the road south on -foot. The grateful farmer offered to harness his team and drive them -back to camp, but Wally knew that he was needed to tend his stock, and -courteously refused. - -“We’ll take the road down the valley and over the mountains,” explained -Wally as the two hiked side by side down the yellow road. “It’s a bit -longer than straight over the ridge, but we’ll avoid a lot of tough -going, and save time in the long run.” - -Blackie was not sorry to be tramping along in Wally’s company on that -bright summer morning. His clothing had been neatly brushed and cleaned -by the farmer’s motherly wife, and his rescued blankets were strapped -over one shoulder. The sky was a lustrous, enamelled blue; the fields -and thickets sparkled with dewdrops; and a cheerful chorus of birds -chirruped a marching song for them. The way led down the valley of the -Flatstone, running on a wooded height above the wandering creek. -Occasionally they passed orchards and farmhouses, lazy in the sun; once -they climbed a spur of the hills and looked down upon a great red mill, -with a plashing race of water leaping down through the dripping teeth of -a clacking wooden wheel. Several times they were passed by farmers -driving wagons or cars, but always they were heading the opposite way, -toward the Center; and the two hikers were not fortunate enough to get a -lift. As they went they chatted gaily, and all the grim hours of -Blackie’s flight and bondage seemed like the half-remembered fragments -of a nightmare. - -By ten o’clock they had reached the crossroads, beside a steepled little -schoolhouse with a yard overgrown with weeds, and halted several minutes -before turning eastward. - -“This route is longer than I thought,” observed Wally. “We’re only about -half-way back to Lenape now, and we still have the hardest part of the -journey ahead. I thought we might be back in camp by this time. You see, -to-day we hold the big regatta and water-sports. Every fellow in Camp -Shawnee will have come down from Iron Lake to compete with our swimmers -and divers, and I should be on hand to take the entries and run the -meet.” - -“It’s my fault you’re not there now,” said Blackie. “If I hadn’t run -away, everything would have been all right.” - -“If you hadn’t run away, two desperate characters wouldn’t be in jail -to-day, facing trial for murder,” pointed out the leader. “That’s the -way of the world—there’s no situation so bad that courage and brainwork -can’t mend it, and many a bad start has ended with a whirlwind finish.” - -“Then if I hadn’t told a lie in camp, I wouldn’t have been kangarooed -and would never have left, and would never have found Lew and Reno up in -the mountains. But all the same, I’m done with lying—forever.” - -“That’s a peach of a resolution to make,” agreed Wally. “Lying is either -cowardly or silly, and a Lenape camper doesn’t want to be either. And -now let’s be off; we won’t get back to camp just by talking about it.” - -He leaped to his feet and they trudged off up the mountain road at a -smart pace. Blackie’s short legs had some difficulty in matching the -mile-devouring stride of the councilor, but he did not complain, -although it had grown exceedingly hot and dusty, and it seemed as if the -succession of ridges across which they passed would never end. Each time -they would surmount a summit, Blackie told himself that it must be the -last; and each time he would find another belt of road stretching on -ahead and another ridge to cross. A little after noon they sighted a -fine-looking farm in the center of the hills, and on the shady porch sat -a red-cheeked man with drooping mustaches. He was clinking out a lively -tune on a banjo, but dropped the instrument when he saw them approach, -and called out a cheery hail. - -“Hi, Mr. Rawn! Ain’t seen you sence last year! Come on in and talk -things over—the old woman’ll lay a couple extra dishes for dinner. It -ain’t often we have the honor of company for meals, and we like to make -the most of them!” - -Wally accepted the invitation, and after he and Blackie washed the dust -from their faces, they sat on the porch and chatted with the farmer -until the smoking hot meal was served. The leader was impatient to be -off, but the pleasure of the farmer and his wife at having visitors was -so great that it was some time before he could break away. The dinner -was leisurely and abundant, and afterwards nothing would do but they -must chat with the garrulous farmer about every subject he could think -of, from hog cholera to philosophy; and he insisted on playing his -entire stock of old country tunes on his banjo before they finally -parted. - -“It’s not far now,” said Wally as they again took the road. “The last -ridge is only about a mile ahead.” - -This cheered the plodding Blackie a little, but all the same it seemed -as if that mile was the longest in the world. At last they reached the -summit, and instead of another dreary stretch ahead they were rewarded -with an exhilarating prospect of the lake below and the flat countryside -beyond in the direction of Elmville. As they paused to get their breath, -a bugle call trilled up to them from the lodge. - -“Come down and wash your dirty neck——” sang Wally, keeping time to the -trumpet-call. “He’s sounding Swim Call. That means they must be starting -the swimming meet! Hurry, Blackie—it must be at least two o’clock; -everybody will be streaking down to the dock. See that bunch of fellows -over in the baseball field? That must be the gang from Camp Shawnee.” - -The two broke into a run which took them past the spring and down to the -signal tower. Here they left the road, which bent at right angles, and -plunged down the hillside through the green woods, following the trail -beside the pipe-line. Inside of twenty minutes they were stumbling into -Tent Four, where they sat on their bunks to catch their breaths. - -They found the tent rows deserted; evidently every camper was assembled -down beside the lake. Wally recovered his breath first, and urged by the -necessity of going on duty at the dock, slipped out of his clothes and -into his swimming suit. Blackie, after five minutes’ rest, began to -undress slowly. - -“You’re not so crazy for a swim you want to hustle right down now, are -you?” asked Wally in surprise. “You better take a nap, son.” - -Blackie shook his head. “I’ve got to get in the meet, Wally! It’s my -last chance—you know I have to leave camp to-morrow; I’m only signed up -for the first two weeks. And you’ve put in a lot of time teaching me the -Australian crawl stroke, and I want to show what I can do in a real -swimming meet. Will you enter me in the distance swims and the high -dive?” - -The councilor grinned. “You sure are a glutton for punishment! I -wouldn’t think, after the last couple of days, you’d have steam enough -left for swimming contests! But I admire your gameness, and I’ll sure -put your name down.” He buttoned the strap on his bathing suit, thrust -his feet into a pair of tennis shoes, and dashed off down the path -toward the dock, from the direction of which came a confused babble of -shouting and cheering. The swimming meet was already in full swing. - -Blackie went down to the lake only a few minutes later, meeting no one -on his way. The boat dock and the shore were lined with swimmers and -spectators; about a hundred of them were strange boys and leaders, -wearing the red arrowhead of Camp Shawnee, who had hiked down from Iron -Lake to accept Lenape hospitality for the day and contest Lenape -superiority in the water. The life-saving boats were stationed further -out than usual, and Wally Rawn, with a whistle about his neck and papers -and a megaphone in his hands, was stationed on the upper deck of the -tower, directing the events, assisted by the chiefs of the two camps. - -The first person Blackie encountered as he stepped on the dock was Ken -Haviland. The aide gave him a stare of contempt. - -“Humph!” he snorted. “So you came crawling back to camp just as I knew -you would! Well, you might just as well have stayed away. What’s the -idea of the bathing suit? You needn’t think we want a fellow like you to -represent us against Shawnee.” - -“Wally has entered me in the meet,” said Blackie stoutly. “You shouldn’t -kick if he thinks it’s all right.” - -“Wally’s running the meet, and what he says goes,” admitted Ken -grudgingly, “but as far as the campers are concerned, you don’t count.” -He turned away, refusing to speak further. - -“Third event—underwater swim, junior class!” came Wally’s voice through -the megaphone. The six contestants, three from each camp, lined up at -the end of the dock and when the whistle sounded took off with flat -racing dives. The spectators cheered as the boys hit the water; and the -wearers of the arrowhead gave a happy yell as their contenders took -first and third places. Steffins of Lenape ran a close second with a -fast breast-stroke. - -“What’s the score now?” Blackie asked the boy next to him. It was Slim -Yerkes, and he favored Blackie with a stare. - -“I’d keep quiet if I were you,” he said. “Don’t forget you’re still on -the blacklist around here.” He moved off, and Blackie sat down weakly on -a rock on shore. He had hoped that by this time the edict of the -Kangaroo Court had been forgotten and that he could once more speak -freely with his comrades; but since his return not one of them had -spoken to him in friendship or asked about his adventures. - -He did not try to talk with anyone again, but sat where he was and -watched the progress of the swimming meet with dull eyes. The Shawnee -team was a good one; a red-headed, slightly-built lad named Lawrence -took honors in the junior class in diving, winning several first places -in the form and fancy events, and a husky kid whom his Shawnee -camp-mates called “Hobo” starred in the sprints. They both helped to -give Lenape the worst of it, and at the end of the junior contest the -score was Shawnee, 37; Lenape, 23. - -Blackie caught sight of Irish Gallegher among the groups on shore, but -did not want to speak to him. The senior diving events were now called, -and Blackie answered to his name among those competing in high-diving. -There were about seven contestants entered from each camp, and every -entrant was entitled to three dives. They assembled on the upper dock -platform, where a runway and springboard jutted out over the end of the -piers. In this event Lenape, thanks to Wally’s careful training, was in -its glory and took all three places. Steve Link, who was a member of the -life-saving crew, took first; Blackie, in spite of his weariness, won -second; and Terry Tompkins came third. Blackie had conquered his tired -muscles and performed a very creditable back jack-knife dive, but not -one of his team-mates shook his hand or dropped him a “Well done!” -Disgruntled, he retired to his place on the rock and watched the Lenape -team slowly shorten the difference in score as the senior events -progressed. - -The “funny dive” came last of all, and was won by Fat Crampton, the -pudgy lion-hunter. He had been entered at the last moment by the -joke-loving Sax McNulty, and his victory came as a surprise to -everybody, but most of all to Fat himself. He had timidly approached the -board, for he was not used to diving in any form; and while he stood at -the end debating with himself what to do, his foot slipped and he -toppled heels over head into the water. His arms became entangled in his -legs as he fell, and he came up with such a pop-eyed, startled look on -his puffy face that the judges immediately awarded him the blue ribbon, -although he had to be pulled out by a delegation of volunteer -life-savers. - -The diving events in the senior class were finished, and the score stood -somewhat closer, with Lenape standing 42 against Shawnee’s 48. Wally -summoned the contestants in the fifty-yard dash, in which Blackie had -not entered, wishing to save all his power for the more demanding -distance events. A rangy, sandy-haired youth with the emblem of the -Junior Red Cross on his jersey stepped forward and was hailed by a -volley of cheers from the wearers of the red. “Dunning! Show ’em how to -do it, Dunning!” He was evidently their champion, and he had a confident -smile on his face which might betoken bad news for the Lenape -supporters. - -As a matter of fact, Dunning did win the fifty-yard with ease, although -his triumph was offset by Link and Gil Shelton, who took second and -third places for the Lenape side of the score. The representatives of -the green and white also took first and second in the underwater swim, -making the tally read Shawnee, 52; Lenape, 50, with only three more -events yet to be contested. - -“Hundred-yard swim!” came Wally’s voice hoarsely through the megaphone. -“Shawnee team—Dunning, Coombes, Lipsky; Lenape team—Haviland, Link, -Thorne!” - -Blackie rose and walked stiffly to the end of the dock; he was more -tired than he had thought, for no boy can hike with a heavy pack through -mountain roads for seven hours and still hope to be fresh and springy in -a gruelling distance swim the same afternoon. He lined up with the six -contenders, between the confident Dunning and Ken Haviland. The latter -twisted his mouth when he saw Blackie beside him. - -“Still trying, huh? Well, let me tell you, Thorne, I’d rather lose the -meet than have a fellow like you help to win it—and every fellow in -Lenape thinks the same!” - -Blackie said nothing, but a red tide of resentment climbed to his brain. -So that was what they thought of him! But at least they couldn’t say he -was a quitter; he would do his best in spite of what any of them said! -He clamped his jaw, and stared out over the sparkling waters of the -lake, over the course that had been marked out by two of the life-boats, -trying to recall everything that Wally had taught him about the -crawl-stroke—trudgeon kick, powerful overhand pull with the arms, -measured breathing once in four strokes. - -“Ready—set——” - -The shrill purl of the starter’s whistle sounded, and six lithe bodies -cleaved the water. Blackie, full of anger and determination, put every -ounce of his waning strength into his strokes, fighting to keep his head -and time his muscles scientifically. He did not dare look around to see -how the other contestants were coming, although he was aware of a sandy -head driving through the water a little to his left and half a length -ahead. The course seemed short, but a stiff hundred-yard swim will try -the power of even a swimmer in the best of training. He headed for the -line stretched between the two boats, his arms moving over his head in a -steady rhythm that kept time with the beat of his legs, his face buried -in cool bubbling water. He’d show them! Summoning up his last straining -ounce of power, he spurted to win ahead of the swimmer to his left, and -passed him just as the shadow of the life-saving boat fell upon their -faces. - -“Thorne wins!” came the voice of one of the judges from the boat. -“Dunning second, Coombes third!” - -There was an uneasy silence among the Lenape supporters, but after half -a minute there rose a belated cheer from the wearers of the red -arrowhead, who were disappointed that their favorite had not won, but -who consoled themselves with the thought that Shawnee was still in the -lead. - -Blackie took his time paddling back to the dock. He did not expect -congratulations for his victory; but he was now beyond the stage of -caring. All he had wanted to do was to show Ken Haviland that he was -game; and the taunts of the aide had given Blackie just that extra ounce -of vitality that had enabled him to spurt ahead of Dunning. He climbed -unassisted to the dock, and stood watching the next event, breathing -deeply to get his wind in preparation for the concluding event of the -meet, the two-hundred-yard swim that was the most demanding of all -contests upon the grit and capabilities of the racer. - -Some thirty boys were lined up for the next contest, a free-for-all -marathon over a triangular course that led around two boats stationed -some yards apart in front of the dock; and at the summons of the whistle -there ensued a scrambling battle-royal for places in the water. Most of -the bunch dropped out before the first boat was reached, but among the -remaining swimmers there was a desperate contest to see who would touch -the wharf first. The Lenape cohorts broke into mad cheers when they -found that their entrants in this helter-skelter marathon had placed -first and third, and the yells of all the spectators grew and swelled -out over the water when it was found that the tallies for the last two -events had brought the score to a dead tie, with 57 points for each -camp. - -The excitement was at fever heat as the contenders lined up for the -final event of the afternoon’s sport, the two-hundred-yard swim. The -entries were almost the same as for the shorter distance, except that -Link had been replaced by Soapy Mullins. Dunning, somewhat crestfallen, -eyed Blackie with a vengeful air, as if resolved to wipe out the memory -of his previous defeat. Coombes, who had placed third in the -hundred-yard event, looked pale and tired. Blackie stole a look at Ken -Haviland, who was again ranged at his side, but the aide paid no -attention. Blackie saw him feeling the right side of his abdomen -tenderly, and thought he caught Ken making a slight grimace of pain; but -the signal for ready came at that moment, and Ken straightened his body -and gritted his teeth as the starter put his whistle to his lips. - -Brr-r-r-r! The six racers took the water and the gruelling contest -began, with two hundred pairs of eyes fastened upon their shining -muscles, sleek heads, and straining bodies. The last race—the race upon -which depended the camp championship of the season, the victory of the -green and white or the red arrowhead! No wonder the air was filled with -cheers and shouts of encouragement! Once or twice Blackie caught the -sound of his own name rising from that bedlam of excited watchers. He -smiled to himself, filled with a great elation. He had whipped Dunning -before, and knew he could do it again. Turning his head with a jerk, he -saw that Coombes was already out of the race, had dropped behind, too -exhausted to continue. Beside Blackie, the speedy Dunning whipped -through the water, followed by Ken Haviland and Soapy Mullins and -closely pursued by Lipsky. It was to be a close race, in spite of the -distance. - -Onward Blackie Thorne churned his way, tossing diamond-like drops from -his hair as he surged through the water. Ahead he could see the dipping -life-boats that marked the end of the journey. Tie score—if he nosed -Dunning out for first place, it was almost a sure thing that one of the -other Lenape contenders would finish ahead of the slow-going Lipsky, and -end the meet with a slender lead of two points that would, however, give -Lenape the day. - -Ken Haviland was shooting ahead, and was now close on the flailing legs -of Dunning. Blackie, with his eyes on the goal, was slowly but surely -increasing his half-length lead over the Shawnee favorite, when he heard -a low cry that made him turn his head and halt his even stroke. - -Ken was in trouble. His pallid face was twisting with pain, and his arms -floated helplessly at his side. “Blackie!” he gasped. “Cramps! I’m -done——” - -Dunning forged ahead, either not hearing of Haviland’s plight or else, -still smarting from his defeat, determined that nothing should interfere -to lose him this last and decisive race. Blackie held his stroke, and -Dunning caught up with him in an instant. - -For only a split second did Blackie hesitate. Two voices seemed to be -shouting in his ears at the same time, arguing against each other. - -“Ken is out of it, but there’s still a good chance that Mullins will -beat Lipsky for third. Go ahead and win!” counselled the first. - -“But Ken has cramps—he’ll drown if you don’t help him!” contended the -other voice. - -“He hates you—don’t throw away your big chance to win just on his -account! He said himself he’d rather lose the meet than have you win!” - -“No, he’s sick! He needs you!” - -A clock was ticking somewhere in his brain, ticking off the fractions of -seconds in which he must make up his mind what to do. Already Dunning -was beyond him, plowing determinedly for the goal. Blackie made his -decision. In a few speedy strokes he was by Ken’s side. - -“I’ll hold you up—don’t struggle!” he shouted in the aide’s ear, and put -forth a supporting arm. Ken’s face was blanched and torn with pain, and -he floundered about helplessly, the muscles of his limbs knotted in -paralyzing lumps, his abdomen gripped with shooting pangs. Blackie knew -that he must be very sick indeed. - -Soapy Mullins passed them some yards to their right, followed by Lipsky -trailing unsteadily in his wake. - -“Take it easy!” said Blackie. “Don’t get scared! It’ll pass off soon.” - -Of a sudden Ken’s muscles relaxed, and he found he could move his arms -and support himself somewhat. “What happened?” he gasped. “Did they stop -the race?” - -A voice through a megaphone from the boats answered his question. -“Dunning wins! Mullins, second; Lipsky, third. Shawnee wins the -meet—score, 61 to 59!” - -From the shore came the wild hurrahs of the victors, and a sportsmanlike -cheer from the Lenape campers for those who had vanquished them. In the -excitement of the race, few of the watchers had noticed that Blackie had -gone to the aid of Ken, and most of them had assumed that the two had -merely dropped out, overcome by the cruel demands of the contest. - -Ken’s face was a blank. “But—but that’s not fair! We ought to run the -race over again—you would have won easy if you hadn’t come to help me, -Blackie!” - -Blackie shook his head. “The meet’s over. No use kicking up a fuss and -having the Shawnee bunch think we’re a gang of poor sports who start -crabbing when they lose. It’s our hard luck, and we might as well take -our medicine. If you feel better now, come on and I’ll tow you over to -the boat.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - THE END—AND THE BEGINNING - - -The campers from Iron Lake departed northwards about five o’clock in -holiday mood, singing their camp song as they hiked, more than contented -to have won the close-fought victory in the water. Some of the Lenape -tribe accompanied them a mile or two on the road, and were forced to -swallow a lot of good-natured chaffing about their defeat, which they -felt keenly. - -Blackie did not go with them. He had helped Ken Haviland ashore, and -seen him carried off toward the hospital tent and the ministrations of -Dr. Cannon; and then he returned to Tent Four and dressed in a clean -outfit. He was agreeably tired, but the swim had braced him immensely, -and he was comfortable in body for the first time since he had run away. -His mind was far from easy, however, as he answered the bugle’s summons -and stood Retreat ceremony with the tent groups. He was still in -coventry; not a boy spoke to him, and many were the black looks cast in -his direction. - -It was the same at supper. Wally presided over a quiet table that night. -Gallegher sat gloomily next to the vacant chair that belonged to Ken -Haviland. Fat Crampton, with his usual good humor, was attacking his -food with gusto, rather pleased with himself for winning a first place -in the diving; Guppy and Lefkowitz chattered together now and then; but -Slater could not forget how easily Lenape might have held the -championship had things been a little different. - -Once Guppy turned to Slater and said, “Gee, that fellow Dunning wasn’t -any slouch of a swimmer, was he?” - -“He was pretty good, all right—but he would have been beaten in that -last race if a certain guy—I won’t mention any names—wasn’t yellow. It -would have won us the meet, too.” Slater looked meaningly at Blackie, -who flushed and gazed down at his plate, biting his lip to keep back a -bitter retort. - -After the dessert, Wally leaned over to Blackie. “The Chief wants to see -you in his office, son,” he said, “right after supper. He’s got a friend -of yours in there with him now.” - -“All right, Wally.” Blackie knew who that friend of his was; a saddled -horse was tethered outside that could belong to no one but Sheriff -Manders. When the dismissal signal was given, he went over to the office -door with a pounding heart, and entered at the Chief’s cheery -invitation. - -The Chief nodded as he saw Blackie. “Come in, Thorne. You’ve met Sheriff -Manders, I hear. He’s ridden over to get your affadavit against the two -men who attacked Rattlesnake Joe. Just tell him slowly everything that -happened, and don’t keep anything back.” - -The sheriff had paper and pen before him, and with a gentle kindliness -asked Blackie many questions, writing down the boy’s answers in a round, -careless hand. The Chief said no word, but listened with increasing -attention as the tale of Blackie’s adventures was unfolded. When the -officer pronounced himself satisfied, he looked over at the Chief with a -quizzical air. - -“Kind of a lot of trouble for a kid his size to get into, eh? Well, -you’ve helped the state to prosecute a pair of brutal criminals, young -Thorne, and I think I may venture to say that——” - -The Chief cut in on his speech. “We won’t talk about that now, Mr. -Manders, if you don’t mind.” - -“Just as you say. Well, I’ll be going now. Thank you both. ’Night!” He -stamped out of the office. - -Blackie made no move to leave, but cleared his throat huskily. He had -the most distasteful task in the world before him, the job of admitting -that he was a coward who had sought to shield himself from punishment -behind a lie. - -“Chief, I—I want to tell you something.” - -“Go ahead, Blackie.” The Chief’s face betrayed nothing of what he might -be thinking. “They say that confession is good for the soul.” - -“I lied to you the other night. I was with Gallegher when he broke the -camp rule against smoking, and I smoked too. I’m sorry I lied, and I’m -willing to take my punishment.” - -“You know what that means?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“All right. You can go now.” - -The Chief nodded that the affair was ended for the present, and Blackie -left the little office. He had done it. A great load was lifted from his -heart; he had confessed like a man, and things were understood between -the Chief and himself. However painful might be the outcome, at least he -had cleared away the black stain on his conscience. - -A busy crew of stage-hands was arranging the lodge in the semblance of a -theater, for that night was to be given the musical show, “Coo-Coo,” in -which Sax McNulty and an imposing troupe of camp talent were to perform -for the amusement of the campers, a few visitors from the city, and some -neighboring farmers. As Blackie passed out to the porch, it was just -growing dusk. From the lake he could hear laughter and shouts of gaiety; -in spite of the afternoon’s defeat it was to be a night of merriment. -Chinese lanterns gleamed from the dock, which was crowded with campers -dressed in masquerade regalia; boat-loads of boys in costumes ranging -from African wild-man to pirate were rowing about amidst song and -fun-making, watching a canoe-tilting contest, at the end of which one -crew or another would be pushed over with a long bamboo pole and -precipitated into the water. Blackie turned away and headed for the -hospital tent. There was little happiness in his heart, and he did not -wish to be reminded of the gaiety of others. - -Ken Haviland was sitting up in bed when he arrived, and invited him in -with a voice that showed he had quite recovered from the mishap of the -swimming race. “Sit down here on the bed, Blackie,” he said. “The Doc -filled me up with hot water and ginger, and I’m as well as ever, only he -won’t let me get up. It’s too bad, because I feel fine, and don’t want -to miss the big show.” - -“That’s great, Ken.” - -“What’s the matter? You look about as happy as a corpse.” - -“Aw, the guys in the tent are still jumping on me because I didn’t win -the last race. Slater called me yellow at supper, and all the others -thought I was, too.” - -“Did they? Well, soon as I get out of here, I’ll fix that! Wait till -they hear what really happened; they’ll be sorry they didn’t have better -sense. By the way, I’m passing around the word that the Kangaroo Court -decision is all off, and we’ve forgotten all about it. I’m sorry for -what I’ve been thinking of you all along.” - -“I deserved it, Ken. I’ve been just a fresh kid ever since I hit camp—I -see it all now. I—I guess the gang will be glad to see me go back to the -city to-morrow.” - -Ken leaned forward, and put his hand on Blackie’s shoulder. “Don’t you -think it! You’ve only been here two weeks, but you’ve done a lot for -Lenape. I don’t know what the Chief thinks, but as soon as Doc Cannon -lets me out of here, the bunch is going to find out what kind of a hero -you really are!” - -“The Chief knows,” said Blackie dully. “He’s going to square up with me -in the morning.” - -Blackie left the tent thinking of what the morning would be sure to -bring, and in a dejected mood went down to Tent Four. It was dark and -deserted; the whole camp was now assembled in the lodge, from which came -down to him the lively strains of music from the camp orchestra, the -overture of the show. The happiness of the campers only emphasized his -pangs of loneliness, and he slowly donned pajamas and climbed into his -bunk. The strain of the day soon proved too much for him, and lulled by -the music, he drifted off to sleep, from which he did not waken when his -tent-mates tumbled into their bunks when Call to Quarters sounded at -eleven o’clock. - -Blackie woke in the misty dawn the next morning, and softly, so as not -to wake his slumbering tent-mates, dressed in his city clothes and began -packing his blankets and stuffing his camping-kit into his sea-bag. -To-day he would leave Lenape, leave the lake and the hills and go back -to the hot city. Well, that was the only thing to do. He was in bad with -the boys and the Chief, he told himself; he had failed in almost -everything he had attempted to do. After two weeks of the Lenape life, -he was not any better a camper than when he first landed in Tent Four. -True, he had won his honor emblem, but that was sure to be stripped from -him. He wore it on his jersey still, buttoned under his coat; but he -knew that he had no better right to wear it than Gallegher had, as -everyone would soon discover. - -Reveille blew before he had finished his packing, and he continued -making ready for departure while the pajama crew went down for Indian -dip. He noticed that about a dozen other boys, who were also leaving at -the end of the first section, were also getting into their unaccustomed -travelling clothes and stowing their camp things into suitcases and -bags. By the time Assembly sounded, Blackie was ready to leave for the -station at a moment’s notice. - -He lined up with his comrades before the flagpole. All during the -ceremony of flag salute and while the buglers were trumpeting Call to -Colors, his nervousness increased. He dreaded what was coming; it was -worse than a trip to the dentist. The Chief was sure to speak this -morning. In a few moments he would be disgraced before all the campers. -He looked toward the end of the line hastily. Little Pete Lister was -standing there with his drum strapped about his neck. - -“Attention!” came the Chief’s command. He stood with dignified sternness -before them, and the files straightened. - -“Blackie Thorne, five paces forward!” - -There was a stir among the campers as Blackie marched forward with chin -up, arms at his side, and a set face. They, too, guessed what was coming -now. - -“I wish I hadn’t said he was yellow yesterday,” whispered Slater behind -his hand. “That kid’s got nerve!” - -“He sure has!” responded Gallegher. “I know what he feels like now, and -believe me, it’s no joke! But it was all my fault—I really dragged him -into it.” - -“Silence in the ranks! Blackie Thorne, you have admitted to me that you -have been guilty of conduct unbecoming to a Lenape camper, and have -signified your willingness to abide by whatever punishment is inflicted. -Is that right?” - -Blackie flushed, but looked his Chief straight in the eye. “Yes, sir.” - -“You will here, in the sight of all your comrades, be stripped of the -honor emblem which has been made unworthy by your act.” - -Blackie braced himself, waiting; the Chief stepped forward with the -blade of a knife gleaming in his hand. Now it was coming! He felt the -Chief pulling away his coat and cutting the stitches of the green and -white badge. The clattering tattoo from Lister’s drum was in his ears. -The Chief stepped backward, putting away the knife. Now it was all over. -Blackie made a move to return to his place in line. - -“Stay where you are, Thorne!” - -The campers started with surprise; they had not anticipated this. -Blackie waited, expecting some further reprimand. - -“I still have another duty to do,” announced the Chief evenly. “But -first I want to tell a story which some of you may have read in a book -by Victor Hugo, a book called ‘Ninety-Three.’ It tells there of an -incident which happened on board a French warship. Through the -carelessness of the chief gunner, one of the huge cannons on the deck -broke away from its chains, and pitched about by the rough sea, rolled -from one end of the ship to the other like a monstrous metal -battering-ram on wheels, killing many sailors who could not get out of -its way, smashing the other cannons that were to defend the ship from -the enemy, and battering the timbers until the vessel was in danger of -sinking. It seemed impossible for the brutal rushes of the gun to be -checked; but one man, armed only with a handspike and a rope, jumped -down on the deck and struggled to halt its mad career. It was the chief -gunner, the man who was to blame for the deadly danger to the ship and -her crew; and after a superhuman battle in which he nearly lost his -life, he succeeded in overturning the cannon and lashing it so that it -could do no further harm.” - -The Chief paused a moment. Blackie was listening in a daze, wondering -what this tale could have to do with him. - -“When all was safe again,” continued the Chief, “the gunner was brought -to be judged by the general who commanded the ship. The general first -pinned upon the gunner’s jacket the cross of St. Louis, the medal for -military merit, as an award for his bravery in capturing the cannon. He -then ordered the man to be shot because his negligence had endangered -the ship. The gunner was executed with the cross of honor on his breast, -rewarded for his courage and punished for failing in his duty.” - -Again the Chief paused; the boys looked at each other wonderingly. - -“Sooner or later all of us get our just rewards for what we make of -ourselves, as that wise general knew. Blackie Thorne broke a camp rule, -told a lie to escape punishment, and ran away from camp rather than face -the consequences of his act. But when you hear what other deeds he has -done, you may agree that he has wiped out some of the counts against -him. Yesterday he threw away the glory of winning the swimming meet for -his camp in order to go to the assistance of a stricken tent-mate, a boy -whom he disliked; and afterwards he did not mention anything about his -reason for dropping out of the race, fearing to be a poor sportsman. The -winning of even a contest against Shawnee is, in my opinion, nothing to -be compared with the display of bravery shown by Blackie in the water -yesterday afternoon.” - -A cheer rose from the campers, involuntarily bursting forth from their -lips. Excitement ran high. Blackie listened, abashed by this sudden turn -of favor. - -“Blackie was again put to the test when he encountered a pair of -dangerous criminals who were wanted by the law. With courage and -discernment, he captured those men at great risk to himself. Now, -although he did not know about it, there was a reward offered for the -person who led to the arrest of these malefactors, and last night the -sheriff brought over to me a check for three thousand dollars, which I -am now presenting to Blackie Thorne.” - -The Chief was unable to speak further; his words were drowned in a -torrent of cheers that made the mountains echo. Somehow the command to -march was given, and the hungry horde stamped off to breakfast, still -shouting Blackie’s name to the skies. - -Blackie stood bewildered, clutching the check in his hand. Three -thousand dollars! Wally, who had left the line, put his arm around the -boy’s shoulder and looked down into his face. - -“How do you like being rich, Blackie?” he laughed. “Does it feel funny -at first?” - -“It sure does!” exclaimed Blackie. “Say, when I think how happy my -mother will be when I tell her I can buy lots of things we couldn’t have -before, I——” - -“Don’t trouble to explain. By the way, when the Chief told me about this -check last night, I sent a telegram off to your mother asking her if you -could stay for the rest of the season if she didn’t have to pay any more -money. I didn’t break the news about your reward to her—you can do that -yourself—but just a little while ago I got a wire from her, and she -agrees that you can stay at Lenape clear up to September! Six weeks more -of camp for you, Blackie—how does that sound?” - -“Great!” There was a lump in the boy’s throat as he looked out over the -campus he had come to love. Six weeks more of free, out-door comradeship -with Wally and the Chief and the whole gang of good fellows! “Say, -Wally, remember how you told me one day that there was a treasure around -here?” He looked down at the check in his hand. “I didn’t believe you -then, but I do now.” - -“Blackie,” his councilor assured him solemnly, “you found that treasure -right in your own heart—the rich treasure of true Lenape spirit!” - - - THE END - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the - HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape, by Carl Saxon - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKIE THORNE AT CAMP LENAPE *** - -***** This file should be named 51539-0.txt or 51539-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/5/3/51539/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -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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} - .toc dt.scc { text-align:center; clear:both; font-variant:small-caps; } - .toc dt span.lj { text-align:left; display:block; float:left; } - .toc dt.jr { font-style:normal; } - .toc dt a span.cn, .toc dt span.cn, dt span.cn { width:3.5em; text-align:right; margin-right:.7em; float:left; } - dt .large {font-weight:bold; } - div.bcat dl dd { margin-left:4em; max-width:21em; } - div.bcat dl dt { text-indent:-2em; margin-left:2em; } - -.clear { clear:both; } -.htab { margin-left:8em; } - /* MAXWIDTH FOR JUVENILE BOOKS */ - p, blockquote, li, dd, dt, div.bcat, pre { text-align:justify; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - p, li, dd, dt, div.bcat, pre.internal dl { max-width:25em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - p.csmaller { max-width:38em; } - p.csmallest { max-width:40em; } - blockquote { max-width:23em; } - - - div.verse { max-width:25em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - div.bq { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:23em; } -/* book advertisements */ - p.bkad {font-size:125%; font-weight:bold; margin-top:2em; max-width:20em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - p.bkpr {font-size:90%; } - p.bkrv { } - dl.blist dt { margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } - dl.blist, dl.biblio { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } - - dl.int { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } - dl.int dt {margin-left:0em; } - dl.int dd {margin-left:2em; } -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape, by Carl Saxon - -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: Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape - -Author: Carl Saxon - -Release Date: March 23, 2016 [EBook #51539] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKIE THORNE AT CAMP LENAPE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - -<div class="img"> -<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape" width="500" height="745" /> -</div> -<div class="box"> -<h1>BLACKIE THORNE -<br />AT CAMP LENAPE</h1> -<p class="tbcenter">CARL SAXON</p> -<p class="csmaller"><i>Author of -<br />“The Mystery at Camp Lenape”</i></p> -<div class="img"> -<img src="images/p1.jpg" alt="Logo" width="300" height="197" /> -</div> -<p class="tbcenter">BOOKS, INC. -<br /><span class="small">NEW YORK</span> <span class="hst"><span class="small">BOSTON</span></span></p> -<p class="csmaller">COPYRIGHT 1940, 1931 BY BOOKS, INC. -<br />MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> -</div> -<p class="tbcenter"><i>For -<br />BILL SIMMONS -<br />companion of tent and trail</i></p> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> -<dl class="toc"> -<dt><span class="cn">I. </span><a href="#c1">Tent Four</a> 7</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">II. </span><a href="#c2">The Councilor</a> 17</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">III. </span><a href="#c3">After Taps</a> 30</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">IV. </span><a href="#c4">A Hard Case</a> 39</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">V. </span><a href="#c5">Treasure</a> 53</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">VI. </span><a href="#c6">The Hermit’s House</a> 59</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">VII. </span><a href="#c7">Initiation</a> 69</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">VIII. </span><a href="#c8">The Snipe Hunt</a> 81</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">IX. </span><a href="#c9">A Rainy Day</a> 97</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">X. </span><a href="#c10">The Lie</a> 111</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XI. </span><a href="#c11">Kangaroo Court</a> 123</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XII. </span><a href="#c12">The Hut on Black Pond</a> 135</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XIII. </span><a href="#c13">Robbery by Night</a> 150</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XIV. </span><a href="#c14">The Spring-House</a> 166</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XV. </span><a href="#c15">The Last Race</a> 179</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">XVI. </span><a href="#c16">The End—and the Beginning</a> 198</dt> -</dl> -<div class="pb" id="Page_7">7</div> -<h1 title="">BLACKIE THORNE AT -<br />CAMP LENAPE</h1> -<h2 id="c1">CHAPTER I -<br /><span class="small">TENT FOUR</span></h2> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="t0">“We’ve been working on the ra-a-ailroad</p> -<p class="t2">All the livelong day——”</p> -</div> -<p>Two enormous hay-wains, full and running -over with a tumbling mass of boys, turned -a bend in the narrow country road.</p> -<p>Blackie Thorne was the foremost boy on the -first wagon. He clambered up on the narrow seat -with so much eagerness to view the camp and the -lake that he almost knocked over the stolid farmer -who was driving the team. His first view of -camp!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_8">8</div> -<p>There it lay on the wooded slope above the -shining lake and the boat dock, a large white -lodge with a flag floating lazily above it, and two -rows of canvas tents lost among trees to the right -but showing clearly against the gray mountains -beyond, with their heavy covering of tall pines -sticking up like spikes along the skyline. Camp -Lenape, where the wonderful things his friends -told about had happened. Why, anything might -happen in such a marvelous place as the camp -which grew nearer every minute as the slow -horses plodded their way along the dusty road!</p> -<p>Blackie squirmed with excitement and jerked -his arm so that it hit the head of the driving -farmer and knocked his wide straw hat down over -his eyes.</p> -<p>“Here now, sonny!” spluttered the man, -grabbing at his hat and almost falling off the -board which served as a seat. “If you’re a-goin’ -to get so het up about seein’ this camp-ground -of yourn, you better get out and walk!”</p> -<p>“A good idea!” exclaimed a fellow standing -just behind Blackie, holding himself up in the -jolting wagon by a hand on Blackie’s shoulder. -He was Gil Shelton, patrol-leader in Blackie’s -troop back in the city, and a “three-striper” who -wore on his camp sweater three green chevrons to -show that he had been at Lenape for as many -seasons. “What do you say, Blackie? If we -hop off now, we can follow the trail through the -woods and beat the rest into camp.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div> -<p>The trail led around the end of the lake, down -through a meadow dotted with daisies and buttercups, -and on again into the deepening shadow -of the pines and birches.</p> -<p>They panted as they ran up a short hill, and -came out in a little cleared space among the -scrub-pines.</p> -<p>“Wait a minute, can’t you?” gasped Blackie. -“What’s the use of killing ourselves?”</p> -<p>Gil snorted. “Does that little run make you -tired? Wait until you’ve been here at camp a -week, and a trot like this will seem so slow you’ll -think you’re going backwards.” Nevertheless he -stopped and threw himself on the soft ground, -and Blackie gratefully followed his example.</p> -<p>“How far are we from camp now?”</p> -<p>“Oh, about a quarter of a mile, I guess. Don’t -worry, little one, you’ll get there before dark.” -He pointed his grass-stem, toward the hills, where -the sun was dropping, a ball of red fire in the -west. “The Indian council ring is over that -way. We’ll have a pow-wow there to-morrow -night, I guess.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_10">10</div> -<p>Blackie’s eyes followed in the indicated direction, -but his attention was immediately claimed -by a fan-shaped formation of gray rocks on the -side of the western mountains. His dark eyebrows -raised, and he whistled. “Hey, Gil, -what’s that?”</p> -<p>“What’s what?”</p> -<p>“That pile of rocks there—are they rocks?”</p> -<p>“That’s a terminal moraine. Now, ask me -another.”</p> -<p>“A what?”</p> -<p>“Terminal moraine, dummy.”</p> -<p>“Well, who put it there?”</p> -<p>“Say,” exclaimed Gil with disgust, “if you -listened to the scoutmaster’s talks instead of skylarking -around at troop meetings and stealing -Fat Crampton’s hat, you’d learn not to be so -ignorant. A terminal moraine is a pile of rocks -brought down by a glacier in the days when all -the part of the world north of here was covered -with ice. You’ve heard of the Glacial Age, -haven’t you? Well, when the ice moved down -from the North Pole it pushed a lot of rocks -ahead of it, right over the ground. Now, when -old Mr. Glacier got this far, he heard the five o’clock -whistle blow or something, so he dropped -that pile of rocks he was carrying, and started to -melt. When we hike up there, you can see markings -on the rocks where they got scratched being -pulled along over the ground.” Gil finished his -lecture by throwing away his chewed grass-stem -and carefully pulling another.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_11">11</div> -<p>Blackie rose and held up his hand to shade his -squinting eyes while he peered at the slide of -boulders which, according to Gil’s story, had been -brought there in such a dramatic manner.</p> -<p>“All right, I believe you,” he said; but he continued -to stare.</p> -<p>Half-hidden among the pines and mountain -maples, clinging to the side of the mountain at -the end of a thin line of road that ran above, -Blackie saw the faded clapboards and weathered -roof of a house. There was not a sign of life -about it. The sinking sun, nearing its last stand -above the Lenape ridge, was reflected in all its -bloodiness in two upstairs windows of that dark -and ominous dwelling; the afterglow swirled and -glinted with the color of molten copper. A little -breeze blew up from the lake, a breeze not too -warm for late June; and Blackie shivered slightly -as it struck his back. He didn’t know why, but -the sight of that dead, hidden house scared him—just -a little. He thought it looked like a skull, -lost among the trees. There must be some mystery -about a house like that.</p> -<p>“Gil!”</p> -<p>“Well, what is it now, youngster?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div> -<p>“Does anybody live in that old house up -there?”</p> -<p>“Sure. That’s where old Rattlesnake Joe -lives. Some people around here call him the -hermit. You can go up and see him some time. -Now, have you got your breath back? If we -don’t get going pretty soon, the gang will be in -ahead of us, and we’ll be out of luck for getting -a good bunk.”</p> -<p>The two boys trotted on along the trail at a -fast pace. Blackie would have liked to ask some -more questions about the hermit who lived alone -in the woods in that mysterious house, but he was -afraid that Gil would taunt him about being a -greenhorn, so he saved his breath for running. -The trail soon broke surprisingly into the -campus, and they were among white tents where -several of their comrades, already arrived in -camp by the same short-cut around the lake, were -busily spreading out their blankets on the two-decked -canvas bunks that lined the tent walls.</p> -<p>“The tent assignments must be already -posted,” muttered Gil. “Hurry up to the -lodge!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_13">13</div> -<p>Blackie ran with him through the little tent-village, -but when he reached the flagpole before -the spreading lodge he halted as the lake and the -far shore spread out before his view.</p> -<p>“Jee-miny!” he whistled. He could see the -roof of the boat dock below, around which were -moored about a dozen broad-beamed steel rowboats.</p> -<p>Gil Shelton came tearing by, laden with blanket -and duffle that he had collected from the pile -of baggage on the lodge porch.</p> -<p>“Say, Blackie,” he called, “you better get on -the job! You’re assigned to Tent Four, down -there. Grab your stuff and hurry down. The -first one in the tent gets his choice of bunks.”</p> -<p>Several boys, the advance guard of the hay-wagons, -came streaming down to the campus -from the road behind the lodge. Blackie climbed -the steps to the lodge porch and in the welter of -luggage there discovered a familiar-looking sea-bag -with his initials painted on it in black. Seizing -this dunnage, he ran stumbling to Tent Four, -his new home in the woods.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_14">14</div> -<p>Tent Four lay at the end of the row of tents -topmost on the hilly campus. Before it lay a -cleared space dotted by huckleberry bushes and a -few shading pines. The tent was floored and -painted a battleship gray, and eight canvas bunks -lined the walls, running the length of the tent -and making two tiers. A tall boy was already -swiftly and smoothly making up a bed in one of -the lower bunks. He nodded to Blackie but did -not pause in his work.</p> -<p>Gil Shelton shouted across from Tent Three, -next door. His bunk was already made. With -the deftness of an experienced camper, he was -setting each thing in its correct place—shoes and -hats in a line under the bed, coats and sweaters -on the rope swung between the two tent-poles, -pajamas under his pillow, and the remainder of -his kit in one of the pine-wood lockers that ran -down the middle of the tent.</p> -<p>“The bottom bunks are the best, Blackie! If -you pick a top one, the fellow under you gets you -up in the morning by the airplane method!”</p> -<p>Blackie began unpacking his duffle, slowly and -clumsily. He laid out his blankets on a lower -bunk as advised, and tried two or three times to -make his result somewhat resemble Gil’s bed; but -when he had finished, it still looked bumpy and -not too soft. Then he sat on his sea-bag and -looked about him helplessly.</p> -<p>The tall fellow, who had not spoken until now, -looked up and smiled shyly.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_15">15</div> -<p>“Stuck? Well, follow what I do, and you’ll -soon get cleared up. This the first time you’ve -been to camp?”</p> -<p>It was the first time Blackie had ever been -away from home, but he hated to admit it.</p> -<p>“Yeah. How do they put their stuff at <i>this</i> -camp?” He said it as if he had visited all the -other camps in the world before he had happened -to drop in on this insignificant little one.</p> -<p>Two other boys now rushed down, and made -haste to stake out their claims to lower bunks.</p> -<p>“Can’t have that one,” warned the tall, quiet -boy to one of them who had put his bag on the -lower bunk nearest the lodge. “That belongs to -the councilor. And a councilor needs a lower -bunk because he may have to turn out quick in -the middle of the night if he’s needed.”</p> -<p>“Who is the councilor?” asked the other.</p> -<p>“Mr. Rawn—Wally. He’s the fellow that has -charge of the swimming. Well, I’m going up to -the lodge. He promised to let me be the waiter -for the first two days, because I know all about -it.” He departed in the direction of the lodge.</p> -<p>Blackie sat on his bunk and looked around. -Everyone was busily engaged in making up the -first night’s bed, and shouts and singing came -from all quarters as the busy campers shook -down in their new homes. From the lodge porch -came the brazen blare of First Call sounded by -the camp bugler.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div> -<p>A pine bough brushed against the tent, laden -with cones. It occurred to Blackie that it would -be a good idea to take a few and stick them in -between someone’s blankets. He lifted off a few -that looked to be the most prickly and crossing -the tent, pulled down the blankets of the tall lad -who had gone to the lodge. The two other boys -had now been joined by a third; but none of them -were watching, for they were hurriedly preparing -for supper, and evidently thought the bunk -was his own.</p> -<p>Blackie shoved the pine-cones down between -the blankets, and looked around to see if anyone -had watched him. Someone had. A shadow fell -across the front of the tent, a tall and muscular -figure stood over him, and a deep voice demanded, -“Do you always sleep with pine-cones -in your bed?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_17">17</div> -<h2 id="c2">CHAPTER II -<br /><span class="small">THE COUNCILOR</span></h2> -<p>Blackie hesitated.</p> -<p>“Yes, sir, I always do that when I’m -camping. It makes it seem more as if I was -really in the woods,” he said.</p> -<p>The tall man—he must have been six feet two, -and stockily built—looked down at Blackie and -frowned. He was big enough to have picked up -the boy and used him for a baseball.</p> -<p>“I wouldn’t lie if I were you,” he drawled. -“It’s a bad habit for a young lad to acquire. -That bunk belongs to Ken Haviland, my aide. -By the time he’s ready to crawl in to-night, he’ll -be plenty tired from a long day on the job. Don’t -you think he’s entitled to a good sleep?”</p> -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> -<p>“Well, since we are to be tent-mates, we ought -to get acquainted.” He grinned broadly, and -held out his hand. “I’m Wally Rawn. What’s -your name?”</p> -<p>“Blackie. Blackie Thorne.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_18">18</div> -<p>The man grinned as he took the boy’s hand in -a firm grip and surveyed the bright black eyes, -the shining black hair.</p> -<p>“Not a bad name, at that. What’s your -mother call you?”</p> -<p>“She calls me Blackie, too. My regular name -is Ambrose.”</p> -<p>“I won’t tell a soul. Blackie you are and -Blackie you shall be. Now, Blackie, I’m going -to offer you a chance to show what sort of a spirit -you have for helping to make the Tent Four boys -known all over camp. I have, after much -thought, decided to paint our tent-poles with -pink and green stripes. That ought to start the -rest of camp thinking about us. Now, please run -up to the kitchen and ask the chef to send you -down here with a bucket of striped paint—pink -and green.”</p> -<p>Blackie was off like a flash, but his leader -called him back.</p> -<p>“While you’re up there, Blackie, you can also -ask him to lend you a bunk-stretcher. I find that -my feet stick out over the edge of my berth, and -I don’t want to wake up in the morning and find -the birds roosting on my toes. A left-handed -bunk-stretcher—my bunk is on the left-hand -side.”</p> -<p>“Yes, Mr. Rawn.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_19">19</div> -<p>“Call me Wally. Now, off with you!”</p> -<p>Blackie bounded up the short hill to the side -door of the kitchen. Through the screen came -the tantalizing fragrance of something good; supper -was on the way, evidently, and Ellick, that -good-hearted king of the kitchen, was at his busiest. -Blackie pushed open the door and ran in -with an important look on his dark face. He was -greeted by Leggy, a skinny, coffee-colored individual -whose thin shanks, although they seemed -to have no end, did no more than reach the -ground. He waved a long-handled spoon, and -made a swing with it at Blackie’s head.</p> -<p>“Outside, white boy!” he cried. “Kitchen -ain’t no place for little boys at de supper-call.”</p> -<p>“I got a message for the chef—very important. -Let me in!”</p> -<p>“Hol’ on dere!” came Ellick’s voice from the -far corner of the room. “You ain’t de boy what -is lookin’ for de striped paint, is you?”</p> -<p>“Yes, I am, chef.”</p> -<p>“Well, if dat don’t beat all!” exclaimed the -surprised cook. “We is just out of striped paint. -If I wasn’t busily pre-incapacitated by carving -dis yere ham for dinner, now, I would shorely -help you-all out. A left-handed bunk-stretcher -wouldn’t do as well, would it, now?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_20">20</div> -<p>“Say, that was the other thing I was sent -for!”</p> -<p>“Who-all sent you?”</p> -<p>“Wally Rawn—he’s my leader.”</p> -<p>“Oh, that Wally boy! It must shore be important -then. If I could only dis-extricate myself -from carvin’ dis yere ham, now——Let -me see. De bestest thing to do under de concircumstances -is for you-all to go down to de boat -dock and petitionate de person in charge to give -you de keys to de campus. And, whiles you’m -down there, you-all might bring up a cargo -what’s waitin’ for some smart young boy to -fetch me. Ask him pussonally from me to deliver -unto you-all de shipment of fence-post -holes and de Royal Official Back-Scratcher.”</p> -<p>“You bet, chef—keys to the campus, fencepost -holes and the Royal Official Back-Scratcher.”</p> -<p>“I thanks you. What might be you-all -name?”</p> -<p>“Blackie.”</p> -<p>“Hmm. I decalculate from dat name dat you -are repartial to doughnuts.” There was a sweet, -sugary smell in the warm kitchen air.</p> -<p>“Doughnuts? You said it, chef!”</p> -<p>“Catch!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_21">21</div> -<p>The grinning Ellick deftly caught up a doughnut -from a bowl beside him, and tossed it in the -air. Blackie got under it like a veteran fielder, -and sped out the door. The gangling Leggy -aimed a parting swing at him with the long-tailed -spoon, and missed.</p> -<p>On the parade ground, Blackie paused in his -headlong lakeward course at the sight of Gil -Shelton, hair combed, face shining from a recent -scrubbing, and spotless for supper. “Hey, -Blackie, where you heading? After fence-post -holes?”</p> -<p>“Yep—how did you know? And striped paint -and a left-handed bunk-stretcher and——”</p> -<p>Gil started in great surprise. “Don’t tell me,” -he exclaimed, “that they picked you to bring -the Royal Official Back-Scratcher?”</p> -<p>“They sure have.”</p> -<p>“That’s a great honor, my son. In fact, only -the newest and greenest boys are ever picked for -it. Say, Blackie, I didn’t think you’d fall for -that old stuff. Did you ever see a fence-post -hole? Does striped paint come in cans?”</p> -<p>Blackie paused and thought for the first time.</p> -<p>“Well, Gil, it was my leader Wally who sent -me. He told me not to tell lies, too, so I thought -it was all right.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_22">22</div> -<p>“Say, did you ever hear of Santa Claus? -Why, for a week now the little, new, green, -smart, bright city boys will be looking all over -the place for striped paint and the key to the -lake. And you fell for it the first thing!”</p> -<p>Gil’s laughter was so deep that Blackie was -glad to get back to the shelter of his tent.</p> -<p>Wally greeted him. “So you didn’t find it, -eh? Well, that’s all right—don’t be discouraged. -You can help me out in another way. Just run -down to the dock, will you, and ask if anyone -down there has seen the key to the lake?”</p> -<p>“Not on your life, Wally,” grinned Blackie. -“Send one of the new fellows down, can’t you?”</p> -<p>The camp bugler, Ted Fellowes, sounded Assembly -Call at that moment, and there was no -time for further talk before supper. After the -Retreat ceremony and the lowering of the flag, -the boys attacked the supper that had been prepared -in the depths of the kitchen. Blackie had -never found a meal that tasted quite so good.</p> -<p>He met the remainder of the boys of Tent -Four at the table. Ken Haviland, the tent aide, -was busily serving as waiter at one end; he had to -run again and again to the serving window for -additional platters of ham, potatoes, and turnips, -mountains of bread and oceans of milk. -Blackie didn’t envy him his job.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_23">23</div> -<p>Wally had evidently met all the boys in his -group. He paused and, between mouthfuls, addressed -them.</p> -<p>“There’s one thing that’s worrying me, gentlemen -of the famous Tent Four group. There are -only seven of us, and there should be eight, -counting myself. One of our number has not -turned up. I shall call our imposing roll. Haviland!”</p> -<p>“Here, sir.” Ken seized his serving tray and -dashed off in pursuit of dessert.</p> -<p>“Thorne! Here, I see. Slater!”</p> -<p>“Here, sir!” answered a freckle-faced boy -with burning red hair.</p> -<p>“Guppy!”</p> -<p>Blackie looked with interest at the boy with -such a beautiful name. He was a little chap of -about eleven, at the end of one row.</p> -<p>“Lefkowitz!”</p> -<p>“Present!” came a squeaky voice from across -the table.</p> -<p>“Gallegher!”</p> -<p>“Here!” He was a sunburnt, black-haired -chap with a scar across his forehead, shaped like -a V.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_24">24</div> -<p>“Crampton! No answer. It is the notorious -Mr. Crampton who is missing. Has anybody -here ever heard tell of the gentleman?”</p> -<p>“That must be Fat,” said Blackie. “We saw -him down at the end of the lake before we hiked -up. He was in the wagon then.”</p> -<p>“Maybe that’s the fat fellow we dumped off -the wagon coming along the road back of camp,” -volunteered Slater. “We told him that walking -was the best way to reduce his figger, and -dumped him out.”</p> -<p>“To our fat friend’s rescue, then, tent-mates!” -cried Wally, drinking down the last of -a glass of milk. “As soon as the Chief makes his -announcements, we shall be in the saddle and off -for the hunt!”</p> -<p>A whistle sounded, and quiet fell on the -groups. The Chief was about to speak. He -rose, an imposing figure of a man, quiet, dignified, -and with a voice full of calm command. He -was dressed in camper’s togs, and wore the green -“L” on his sweater.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_25">25</div> -<p>“All I have to say is this, fellows. We are -all up here for a good time—the best time ever. -Now, I want to mention a few things that will -help the new camper to get along and make himself -at home. Don’t expose yourselves to the sun -too much until you get a coat of tan gradually; -you won’t blister then. Don’t cut up or mark the -trees on the campus of which we are so proud. -Don’t have any firearms in your tents; none of -any kind are permitted here at camp, and if you -have any, bring them up to the lodge and I will -look after them for you. And finally, I only -need mention the rule we have about boys who -smoke. Now, those are all the ‘don’t’s’ I’m -going to mention. In an hour there will be a -grand jubilee campfire below the baseball diamond, -where I will introduce you to the councilors, -who will then have something to say to -you. All set for the best camp season ever! -Everybody happy?”</p> -<p>“Yay!” The resounding, united call of the -campers reverberated among the lodge rafters.</p> -<p>“Let the lions roar!”</p> -<p>“Rao-a-ow!” A pack of well-fed lions never -sent up such a tremendous roaring to the Sahara -moon.</p> -<p>“Dismissed!”</p> -<p>Tent Four remained a little island in the swirling -rush of campers that broke up after the meal.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_26">26</div> -<p>“Are you with me, gang?” shouted Wally. -“Onward to the rescue of our wandering -brother!” He made for the back door, pushing -through the crowd like a fullback carrying the -ball to victory, followed by his eager team of -tent-mates. Tent Four was on the round-up.</p> -<p>No sooner had they reached the road behind -camp than the leader began giving directions, -curtly and with precision. “Spread out, fellows, -and we’ll cover a path on each side of the road. -Keep in touch with my whistle—I’ll be in the -center. Shout for Crampton at intervals, and -we’ll soon have him back in the fold——What’s -that?”</p> -<p>A low moan was heard behind him, just off the -road.</p> -<p>“Help! Help!”</p> -<p>Wally bounded off in the direction from -whence it came. His muscular legs cleared the -low bushes like so many hurdles.</p> -<p>“Behind that big tree!” shouted Gallegher. -The six boys dashed off after their leader, and -found him staring down at a mournful figure -sitting with his back to the trunk of a tall pine. -It was Fat Crampton. His bulging cheeks bore -the trails of tear-marks; he sat hunched amid the -wreckage of his knapsack and accouterment, with -the most woebegone look in the world.</p> -<p>“I’m lost in the woods,” he moaned. “I’ve -been walking around for hours!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_27">27</div> -<p>“Why, you poor nut,” said Blackie, “if you -had walked two steps further you would have -tripped over the camp!”</p> -<p>Fat transferred his doleful gaze. “Oh, -Blackie, is it really you? Say, I’m scared. I -heard a bunch of lions off in the woods a minute -ago, and I thought they were going to get me.”</p> -<p>“Lions, nothing!” The whole tent broke into -a storm of laughter. “That was us! Rao-a-ow! -Look out for us, Fat—we’re lions!”</p> -<p>“Come on, lion-hunter,” said Wally, “come -on and get a meal of raw meat. I think the chef -will have saved something for you.” He lifted -the rotund lad on his shoulder and set off toward -the kitchen, with Fat helplessly waving his arms -from his lofty perch. The rest of the boys ran -with them, roaring terribly and making quips at -the wanderer’s expense.</p> -<p>Little Guppy ran beside Wally, looking up at -the leader.</p> -<p>“I’ll make up Fat’s bunk,” he offered, “if he’ll -tell me where his blankets are.”</p> -<p>“That’s the spirit! Keep it up, and you’ll -make a great aide some day, Gup!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_28">28</div> -<p>By the time the fat boy was fed, the bugle -sounded Assembly for the campfire. It was now -dark, and the campers found their ways down -through the baseball diamond to a field above the -lake shore, where a group of three or four leaders -were standing beside a high pyre of logs and -branches, talking to the Chief. They were Mr. -Frayne, the burly assistant director whom everyone, -even the smallest boys, familiarly called -“Happy Face” because of the smile he always -wore; “Sax” McNulty, the mournful-looking -comedian and saxophone artist who had charge -of the shows and stunt-nights; and Lieutenant -Eames, the West Pointer. The other leaders -were to be found among the crowd of boys settling -around the piled fire.</p> -<p>In the glow of somebody’s flashlight Blackie -caught sight of Gil Shelton’s face in the crowd. -Gil saw him, also, and shouted over: “Hi, -Blackie! How’s the guardian of the Royal Official -Back-Scratcher?”</p> -<p>“Aw, forget it, Gil. Say, what are they going -to do now?”</p> -<p>“Light the fire, of course. Then I guess we’ll -have a song or two, and the Chief will introduce -all the leaders, and somebody will tell a story, and -then we’ll burn all the little new greenhorns at -the stake.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_29">29</div> -<p>Blackie laughed as much as the joke required, -and snuggled down next to Wally, in the midst -of the Tent Four group. The fire was lighted, -and the glow was reflected in the faces of the -happy throng of campers who gathered around -the first campfire of the season. The boys of -Tent Four, already bound together by loyalty -to their leader, were content to lie and listen to -the calm voice of their Chief, as a spout of flaring -sparks rose from the flames to challenge the distant -glitter of the stars.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_30">30</div> -<h2 id="c3">CHAPTER III -<br /><span class="small">AFTER TAPS</span></h2> -<p>The musical echo of Tattoo came from the -bugle, and a hush fell upon Tent Four. -The campfire still smouldered in the field by the -lake, but the campers had passed to their tents -at the Call to Quarters, and were now making -ready to turn in for the night.</p> -<p>Blackie squatted on his bunk and stared at the -faces that were half-illuminated by the solitary -lantern that hung on the tent-pole. Mindful of -the pine-cones that were still in Ken Haviland’s -bed, he was lying low and watching for developments.</p> -<p>The aide had already stripped, and was climbing -into a swathing suit of pajamas. Above him -jutted the head of Lefkowitz, already between -blankets but still full of interest in proceedings.</p> -<p>“I can’t find my nightgown,” wailed little -Guppy at the other end of the tent.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_31">31</div> -<p>“It should be under your pillow,” said Wally. -He stretched his broad arms and yawned prodigiously, -making a noise like an enraged walrus. -“You ought to have pajamas anyway.”</p> -<p>“I put it under the pillow, sir, as Ken told me -to. I had an extra one, but that’s gone too. And -I promised Mother I wouldn’t sleep in my—my -underthings, sir.”</p> -<p>“Well, they’ll probably turn up. For to-night -you can have an extra pair of my pajamas. I -think the pants would be enough for you, though—you’re -not exactly a giant.” Wally produced -a pair of outing-flannel pants, stuffed the small -Guppy into the legs of them, tied the cord about -his neck, and stowed him away between the -blankets like a sack of potatoes.</p> -<p>Ken was turning down the covers. Blackie -watched him feel the blankets all over, and to the -joker’s disappointment, the aide touched several -suspicious bumps and resuscitated the hidden -pine-cones. He tossed them into the night, and -winked at Blackie.</p> -<p>“My camp experience has taught me to always -feel my bed before I turn in,” he grinned. -“Some chaps have a funny sense of humor.” He -hopped in and sprawled out luxuriously.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_32">32</div> -<p>Now that his trap had failed, Blackie bethought -him of turning in also. Slater, who had -been outside gazing at the stars, stepped into the -tent.</p> -<p>“Lots of meteorites falling to-night, sir,” he -observed. “Venus is full, too, I think; she’s -especially bright in the west.” He set about his -preparations for bed.</p> -<p>Gallegher made a spring and landed in his -bunk, just over Blackie’s head. A creaking from -another upper bunk across the way announced -that Fat Crampton had at last been able to climb -to his lofty berth.</p> -<p>“Make it fast, Blackie,” warned the leader. -“You don’t want to be the last one in.”</p> -<p>Blackie was soon arrayed in the popular evening -clothes for the well-dressed camper, and -looked longingly at his inviting bunk. He -slipped between the warm blankets, and -stretched out. Umm—this was the life!</p> -<p>But hold on! Something had him by the leg—something -else was biting him on the foot! -Ouch! He yelled and rolled over the side, to -come to the floor in a whirling pile of boy, blankets, -and—pine-cones!</p> -<p>Gallegher snickered above him.</p> -<p>“The oldest trick there is!” he chuckled. -“These new guys will fall for anything!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_33">33</div> -<p>The crestfallen Blackie struggled upright, and -in the dull lamplight began to make his bed anew.</p> -<p>“That will be all the demonstrations of playfulness -for to-night, gentlemen,” observed Wally, -sitting on the edge of his bunk. “You are all -tired, and need your sleep—I, may it be observed, -need mine also. How anybody has the pep left -to skylark around the first night of camp—or -any other night—is beyond me. As soon as Taps -sounds, Tent Four will be as still as the grave. -The silence, as the book-writers always have it, -will be broken only by the measured breathing -of the slumbering woodsmen and the far call of -a fillyloo bird across the waste. Key down, now.”</p> -<p>He reached for his kit and drew out a book. -“I’m talking seriously now. We are all up here -at Lenape to have the best time ever. It’s my -job as councilor to see that we do. And that’s -what I want to make you fellows understand. -I’ll help you in any way I can to keep you good -campers and to make Lenape proud of you. If -at any time you have anything on your mind, -bring it to me and we’ll talk it out. Now, I’m -going to read you one of the finest things that a -camper ever listened to.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_34">34</div> -<p>He opened the Bible in his hand and read by -the flickering light, in a clear and sincere voice: -“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the -firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto -day uttereth speech, and night unto night -sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language -where their voice is not heard. Their line -is gone out through all the earth, and their words -to the end of the world. In them hath He set a -tabernacle for the sun, which is as a bridegroom -coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a -strong man to run a race. His going forth is -from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto -the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the -heat thereof. The law of the Lord is perfect, -converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord -is sure, making wise the simple.”</p> -<p>Softly and sweetly, as if from afar, came the -first comforting notes of Taps, the finest of music -to a tired camper. Wally doused the lantern, -and the glory of the stars came into the quiet -tent.</p> -<p>“Good-night, fellows,” said Wally quietly. -“Happy dreams!”</p> -<p>Blackie lay quite still in his tumbled bed, -thinking about the stars. Firmament—that was -a word that meant the same as heaven, but not so -nice-sounding. The stars were bright, all right.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_35">35</div> -<p>Gallegher must have put those cones into his -bed, when he had been chasing bunk-stretchers—it -must have been Gallegher, because he had -laughed so hard when Blackie fell out. Well, -so much the worse for Mr. Gallegher! He was -sleeping right above Blackie, and in the morning, -Mr. Gallegher would be surprised. He reached -up one foot, tentatively, to see how the airplane -method would work in helping Gallegher to rise. -The temptation came, and he pushed upward -with both feet, hard.</p> -<p>Zoom! Gallegher flew into the air and came -down to the floor with a wild yell. The experiment -was a success. Tent Four was instantly -alert.</p> -<p>Lefkowitz snickered. Slater moaned dolefully. -Little Guppy said, “What’s that?”</p> -<p>Gallegher lay tumbled on the floor among his -blankets. He had bruised his elbow against a -locker, and it made him mean-tempered.</p> -<p>“Damn you!” he cried. “I’ll get even——”</p> -<p>Through the dark came the calm voice of -Wally. “You seem to have been around a bunch -of pretty foul-mouthed fellows, Gallegher. Gentlemen, -and especially Lenape gentlemen, don’t -talk that way. Chain gang for you Monday -morning.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_36">36</div> -<p>“I don’t care!” shouted Gallegher. “I’d say -it again if he did that to me. If Blackie was a -gentleman, he wouldn’t have given me that airplane -ride. It’s his fault as much as mine. Why -don’t you give him the chain gang, too?”</p> -<p>“Blackie!”</p> -<p>“Yes, sir.” Blackie, chuckling happily to -himself at the thought of the row he had raised, -sat up and leaned on one arm.</p> -<p>“Didn’t I ask you and the other fellows to -key down after Taps?”</p> -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> -<p>“All right. Take your blankets and go sleep -on the ground by the flagpole to-night.”</p> -<p>“But why? I didn’t do a thing but get back -at him for sticking pine-cones in my bunk!”</p> -<p>“On your way. When you can behave decently, -you can sleep with the rest of us again.”</p> -<p>Sullenly, and making as much noise about it as -he dared, Blackie put on his slippers and gathered -up his pillow and blankets over his arm. -The night air was cool, and he shivered slightly -in his pajamas. A pine tree’s branch brushed the -canvas tent-roof above his head, and somewhere -off up the mountain a dog howled dismally. It -didn’t look too inviting out on the darkened -campus by the flagpole; but he didn’t want to -appear a coward and whine to get out of going.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_37">37</div> -<p>“Good-night, you guys,” he said with bravado -and stalked out of the rear of the tent. As he -passed the bunk across from the leader’s, on his -way out, Slater stuffed something among -Blackie’s blankets with a whispered caution.</p> -<p>“Keep it out of sight—you’ve got the chance -to get to the flagpole!”</p> -<p>Blackie nodded and went out on the path. The -stars were like bright candles against a blue-green -silk dome, and somehow their twinkling was not -so pleasant now. He passed a line of tents, some -quiet, one or two filled with low snickers and -cackles and the usual disturbance of the first night -under canvas. The white lodge showed pale and -strange in the starlight; the campus was somehow -changed from what it had been in bright day. -He stumbled across to the base of the flagpole -and began spreading out his bed on the hard -ground. He cleared away one or two stones, -and beat down the high grass as best he could, -and tried to rearrange his blankets into comfortable -shape.</p> -<p>His next care was to examine the bundle that -Slater had passed to him. As he had guessed, it -was the missing nightgown that Guppy had bewailed -at bedtime. He chuckled, thinking of the -scheme that Slater had suggested.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_38">38</div> -<p>He looked around; the coast was clear. The -flagpole was only a few steps away. He -jumped up, unfastened the halyards, and knotting -a sleeve to each end of the rope, hauled -away. Then, almost too sleepy to care where -he lay, he crawled into his twisted bed and was -dead to the world in half a minute, smiling to -think that when the morning sun rose over -Camp Lenape, it would reveal that the campers -had slept under a fluttering ensign that was nothing -more than little Guppy’s pink nightgown.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_39">39</div> -<h2 id="c4">CHAPTER IV -<br /><span class="small">A HARD CASE</span></h2> -<p>Blackie was wakened somewhat rudely the -next morning. A sloshing glass of cold -water landed on his face, and he jumped up half-awake -to find Gil Shelton standing over him in -the fresh sunlight with the empty glass in his -hand.</p> -<p>“Rise and shine!” called the patrol-leader. -“First Call will sound in about a minute. Gee, -you must have been sawing wood not to hear the -noise the gang has been making ever since four -o’clock this morning! Most of the tenderfeet -woke up early and have been horsing around. I -couldn’t sleep, so Chink Towner and Spaghetti -Megaro and I got permission to hike down to the -cottage and back. Look at the big frog we found -by the brook!”</p> -<p>He held up a monstrous bullfrog by the hind -legs, so close to Blackie’s face that he jumped -backwards in alarm, while Gil’s two companions -laughed.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_40">40</div> -<p>“Don’t let him scare you,” said Megaro, the -Italian boy.</p> -<p>“I ain’t afraid. Say, what are you going to -do with him, Gil?”</p> -<p>“Give him to Ellick—he likes to eat frog legs. -Come on, here comes Fellowes with his tin horn -ready to blow First Call.”</p> -<p>Blackie picked up his bed and made his way -to Tent Four. All his tent-mates were awake -and laughing at little Guppy, who had just discovered -that his nightgown was floating in the -breeze at the top of the flagpole. The bugle’s -call routed them all out to formation in front of -the lodge, where after a snappy setting-up drill -the entire camp flew down the slope to the boat -dock for the Indian dip.</p> -<p>The blue waters of the lake reflected a hundred -white bodies standing about the edge of the -dock waiting for Wally’s whistle. No sooner -had it sounded than there was a tremendous -plunging and splashing as most of them tumbled -head-first into the crisp, bracing water. A few -younger boys and timid souls waded in from the -shore.</p> -<p>“Stick your head under, Toots!”</p> -<p>“Oh, boy! Say, ain’t this water cold?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_41">41</div> -<p>“It ain’t cold, you dummy. Just the way I -like it—wakes me up fine!”</p> -<p>Blackie took a swift racing dive off the front -end of the dock, swept cleanly through the water -in a shower of small bubbles, and came to the surface -with a speedy overhand stroke. He swam -some fifty yards out to the life-saving boat that -was stationed there with Sax McNulty at the -oars and a leader named Munson at the bow, and -there floated a minute. He was surprised to hear -the trill of the whistle, followed by cries of “All -out!”</p> -<p>Swimming over to the dock again, he shouted -in a grieved tone to Wally, who was supervising -the general exodus from the water, “What’s -the idea, Wally? Do you call this a swim?”</p> -<p>“Of course not—this is just morning dip, and -you’ll get a chill if you stay in long. Swim comes -later.”</p> -<p>“Aw, heck!” Somewhat disgruntled, he -climbed out and raced back to the tent to dress -for breakfast.</p> -<p>The morning meal over, there was a period of -duty. “We’re on police squad, you fellows!” -called Ken Haviland.</p> -<p>“Police?” asked Blackie. “What do we do—go -around arresting guys?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_42">42</div> -<p>“No, you sap. Get a blanket and I’ll show -you.”</p> -<p>Blackie discovered that policing camp merely -meant going about the campus and picking up -bits of paper and destroying unsightly objects -that littered the paths. Church Call sounded -soon after they finished, and together with the -rest of the campers he went to a shady glade in -the forest beside the lake and sat on a log while -the short Sunday service was held. He liked sitting -there in the leafy woods and singing the various -tunes, even though they were the same ones -they sang in Sunday-school at home; he admired -the handiwork of the rustic pulpit that the campers -had built the year before; but when the Chief -began his talk he was frankly bored. The Chief -was saying something about different trees and -how they were like different kinds of boys; but -Blackie only listened now and then. He was -wishing that church was over and that they could -go in swimming again; and he passed the time -catching ants and dropping them down the neck -of a smaller boy who sat in front of him.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_43">43</div> -<p>As a matter of fact the service was quite brief; -but it seemed to him that it would never end. -After years of waiting, or so he thought, the -brisk challenge of Swim Call came from the lodge -porch, and slipping into his bathing suit, he -headed again for the dock. He was the first one -there, with the exception of the life-saving crew, -composed equally of councilors and older boys -who had won the Red Cross emblem that was -stitched over their breasts. Wally was in charge; -he was sending out three boats to patrol the -waters about the dock and posting the guards -who would stand in various places about the -tower to be on the watch for water accidents. -When this was done, the man turned to Blackie.</p> -<p>“First one down for swim? Say, if you’d only -show as much speed doing squad-duty, the rest -of the fellows wouldn’t have to do a thing!”</p> -<p>“Can I go in now, Wally?”</p> -<p>“You’ll have to hold yourself down until the -rest get here and the whistle blows. The rule is -that there’s no swimming except when the life-savers -are on duty. There aren’t going to be any -accidents while I’m in charge. By the way, I noticed -this morning at Indian dip that you’re not a -bad swimmer.”</p> -<p>“I’m pretty good, I guess,” said Blackie modestly.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_44">44</div> -<p>“Do you know the Australian crawl? No? -Well, if you want to make speed, that’s the stroke -to use. The camp always holds a big boat regatta -and swimming meet at the end of each section—that’s -two weeks from now—and we compete -with our old rivals of Camp Shawnee. I’d like -to see you take a few honors and help us to beat -them. What say I teach you the crawl some -time?”</p> -<p>“Now?”</p> -<p>“To-morrow, maybe. Well, here comes the -gang!” He turned away as the crowd of campers, -all in swimming togs, trooped on to the dock, -and at the sound of his whistle the swim began.</p> -<p>Blackie sported about the water happily for -the remainder of the period. He was quite -pleased with himself for having thus been singled -out by his leader for swimming ability. Tired of -circling about the life-boats, he began ducking -less experienced swimmers and pushing boys off -the dock into the water, until he was reprimanded -for this conduct by Lieutenant Eames because -of the danger of someone slipping and injuring -himself against one of the piles or the superstructure -of the dock. This scolding made him sulky, -and he swam by himself until the whistle blew, -and then tardily walked up to the tent, stopping -many times on the way to chase butterflies or to -hunt for snakes among the rocks; and thus, when -he finally reached the tent, he found his comrades -working busily. All the beds were made except -his own, and under the direction of Ken Haviland, -the boys were sweeping and arranging, -cleaning the tent lantern, putting their lockers in -order, and tidying up the place.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_45">45</div> -<p>“Where have you been?” the aide greeted him. -“Snap out of it and get dressed and make your -bunk and get ready for inspection. Wally had -to go up to leaders’ meeting at the lodge.”</p> -<p>“Aw, don’t make such a fuss,” said Blackie. -“I’ll do it, won’t I?”</p> -<p>“Yes, but we have only a couple minutes -before inspection. If the tent isn’t in apple-pie -order, we don’t stand a chance to win the pennant -to-day.”</p> -<p>“Well, what if we don’t? What’s the good of -having an old pennant in front of your tent? It -don’t get you anything.”</p> -<p>“But don’t you see it means that the Tent -Four bunch are the best campers? When you’re -here longer you’ll learn not to waste time talking -back when we have a chance to show our -stuff.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_46">46</div> -<p>Without haste, Blackie peeled off his swimming -suit and cast it on the floor, dressed with -tantalizing slowness, and with a scowl at the aide, -began to make his bed. He knew that Haviland -was angry and thought it a good chance to get -the tall camper’s “goat.” In the midst of his -preparations the call came down the line, “All -out of tents for inspection!” Haviland and the -others jumped outside and lined up at attention, -but Blackie delayed to try and shake his blankets -into shape. Just as he stepped outside, Mr. -Colby, one of the councilors and a scoutmaster -known for his strictness, came along with his inspection -staff.</p> -<p>“Tent Four! Two demerits for having a -camper inside the tent after inspection call. The -tent seems to be in pretty good shape, but there’s -a wet bathing suit in the middle of the floor, and -one bunk that isn’t made. Sorry, Haviland—but -this will give you so many demerits that you’ll -probably get the booby prize to-day! Any -excuse?”</p> -<p>“No excuse, sir,” answered Haviland, looking -daggers at the guilty Blackie. After the inspection -crew had passed on, he turned to Blackie -and said, “We would have had a good chance -at the pennant if it hadn’t been for you! As it -is, we’ll probably have the booby can tied to our -tent-pole until to-morrow! What do you say, -fellows—shall I recommend that Wally puts him -on the chain gang?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_47">47</div> -<p>“Put me on the gang if you want to—I don’t -care!” exclaimed Blackie boldly; but he was -silent all during dinner, and even fried chicken, -green corn and ice-cream failed to make him -forget that his careless attitude had won him the -black looks of all his tent-mates.</p> -<p>After the meal there was the usual siesta -period. The boys were scattered about lying in -their bunks, resting and writing letters home. -Blackie crouched in his place with a pencil and -pad before him. Haviland sat across from him, -now and then looking gloomily up at a big tin -can, painted black with the white letters BOOBY -across it, which hung swinging in plain sight over -the front steps. Slater was writing busily. Fat -Crampton was asleep, and Gallegher was tickling -the stout boy’s nose and neck with a stalk of -grass, while Guppy and Lefkowitz watched the -proceedings with amusement.</p> -<p>Blackie looked down at what he had written. -“Dear Mother—We got here O. K. and Camp -Lenape is a fine camp. I am on the Chain Gang -already and the swimming is O. K. I will learn -the Ostralien crawl soon please send me up some -fudge and cake. Last night I slep out-door. -I think this is a fine camp o boy and don’t forget -the fudge and cake and some chewing gum too.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_48">48</div> -<p>He read this over for the fifth time, wondered -what to put down next, and looked up to find -Haviland watching him.</p> -<p>“What’s biting you?” Blackie asked. “Still -sore because you didn’t win your old pennant?”</p> -<p>“It’s not myself I’m worrying about, but after -dinner I heard a couple of the other leaders -kidding Wally because he is always so proud of -having his tent make a good showing, and to-day -we were handed the merry razz.”</p> -<p>Blackie snorted. “Say, who is this guy Wally -that he should boss us around? Always blowing -his whistle just when the water’s getting good!”</p> -<p>“Yeah,” put in Gallegher, who had finally -succeeded in awakening Fat Crampton. “Down -our way all the guys would think he was sure a -sissy, landin’ on me just because I cussed a little.”</p> -<p>“He wouldn’t give me seconds on ice-cream, -either,” said Fat Crampton mournfully. “Said -I ought to start to reduce.”</p> -<p>Ken looked at them all pityingly. “Say, don’t -you know Wally is a senior at Columbia University -and on the varsity water-polo and basketball -teams? He’s coming up here and spending his -time teaching you birds how to be good campers, -and that’s all the thanks he gets!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_49">49</div> -<p>“I guess he has a pretty good time,” said -Blackie.</p> -<p>“Of course he does, or he wouldn’t be here. -But it’s no fun to have a tent full of lazy draw-backs -like you that object every time he tries to -make a good showing.”</p> -<p>There was a short space of silence. Slater -looked up from his writing.</p> -<p>“Hey, Ken, do we have council ring to-night?” -he asked.</p> -<p>“Sure.”</p> -<p>“What’s council ring?” asked Blackie curiously.</p> -<p>Slater explained. “Just when it’s getting -dark, we all put on blankets and go over to -council, just like the Indians used to do. We all -sit in a circle around a four-square fire, and one -of the fellows lights the fire with flint and steel, -or else with rubbing-sticks. Then we have report -of scouts. Any fellow who has seen any interesting -birds or animals or anything like that gets up -and tells about them. Then we suggest anything -we can do to help make the camp better and -offer to do it. Then they have all kinds of contests—hand-wrestling -and talk-fests and imitations, -and usually end up with a ghost story. It’s -real fun, all right.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_50">50</div> -<p>Blackie remembered that Gil had pointed out -the way to the council ring the evening before, -and suddenly thought he would like to see the -place by daylight. He put away his letter, rose, -and stretched.</p> -<p>“So long, you guys,” he said.</p> -<p>“Where are you going?” asked the aide. -“Nobody’s allowed to leave until after Recall.”</p> -<p>“None of your business—and if you ask me, -I think you’re nothing but a spy on us for this -Wally of yours.” He dived into the bushes and -disappeared before Haviland could follow.</p> -<p>Not only did he want the fun of tormenting -Ken, but also wishing to look over the famous -council ring, he took a course through the woods -that he thought would bring him out at the place -he sought. It was quiet; the camp was still even -for a Sunday afternoon. He pressed through -the underbrush and in a short time stumbled -upon a well-worn path that led in the direction -he was going. Shortly he caught a glimpse of -white birch railings through the leaves, and he -trod softly in case there should be anyone there -who might question him. His precaution proved -to be wise. From a clearing ahead came the low -hum of men’s voices.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_51">51</div> -<p>A circle some fifty yards across had been -cleared in the woods, and seats built about it, -with an imposing stone dais on the north side to -furnish a proper elevation for the chieftain. -Sitting on this stone were the Chief himself and -Wally Rawn, chatting together.</p> -<p>They had not seen him, and it struck Blackie -that it might be a daring thing to get close -enough to overhear their conference. Forgetful -of the old saying that eavesdroppers seldom hear -well of themselves, he wormed his way around -through the bushes and found a place where he -could listen without being seen.</p> -<p>“I approve of the life-saving crew assignments -you’ve made, then, Wally,” the Chief was saying. -He rose as if to leave. “By the way, what do -you think of the bunch I’ve put in your tent?”</p> -<p>“They look pretty good,” answered Wally. -“They ought to turn out first-rate after a couple -of days. Haviland is a pretty capable kid, and -Slater is bugs about stars and scouting and -doesn’t give much trouble. That Crampton lad -is lazy, but I hope to have him get over that -when we get out on the hikes.”</p> -<p>“You have two fellows I put in with you because -they need pretty careful leadership. Know -who they are?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_52">52</div> -<p>“Think I do, Chief—Gallegher and that -Blackie Thorne.”</p> -<p>“Right. Gallegher comes from the worst part -of town, and I think he may have picked up a -lot of questionable habits. Thorne is a different -sort. He’s lively and smart as a whip; but his -father is dead and maybe he’s getting to be too -much for his mother to handle alone. He’s full -of mischief, his scoutmaster tells me, but he ought -to turn out right. They’re a pair of hard cases, -I guess; but keep them busy and they’ll soon be -real Lenape fellows.”</p> -<p>“I like hard cases,” grinned Wally. “Blackie -is crazy about swimming; guess I can get him -interested through that, and the old camp spirit -is bound to follow. Well, let’s get back.”</p> -<p>The two men, arm in arm, disappeared down -the path. Blackie Thorne, in his hidden covert, -laughed unpleasantly at their backs.</p> -<p>“Hard case, am I?” he said to himself. -“Well, Mr. Smart Wally, if you call me that, -I guess all I can do is to try and live up to it!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_53">53</div> -<h2 id="c5">CHAPTER V -<br /><span class="small">TREASURE</span></h2> -<p>“This chain gang ain’t so bad,” remarked -Gallegher.</p> -<p>It was after breakfast on Monday morning. -He and Blackie, as well as three other culprits, -were chopping wood behind the camp kitchen -with the supervision and assistance of Jim Avery, -a tall, gangling councilor who was a specialist in -woodcraft and bird-study.</p> -<p>Blackie split up a knotty stick of oak before -replying.</p> -<p>“Sure, this ain’t such hard work. The leader -does half of it, anyway. Say, you were pretty -good, to cuss right in front of Wally the other -night.”</p> -<p>“Aw, that’s nothin’. I guess I’m pretty -tough, all right. I used to go down by the railroad -lots of times and hook rides on the freight -cars. Once I bummed clear out to Scranton and -back, that way.”</p> -<p>“Gee! No wonder the Chief said you was a -hard case!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_54">54</div> -<p>Gallegher stopped his chopping, and looked up -proudly. “Did he say that?”</p> -<p>“Yeah. I heard him talking to our noble -councilor about us. He said we were both hard -cases, and that Wally would have to watch us.”</p> -<p>“Well, if that’s the way they do in this camp, -I’m sure goin’ to get away with everything I -can. How about it—are you with me, Thorne?”</p> -<p>“Sure.”</p> -<p>They split wood for a while in silence. -Blackie’s back began to ache from stooping over -so much. He dropped his ax and stretched.</p> -<p>“Gosh, I’m getting sick of this job. When -Jim lets us go, I’m going to head for my bunk -and stay there the rest of the day.”</p> -<p>“Say, what did you come to camp for—to be -a bunk-stretcher?” asked Gallegher. “They’re -goin’ to have tests for the honor emblem this -mornin’—ain’t you goin’ to try for one?”</p> -<p>“What’s the honor emblem? What good is -it?”</p> -<p>“Aw, you have to pass a lot of tests, and then -they give you a badge to sew on your jersey. -You’ve seen them—lots of the guys have won -them.”</p> -<p>“You mean the things with a swastika and a -big L on them? What do you get for it?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_55">55</div> -<p>“Say, don’t be dumb all your life! If a guy -has an honor emblem he can join the Bugs -Society and have an initiation and a feed, and -then he can get away with lots of things, just -because he’s got a badge, see? It’s somethin’ like -the Knights of Columbus.”</p> -<p>“Oh. What did you say you have to do to -get one?”</p> -<p>“A bunch of things, like knowin’ the names of -the parts of a boat and bein’ good at hikin’ and -swimmin’ and athaletics——”</p> -<p>“That’s me. I can do all those things.”</p> -<p>“—And collect flowers and tree leaves and -rocks, and know the names of the stars, and box -the compass, and cook a meal, and build cabins -and do stunts—a whole lot of stuff. We can do -it easy.”</p> -<p>Blackie considered this, and after his work was -done he joined a nature hike. During the hour -before swim, he learned much that he had not -previously known about geology and ferns, and -collected the ten leaves he must identify as one -of the qualifications toward his honor emblem.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_56">56</div> -<p>Since overhearing Wally and the Chief in the -council ring, his attitude toward his leader had -changed. He now thought of Wally as an -irksome guardian and taskmaster, and found -excuses for himself to disagree with every suggestion -the councilor made. Nevertheless, he -remembered Wally’s promise of the previous -day, and after all the other campers had come -out of the water after swim, he touched Wally -on the arm and reminded him that he was to be -taught the Australian crawl.</p> -<p>The life-saving crew now had its brief moment -of fun. They were having a game of water-tag -about the boats and up the diving-tower. Blackie -thought it great sport to be with them, and under -Wally’s direction to seem one of the outfit that -was so much at home in deep water. He kept -one eye on their antics and with the other watched -Wally Rawn demonstrate the approved method -of breathing with the crawl stroke that sent him -plowing through the sunlit water at a speedy -rate. Then it came Blackie’s turn to show what -he had learned, while Wally stood on the dock -and shouted directions.</p> -<p>“That’s right—take a breath every fourth -stroke, and let it out under water! Don’t use -that frog kick—use the trudgeon! Keep your -fingers together! That’s the way.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_57">57</div> -<p>At first Blackie found it hard to get the -correct timing for his breaths, but after some -twenty minutes Wally called a halt and put an -end to the lesson for the day, pronouncing himself -well satisfied with the boy’s progress.</p> -<p>“If we keep on like this, you ought to win a -couple first places in the Shawnee meet, Blackie. -I’ll give you some diving instruction later on—I -think I’ll give all the fellows in the tent a chance -to learn a few jack-knives and swan dives.”</p> -<p>“What do we get if we win?” asked Blackie.</p> -<p>“Award ribbons, and lots of glory for Lenape. -What more do you want? You’re pretty young -yet, kid—but I hope it won’t be long before you -find out that the biggest rewards in life are the -ones you don’t get paid for. Money or silver -cups or ice-cream don’t begin to compare with the -ownership of an alert mind, a strong, clean, -healthy body, fine friendships, and a reputation -for honor and manliness and courage. Do you -know there’s a treasure buried here on the Lenape -campus?”</p> -<p>Blackie was aglow on the instant. “Where? -Do you know where to dig for it? Is it a pirate -treasure? Let me help you hunt for it, Wally!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_58">58</div> -<p>The man smiled. “There you go again—always -on the lookout for a selfish, personal -gain! The treasure I mean isn’t made of Spanish -doubloons and stolen jewels; but it’s here, waiting -for every boy to find it for himself. If you’ve -got the right stuff in you, Blackie, and I think -you have, you can take that treasure home with -you when you leave camp. It’s a treasure you -wouldn’t want to trade for anything else in the -world—the treasure of a true Lenape spirit.”</p> -<p>Blackie’s visions of delving in the dead of night -for a glittering hoard in a pirate chest vanished. -Somewhat downcast, he muttered, “Aw, don’t -preach! Just the same, I sure would like to take -home a bunch of money that I found up here.”</p> -<p>“Well, stranger things have happened. Guess -your mother would be proud if you did.”</p> -<p>“Sure! It would help a lot; we don’t have -much money since Dad left us. You see, she -runs a little store and sells sewing things and -fancy embroidery and stuff like that.”</p> -<p>Wally nodded. “Did you ever stop to think -how much she is sacrificing to give you a good -time camping up here in the woods?”</p> -<p>“I guess so,” said Blackie uncomfortably. -“Let’s go. We don’t want to be late to-day—we -don’t want to get the booby prize for inspection -twice in a row.”</p> -<p>“That’s the spirit!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_59">59</div> -<h2 id="c6">CHAPTER VI -<br /><span class="small">THE HERMIT’S HOUSE</span></h2> -<p>That night after supper, when the whistle -had shrilled for silence, Happy Face -Frayne, who was officer of the day, made announcement -of the evening’s program. “We still -have lots of daylight left after supper, so we have -planned a few short hikes before dark. Then, -after that, we’ll gather here in the lodge around -the fire and have some songs and stories.”</p> -<p>“Hurray!”</p> -<p>“Mr. Munson will take a group up the mountain -road to the Devil’s Potato Patch. Mr. -Colby will head a boating expedition to the dam -at the end of the lake, while those who want to -visit Rattlesnake Joe, the hermit, will report to -Dr. Cannon. Those who stay in camp can have -a rousing game of volley ball—Long Jim Avery -and Lieutenant Eames will choose sides.”</p> -<p>“Hurray!”</p> -<p>“Dismissed!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_60">60</div> -<p>“Where you going, you crazy Irishman?” -Blackie asked his bosom friend Gallegher when -they were outside.</p> -<p>“Me? I’m goin’ to start out with the bunch -up the mountain, and then lose myself. You -want to come?” He winked significantly.</p> -<p>“What are you going to do?”</p> -<p>“You’ll see, if you come with me. We’ll get -away from these babies and have a good time of -our own.”</p> -<p>“All right. Hi, Gil!” shouted Blackie, as his -patrol-leader passed by. “Where you heading?”</p> -<p>“Up the lake. Say, you remember when we -hiked the short way to camp the first night we -came up? You remember that house you asked -me about? Well, now’s your chance to see it -closer. That’s where the hermit lives, and he’s -a queer old bird if there ever was one.”</p> -<p>At Gil’s words the picture of that secret, sinister -house on the mountainside, as Blackie had -first glimpsed it, came back to him.</p> -<p>“That’s right—thanks for reminding me. I’m -sorry, Irish—I’ll sneak off with you some other -time.”</p> -<p>He slipped away and joined the group around -Dr. Cannon, the camp medico, at the lodge steps. -There were some fifteen or twenty campers who -clamored about the short, sturdy figure of the -doctor, deluging him with questions about their -destination.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_61">61</div> -<p>“The old hermit, Rattlesnake Joe, is one of -the sights of this part of the country,” he said, -quieting them with a gesture. “I don’t need to -tell you anything more—you’ll see him for yourselves -soon enough. Keep together—forward, -march!”</p> -<p>The boys straggled behind him as he led the -way around behind the kitchen and the ice-house -and on past the Red Cross tent to the road. -Blackie marched in company with the Utway -twins and a shock-haired “two-striper” nicknamed -“Sunfish” because he had once fallen out -of a canoe and when he was pulled up on the -dock, it was discovered that he had unwittingly -trapped a good-sized sunfish in one of the pockets -of his sweater.</p> -<p>The hikers turned off to the right where the -road turned up the mountain, and headed down -a marshy lane bounded with a stone fence on -each side. The small, stinging deer-flies swarmed -about their heads, and Jerry Utway, one of the -twins, showed Blackie how to fasten a handkerchief -around his head so that it would flutter and -keep the bothersome insects at a distance.</p> -<p>“See that tree?” asked the Sunfish.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_62">62</div> -<p>Blackie nodded.</p> -<p>“Well, that’s a black birch tree—the kind they -make birch beer from. Some time I’ll show you -how to tap it and get a drink of the sap—it -tastes great. Here, take this twig and chew on -it. Doesn’t it taste something like sassafras?”</p> -<p>“Come on—we’ll be back with Elephant -Crampton in a minute,” urged Jake, the other of -the twins. “Hurry up if you kids want to see -the old hermit before dark.”</p> -<p>They increased their pace, and caught up with -the vanguard about Dr. Cannon just as the mysterious -house came into sight at the end of the -lane. Surrounded by the shouting company of -the campers, Blackie was not so awed by the -place as he had been when, alone with Gil, he -had glimpsed it from afar on his first memorable -evening in camp. There were the same weathered -shingles on the low roof, the same dirty windows -and decaying out-houses—but it did not seem so -unreal and awful now.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_63">63</div> -<p>On their approach they were announced by the -furious baying and howling of half a dozen -hounds that leaped and pulled at their chains -beside a rickety kennel by the door. The campers -drew back, hoping with all their hearts that none -of the dogs would break loose. The door was -flung open, and a tall old man stamped out and -began quieting the hounds, beating their heads -with a stick until they subsided, whimpering. -Then he turned and gazed strangely at the group -of boys, shading his eyes against the slanting rays -of sunset.</p> -<p>“Wal, now,” he said after a minute, “if it -ain’t the Doctor and the camp-ground boys. -How be ye, Doc?” He extended a dirty and -claw-like hand. Blackie was near enough to -notice that the finger-nails were all about half an -inch long, broken, ragged, and encrusted with -mold.</p> -<p>Indeed, as Blackie watched him shake hands -with Dr. Cannon and step back to lounge in the -doorway, he seemed a far from attractive personality. -He was probably sixty years old, with -a tall, stoop-shouldered body. He leaned -slouchily against the rough doorpost, and the -blackened fingers of one hand nervously combed -a ragged and greasy beard that was streaked with -gray. The same tangled gray prevailed in the -straggling hair that crawled from beneath his -battered felt hat, and in the discouraged mustache -that drooped to mingle with the beard. -The hermit’s eyes were bleared by sitting beside -a smoky fire, and were overhung by bushy brows. -Now and then, as he talked, he would profanely -quiet the hounds at his feet, who, it must be admitted, -were far more intelligent and far cleaner -than their master.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_64">64</div> -<p>“Glad ye’ve come, boys,” he drawled. “Allus -glad to see boys here. Glad to see anybody. I -been livin’ all alone here five year now come -fall, sence my boy Jase left me to go over and -cut ties in Pike County. Good boy, Jase was, -but him and me couldn’t get along right well -together. Say, Doc, when ye get back to camp-ground -ye kin give Ellick and the Chief my -regards fer sendin’ up that sack of flour last -week. Shore did enj’y it.”</p> -<p>“We thought you might,” said the doctor. -“These boys wanted to take a little hike to-night, -and I brought them up to call on you.”</p> -<p>“Thet’s fine—allus glad to see boys. Well, -boys, guess ye want to see my old thunderbolt, -don’t ye? I allus show all the boys that thunderbolt——” -He entered his house and with a -long knife pried up a flat flagstone, one of those -forming the hearth before his fireplace. Blackie -saw him kneeling in a shaft of sunlight beside the -cold embers, and watched until he drew forth -from its hiding-place what seemed to be a long, -thin, slate-colored piece of stone or iron. The -hermit brought it out and passed it around for -all to see. It was pitted and twisted, like a short -iron bar that had been exposed to rough use and -rust for years.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_65">65</div> -<p>“Thet’s my thunderbolt,” the hermit explained. -“Ten year ago come August we had -a whackin’ big storm—black clouds piled high -over the hills here till it looked like midnight. -All of a sudden, bang! comes a big blast of -lightnin’, and hit thet old oak tree out thar—it -was a big tree then, but it’s only a stump now. -After the storm was all over I come out thar -and saw this stuck right in the middle of the -tree—had to cut it out with my old ax. Look at -it close, young fellers—ye don’t get a chance to -see a reg’lar thunderbolt every day.”</p> -<p>The boys hurriedly passed the famous object -from hand to hand, for it was suddenly growing -dark and the doctor had announced that it was -time to leave. Blackie was not at all regretful -to leave the neighborhood of that ruined house, -which became more unfriendly as the long -shadows of the pines barred and striped its mouldering -walls.</p> -<p>“How long has he lived here?” he asked Dr. -Cannon as they hiked on the return journey at -a rapid pace.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_66">66</div> -<p>“All his life, I guess,” was the reply. “He -makes a poor living, cutting railroad ties and -raising a few pigs and chickens—just enough to -scrape along on. It just shows you what a life -of ignorance and dirt can do to a man.”</p> -<p>“Was that a true story about his thunderbolt?”</p> -<p>“There aren’t really any bolts thrown down -during a thunderstorm. That thing he had may -be what is called a belemnite, or maybe just a -piece of meteoric iron he found, and made up -the story about it afterward.”</p> -<p>On the return trip Jerry Utway discovered a -patch of gooseberries. He and his brother and -Blackie and Sunfish clustered about and found a -few berries that had ripened.</p> -<p>“Well, Blackie,” said Sunfish, talking with -his mouth full, “guess you won’t feel so lively -to-morrow night.”</p> -<p>“Why? What’s going to happen?”</p> -<p>“Stuck-Ups.”</p> -<p>“What’s that?”</p> -<p>The two-striper put his thumbs in his ears and -waggled his fingers mysteriously. “You’ll see,” -he said meaningly. “They initiate all the new -campers then. Big secret society; everybody -tries to join, but they don’t always stand the tortures.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_67">67</div> -<p>“Do they have real good tortures at this -camp?” asked Jake. “We joined up at Camp -Coutrell last year, so we don’t have to get initiated -here. Oh, boy! We were black and blue for -a week afterwards!”</p> -<p>“What do they do to a guy?” asked Blackie.</p> -<p>“You’ll find out. The Grand Mogul makes -the neophytes—the new guys—do all sorts of -things and go through all kinds of tortures.”</p> -<p>“I won’t do it,” announced Blackie, with a -sudden sinking of the heart.</p> -<p>“Oh, you’ll have to, if you want to be one -of the society. After you get in, it’s lots of -fun helping to initiate the ones that join after -you do. And some day, maybe you can work up -to be one of the officers, like the Exalted Overseers -of the Rabble or the Supreme Potent Inquisitors -or the Sublunary Administers of the -Last Rites.”</p> -<p>“That sounds fine, but I don’t want to be -black and blue for a week. Can’t you get in -without being tortured?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_68">68</div> -<p>“Oh, no!” said Sunfish. “A guy has to go -through perils and trials before he ever amounts -to anything in the world. Come on—we’ll be -the last ones in camp as it is.”</p> -<p>The four hastened after that. A few hundred -yards from camp they came upon Fat Crampton, -weary but still determined, and cheered him -with the news that the tents were not far away. -Through the trees was borne the rollicking -chorus of the singers gathered about the fireplace -in the lodge, united in good fellowship and roaring -out the lilting words of the Lenape marching -song:</p> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="t0">“Oh, I’ve travelled the world from shore to shore</p> -<p class="t">And sailed on every sea,</p> -<p class="t0">But there ain’t no spot in the whole darned lot</p> -<p class="t">Like old Camp Le-na-pe!”</p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_69">69</div> -<h2 id="c7">CHAPTER VII -<br /><span class="small">INITIATION</span></h2> -<p>The coming initiation ceremony of the -Stuck-Up Society was the chief subject of -conversation during Tuesday. Many were the -direful hints and bloodthirsty tales that the new -campers heard from the lips of seasoned Lenape -boys, who, of course, were all members of the -society and who were all occupied in getting out -their regalia and ceremonial weapons in preparation -for the big night.</p> -<p>Immediately after the supper dishes were -washed, the lodge was cleared of all except the -dozen members of the society who had been -chosen to arrange the mess-hall as the Throne -Room. Blackie, sitting on the steps in front of -his tent, could hear a prodigious thumping and -running and hurly-burly inside the lodge, but -could see nothing, because blankets had been -hung over all the windows and the door was -guarded. He was gravely watching Slater, who -had been initiated the year before. The red-headed -boy was putting the finishing touches on -a war-club he had just made, meanwhile whistling -the Funeral March in a dolorous key.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div> -<p>“How’s that?” he asked, whirling the formidable -club by its thong. “When you’re a member, -you can bear one of these at initiations too.”</p> -<p>“Say, how do you make one of those clubs?” -asked Blackie.</p> -<p>“First you find a nice little white birch tree. -You dig it up and cut it off about two feet above -the roots; then you peel it around the base and -sharpen the roots. Then you can cut your mark -and decorations and designs on the bark, like this. -If you soak it in water soon after it’s cut, it gives -it this nice, red, bloody color.”</p> -<p>“All loyal Stuck-Ups come to the Throne -Room!” came a call through the megaphone on -the lodge porch.</p> -<p>“So long,” said Slater. “I’ve got to go up -now. I’ll see you later. Take my advice and -don’t get fresh with the Grand Mogul, or it’ll be -all the worse for you.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_71">71</div> -<p>He departed, swinging his club with gusto. -Blackie left to join the group of new campers -who were gathered under the big black-cherry -tree by the baseball field to await the summons to -their doom. There were about forty of them; -among them he found many he knew, mostly -boys who had never spent a season at Lenape. -Lefkowitz, Guppy, Fat Crampton, and Gallegher -were those from Tent Four who, beside -himself, were to prepare to undergo the awful -ordeal. They sat about nervously on the stone -fence, trying to reassure themselves by bold talk -and a great deal of forced laughter.</p> -<p>“Here they come!” shouted one boy after a -while, and instantly there was silence. All eyes -were turned to watch the approach of the Outer -Guard, which consisted of four older boys marching -toward them in formation. Each one of them -wore nothing but a towel caught about his hips -and knotted on the side, and fantastic peaked -hats some three feet high that had been made by -wetting an ordinary felt hat and pulling it over -the end of a baseball bat until the crown had -stretched to a high point. The faces and bodies -of the Guard were barbarically daubed and -streaked with colored grease-paint, and each bore -over his shoulder a broad-bladed canoe paddle.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_72">72</div> -<p>They solemnly halted beside the secretly trembling -neophytes, and “Kipper” Dabney, who -was in charge, spoke in hollow tones: “Line up -by the alphabet—those with names beginning -with A are in front. You are all about to undergo -the dread inquisition of the Omnipotent -Stuck-Up Society. Meditate upon your benighted -souls, and ponder how best you can -serve the spirit of Lenape!”</p> -<p>He counted off the first four boys in the line, -and marched them away to the lodge porch. -Blackie saw Dabney give a secret knock and a -password; the portals of the Throne Room unclosed; -there was a flourish of trumpets, and -then an ominous silence that lasted until the -Outer Guard again came to take four more -aspirants to the great hall of the society.</p> -<p>Four by four, Blackie Thorne saw his fellows -vanish into the echoing Throne Room. He was -almost at the end of the line, and did not know -whether to be pleased or sorry that he would be -one of the last to be initiated; but Fat Crampton -went with the second bunch, and both Guppy -and Gallegher with the fourth. Blackie was surprised -to see the latter, about twenty minutes -after he had entered, ejected somewhat roughly -through the door and escorted down the steps by -two stalwart guards.</p> -<p>“What’s the matter?” he called. “What did -they do to you, Irish?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div> -<p>“Aw, they booted me out of their old society!” -mumbled Gallegher. “They let that little -squirt Guppy stay in, though. Guess I didn’t -bow down and lick their boots enough to suit -’em.”</p> -<p>“Key down, you!” ordered one of the guards. -“You have been told to go to your tent. You, -Thorne, get back in line and wait your turn.”</p> -<p>Blackie returned to his place, wondering at this -new development. Gallegher had failed to pass -the trials for some reason; evidently the Stuck-Ups -did not accept everybody. But he figured -that he was at least as clever as Nightshirt Guppy -and could stand any test they might put to him.</p> -<p>At last there were only three neophytes left -under the cherry-tree—Blackie, a younger boy -named “Peanut” Westover, and Slim Yerkes. -Peanut had grown more and more timid as the -minutes passed, and at last ventured to address -the others in quavering tones.</p> -<p>“Do—do you think they’re going to hurt us -much?”</p> -<p>“Maybe,” said Blackie. “Who cares if they -do?”</p> -<p>“I sneaked my pillow out here with me,” confessed -the boy, “and stuffed it in the seat of my -trousers. Some of the kids said they paddle you -something awful.”</p> -<p>“Well, we’re in for it now,” said Yerkes, -pointing. “Here come the guards for us.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_74">74</div> -<p>The three neophytes were surrounded by the -serious-faced paddle-bearers and marched up the -steps to the porch. Blackie assumed a careless -expression to conceal his inward misgivings, and -whistled with as much bravado as he could muster.</p> -<p>Knock! Knock! Knock! Kipper Dabney -whispered a password through the keyhole, the -door swung open, and they were marched inside. -Two boys with sashes about their waists, whom -Blackie recognized as Ted Fellowes and his -younger brother, put pennant-hung bugles to -their lips and blew a clarion call that set the -rafters ringing. The huge room was dark except -for a space in front of the empty fireplace, where -a row of lanterns shed a yellow glare which, -however, did not reveal the faces of three men -who sat, robed in blankets, upon a high dais made -of benches piled one upon the other. About the -circle the grotesquely-costumed members of the -society sat in grim silence, nursing their war-clubs -and looking with threatening anticipation -at the three newcomers.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_75">75</div> -<p>From the darkness came the gruesome chords -of the Funeral March, played on the concealed -piano; and down an aisle in the center of the -seated initiates proceeded the guarded trio. -Peanut Westover was shivering with fear, and -his knees were knocking together at every step. -With a roll of drums they arrived before the -dais, and were lined up facing the almost indistinguishable -robed figures of the Grand Master -and his two potentates.</p> -<p>“Three more rash neophytes who would dare -the wrath of the honorable Stuck-Up Society,” -announced Kipper in a sepulchral voice, and -with a deep salaam he stepped back and left the -three candidates together in the middle of the -lighted space. Blackie could feel everyone’s eyes -upon him, and he had a tingling, shaky feeling -somewhere inside; but he resolved that not one -of them should think for a minute that he was -afraid.</p> -<p>The Grand Mogul upon his throne said nothing, -but surveyed the three boys before him with -tantalizing deliberateness. Finally he spoke.</p> -<p>“You have signified your desire to enroll your -unworthy names upon the laurel-crowned roster -of the honorable Stuck-Up Society. In order to -win to the gates of Glory you must first slay the -Dragon of Selfishness, defeat the Giant of Fear -and arm yourselves with the Helmet of Knowledge, -the Spear of Courage, and the Sword of -Justice. Are you ready to make the trial?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_76">76</div> -<p>He looked at Peanut at the end of the line, -and the boy quavered, “Y-Y-Yes.”</p> -<p>“<i>Sir!</i>” roared the entire group within the -lodge, bellowing with all their might and beating -their clubs upon the resounding floor.</p> -<p>“Y-Y-Yes, sir,” said Peanut, more frightened -than ever.</p> -<p>“What is your name?” asked the inquisitor.</p> -<p>“P-P-Peanut, sir.”</p> -<p>“You have a most suspicious bulge in your -trousers. Please remove the padding, Master -Seneschal.”</p> -<p>A boy stepped forth and removed the pillow -that Peanut had placed where he thought it -would do the most good, while the circle of -campers roared with laughter at his predicament.</p> -<p>“Let’s see how smart you are, Peanut,” commanded -the Grand Mogul. “Spell your name -with a sneeze and a hiccough.”</p> -<p>Peanut looked bewildered. Blackie nudged -him and whispered, loud enough for everybody -to hear, “Go ahead, kid—he won’t hurt you. -He’s only Sax McNulty dressed up a little.”</p> -<p>The crowd gasped, horrified at such unheard-of -impudence from a candidate.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_77">77</div> -<p>“One bell!” said the Mogul solemnly, looking -gravely at the offender. Off at one side, a -dishpan struck with a drumstick resounded once -with a hollow clang. “Now—go on, Peanut.”</p> -<p>Taking courage, the smaller boy began: -“P—achoo!—E—hup!—A—choo!—N——”</p> -<p>“That will do. Now get down on the floor and -scramble like an egg.”</p> -<p>Peanut gave the best imitation of an egg in -the process of being scrambled that he could -muster. When he had finished, Sax ordered him -to rise, and spoke again.</p> -<p>“Neophyte Peanut, you must learn that the -spirit of Lenape is found in sacrifice and self-denial. -Through secret channels I am informed -that your greatest weakness is wasting the time -of your leaders with foolish questions. To -remind you that it is better for a camper to discover -things for himself, I command you not to -ask a single question of anybody all day to-morrow; -if any member of the society hears you -ask a question, he will be entitled to hot-hand you -once. Now, you tall, gangling, skinny drink of -water on the other end,” he continued, turning -toward Slim Yerkes, “what have you got to say -for yourself?”</p> -<p>“Nothing, sir,” said Slim quietly.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_78">78</div> -<p>“That’s just the trouble with you. You’re -always so quiet that nobody ever knows you’re -around. I’ll bet a dollar to a flash of lightning -that you’ve got lots of talent but are afraid to -let anybody know it. Camp is the place where a -boy learns to step out of the background and -show what he can do. You’re here to-night to -help amuse the Stuck-Ups. Let’s see—can you -sing?”</p> -<p>“No, sir.”</p> -<p>“There you go—I’m sure you’re a mighty fine -singer if only you had a little confidence. Now -clear your throat, sound off, and sing in a bold -voice ‘How Dry I Am,’ starting from the end -and working forwards.”</p> -<p>“Am I dry how——” Slim croaked feebly. -The campers set up a groan, but the Grand -Mogul pretended to be immensely pleased at the -thin lad’s singing ability.</p> -<p>“That’s not so terrible. Now, just to make -you get out of your shell, I order you to put on a -free show to-morrow for anybody that asks you. -Just pretend you’re a whole circus side-show, and -when they ask you, give imitations of the Fat -Lady, the India-Rubber Man, JoJo the Dog-Faced -Boy, the Snake Charmer, or anything -else they happen to think up. Now, next case -for the executioner!” He transferred his attention -to Blackie Thorne.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_79">79</div> -<p>“All right,” said Blackie insolently, deliberately -leaving off the title of respect. “What -are you going to do to me?”</p> -<p>“<i>Sir!</i>” roared the assembled Stuck-Ups.</p> -<p>“Two bells! Three bells and the foolhardy -neophyte hangs on the red cedar at midnight!” -intoned Sax McNulty. The dishpan gong resounded -with two slow strokes. “You have -twice dared the wrath of the Stuck-Up Society. -What excuse have you to offer, you in the middle? -What’s your name?”</p> -<p>Blackie resolved that he would not be daunted -by the rigmarole of the initiation as his two -companions had been, and answered as impudently -as he could, “Aw, I go by the name of -Saxophone McNulty.”</p> -<p>The listeners broke into a pandemonium of -hooting and roaring, almost drowning out the -booming of the gong sounding three bells. For -the first time the Grand Mogul’s tone became -deadly serious, and when he could make himself -heard he addressed Blackie with measured calm.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_80">80</div> -<p>“Though the Stuck-Up Society has assembled -here to-night in a spirit of fun, the unwritten -code of good-fellowship should govern our every -action as much now as at any other time. You, -Thorne, have deliberately disregarded that code. -Besides being an obvious falsehood, your answer -showed a silly wilfulness. In the few days you -have been at Lenape you have shown yourself to -be a ‘fresh guy’ and a bully to those who are -weaker than yourself; you have shown a lack of -self-control and a selfish forgetfulness of the -other fellow. You get lots of fun out of playing -jokes on somebody else, but as soon as they play -a trick on you, you get sore and go off by yourself -and sulk. Am I right?”</p> -<p>“I guess so, sir.” Blackie hung his head; he -hated to be talked to this way in front of all the -other campers.</p> -<p>“Don’t forget, Blackie,” went on the leader, -“that the difficult things in the world are the -ones worth fighting for. It’s easy to be fresh, -to be a bully, to lose your temper, to stir up mischief; -but the worth-while things are gentlemanliness -and self-control. Everybody here will help -you all they can, but only you yourself can fight -the fight to make yourself a good Lenape camper. -When you have won that fight and proved that -you possess the spirit of sportsmanship and team-play, -you can have another chance to join the -honorable ranks of the Stuck-Up Society. The -initiation ceremonies will now proceed without -you. Go to your tent!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_81">81</div> -<h2 id="c8">CHAPTER VIII -<br /><span class="small">THE SNIPE HUNT</span></h2> -<p>“Last night about dusk, when I was walking -by the marsh down where the creek -empties into the lake, I was surprised to discover -a large flock of snipe. Now, hunting this wary -game-bird is one of the sports that Camp Lenape -is famous for; and since in my opinion we -couldn’t have better weather for it, I suggested -to the Chief that we have a hunt this very night.”</p> -<p>Mr. Carrigan, leader of Tent Nine and camp -naturalist, was making a report after supper the -next day; and judging from the cheer that went -up at his words, the sport he spoke of was one of -the greatest attractions that camp life could offer. -Blackie Thorne, sobered by his humiliating -experience in the Throne Room of the Stuck-Up -Society the previous night, listened with both ears -as the councilor continued his announcement.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_82">82</div> -<p>“I do not need to explain to campers who have -spent a season at Lenape that it is exceedingly -difficult to capture the elusive snipe. It requires -great care and skill to catch them, and since it -would be impossible for all of us to go after them, -it has become the custom for the old campers, -who have all bagged their birds, to give first -chance to the new boys and to act as ‘beaters’ -and scare up the game for them. They will take -care of the inexperienced hunters, see that they -are placed in a good position along a well-known -snipe ‘run,’ and do all they can to drive the birds -their way.</p> -<p>“Now, since many of the new boys will not -know about the habits and method of catching -this most famous of all game-birds, it will be -best to explain a few details. There are several -varieties of snipe. The variety that is usually -found on the Lenape campus is the ‘coo’ snipe, -which may always be recognized by the fact that -its eggs are not round but cube-shaped. Another -variety, the ‘fan-tail’ snipe, is found a few miles -north of here, near Camp Shawnee, our rivals on -Iron Lake. The snipe is a bird with long legs -and long bill, and the meat is very succulent, -tasting like a cross between turkey and lemon pie. -Ellick, our genial chef, is well-known for his -ability to fry snipe in the most toothsome way, -and has furthermore, out of his love for the sport, -offered a prize of one watermelon from the camp -ice-box to the first camper who brings in his -snipe.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_83">83</div> -<p>Cheers followed, for Ellick, for Mr. Carrigan, -and for the watermelon.</p> -<p>“The best method of catching this cunning -bird,” continued the leader when the noise had -died down again, “is by means of the bag and -lantern. Each hunter should provide himself -with a burlap bag—or a pillow-case will do—and -a lantern of some sort. When one of the beaters -posts him along a snipe ‘run,’ as we call the trails -which the birds make along the ground through -the bushes on their way down to the lake for a -drink, the hunter should prop the mouth of the -bag open with sticks, place a small pyramid of -rocks in front of it, and station himself behind -the bag with his lantern. He then at intervals -gives the snipe mating-call, like this—<i>coo-coo-coo!</i>—in -a soft and liquid voice. The snipe, -aroused and startled by the approach of the beaters -through the bushes, flies into the air in alarm. -Hearing the mating-call and mistaking the pile of -rocks for its nest, it flies toward the open bag, -and dazzled by the light in its eyes, blunders right -into the bag. Then all the hunter has to do is -to grab the top of the bag quickly, and the bird -is imprisoned alive and brought back to camp. -Remember—the first one to catch his bird wins -the watermelon!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div> -<p>He sat down amidst a tornado of cheering. -During the uproar Wally managed to make himself -heard at the Tent Four table.</p> -<p>“With four hunters in our bunch,” he said, -“we ought to have enough snipe to-morrow to -make a full meal for the whole table. Soon as -we’re dismissed, you fellows hop around and see -if Ellick hasn’t got some old bags you can borrow. -Don’t let anybody else get ahead of you -if you can help it—it wouldn’t be a bad idea to -have some watermelon to eat along with that -fried snipe!”</p> -<p>As soon as the whistle sounded, Blackie joined -the torrent of boys that poured out into the -kitchen to besiege Ellick for bags, boxes—anything -in which a bird might be trapped. The chef -looked about genially, finding something for most -of them, smiling and assuring them that the prize -offer was true, showing them the big green watermelon -that would fall to the lucky Nimrod. -Blackie was fortunate enough to find an empty -potato-sack, and after providing himself with the -powerful flash-lantern he had brought to camp, -was ready to put himself in the hands of the experienced -beaters, who would show him the correct -place to post himself.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_85">85</div> -<p>To his surprise, Sax McNulty, the councilor -who had served the previous night as Grand -Mogul and who had ordered Blackie’s ejection -from the Throne Room, singled him out. The -gloomy-faced comedian nodded somberly.</p> -<p>“Hello, Thorne! Going to redeem yourself -and make the camp forget last night by being the -first to get your snipe?”</p> -<p>“I don’t know about that,” said Blackie, “but -I sure am going to try. Say, Sax!”</p> -<p>“What?”</p> -<p>“I—I’m sorry I was so fresh last night. I -won’t forget what you said about being a good -sport. And I didn’t mean to act the way I did.”</p> -<p>“Oh, that’s all right. You didn’t hurt my -feelings any. Just to show you we’re good -friends, I’m going to take you to the best place -on the campus for snipe. I know where there’s -a ‘run’ where as many snipe have been caught -as in all the other places within six miles. I’ll -be your beater. Got your outfit? Good. Trot -along!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_86">86</div> -<p>He led the way at a rapid pace and Blackie -followed, lugging his bag and lantern. They cut -straight through the woods away from the lake; -in places it was already so dark that the boy -switched on his light to see the way. McNulty -made so many turns and twists that it was not -long before Blackie lost all sense of direction. -At last, much to the boy’s satisfaction, the leader -announced that they had reached the place. He -helped Blackie rig up the sack with the mouth -propped and held open by sticks, and arranged a -pile of stones in front.</p> -<p>“In my experience,” said McNulty, “I think -Mr. Carrigan is wrong about the mating-call. It -really sounds more like <i>kuk-kuk-kuk</i> than <i>coo-coo</i>.” -He made the boy practise the call over and -over until he was satisfied.</p> -<p>“Now,” he said, “you just wait here until I -beat a few down your way.”</p> -<p>He departed stealthily through the undergrowth, -and Blackie crouched waiting behind his -glaring lamp. For ten or fifteen minutes he heard -nothing but the sweet whistles of the whippoorwill -and the timid twilight noises of the woods. -Then from the front came a series of halloos and -the crackling of a body passing through the -brush. McNulty’s voice was raised in the -beater’s call, advancing swiftly toward him. The -boy clucked as he had been told. There was a -whirr like that of wings, and a flashing shadow -in the bright beam of the light. Blackie fell forward -on his bag, sure that some wild thing was -struggling among its folds.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_87">87</div> -<p>“Get any?” asked McNulty, rushing up with -a long stick in his hand. “Here—let me take a -look—careful now! Don’t let him out, whatever -you do! Easy—I’ll hold it, and you reach down -and pull him out. Don’t be scared—they just -peck you a little bit.”</p> -<p>Gingerly, and not at all sure that he would -like to be pecked by a sharp bill even a little bit, -Blackie put his arm in the bag and felt about. -His fingers closed on something, and hastily he -jerked it forth. Instead of a struggling mass of -feathers, his hand held only a bunch of tangled -grass and twigs.</p> -<p>Sax McNulty snorted in disgust. “Thought -you had a snipe! Huh! Here I drove a whole -covey of them right at you! Didn’t you see -them?”</p> -<p>“Yes, I thought I saw one fly right into the -bag! How did this get here?”</p> -<p>“You ought to know. Well, guess I’ll have -to go through it all again—and it’s no fun beating -these bushes. I’m all scratched up already. If -you don’t have better luck this time, we’ll have to -go somewhere else. I’ll have to go almost to the -top of the mountain as it is—I’ve already covered -the ground near here.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_88">88</div> -<p>He moved away and disappeared into the July -night. Blackie settled himself for a long wait.</p> -<p>It was lonely there in the woods. He thought -over one by one every incident that had happened -since he had landed in camp. Already four days -of his slender two weeks at Lenape had passed; -only ten days more and he would have to return -to the hot city, far from the exciting adventures -of forest and lake and lodge.</p> -<p>It seemed to him that hours had passed since -Sax had left him. He listened with all his might -to try and pick up the leader’s shouting off in the -silent woods. Mosquitoes, attracted by the light, -swarmed about him and made him miserable with -their tormenting hum; he slapped at them, but -still they came to sting his neck and wrists and -ankles. He would have turned off the light, but -knew that if he did so he would miss his chance -of bringing in any snipe; and he was determined -not to return to camp without at least one bird. -By this time many of the new boys should have -captured their prey; and he could not think of -returning empty-handed. Why didn’t McNulty -return?</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_89">89</div> -<p>Gradually it dawned upon him that the leader -would not return, that he had not intended to return. -It must all be a joke! Just another of -those innumerable hoaxes which camp custom -had decreed should be played upon all tenderfoot -campers during the first days of their first season -under canvas. It must be just a conspiracy -among the experienced campers and leaders to -decoy the credulous greenhorns out into the -woods alone under the pretext of a hunt for -snipe. With a bag and lantern! The whole story -seemed so impossible to him that he wondered -how he could have been taken in by it. Sitting -behind a pile of stones and a gaping potato-sack, -cooing and waiting for birds to fly his way! McNulty -must have bundled up grass and twigs into -a ball and thrown it into the bag when he had -approached on the pretense of “beating” the -birds toward the light. And how he and the rest -of the knowing ones would laugh at Blackie when -he returned to camp, shamefaced and abashed -at having been hoodwinked by such a ridiculous -flimflam! Snipe that laid cube-shaped eggs!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_90">90</div> -<p>The thing must be faced like a good sport, -however. If he hurried back to camp, he might -still arrive in time to watch some of the other -victims come in, and thus have the laugh on -them——He suddenly realized that he was not -sure which was the way back to camp. He had depended -on the guidance of McNulty, and did not -have the least idea where he was, or how far away -the tents might be. Well, he would have to explore -a bit, pioneer the way home for himself.</p> -<p>Carrying his flash-lamp hooked on his belt, he -beat his way through the scrub carefully, on the -lookout for snakes and other dangerous dwellers -in the forest. He blundered across a narrow ravine, -pushed his way through a clump of laurels, -and climbed a stone fence. The light showed on -the rutted tracks of a lane that wandered through -the trees—a lane that seemed somehow familiar. -Sure enough! It was the road that led to the -gloomy house of Rattlesnake Joe, the hermit; -it was the trail he and the others had followed -only two nights before!</p> -<p>He knew his way now. The stars were out, -and a half-moon was tilted among the tree-tops. -He snapped off his lamp, so that it would not -draw too many mosquitoes, and found he could -follow the lane well enough by moonlight. Taking -the direction that led away from the hermit’s -dwelling and toward the campus, he trudged -along by himself, almost laughing to think how -easily the snipe-trick had worked. It was a good -joke; and next year, if he came to camp, he could -have the fun of taking some scary tenderfoot out -into the woods and planting him there for the -evening, to coo and wait for snipe that would not -come.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_91">91</div> -<p>Only about five minutes passed before he was -aware that someone was coming toward him up -the road; he could hear the low mumble of voices -only a few hundred yards in front. Could one -of them be McNulty, alarmed because Blackie -had not yet turned up in camp, and coming to -seek him and break the news? If so, he was due -for a little scare; the jester would himself be the -butt of a jest. Blackie planted himself behind -a thick oak trunk, ready to jump out with a shout -and throw the bag over the leader’s head and give -him the fright of his life.</p> -<p>The voices came nearer; one of them harsh and -bullying, the other sounding strangely weak and -pleading. Blackie pondered. Neither of them -could be McNulty. They must be strangers, -even men who, finding him alone, might do him -harm. He resolved to keep quiet and let them -pass without noticing him. Inwardly congratulating -himself for turning off his light, he concealed -himself as best he could behind the friendly -oak. The voices grew louder; they were rough, -uncouth, and profane.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_92">92</div> -<p>Two slouching figures emerged from the dark, -and stopped right beside the tree Blackie had -chosen. He could have reached out his arm and -touched them both. There was a scratching -sound as a match was drawn across a rock; a red -flicker burst forth and revealed two faces bent -to light cigarettes. The face of the taller man -was seamed and dirty, and the unshaven jowls -were covered with gray stubble. A green patch -hung over one eye, giving him a peculiar and -sinister look. The other man was younger, with -a slack mouth and watery eyes, and a vacant face -that showed he had little or no will of his own. -Both were garbed in loose, patched garments -streaked with mud and torn in places.</p> -<p>“Tramps!” thought Blackie. “Gee, they sure -look hard-boiled! If they ever find me -here——” He crouched behind his shelter, fearing -that they had seen him already.</p> -<p>“Aw, what ya want to be yeller for?” the -older man was growling. “I tell ya it’s a sure -thing! He lives all alone up there—I heard all -about him down in Elmville. The hermit, they -call him around here, and everybody knows he’s -got a silver mine somewheres in the mountains -that he won’t tell about! Every once in a while -he sneaks off and digs up some silver and buries -it under the stones of his fireplace!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_93">93</div> -<p>“Are ya sure, Reno?” asked the other, in snivelling -tones.</p> -<p>“’Course I’m sure! I seen him myself the -other night, diggin’ up the stones at the fireplace -and takin’ somethin’ out that looked like a bar -of silver. There ya stand moanin’ like a sick -chicken, and all we have to do to get rich is just -walk in and tie him up and take the silver!”</p> -<p>“We might be seen!” The younger man’s -terror was increasing every minute. “And he’s -got dogs, too.”</p> -<p>“Blast the dogs! They’re all chained up anyway.”</p> -<p>“But how about them kids?”</p> -<p>“Aw, they’re all in bed by now. If you’d seen -that bar of silver like I saw, you’d pull yer -freight and get the job done.”</p> -<p>Blackie wanted to cry out and tell them that -the hermit was poor, that he had no money or -treasure at all, that the man must have seen him -looking at his precious thunderbolt which he kept -under the hearthstone. But his mouth was so -dry with terror that he could not make a sound. -He leaned against the tree for support, and the -lantern on his belt clinked against the rough -bark.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_94">94</div> -<p>“What’s that?” The weak-chinned man -jumped nervously about.</p> -<p>“Aw, yer jumpy as a cat to-night! ’Fraid of -the dark, ain’t ya, Lew?”</p> -<p>“I thought I heard somebody in the bushes.”</p> -<p>“Not likely. If I thought there was, I’d pull -out his windpipe. There ain’t nothin’ to be scared -of. Now, will ya come, or will I have to do the -job meself?”</p> -<p>“I—I’ll come, Reno.”</p> -<p>The two men moved off in the direction of the -hermit’s house. Some minutes passed before -Blackie dared to relax his body from the stiffened -position his fright had put him into. Reason -told him to get away from the spot before he was -discovered and would have to face the wrath of -the two tramps alone; but curiosity and an uncanny -fascination seemed to draw him to the -house whose grim face had somehow haunted him -since first he had arrived at Lenape. With lagging -steps, he followed down the lane toward the -fateful, tumbledown dwelling.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_95">95</div> -<p>As he drew near the door, his terror increased. -The hounds were making a dismal racket in their -kennel, rattling their chains fiercely. One small, -dusty window on the ground floor showed red -with firelight; the rest of the house was dark. -Drawn and yet repelled by what might be going -on behind the weather-beaten walls, he dared the -chance of one of the dogs escaping and attacking -him, crept to the door, and listened.</p> -<p>The sound of voices raised in anger came to -him, a bedlam hubbub of words. He thought he -could distinguish the peculiar, slouchy dialect of -Rattlesnake Joe above the others.</p> -<p>“Ye’re crazed, ye devils! I’ll have the law -onto ye!”</p> -<p>“Will ya tell us where yer silver mine is located?”</p> -<p>“No! I won’t tell ye a tarnal thing——”</p> -<p>There was the clatter of a chair overturned on -the board floor. A piercing, terrifying scream, -hoarse and horrid, came once and broke off. A -heavy body slipped noisily to the floor. Afterward -endured a hushed, strained silence, during -which Blackie heard with distinctness the beating -of his own pulse and the hollow ticking of a clock -beyond the door.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_96">96</div> -<p>The wind was rising; a gust swept over the -roof of the somber house, rattling the loose -shingles and stirring the tops of the pines. Its -coming brought panic to Blackie Thorne. He -turned and, with eyes starting with horror, fled -away into the dark with the ghastly memory of -that hoarse, despairing scream still ringing in his -ears.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_97">97</div> -<h2 id="c9">CHAPTER IX -<br /><span class="small">A RAINY DAY</span></h2> -<p>Blackie did not mention to a single soul -what he had seen and heard at the hermit’s -house the night of the snipe hunt. He wanted -nothing more than to forget the terror which had -gripped him by the throat as he stood outside -the door of the house in the woods. Indeed, when -the crystal clear morning came and the busy -camp routine began, it was hard to believe that he -had witnessed any dark deed the night before.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_98">98</div> -<p>As the days passed, he almost forgot he had -ever overheard the two tramps planning robbery -and violence upon a harmless old man. The glorious -Fourth of July came and went, leaving only -burnt fingers and a powder-blackened litter of -colored papers on the baseball field as souvenirs -of the sparkling and explosive celebration. -Wally continued his lessons in the Australian -crawl, and also taught the Tent Four group -many things about the art of diving. Camp Lenape -held a field meet, and Blackie was awarded -three ribbons of various colors as trophies of his -prowess in running and jumping. Tent Four -wiped out its bad record by winning inspection -three times in succession. On Friday night each -tent group put on an impromptu show or stunt, -ranging from a vaudeville act with a trick horse -(front part, Gil Shelton; hind legs, Spaghetti -Megaro) to an uproarious imitation of a tent -full of sleepy-heads turning out for Reveille. -Blackie and Gallegher spent much of their time -studying to pass their requirements for the honor -emblem, and at the Indian council on Monday -night they both were summoned before the -Chief’s seat and proudly received the coveted -badge.</p> -<p>Blackie was awake twenty minutes before First -Call on Tuesday morning, and passed the time -stitching the swastika emblem on the front of his -jersey. The sky was dull and leaden; for the -first time since he had come to camp there was a -smell of rain in the air. When the campers were -returning up the hill after the Indian dip the -storm broke, bucketing down in torrents; the boys -went up to breakfast in raincoats and ponchos, -and stood assembled for flag-raising on the long -porch of the lodge.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_99">99</div> -<p>“I was going out with the pioneers to help -build a signal-tower this morning,” Blackie -grumbled over his oatmeal at breakfast, “and -here it’s got to go and rain. Gee, what rotten -luck!”</p> -<p>“Why worry?” asked Ken Haviland; “Rain -doesn’t spoil anything here at Lenape. Last year -we had so much fun on rainy days that I’ve been -wishing for a wet day soon. We’ll have a good -time to-day, and don’t forget it.”</p> -<p>“What will happen?”</p> -<p>“Oh, lots of things. Everybody stays here in -the lodge, and we have boxing and wrestling -matches, indoor track meets, or signalling contests. -Maybe some of the leaders will tell stories. -Rainy days are good times to practise for the -big show that comes at the end of every section, -or to get the dope on map-making, life-saving -drill, forestry and merit badges. Some fellows -can work in the carpenter shop on handicraft. I -remember one wet day last year we had a big -mud-marathon around the lodge. Everybody -put on old clothes and went through a big obstacle -race; we almost laughed ourselves sick.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_100">100</div> -<p>Haviland’s prophecy was correct; the program -for the day was more active and strenuous than -for a day of sunshine. The campers put the -lodge in order, cleared away a big space in the -center, and brought in a tall heap of firewood -for the cheerful blaze that was crackling in the -stone fireplace. Wally Rawn, who as officer of -the day was supervising the program, caught -Blackie by the arm as he was helping to lay down -some large, padded wrestling mats.</p> -<p>“Blackie, will you go in to the Chief’s office -and get the O. D. report blank for me?”</p> -<p>“You bet, Wally!”</p> -<p>Blackie skipped over to a far corner of the -lodge, where the Chief had a small room fitted -with a desk and cabinet to hold the camp letters -and records. The door was slightly ajar, and two -voices sounded beyond. The Chief had a visitor. -Blackie paused at the door, hesitating to intrude -upon the conversation.</p> -<p>“Just stopped on my way from Elmville,” -came the heavy voice of the visitor. “Couldn’t -find out anything about the matter there, and as -I was riding back over the mountains I thought -I might as well stop on the chance that you might -know something about it.”</p> -<p>“Mr. Lane, who brings in our provisions, told -me what he’d heard in town,” answered the Chief. -“That’s all I know. Wednesday night it happened, -wasn’t it?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_101">101</div> -<p>“That’s what the coroner thinks. The body -wasn’t found till Friday—nobody goes up there, -you know, and the old man lived alone. It was -just by luck that one of the neighbors stopped -in to see him, and found the body.”</p> -<p>“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Sheriff. It’s a -terrible thing to have such a murder so near -camp. And the old hermit wouldn’t have hurt a -fly.”</p> -<p>Sheriff! Murder! Blackie clutched the doorpost -and almost fell over at the words. The -hermit!</p> -<p>“Well,” said the sheriff, scraping back his -chair as he rose, “if you do hear anything, I live -over by Newmiln Center. You can send word -to me there. It’s a puzzle, sure enough. As -brutal a thing as I ever heard of in all my experience; -if it was robbers that did it, they surely -didn’t find anything.”</p> -<p>“I hope you catch them,” said the Chief fervently. -“And I’m sorry I can’t give you any -clue. Good day!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_102">102</div> -<p>Blackie just had time to collect his thoughts -and run away from the door before he might be -discovered listening. He dashed off and joined -the group about the wrestling-mats, covertly -watching the man who came out of the office. -The sheriff was a heavy-set, black-mustached man -in spurred and muddied riding-boots and glistening -slicker. He stamped across to the back door -and, while Blackie watched at a window, mounted -a waiting horse and cantered off down the muddy -road through the downpour.</p> -<p>The watching boy heaved a sigh of relief; he -had escaped being caught and questioned. The -two tramps must have tried to force the hermit -to tell what he knew. The old man, of course, -possessed neither a treasure nor the secret of a -silver mine, and in the struggle he had somehow -been—killed. Murder! What an ugly-sounding -word it was! Blackie shivered. He wanted to -forget; but he knew that never in this world -would he lose the memory of that sullen, threatening -house and the racking scream that had issued -from it on that fatal Wednesday night.</p> -<p>He looked about him. The rainy-morning program -in the lodge was already in full swing. In -front of the fireplace Lieutenant Eames had -roped off a square space and was giving boxing -instruction to an interested group. Two older -boys, their fists hidden in bulging padded -gloves, were clumsily sparring together under a -rapid stream of cautions and advice from the lieutenant -and a perfect hail of cheers and urgings -from the howling bunch of spectators.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_103">103</div> -<p>“Put your body behind it!” counseled the -West Pointer. “Place your blows where they’ll -do the most good—don’t thrash around wildly. -There—not bad! Don’t run away, Pete; stand -up to him and defend yourself with the gloves. -Whoa!” The two boys, smarting under a few -well-placed blows, were mixing it in earnest, their -fists whirling rapidly but with little damaging -effect. “That’s enough—you can’t fight best -when you lose your tempers. Now, who’s next?”</p> -<p>“Match me with somebody!” urged Chink -Towner. “It’s my turn now, Lieutenant!”</p> -<p>“Whom do you want to take on, Chink?”</p> -<p>The onlookers chorused a suggestion. -“Blackie! Blackie Thorne! Here he is now! -Take him on, Chink!”</p> -<p>“How about it, Blackie?” asked the lieutenant. -“Want to try a round or two with -Chink?”</p> -<p>Blackie’s scare was still too close to him to -want to think about anything else, but he resolved -not to display the white feather before the group. -He could not refuse. “Aw, sure, I’m not afraid -of him. Give me the gloves!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_104">104</div> -<p>Jerry Utway volunteered to serve as his second, -and jumped to help him. Jake Utway, not -to be outdone by his twin brother, took Chink’s -corner and laced on his gloves. The news of the -bout spread around the lodge from group to -group, until quite a number of campers crowded -about the ring. Ellick, the chef, drifted in from -the kitchen, and agreed to judge the contest. -Tent Three rallied to support Chink, their champion, -and the Tent Four boys patted Blackie on -the back and whispered words of advice or encouragement.</p> -<p>Wally Rawn came over while Blackie was -stripping to shorts and tennis shoes. “You -shouldn’t be matched with Towner,” he said. -“He’s got a longer reach than you have, and -knows more about boxing than you do.”</p> -<p>“I can’t back out now. I’m not scared of -him anyway,” Blackie muttered, but his heart was -racing and he had a chilly feeling in the pit of his -stomach.</p> -<p>“Well, remember to keep your guard up all -the time, and don’t lose your head. Another -thing—don’t set your body stiff until you’re -ready to hit; if you’re relaxed a blow doesn’t hurt -so much. But don’t let him take you off balance, -or you’ll find yourself chewing the floor.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_105">105</div> -<p>Bewildered by the shouting and the hasty advice, -Blackie found himself in the center of the -ring. The lieutenant was introducing the contenders.</p> -<p>“In this corner, Battling Towner, the Chinese -challenger; to my right, Kid Blackie, the Bloodthirsty -Bantam. Shake hands, gentlemen! First -round—time!”</p> -<p>The two boys closed in upon each other warily, -exchanged a few watchful feints and passes. -Chink led with his left; Blackie sprang out of the -way, and swung harmlessly at the air.</p> -<p>“Get into him, Thorne!” squealed Jerry -Utway. “This ain’t a pillow-fight! Hit him!”</p> -<p>Chink feinted with his left and aimed a blow -with his right that caught Blackie on the arm, -whirling him half around. He caught his balance, -leaped forward, and closed in a clinch so -tight that neither boy got in any blows before -they were separated. They parted; there followed -a few seconds of brisk sparring; then Chink, with -lightning footwork, dodged under Blackie’s -guard and planted a thudding glove upon his -face. Blackie was knocked backwards; he shut -his eyes and crouched with his gloves over his -face and his arms tight to his chest. The spectators -shouted, cheering for Chink.</p> -<p>“First blood for the Chinese lightweight!”</p> -<p>“Yay, Tent Three!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_106">106</div> -<p>“Get into him, Blackie!”</p> -<p>Blackie set his teeth. The blow had stunned -him for a minute, but it had the effect of making -him forget the crowd, forget everything but the -crouched figure of the boy before him—his antagonist. -The faces of the watchers and the referee -seemed to show through an unreal haze. He -struck out at Towner, and landed on his body; -but Chink retaliated with another crushing blow -upon the nose. A numb feeling settled upon -Blackie’s senses; his limbs seemed to be yards -long, the gloves to weigh tons. What was he -doing out here in front of the crowd, jumping -around breathlessly and being struck again and -again? Even Chink’s face came to him half hidden -by a dreamy mist. He fought and fought, -yet Chink never seemed to be touched; he darted -about, apparently placing his fists where he -pleased.</p> -<p>A gong sounded; hands reached out and pulled -Blackie to his chair. He felt a splash of cold -water on his face; Jerry Utway was rubbing his -arms with a towel. “Round one—won by Mistah -Chink!” came Ellick’s voice.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_107">107</div> -<p>Again Blackie was aware that the gong had -sounded, and once more he was facing Towner. -The other boy was breathing heavily, but was apparently -as light on his feet and as ready with his -hands as ever.</p> -<p>“After him, Blackie—the best defense is an attack!” -It was Wally’s voice, coming coolly to -him from beyond the ring. Blackie caught his -breath and plunged with whirling arms after the -shadowy form of his opponent. Chink closed in -for an exchange of body blows and another clinch, -in which Blackie got the worst end of it. Towner -was depending mostly upon blows to the face, -concentrating all his attack upon the nose and -mouth, placing shrewd hits on these places one -after another. Blackie had the feeling that he -was fighting against a ghostly figure, an antagonist -as elusive and intangible as smoke. He -began hitting out blindly, thoughtlessly, raging -and hating Towner with all his might. A red -flag seemed to drop before his eyes, and he -charged with his fists hammering like pistons, -careless of the rain of blows that fell upon his unprotected -head. He was seeing red, running -wild, losing all his skill and direction in a mad, -senseless rush. Through the clamor of the crowd -came Wally’s low counsel again.</p> -<p>“Keep your head, Blackie! Self-control!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_108">108</div> -<p>The mist began to clear. He felt a jolting, -sharp blow on the chin, was aware that Chink was -off to one side and that in his blind charge he -was nowhere near his antagonist. He fell back, -protecting his face; then, suddenly, he whirled -and struck out with his right arm extended. His -glove seemed to plunge forward of its own accord -and land with a smack on Chink’s face. The -other boy fell back with an amazed look in his -eyes.</p> -<p>“Time! End of de bout—no decision!” cried -Ellick.</p> -<p>There were shouts of protest; the campers -wanted a fight to a finish. Ellick only shook his -head and nodded in the direction of Blackie’s corner. -Blackie saw his comrades staring at him -strangely.</p> -<p>“He tapped you one on the nose, all right,” -said Jerry, giving him a cup of water.</p> -<p>Blackie looked with surprise at his hand, still -encased in a leather glove. The casing was -stained with a few darkening crimson drops.</p> -<p>“What of it? I can still lick him! I’m just -getting started!”</p> -<p>Lieutenant Eames crossed over to them with -one arm on Chink’s shoulder.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_109">109</div> -<p>“Sure, you’re not whipped by a long sight, -Thorne,” he said. “But we can match up you -two again some other time. Now, you two boys -have been swatting each other all around the ring -enough to satisfy anybody. Another thing, -Blackie—I can see that you don’t know the first -thing about scientific self-defense, but you have -two things that are most essential to a good -boxer. You have good muscular control, and -you keep your wits about you all the time. If -you want to spend some time with me, I think -after a few lessons I can make a pretty fair boxer -out of you.”</p> -<p>“Say, will you, Lieutenant? I’d sure like -that!”</p> -<p>He relinquished his gloves to another boy, and -a third match began, while Wild Willie Sanders -and Soapy Mullins began a wrestling bout. The -group split up and drifted away, while Blackie -slipped into his clothes. His nose had stopped -bleeding, and he was feeling a glow of happiness -that came from the words of the boxing instructor. -He felt a hand on his shoulder, looked -up and saw Wally.</p> -<p>“Well, you took a beating to-day, all right!”</p> -<p>“Chink didn’t lick me,” frowned Blackie. -“They stopped us because he tapped me on the -nose.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_110">110</div> -<p>“He hammered you all over the ring; I said -you were no match for him. Chink Towner did -give you a beating; but I was watching another -fight at the same time.”</p> -<p>“Gee, you talk funny sometimes, Wally. -What fight do you mean?”</p> -<p>“You were fighting against your own self, -Blackie, when you were there in the ring. And -you won that fight. I saw you. For a minute -you got mad, lost your control; then you got hold -of yourself and began to use your head. It was -a good thing for you to go against a fighter better -than yourself; you learned to take your medicine -and keep your temper. And they’re both good -things for a young lad to know.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_111">111</div> -<h2 id="c10">CHAPTER X -<br /><span class="small">THE LIE</span></h2> -<p>“You put up a pretty good scrap,” grunted -Gallegher approvingly.</p> -<p>Blackie had donned his shirt and sweater after -the boxing bout. “Thanks, Irish,” he said.</p> -<p>“I’ve seen lots of tough fights, and I know -what I’m sayin’, see? Say, are you tired?”</p> -<p>“No, not very.”</p> -<p>“What do you say we take a little walk? I’m -sick of bein’ shut in this lodge all mornin’.”</p> -<p>Blackie looked out a window; the rain had -slackened, but still drizzled down with settled -persistence. “In the rain?”</p> -<p>“Sure—what’s a few drops matter? Put on -your raincoat and come along.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_112">112</div> -<p>The two boys slipped into their rainproof ponchos, -and then Gallegher led the way a short distance -through the wet woods behind camp. Here -he turned off and struck through the brush toward -the mountain, following a line of lead pipe -that ran from a spring above down to the lodge, -supplying fresh, cold water for the use of the -camp. A trail had been cut when the men had -laid the pipe, but it was overgrown and indistinct, -and it was easy to see that few campers ever -passed that way. After about a quarter of a mile -of trudging in silence through the dripping forest, -Gallegher turned off and floundered through -the undergrowth until he came to the thick trunk -of a fallen tree that lay rotting on the ground.</p> -<p>“Here we are,” he said. “Not so bad, eh? -I come here lots of times.”</p> -<p>“What for?” asked Blackie curiously.</p> -<p>“I’ll show you.” Gallegher stuck out his chin, -and winked meaningly. “Have a good time, -away from all the baby kids in camp. See what -I mean?”</p> -<p>He fished out a crumpled, gaudily-colored -package from his shirt, and held it out to Blackie. -Within were a few cheap cigarettes.</p> -<p>“Gee!” exclaimed Blackie, “cigarettes! -Where did you get them, Irish?”</p> -<p>“Aw, I always carry some. I like to get away -and have a little smoke by myself now and then. -Have one.”</p> -<p>“You’ve been smoking all the time we’ve been -up here? Say, don’t you know the Chief sends a -guy home right away if he’s caught smoking?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_113">113</div> -<p>“What of it? He has to catch us first, and -nobody ever comes here. Don’t chew the rag so -much; light up and be happy.” Gallegher -winked again.</p> -<p>“Naw—I’m in training for boxing practice -with the Lieutenant,” said Blackie uncomfortably. -“Smoking is bad for the wind, and I got -to have good lungs to be a good scrapper.”</p> -<p>“Aw, one won’t hurt you,” Gallegher jeered. -“Know what I think? I think you’re scared -you’ll get caught. You’re just yellow, like all -the rest of the babies at this camp.”</p> -<p>“I’m not scared. Here, give me one, Irish. -I’ll show you.”</p> -<p>Blackie seized one of the white cylinders and -hastily lighted the end. Gallegher lit another -and settled back on the fallen tree trunk, puffing -away expertly.</p> -<p>“Pretty soft, eh?”</p> -<p>“Not bad,” agreed Blackie, fumbling amateurishly -with the lighted cigarette. He coughed and -wiped away the tears that formed in his eyes as -the smoke blew into them. “Say, are you sure -nobody ever comes around here?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_114">114</div> -<p>“Sure they don’t—especially on a rainy day. -I’ve had a quiet little cig here lots of times. -Don’t get scared, kid—we’ll be safe. Besides, -now we both got the honor emblem, we can get -away with lots of stuff. If you wear one of these -things on your chest”—he indicated the green -swastika and the “L” upon his sweater—“you -can put over stuff that would be too raw for other -guys to get away with. I’ve been kind of layin’ -low lately, but believe me, there’s goin’ to be -some fun around this camp pretty soon, and I’m -goin’ to get back at the guys that kicked me out -of the Stuck-Up initiation. Are you with me, -Blackie? They did the same dirty trick to you.”</p> -<p>“Sure—sure I’m with you, Irish.”</p> -<p>“Have another fag, then.”</p> -<p>“No, one is enough for me.”</p> -<p>“Come on, have another. What are you afraid -of? We can eat a hunk of candy before we go -back to camp, and nobody will ever know a thing -about it.”</p> -<p>Blackie accepted another, but threw the stump -away before he had smoked much of it. He -didn’t like it, but the idea of sitting there hidden -in the woods doing a forbidden act that would be -heavily punished if it were known gave him a -devil-may-care, excited feeling.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_115">115</div> -<p>Later, after they had sneaked back to camp -for swim, he did not feel quite so dashing. The -secret act now appeared sordid. He felt uncomfortable -and guilty; he could not forget what he -had done, and went to bed that night with an -uneasy fear that he might be discovered any minute. -He dropped off to sleep assuring himself -that never again would he let Gallegher or anybody -else persuade him to break a camp rule and -do an unworthy, hole-in-the-corner deed.</p> -<p>He awoke some time later. A pocket flashlight -was shining in his face, and he blinked fearfully -for half a minute before he came to his senses. -Dimly he heard Wally whisper close to his ear.</p> -<p>“Get up and put on your bathrobe, Thorne. -I want you to come up to the lodge with me.”</p> -<p>“Wha—what for?”</p> -<p>“You’ll find out later.”</p> -<p>He could hear the heavy breathing of his tent-mates -about him as he struggled into his bathrobe; -but when he stepped outside the tent he was -surprised to find that all of them were not asleep. -Gallegher, also attired in his bathrobe, stood -waiting outside on the path with Wally, who had -not yet undressed for the night.</p> -<p>“What time is it, Wally?” asked Blackie.</p> -<p>“About ten-thirty. Now, keep quiet and don’t -wake up the rest of the fellows. Come along.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_116">116</div> -<p>The two boys followed him up to the lodge. -The rain had stopped, and a crisp, bracing wind -was blowing up from the lake. As they mounted -the steps leading to the lodge porch, they saw a -light still burning in the little office in one corner -of the building. The Chief had not gone to bed -yet, either. Wally opened the outer door, and -stepped inside to let them enter.</p> -<p>“This way, you two.”</p> -<p>The boys exchanged scared glances. There -was no time to do more. They stepped inside. -The Chief turned in his chair and bent a serious -look upon them.</p> -<p>“Sit down, Gallegher, Thorne. Come on in, -Mr. Rawn. Now, I have had your leader bring -you boys up here because I wanted to ask you -some questions.”</p> -<p>Gallegher slumped in his seat with a scowl. -Blackie shivered; he did not dare to face the -Chief, but looked away, fearing what was to -come.</p> -<p>“Mr. Rawn tells me,” continued the Chief in -an even tone, “that to-night at Taps, he noticed -that something fell out of Gallegher’s pocket as -he was undressing. He brought this object to -me. Here it is.”</p> -<p>Blackie stole a glance at the man’s outstretched -hand. It was as he feared. The Chief was holding -a crumpled paper package of cigarettes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_117">117</div> -<p>“I asked him to bring Gallegher to me right -away. He was seen going into the woods this -morning, and as Thorne was with him, I asked -that both of you be brought up to talk with me. -The directors of Camp Lenape, knowing that -smoking is injurious to the health of growing -boys, have a rule that any boy who smokes while -at camp will be sent home in disgrace at once. -Have you both heard that rule?”</p> -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> -<p>“Yes, Chief.”</p> -<p>“I am going to ask each of you a question, and -you are on your honor to answer it truthfully. -Gallegher, have you smoked cigarettes while at -Camp Lenape?”</p> -<p>There was a moment of silence. Gallegher bit -his lip and considered. He was caught with the -goods. He shrugged and mumbled, “Yes, sir.”</p> -<p>Blackie felt the Chief’s eyes upon him. -“Thorne, have you been smoking at camp, -too?”</p> -<p>He must not be sent home! Blackie shifted in -his chair and tried to think. Sent home in disgrace, -away from all the wonderful times at -camp; sent back to town, to face his mother’s disappointed -eyes, to be in the city and know that -he had missed the big camp show, the boat regatta, -the swimming meet—— The Chief and -Wally couldn’t be sure—Gallegher wouldn’t give -him away——</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_118">118</div> -<p>“Answer me, Blackie.”</p> -<p>There was only one way out. “N-No, Chief.”</p> -<p>He had done it! He had lied; deliberately he -had told an untruth to save his own skin. He -was glad the Chief was not looking at him any -more, but had turned his attention to Gallegher. -Blackie stared at the floor.</p> -<p>“Gallegher, I’m glad you haven’t made it any -worse by lying about your act,” the director was -saying. “Now, because you’ve owned up to it -like a man, and because I know that you have -lived in a bad neighborhood back in town and -might in that way have picked up some wrong -ideas about things, I’m going to give you a choice -that may permit you to stay on here at camp. -You can either leave camp to-morrow, or stay -here and chop wood for the kitchen three hours a -day. You’ll lose your honor emblem, of course. -Which is it—stay or leave?”</p> -<p>Gallegher turned away, so that the Chief could -not see his face. “I’ll stay and chop wood,” he -muttered with a catch in his voice. “And—thanks, -Chief.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_119">119</div> -<p>“I’m glad you took that choice, Gallegher. -Camp has done a lot for you, and I’d hate to lose -you now. Mr. Rawn, you may all go back to -your tent now. Good-night!”</p> -<p>Wally nodded briefly, and the three left the -lighted office. Not a word was spoken; they -walked slowly and thoughtfully back to Tent -Four, and turned in silently.</p> -<p>Between his blankets, Blackie drew a deep -breath for the first time since he had been -awakened. If Gallegher only did not give him -away, nobody would ever know, and things would -be just the same as before. Nevertheless, he did -not find it easy to get to sleep, and woke before -dawn to lie wretchedly in his bunk until the -activity of the day would begin and he might win -forgetfulness in the rush of the day’s program.</p> -<p>The first blow fell just before breakfast, when -the entire camp strength was lined up after flag -salute and morning Call to the Colors. Hungrily -expectant and waiting for the command to march -in to mess, the arrayed campers were surprised -to find that the Chief delayed in giving the command. -He stood beside the flagpole with a stern -look in his eyes. The boys stirred in the ranks, -shifted their feet curiously, uncomprehendingly.</p> -<p>“Why doesn’t he tell us to go to breakfast?”</p> -<p>“Gee—I never saw him do this before!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_120">120</div> -<p>“Quiet in the ranks!” came the command of -Mr. Avery, the officer of the day. “Attention!”</p> -<p>The expectant bodies stiffened. The Chief -cleared his throat.</p> -<p>“Timothy Gallegher, five paces forward!” -he said.</p> -<p>A ripple of astonishment ran down the line. -Blackie felt a movement at his side; Gallegher -had left his place and now appeared in front of -the Chief, standing with a strange white look on -his drawn face, swaying slightly in his place.</p> -<p>“Timothy Gallegher, you have been guilty of -conduct unbecoming to a Lenape camper. You -will here, in the sight of all your comrades, be -stripped of the honor emblem which you have -been found unworthy to wear.”</p> -<p>The crowd gasped. Gallegher never moved, -staring in front of him with a blind tenseness. -The Chief reached into his pocket and drew forth -a clasp-knife, opened one of the sharp small -blades. From the end of the line came a muffled -tattoo; little Pete Lister, trap-drummer in the -camp orchestra, was sounding a rattling roll on -his drum, as he had been told to do.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_121">121</div> -<p>Slowly, in the sight of all, the swastika-L on -the front of Gallegher’s sweater was cut away. -The thin blade slit the stitches, and the Chief’s -hand tore away the green and white emblem of -honor. Blackie watched Gallegher’s face, fascinated. -He should be out there, too, taking his -medicine, suffering along with the Irish boy; he -was just as guilty, and more so, for at least -Gallegher had not lied about his guilt. Blackie -wanted to cry out, to tell them all that he should -be standing there, too, with the Chief tearing -away his own badge; but he stood rooted in his -place with a dry tongue and pale cheeks beneath -his tan.</p> -<p>Now it was too late. The Chief had put the -emblem and the knife into his pocket; the drumming -had stopped; Gallegher shambled doggedly -back to his place in the line, beside Blackie and -the other boys of Tent Four. The chance to -confess was past. Blackie rather envied Gallegher; -he had owned up and taken his punishment, -and however hard the work on the woodpile -might be, at least he would have no ugly -stain on his conscience.</p> -<p>“Right face! Forward—march!” The files -trailed up toward the lodge steps, and instantly -a curious babel of voices broke out.</p> -<p>“Gee, what did you do, Irish?”</p> -<p>“Say, you must have done something pretty -wild to get stripped like that!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_122">122</div> -<p>“Aw, shut up!” said Gallegher. “Key down, -see? That’s my business. Maybe, if the guys -that run this camp knew their stuff, I wouldn’t -be the only one to get stripped.”</p> -<p>“What do you mean?” asked Slater.</p> -<p>“I don’t mean a thing, see? Not a thing.” -He looked darkly at Blackie, who pretended he -had not heard. The boys of Tent Four clattered -up the steps. There was a smell of breakfast -in the air; everything was forgotten at the -thought of heaping dishes of cereal, hot biscuits, -steaming cocoa. But Blackie took his seat in -worried silence, bowing his head for grace. As -he looked down, there showed before him the -emblem sewed on his jersey, the swastika-L he -had won but had disgraced and now wore dishonorably. -He had a sudden, unreasoning desire -to pluck it from its place and throw it to the -floor. It wavered before his eyes, the burning -badge of his shame.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_123">123</div> -<h2 id="c11">CHAPTER XI -<br /><span class="small">KANGAROO COURT</span></h2> -<p>The day dragged on miserably for Blackie.</p> -<p>He had a feeling that the eyes of his tent-mates -were always furtively upon him; when he -would face them suddenly they would look away, -but he could feel their silent condemnation. Gallegher -spent the morning hours at work on the -woodpile; Blackie saw him now and then bent -over his job, toiling alone. They had not spoken -together since Wally had wakened them both the -night before; they did not speak at dinner or in -the tent during siesta hour afterwards. Blackie -felt that the Irish boy was avoiding the very sight -of him.</p> -<p>When Recall sounded after siesta and the boys -of Tent Four tumbled out for the afternoon’s -fun, Blackie did not leave his bunk. He found -himself alone with little Nightgown Guppy, who -sat on the tent step busily scooping out a section -of birch wood for a bird-house. He worked along -in silence, but finally raised his head curiously -and put a question.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_124">124</div> -<p>“What’s the matter, Blackie? Are you feeling -sick or something?”</p> -<p>“No, I’m not sick, you fool!” growled Blackie, -turning over on his pillow.</p> -<p>“Well, then, why don’t you get out and play -baseball with the bunch? The campers are playing -the councilors to-day, and you ought to be -in the game. I never thought you were a guy -that would spend all his time doing bunk-duty.”</p> -<p>“Who cares what you think? Shut up and -beat it. I’m sick of hearing you babies bawling -around all the time.”</p> -<p>Guppy worked on for a minute. “What are -you sore about, Blackie?” he asked after some -time. “Is it because you’re scared the Chief will -know you were smoking?”</p> -<p>Blackie sat up with a jerk. “How do you -know I was smoking?”</p> -<p>“Oh, everybody knows.”</p> -<p>“If Gallegher said anything, I’ll knock his -block off!”</p> -<p>“He didn’t have to say anything. We all -know you were in on it, and lied out of it to the -Chief.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_125">125</div> -<p>The bunk creaked as Blackie jumped up and -advanced toward the smaller boy with doubled -fists. “You say I’m a liar? By Jimmy, I’ll fix -you for this!”</p> -<p>“Don’t hit me!” said Guppy, dropping his -tools and edging away. “All I said was——”</p> -<p>“You said enough!” Blackie scowled fiercely, -seized the lad’s arm roughly, and gave it a -wrenching twist until Guppy cried out with pain. -“That’ll teach you to keep your mouth shut -around me! Now, will you be calling me a liar -any more? Will you? Will you?”</p> -<p>“Ow!” screamed Guppy. “I only said——You -let me be, Blackie Thorne, or you’ll be -sorry——”</p> -<p>Blackie gave the arm another vicious turn. -“If I hear you ever say again that I was smoking -with Gallegher, I’ll kill you, do you hear?”</p> -<p>“No, you won’t,” said a new voice. Blackie -looked up. Facing him were Ken Haviland, Gil -Shelton, and a group of older boys who had -approached unnoticed.</p> -<p>“Get him!” called Gil in a low tone. He and -Sunfish jumped and caught Blackie’s arms.</p> -<p>“Don’t try to struggle, or it’ll be worse for -you,” continued Ken. “All right, Gup—he -won’t bother you any more.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_126">126</div> -<p>Blackie found himself pinioned on both sides, -and a husky guard of four veteran campers -formed about him. They put him, still struggling, -on a locker in the center of the tent. Ken -Haviland assumed a seat on top of an upper -bunk, where he could look down upon the prisoner.</p> -<p>“The Kangaroo Court will now convene,” he -said solemnly.</p> -<p>“What’s the idea?” protested Blackie. “Gil, -I thought you and Sunfish and Soapy Mullins -were friends of mine!”</p> -<p>“Silence before the judge,” warned Gil. -“You are now in court. We’ll let your arms -loose if you promise not to run away.”</p> -<p>“But why? If one of the leaders comes along -now, you guys will sure look stupid.”</p> -<p>“All of the leaders are down at the baseball -field,” Sunfish assured him. “Anyway, it’ll be -worse for you if any of them hear tell of this. -Now, shut up! The court-martial is beginning.”</p> -<p>Ken Haviland, on his perch above, cleared his -throat and began to speak. “Gentlemen of the -Kangaroo Court, you have been called together -to try the case of Blackie Thorne of Tent Four, -Camp Lenape. You will see that justice is -done.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_127">127</div> -<p>The boys seated themselves about on boxes and -bunks. There were eleven of them, all from different -tent-groups, and all boys who had spent -at least one season at Lenape. Ken looked -sternly at Blackie.</p> -<p>“Prisoner, you are charged with breaking the -camp law against smoking and deliberately lying -about your act when questioned on your honor. -Are you guilty or not guilty?”</p> -<p>“So Gallegher’s been squealing, huh?” exclaimed -Blackie. “Well, what of it? What -right have you to treat me like a convict?”</p> -<p>“The right of the Kangaroo Court. You’re a -tenderfoot at camp, so I’ll explain to you what -we’re doing here. The Chief and the councilors -have nothing to do with it now. You were asked -on your honor if you had broken a camp rule, -and we know that you told a lie. Instead of -owning up and taking your punishment like a -man, you broke your word and sneaked out of -it. The Chief accepted your word; that’s all he -could do. But the campers of Lenape have -something to say about how a fellow like you -shall be treated. This court represents every -boy in camp, and every boy will stand by our -decision. Are you guilty or not?”</p> -<p>Blackie sneered. “And I suppose if I say I -am, you and this gang of yours will run and -tattle-tale to the Chief!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_128">128</div> -<p>“I said that the Chief has nothing to do with -this. And you only hurt yourself by acting -ugly.”</p> -<p>“All right,” said Blackie sullenly. “I did it. -What are you going to do about it?”</p> -<p>“Gentlemen of the court, the prisoner has -confessed his guilt. All in favor of inflicting the -usual penalty will rise.”</p> -<p>Every one of the eleven boys rose to his feet. -Blackie looked from one face to another of those -who had been his friends, and read there only -reluctant determination. Ken Haviland tore a -scrap of paper from a notebook in his pocket, and -scribbled on it with a pencil. Soapy Mullins -yanked Blackie to a standing position.</p> -<p>“Prisoner,” said Ken gravely, “the unanimous -decision of the Kangaroo Court is that you shall -be given the Black Spot.” He held out the scrap -of paper, and Blackie took it wonderingly. -There was nothing on it save a rude pencilled -black disc in the center. “From this moment -you are branded as a disgrace to Camp Lenape, -and not a single camper will speak so much as a -word to you. Court’s adjourned!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_129">129</div> -<p>The members of the court departed toward the -baseball field, taking Guppy with them, and the -culprit was left alone with the marked piece of -paper still in his hand. He crumpled it with an -angry gesture, and tossed it to the ground.</p> -<p>“Huh! They must think they’ve done something -smart! The Black Spot! Nobody will -talk to me—we’ll see about that! And what if -they don’t? A lot I’d care if I never saw any of -this bunch of Sunday-school kids again!”</p> -<p>He caught up a hat and marched down to the -ball field, drawn there by a desire to brazen it -out and see if his sentence meant anything. The -boys’ team was at bat, and Lefty Reardon, captain, -was coaching off third base.</p> -<p>“Hey, Lefty!” Blackie hailed him. “How -about giving me a game?”</p> -<p>Lefty turned, looked him up and down quietly, -and turned away again as though he hadn’t heard -the question. Blackie flushed, and after standing -uneasily for a minute, tried to look unconcerned -and strolled down to the gathering around -the batter. There was a low ripple of whispers -at his approach; boys nudged each other and -turned to look, turned away with half-hidden -smiles of contempt. He did not even dare to -speak to one of them. For the moment he was -tempted to rough-house one or two of the -younger boys just to see whether or not they -could be made to speak; but he remembered what -had happened when he had twisted Guppy’s arm, -and knew that any defiance of the unwritten code -would be useless.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_130">130</div> -<p>“What’s the score?” he asked of the world in -general.</p> -<p>Not a boy answered him. Someone at his -elbow snickered; no one looked in his face. He -felt like a ghost, a branded being who had no -right among that bunch of happy campers; he -was lonely in a crowd.</p> -<p>The only reason he watched the game to its -finish was because he refused to give the boys the -satisfaction of having driven him away. It was -the most wretched afternoon he had ever spent. -He sat, drawn apart from the rest, inwardly -seething with fury and wondering how long he -could stand it. He forgot the exhilarating, -breath-taking delights he had enjoyed at Lenape; -he could only remember the little dislikes he had -acquired, the humiliation of his ejection from the -Stuck-Up initiation, the crude and unceasing -jokes that had been played upon him. He hated -the Chief, the leaders; with all the boys against -him, staying at Lenape was unbearable. He -would leave the hateful place! It was the only -thing to do—run away from them all and never, -never come back!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_131">131</div> -<p>He sat there moodily, pondering the plan in -his mind. It was easy enough to decide to run -away—but where should he go? If he went back -to the city, he would have to face his mother with -a tale of disgrace, and the boys of the camp -would soon discover that their punishment had -driven him home like a whipped dog. If he -slipped away and went east, toward Elmville and -the railroad, Wally would soon discover that he -was missing; a hunt would start, he would be -easily traced and found before he could get far, -and he would be brought back to camp again, -baffled and more of an object of reproach than -ever. But if he could manage to get too far -away to be traced, and stay hidden somewhere for -three or four days, they would think him dead, -and when he finally did return they would be so -glad they would forget all about his crime, would -be sorry they had caused him to run off alone. -The open road, that was the thing! He would -be a hobo for a while, might even bum his way -to some city miles off, having an adventurous -time on the road while the Lenape kids did their -smart little tricks and acted like Sunday-school -babies and thought they were having a good time!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_132">132</div> -<p>After some thought he decided not to leave -immediately, but to wait until supper-time. -He was watched too closely now; every boy in -camp knew of his sentence and was covertly -watching to see how he would take it. But if he -slipped away when the camp was assembled in -the mess hall, it was not likely that he would be -seen. Wally might wonder what had become of -him, but would not take steps to find out until -after the meal; and by that time Blackie hoped -to be several miles away in a direction they would -not expect him to take. He had seen the county -map which hung in the lodge, and knew that -Newmiln Center, on Flatstone Creek, was about -ten miles as the crow flies northwest over the -mountains, in a rich farming region that was -separated from camp by miles of wilderness into -which nobody ever penetrated. They would not -look for him on top of the ridges; they would -never suspect that he dared go there. Why, -given a fair start and three hours of daylight, he -might even make Newmiln Center before dark -closed in!</p> -<p>“I’ll do it!” Blackie muttered darkly to himself. -“I’ll show them I won’t knuckle under, no -matter what they do!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_133">133</div> -<p>He would take his blankets, he decided, and -also his flash-lantern, ax, and compass. The next -problem was food. That would have to be taken—“hooked”—out -of the kitchen somehow. But -unless there was one of the kitchen crew at work, -the place was always kept locked. He would -have to manage, somehow.</p> -<p>He thought over his plans during the two -hours before Retreat and the evening flag-lowering -ceremony. He did not appear for swim, but -spent the time making a neat roll of his blankets, -which he hid along with his flash-lamp, compass -and ax in the bushes beside the road behind camp. -He knew that if his absence at the swimming -dock was noted, the boys would put it down to -wanting to escape their silent contempt.</p> -<p>He was in his place when Retreat Call -trumpeted out over the lake; but when the usual -evening rush to tables began and the files clattered -up the steps, he slipped around to the back -door of the kitchen. He found himself in the -pantry; shelves of canned goods lined the walls, -under which were bins of vegetables, and the -mirrored doors of the huge ice-box took up one -side of the room. During the hush that preceded -the saying of grace in the mess hall, he could -hear Ellick whispering directions to Leggy and -his other dusky assistants, who were busied dishing -up the meal. This is what Blackie had -counted upon, having the kitchen crew so busy -at this time that they would not see him. Hastily -he slipped a few potatoes and a can of peas into -his shirt, and ran to the ice-box. A cool, humid -breath of air came out to him as he opened the -door and peered inside; it was dark within, and -he felt about hoping to locate something he could -take. His hand touched a plate of cheese, and -he drew forth a good-sized chunk. There was a -rattle of dishes from the kitchen. Ellick’s voice -came to his ears.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_134">134</div> -<p>“Leggy, you just hurry up now and bring in -de butter from de ice-box!”</p> -<p>Leggy’s dragging footsteps sounded across the -floor. With frenzied haste Blackie grabbed at -whatever happened to be under his hand. It -proved to be a slice of ham. Slamming the ice-box -door, he clattered across to the exit and ran -out of the skinny kitchen-helper’s sight. That -had been a close squeak! Pausing only to stuff -the ham and cheese into the pockets of his -sweater, he darted around behind the wooden -building that was used for an ice-house and -gained the rutted road that led toward the mountains. -Here he found his blanket roll and accouterments, -slipped the roll over his head and -hooked the ax and lantern on his belt, and trotted -westward through the woods.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_135">135</div> -<h2 id="c12">CHAPTER XII -<br /><span class="small">THE HUT ON BLACK POND</span></h2> -<p>Half a mile up the road, where it turned at -right angles to climb the mountainside, -Blackie paused and took his first compass observation. -His course was northwest; but he remembered -that if he looked at the compass only -now and then, he might go wide of his goal; the -thing to do was to take an observation, note a -landmark ahead in line with the NW on the -compass, make straight for that place, and from -there make a new observation on another landmark. -The little shifting needle showed him -that his first leg of the journey should take him -diagonally up the wooded mountain to a grayish, -scarred slide of stones that showed ahead in the -dropping sun. He knew what that was, although -he had never been there. It was the terminal -moraine Gil Shelton had pointed out to him the -day he had first landed in camp—the Devil’s -Potato Patch, the campers called it—a heap of -blotched, round boulders known as a favorite -resort for rattlesnakes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_136">136</div> -<p>Blackie knew he must hurry if he was to reach -the Flatstone valley before dark. Pausing only -to stow his plundered supply of food more -snugly in his pockets and to shift his blanket-roll -to the other shoulder, he set off across an expanse -of marshy pasture land toward his first goal. -The deer-flies swarmed about his face and neck, -stinging pitilessly, and he increased his pace as -much as he could to get away from them. He -had been prudent enough to wear his heavy hiking -shoes, but in several places he floundered into -muddy pools and sank into dirty water over his -ankles. At last he reached the heavily-wooded -base of the mountain, and was forced to slow -down and begin a determined climb through the -underbrush, up ledges of yellow, mossy rock, and -across slippery patches of shale where he had to -go slowly and watch his footing. Half-way up -the mountainside, he gained the bottom of the -terminal moraine. Huge rocks, gray with lichens -and scratched in rough, random designs, stretched -above him; he was forced to leap precariously -from rock to rock, always upward, several times -catching himself just in time to avoid a nasty -headlong fall. Once, indeed, he slipped on a bit -of moss, and toppled sidewise into a cranny -between two of the boulders. His blanket-roll -saved his body from being more than bruised; -but in falling one hand slipped under his body, -and his heavy electric flash-lamp banged down -upon a rock, crushing one of his finger-tips badly. -The darting pain brought tears to his eyes, and -he shook the injured finger violently. Scrambling -to his feet for fear he might have fallen -close to the hiding-place of some vicious, venomous -timber-rattler, he struggled on over the -great rocks; and after what seemed like hours of -toilsome climbing, he at last gained the top of -the first ridge.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_137">137</div> -<p>There, on the mountain’s top, the evening -light was brighter, but in the valley he had just -left the shadows were long and cool. He turned -and faced toward the east. There was the lake, -spreading like a polished deep mirror that reflected -the gold and blue evening sky, the serried -rows of trees along the margin. There were the -ordered rows of white tents, the top of the lodge -roof with smoke wreathing lazily from the stone -chimney and with the bare flagpole standing up -beyond. He could see Camp Lenape as if it were -a toy model spread out at his feet, almost hidden -in the gray-green foliage of the forest. A slight -breeze brought to him the faint clatter of trays -from the mess hall, the confused hum of campers’ -voices. They would be almost finished supper, -now. Wally and Haviland and Gallegher and -the rest would be sitting about the mess-table, -wondering where he had disappeared. Well, let -them worry!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_138">138</div> -<p>The thought of supper made him remember -that he had had nothing to eat since dinner-time. -He pulled out the piece of cheese he had looted -from the ice-box, and began gnawing upon it. -He could eat a little while he rested. He turned -a bit to the left. Beyond the pasture-land he had -crossed on his flight, he saw a line of trees that -marked a lane. He knew that lane; it was the -one which led to the hermit’s house, the road he -had followed the night he had heard murder done -by the two tramps, Reno and Lew. He could -barely make out the weather-stained, mottled -shingles of the roof of the house, and shivered -slightly. He would be glad to go anywhere, anywhere -away from the neighborhood of that grim -house of crime.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_139">139</div> -<p>Pulling out his compass, he marked a new line -of march across the undulating summit of the -mountain. It pointed toward a blasted pine -taller than the rest, and he resolved to make for -that. The going was easier here on the mountain; -the daylight was clearer, and the trees -were stunted and far apart, scrub pine and small -oaks no more than waist-high, for the most part. -Blackie trotted along with assurance, chewing -upon a piece of raw ham torn from the slice in -his pocket in lieu of supper. He crossed a ravine -and stumbled up the other side; this took time, -and now he could almost watch the sun dropping -inch by inch toward the line of trees in the west. -There was not a sign that human beings had ever -passed that way; Blackie knew that no one ever -penetrated that desolate wilderness except deer-hunters -and blueberry pickers in the fall of the -year. When he again gained level ground, he -found that somehow he had lost sight of the -blasted pine he had picked as a landmark. This -did not trouble him much; he took out the compass -and again sighted toward the northwest. -His finger was bothering him more than anything -else; the tip had swelled, and the nail was -fast turning an angry purple color. It felt -double its size, and as the boy swung along it -throbbed and ached until Blackie was desperate -with pain.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_140">140</div> -<p>He had covered about a mile and a half since -landing on the plateau on top of the ridge when -he came to a section that was marked by long -wooded swales, rank with rotting vegetation, -crossing his path. The sun was dropping lower -and lower; it shone like a flaming, bloody ball -close to the horizon, and its slanting rays blinded -his eyes until the woods about him seemed dim -and unreal. He determined not to deviate from -the line he had laid for himself, for fear of -getting off the track; and when he came to the -giant bole of a fallen tree, he tried to climb over -it instead of going yards around. The knobs and -splinters of the rotting trunk caught at his clothing -and his equipment; while scrambling over the -top he slipped and fell prostrate across it, knocking -the breath from his lungs. A train of white -ants crossed his arm, and when he crawled slowly -and clumsily to his feet, he felt their red-hot -stings on his wrist and up his sleeve. It seemed -that the insects were everywhere under his clothing, -jabbing their poisoned darts of pain into his -skin. He jumped from the top of the trunk, -landing on his face and scratching it until it was -crossed by bloody lines. The ground now became -marshy, and he was beset by a humming tribe of -mosquitoes. Still he staggered on, until brought -to a stop by a spread of green, scummy water -that barred his path completely.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_141">141</div> -<p>Blackie considered. At the rate the sun was -disappearing, and at the rate he was taking to -make a few miles across the mountains, he would -never reach Newmiln by dark. It would mean -a night alone in this unexplored region, a night -of fighting mosquitoes and unceasing watchfulness -for rattlesnakes, night-prowling animals, -and perhaps worse. He remembered all the tales -he had ever heard of lone travellers caught at -nightfall in strange and desolate solitudes, of -attacks by bears, wolves, ghosts of slain Indians. -And suddenly, like a chilling cloak, fear came -to him and enveloped him. He felt the short -hairs of his neck rise and prickle; an icy finger -trailed down his spine. He would have to get -on; he must cross the swamp somehow, anyhow!</p> -<p>The water in the slimy pool was only a few -inches deep; through the green scum he could see -the muddy, coated bottom. Feverishly he looked -about him, and seized a number of fallen branches -that lay on the ground, filled with the idea of -making a rough bridge by casting them across -the few feet of swamp ahead. He worked -furiously, and soon had a network of branches -thrown ahead, across which he hoped to run and -so gain the far side. There was no room behind -him for a clear take-off; it would have to be a -standing jump. He stood for a second, getting -up his nerve; and with a leap he landed upon the -center of the improvised bridge. There was a -snapping crackle of branches—the ones he had -chosen were ground branches, and rotten. They -gave under his feet, breaking and sinking into -the mud; and he fell headlong on his face into the -sticky ooze.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_142">142</div> -<p>The swamp was a sucking enemy, trying to -drag him under and hold him close, until the foul -waters should close over his head; it bubbled -under him, seeming to chuckle like a fiend. -Frantically he fought his way to an upright position; -he was standing almost waist-deep in the -slime. Urged on by fear, he floundered forward, -caught at an overhanging bush, and pulled himself -slowly to firm ground. There he lay for a -minute, gasping with exhaustion and terror after -his exertion. The lower half of his body was -soaked with filthy mud; his face and blanket-roll -were draggled and stained from his fall. But he -must not stop; he must push on, onward to the -northwest!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_143">143</div> -<p>For ten minutes he wandered through the -marshy swales, avoiding the frequent pools -whenever he could. The forest was too thick for -him to spot any landmark ahead, and he gave up -the idea of climbing a tree for an observation, because -it would take up too much of his precious -time. At last the ground sloped upward again; -open spaces began to appear; the footing was -easier. He pushed on, deadly afraid to halt in -that darkening place of horror.</p> -<p>Blackie never remembered afterwards very -much what he did during the remainder of that -twilight march. He had a picture of himself—a -hungry, weary, frightened figure, dwarfed by the -bigness and ominous vastness of that solitude, -caked with drying muck, scratched with twigs -and thorns, and ever followed by a cloud of stinging -mosquitoes—fighting his way through the -desolation. He had the feeling of one in a nightmare, -when the dreamer is pursued by darkness -and nameless horrors, and the very ground -seems to rise and clutch and hold him back. And -he remembered coming to the edge of the rhododendron -thickets and feeling that he could not -go on.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_144">144</div> -<p>The tangled network of the rhododendrons -fronted an implacable barrier to his steps. There -was no way to go around. It offered little resistance -as he first plunged into it, but as steadily -as he advanced, as surely did the branching horns -of the shrub take hold on him. It was like trying -to walk through a gigantic wickerwork basket, -woven of tough and intertwined saplings. Again -and again he plunged like a line-bucking football -guard, and inch by inch fought his way. In one -place he tried to stoop and crawl beneath the -clutching branches, and was caught among the -roots as in a vise, until he felt that he could move -neither forward nor backward, but would have -to stay imprisoned in that dusky brake until he -died of thirst and starvation. He gave a frantic -heave, and was free to fight his way further. -The shadows were lengthening; the clock of the -sky warned him that his time was short.</p> -<p>In the midst of his trouble he began talking -desperately to himself; and finally he broke into -high-pitched, shouting song. Over and over -again he roared out to the brooding silence of the -woods every hymn-tune he had ever heard. -Ridiculously, he thought this would protect him -from the unnamed evils of the place, and the -singing certainly bolstered his courage.</p> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="t0">“Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide,</p> -<p class="t0">The darkness deepens—Lord, with me abide——”</p> -</div> -<p>He had lost his hat, he did not remember where. -Plunge—plunge—forward through the gripping -coppice!</p> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="t0">“When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,</p> -<p class="t0">Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!”</p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_145">145</div> -<p>At last! He gave a wild cry and broke through -the last entangling thicket, and the rhododendrons -crackled closed behind him. He was free -again!</p> -<p>He did not pause to take any more compass -courses, or to straighten his clothing or pack, or -to snatch a bite of food. He broke into a staggering -run. His flight took him for about half -a mile, into the bloodshot eye of the sun. He was -dripping with perspiration, and heaving great -shaking sobs. A fallen pine tripped him and he -rolled heavily down a steep bank. When he -picked himself up he found that he was standing -on a dimly-traced path through the woods—a -bare, almost invisible trail, but a path nevertheless, -leading in what he thought was the direction -he should follow.</p> -<p>A path meant that humans passed that way at -some time or another, and might lead to habitations -and possible discovery. But the forest -terrors so clouded the boy’s mind that he welcomed -any companionship, no matter what kind. -It would at least give him company and allies -against the loneliness that beset him. It was -growing dark; a blue jay somewhere overhead was -bickering to himself among the pine branches. -Blackie trotted down the path.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_146">146</div> -<p>It led him along a wooded ledge of naked -rock, and down across a marshy flat place where -a brook widened and lost itself in a dense hedge -of rushes. He crossed on a series of flat stones, -and ascended a little hill. One look, and he gave -a shout of surprise.</p> -<p>There, spread before him beyond the margin -of the reeds, was a long flat sheet of water, a -mountain tarn whose unruffled surface, like a -plate of polished steel, gave off the last dying -beams of sunset. He had come too far to the -south; he was off the course he had laid for -Newmiln Center. This must be Black Pond, the -long body of water he had seen marked on the -map in the camp lodge.</p> -<p>The pond, hidden among the rocks and dark -trees of the mountain, at no time had a friendly -look; now, at nightfall, it presented to the weary -boy a face full of sinister threat. He was several -miles out of his way; further progress that -night was impossible. He would have to camp -here on Black Pond.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_147">147</div> -<p>He was just turning away to locate a camping -place, when his eye was caught by something -which he had not noticed in his brief survey of -the pond and its surroundings. Through the -trees to the right a thin wisp of smoke was -curling up in a languid spiral.</p> -<p>Someone was camping beside the pond! -Blackie did not hesitate; the fear of spending the -night alone offered no choice. He ran to the -end of the path. There, beside the still waters -of Black Pond, was a small shack rudely knocked -together from rough pine slabs and chinked with -moss. The spreading wings and steel-edged -talons of a hawk, shot at some time or another, -were nailed to the wall near the low door, in the -usual back-country fashion. The smoke of a fire -came from a stone chimney at one end. A small -rowboat with a puddle in the bottom was drawn -up on the muddy shore.</p> -<p>Blackie paused for a moment. He didn’t like -the looks of the place, but beggars can’t be -choosers; it was now quite dark, and the smoke -indicated a cheery fire inside. Some hunter or -fisherman, who used this small hut for his camp, -must be inside. Blackie tiptoed to the door and -knocked hesitantly.</p> -<p>From beyond the rough barrier came a startled -grunt, the sound of a body moving swiftly across -the hut. Blackie knocked again, growing more -and more concerned as the silence continued.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_148">148</div> -<p>With a sudden jerk the door was flung open, -and a man’s figure appeared outlined in the firelight, -with one arm menacingly upraised, wielding -what seemed to be a short iron bar. Blackie -Thorne stared, and gave a shrill scream of -fright.</p> -<p>He was looking in the face of the man called -Reno, one of the two tramps he had overheard -on the night of the snipe hunt planning to rob -old Rattlesnake Joe of his imaginary treasure! -He could plainly see the seamed face, the gray -unshaven jowls, and the green eye-patch of that -sinister character.</p> -<p>The tramp was as surprised as the boy. “In -the devil’s name, it’s a kid!” he bellowed. “A -kid, Lew! Nab ’im, quick!” He made a dive -for Blackie, but the boy, pulled by terror, had -already taken to his legs back up the path—away, -away from that evil face in the hut. He stumbled -frantically through the dark—the further -away from Black Pond, the better! Behind him -he could hear the baffled howling of Reno. He -would escape yet——</p> -<p>He stumbled, felt a pair of gripping arms -about him, holding him tight so that he could not -struggle. A hoarse voice called, “Here he is, -Reno! Got the bloody little rat!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_149">149</div> -<p>“Good!” came the response. “Bring ’im here -to the light. If he’s a spy, I’ll pull out his little -throat, blast ’im!”</p> -<p>Helpless and too weary to fight any more, -Blackie felt himself being picked up roughly and -carried toward the hut on Black Pond that was -the hiding-place of the two murderous vagabonds -who had done to death the harmless old hermit of -the Lenape hills.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_150">150</div> -<h2 id="c13">CHAPTER XIII -<br /><span class="small">ROBBERY BY NIGHT</span></h2> -<p>“Bring ’im over here to the fire, Lew,” -directed Reno, “and we’ll just have a look -at his ugly mug.”</p> -<p>The younger tramp carried Blackie to the -hearth and threw him down on his back, still -gripping him about the body with both hands. -Reno, the man with the patch over his eye, stood -up against the fireplace the bar he had been using -as a weapon. Blackie recognized that bar at -once. It was the object the hermit had shown -them when the campers visited him—his prized -“thunderbolt” that had been the direct cause of -his death. Dazed, he watched Reno stir up the -fire and draw forth a blazing brand which he held -up for a torch, close to the boy’s features.</p> -<p>“Glory be, it’s just a young kid!” snorted -Lew. “From the way he was fightin’ me, I -thought it was a wildcat at least! What’s he -doin’ here?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_151">151</div> -<p>Reno spat, wiped his mouth, and swore terribly -with his face close to Blackie’s. “You, now! -Who sent you here?”</p> -<p>“N-N-Nobody,” the boy managed to stammer.</p> -<p>“No tricks, now!” warned the loathsome -tramp. “If you’re alone, what are you doin’ -here?”</p> -<p>Blackie was terribly frightened, but kept his -head. These men were dangerous; he was alone -with them, miles from any help. They could not -guess that of all the people in the world, he alone -had witnessed the death of the hermit at their -hands. But if he admitted that he came from -Camp Lenape, they would wonder why he was -away from camp by himself, and would suspect -that there were others near. He must depend -upon his wits, now; and with the shadow of the -great lie at camp hanging over him, he felt that -one lie more or less would not matter now.</p> -<p>“I’m on the road, Mister Reno,” he said. “I -didn’t know you were here—I’m bumming -around by myself, honest!”</p> -<p>The tramp laughed nastily. “On the road, -huh? Well, we need a kid about your size. Stick -with us, see, and you’ll be rich some day. Frisk -’im, Lew.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_152">152</div> -<p>The weak-chinned man called Lew was rapidly -going through Blackie’s pockets and unstrapping -his belt. “We’re in luck!” he said. “Grub and -a light and blankets! An ax, too; the kid can use -it to chop more wood for our fire. Look, Reno—we’ll -have a regular banquet—peas and ham and -spuds!”</p> -<p>“About time,” yawned Reno, moving back to -the fire. “Get a move on and dish up supper. -Blast my eyes if I ain’t sick to death of livin’ on -fish and berries.”</p> -<p>Lew permitted Blackie to get up. “Well, -what did ya expect to live on while we was waitin’ -for the Big Job to blow over——” he began, but -Reno stopped him with a hasty gesture.</p> -<p>“Shut up! If the sheriff was to hear ya say -that——” he threatened. Lew turned away, -muttering, and with Blackie’s hand-ax chopped -open the can of peas and began cooking the meal -at the fire.</p> -<p>Blackie, unharmed for the present but stripped -of his supply of food and all his equipment, was -allowed to sit in a corner and wonder how he -could get out of his plight. Escape for the -present was impossible; he was too closely -guarded to get out of the hut, and even if he -did so, he would be lost in the dark wilderness -where every horror in the world might lurk.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_153">153</div> -<p>The supper cooked, the two tramps set to in -surly silence and gobbled up every scrap of food -Blackie had brought. He did not dare ask for a -share, but hungrily watched them devour the -meal to the last morsel. Reno finished first, -wiped his greasy mouth on the back of his sleeve, -yawned loudly, took one of Blackie’s blankets and -an old quilt he picked up somewhere, and laid out -his bed on the floor of the hut. His back was -against the low door, the only means of exit from -the place, and before turning in, he took the ax -and placed it under his ragged coat, which he -had doubled to serve as a pillow. Lew, leaving -the dirty dishes on the rough table, took the -remaining blanket and sprawled out on the floor -near the fire.</p> -<p>Blackie ventured a question. “Excuse me, -Mister,” he said, “but where can I sleep?”</p> -<p>Reno rolled over and glowered. “A lot I’d -care if ya never slept, ya dirty whelp! Shut yer -face!”</p> -<p>“But—you have all the blankets, and——”</p> -<p>Lew reached out a booted foot and kicked the -boy viciously. “I’ll kill ya if ya don’t stow yer -gab!” he growled. “Kids like you don’t need -covers. If I hear any more out of ya, I’ll jam -my foot in yer mush!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_154">154</div> -<p>Blackie spent that unforgettable night squatting -on the hearth beside the fireplace. Now and -then he would drift off into a restless sleep, -troubled by dreadful dreams and startled awakenings. -His finger-tip ached continually, and the -nail had turned so black that he knew he would -lose it. He crouched miserably by the dead fire, -shivering from the damp chill that rose from the -pond and listening to the heavy breathing of the -two sleepers who barred his way to escape. His -teeth chattered as much from fear as from the -cold, for he could not forget that he was in the -terrible company of a pair of desperate murderers -who would twist his throat if they guessed -he knew anything about their crime. Once he -dreamed that he was back in Camp Lenape, -lying stretched out in his bunk at Tattoo, with -the stars bright over the pines, the friendly feel -of happy boys about him, and Wally sitting -beside the tent-pole reading vespers out of his -Bible. He woke with a start, and saw the two -ugly figures sprawled on the floor in the dim -firelight. Camp was behind him; he had left all -that, and was “on the road.” His cheeks were -wet; he had been crying softly to himself in his -sleep.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div> -<p>Gray dawn came at last. The two hoboes -roused themselves, and permitted Blackie to wash -his face and hands at the edge of the pond, -making fun of him for a delicate greenhorn as -they watched him. Shortly after, Reno disappeared -into the woods and after about an hour, -returned with a hat full of huckleberries, upon -which he and Lew breakfasted, neither offering -any to Blackie nor allowing him to find any for -himself. He was not out of the sight of one of -them during that whole dragging day. Save for -a muttered curse or a blow on the head, they -treated him as though he did not exist. The men -played with a grimy deck of cards most of the -morning, making large wagers against each other -and swearing blasphemously when they lost, -although the boy could not see that either of them -had a penny to win or lose. Around noon, as -near as Blackie could judge, Lew took a fishing -line and rowed out upon the pond in the leaky -old boat. He was gone for several hours. Reno -spent the time chewing tobacco and playing a -game of solitaire, or else snoring with his back -against the door.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_156">156</div> -<p>Lew returned from his fishing expedition -empty-handed and in an ugly humor, and conferred -with the older tramp in muttered whispers. -Blackie was driven to the other end of the small -hut while they spoke, but listened as hard as he -could and managed to catch a word now and -then. Once he heard distinctly the phrase, -“Flatstone Creek,” and again, “the kid can do -it.” At the end of the talk, Reno rose angrily -and shouted, “I’m sick of yer snivelling like a -yellow cur! The whole thing has all blown over -by now—anyways, they haven’t anything on us -to prove we done it!” He began stamping out -the fire, rolled the blankets in an ungainly bundle, -and stuck the ax in his belt. Lew also made up -his blankets, to which he attached the flash-lamp.</p> -<p>“Here, you kid!” he said, “grab these bundles -and tote ’em for us. We’re clearin’ out of here.”</p> -<p>This completed the preparations for departure. -Leaving the hut in a litter, with the door hanging -open, the two tramps led the way north around -the edge of the pond, followed by Blackie, who -stumbled along blindly under the burden of the -blankets and quilt and the lantern. Reno led at -a lazy gait, turning west after the end of Black -Pond was rounded and strolling through the -forested ridge for about three hours. At each -step Blackie grew more weary; he was, after -more than twenty-four hours of fasting, almost -ready to keel over with starvation. He was only -allowed to drop his bundles and rest a few -minutes now and then, when the men felt like -stopping. He had no idea where the hoboes were -going or what they intended to do.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_157">157</div> -<p>At sundown, Reno called a halt. Blackie wondered -if the mountain would ever end. He threw -down the blankets and fell upon them wearily; -but to his surprise the two tramps lay on their -faces and peered out westward through a clump -of bushes. His curiosity overcoming his fatigue, -Blackie crawled over to their side, dodged a kick -from Lew, and looked in the direction Reno was -pointing with outstretched arm.</p> -<p>They were on the edge of a steep bluff fronting -on a pretty little green valley in the center -of which ran the silver ribbon of a brook. Beyond -rose, purple-clad, a low range of hills that Blackie -judged might fringe the Delaware. He was sure -the creek below must be the Flatstone—they had -been heading into the sunset for the past hour. -To the boy, enslaved by the loathsome vagrants -and unable to escape from their abuse and dangerous -company, the peaceful valley looked like -a promised land. Green, cool pastures spread on -each side of the brook, where cattle grazed, fat -little cows looking small enough, viewed from the -grim cliff, to have come out of a toy Noah’s ark.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_158">158</div> -<p>Almost under them, at the base of the steep -mountainside, a white farmhouse lay near an -orchard of gnarled apple trees fronting on a yellow -dirt road running north and south. Across -the road was a rambling red barn, a farmyard -full of chickens, and the remains of an old lime-kiln.</p> -<p>“That’s the place I saw yesterday,” said Reno. -“Nobody there at night but the old guy and his -wife—the hired man lives up at the Center. I -found out that much.”</p> -<p>“I’m starved,” muttered Lew. “How long -have we got to wait?”</p> -<p>“Aw, these hicks go to bed early. If we wait -a couple hours, they’ll be so much asleep you -couldn’t wake ’em up with a cannon. We’ll take -anything they got, and then beat it over to -Pennsylvania for a while. Lots of good places -across the river where we can lay low—this district -will be gettin’ too hot to hold us pretty -soon.”</p> -<p>Nothing further was said for some time. -Smoke curled from the chimney of the farmhouse; -evidently the people inside were eating -dinner. A hearty country meal it would be, -Blackie thought, and his mouth watered as he -visioned smoking joints of meat, thick bread and -jam, rich creamy milk, golden-crusted slabs of -pie, corn and squash and pickles and beets, chocolate -cake—— He tried to pass the time thinking -of all the dishes in the world that he liked; -but soon had to stop because of the clawing pangs -of hunger that gripped him.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_159">159</div> -<p>Reno and Lew lay watching the house like -wolves awaiting the coming of night before attacking -a defenseless sheepfold. Once a horse-drawn -buggy with one occupant passed along the -road, driving away from the Center that showed -dimly as a cluster of white houses and a church -tower to the north, where a bridge spanned the -stream. The sun disappeared; a few lights -blinked forth in the house below, giving it a -cheerful, friendly look amidst the mysterious -dark of the valley.</p> -<p>Blackie, left to himself, thought of nothing -but the chances of escape from the ugly pair he -had been thrown in with by the fortunes of the -road. If he could squirm away unnoticed, and -make a sudden dash down the side of the cliff, he -might get clear and find his way to one of the -houses in the valley. He was more than willing -to risk a broken ankle in the dark to win free of -the tramps. He rolled over as quietly as he -could, and began to worm his way across the -ground; but he made the mistake of putting his -weight upon a branch which snapped and gave -way beneath him, and Reno jumped up and -caught him by the collar with a snarl.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_160">160</div> -<p>“No tricks like that, my hearty!” he muttered. -“Try that again, and you’ll be black and blue for -a month! I’ll skin ya, so I will!”</p> -<p>Blackie bowed his head under a rain of blows -that stunned him and made his ears ring. He -lay quietly after that, and did not move until, -after about an hour, the two men rose to their -feet with an air of determination. By this time -the lights in the farmhouse below had disappeared, -one by one; evidently the inhabitants -were all fast asleep. Reno led the way to the -left, picking his path by the aid of Blackie’s -flash-lantern shielded under his coat; Blackie -followed, still stumbling beneath the weight of -the blankets; while Lew brought up the rear, -cursing softly when he stumbled on the treacherous -ground. They picked their way down the -steep slope of the mountainside, and after half -an hour of slow going, came out on the dirt road -near the barn. Here Reno snapped off the light, -and without even a moon to guide them the -tramps, like the thieves and night marauders they -were, sneaked cautiously through the orchard -until they reached the back of the farmhouse, and -stopped a few yards from the low cellar-door.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_161">161</div> -<p>Here they paused for a brief consultation, and -then Reno crept toward the house, while Lew -watched him, meanwhile holding Blackie’s arm in -a vise-like grip. No sooner had he vanished in -the direction of the house than the night was full -of the rousing bark of a dog.</p> -<p>“Curse the luck——” began Lew; but on the -instant the bark died away in a blood-curdling, -stricken howl; and afterwards there was silence -again. He listened in a strained attitude, still -clutching Blackie, who could hear his heart beat -so loudly that it seemed as if the inhabitants of -the house must hear those throbbing thumps between -his ribs and waken in alarm. Finally Reno -came back to them, moving like a shadow in the -starlight.</p> -<p>“It’s all clear!” Blackie heard him whisper -hoarsely. “The watch-dog heard me and almost -give the show away, but I cut his throat right -quick. I tried all the doors and windows, and -everything is tight as a drum—but there’s a little -window in the kitchen that the kid might be able -to get through.”</p> -<p>“Send him along,” said Lew. “Does he know -what to do?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_162">162</div> -<p>“He’d better know!” whispered Reno sharply. -“Listen, kid—ya got to help us. I’m goin’ to -boost ya through a window into the kitchen, and -you pass out all the grub you can find. While -I was around lookin’ at the windows, I found a -gunny-sack they use for a doormat, and we can -stuff it full of grub and take it with us.”</p> -<p>“But—but that’s stealing!” exclaimed Blackie.</p> -<p>Reno grasped his throat swiftly, and choked -the words in the boy’s throat. “Shut yer trap—do -ya want the whole house down on us? And -what if it is stealin’? Ya ain’t above that, are -ya, ya little ladylike brat?”</p> -<p>“But what if they catch me in there?” moaned -Blackie through his teeth.</p> -<p>“Ya better not let them catch ya, that’s all. -But let me tell ya, it’d be a sight better to have -the old farmer catch ya and put a shotgun full -of buckshot into ya than to come back to me -without a pile of grub!” There was an edged -threat in his voice, and Blackie did not dare say -another word. If only he had stayed at camp -and obeyed the rules, he would not now have to -choose between robbing a house and being beaten -within an inch of his life by a murderous tramp!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_163">163</div> -<p>He allowed Reno to push him around to a -small, high window at the rear of the house. -“There it is, kid,” whispered the man in his ear, -“and if ya see anything else worth takin’, pass -it out to me!” He lifted the boy to the ledge, -and Blackie fumbled with the catch. The window -opened outwards with a slight creaking -noise, leaving an aperture about half a yard -square. Making no further protest, which he -knew would be useless, Blackie squirmed through -after some trouble, and lowered himself slowly -into the silent kitchen of the sleeping house. He -had a new plan in his head now, and permitting -himself to be pushed inside the farmhouse was a -necessary part of it. It was his duty to rouse the -owner of the farm and warn him of the danger -lurking without. If there was a telephone in the -place, perhaps help could be speedily summoned -in time to capture the murderers outside; if not, -at least the house could be barricaded and the -tramps driven off. The farmer would give -Blackie shelter for the night, he hoped, and anyway -he would be free of the domination and driving -of the two vagrants; but unless the farmer -was awakened with care and quickly comprehended -what Blackie would tell him, he might -misunderstand and take the boy for a robber before -he could explain. Nevertheless, Blackie felt -that he must carry out his plan no matter at what -danger to himself.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_164">164</div> -<p>He found himself in a sort of pantry leading -off from the spacious farm kitchen. A low red -fire still glowed in the stove, and he could make -out the walls lined with jars and cans and boxes -and cooking utensils of all kinds. A low hiss -from the window warned him that Reno was still -on the lookout. He would have to work rapidly.</p> -<p>Looking about him hastily in the dull light, he -found a door that seemed to lead to the other -parts of the house. Tiptoeing across the uncarpeted -floor one careful step at a time, he reached -the door and entered a long hallway. This he -followed for a yard or two, feeling his way along -the wall, until his hand touched a railing that -seemed to be part of the front stairs. He would -have to climb those stairs to reach the bedrooms. -He advanced one foot cautiously, and was just -climbing the first step, when a loose board in the -floor creaked with a sickening noise. It sounded -to the terrified boy like the crack of Doom.</p> -<p>Instantly his feet were knocked out from -under him as a heavy body leaped at him like a -football tackle, and he fell with a toppling crash -to the floor. Someone was upon him, holding -him in a resistless clutch! The wind was knocked -from his lungs, and he gagged and fought for -breath. The stabbing glare of a flashlight hit his -eyes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_165">165</div> -<p>Then the strangest event of all that strange -night happened. His unknown assailant gave a -little whistle of surprise, and broke forth into -speech. Only one word, but that word the boy’s -name.</p> -<p>“Blackie!”</p> -<p>The flashlight twisted around; the stranger was -showing it upon his own face. Blackie gasped, -and almost shrieked with relief. The person who -had captured him in that dark, lonely farmhouse -was his own tent leader, Wally Rawn!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_166">166</div> -<h2 id="c14">CHAPTER XIV -<br /><span class="small">THE SPRING-HOUSE</span></h2> -<p>“Wally! What are you doing here?”</p> -<p>Wally Rawn relaxed his iron grip and -helped Blackie to his feet. In the glow of the -flashlight the boy could see that Wally was fully-dressed -in corduroy trousers, blue flannel shirt, -and high woodsman’s boots with laces dangling. -The councilor must have thrown his clothes on in -a hurry.</p> -<p>“I might ask the same of you, Blackie,” he -said with a slight grin. “Have you become a -burglar all of a sudden?”</p> -<p>The words recalled Blackie to his mission in -the farmhouse. “Shh! Not so loud—they’re still -outside!”</p> -<p>“Who’s outside?”</p> -<p>“The two tramps! They’re the ones that -killed poor old Rattlesnake Joe, and they made -me climb in the window to steal some food for -them. The older one stabbed the dog outside so -he wouldn’t wake the house, and——”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_167">167</div> -<p>Wally pursed his lips in a low whistle. “So -that’s who shut up the dog so suddenly! The -barking woke me up, and I thought I’d prowl -around here and see what was happening. You -say these men are—murderers?”</p> -<p>“Yes—the sheriff is after them! Don’t let -them catch me again, Wally! They kicked and -beat me all the time, and wouldn’t let me have -anything to eat, and I’m scared of them!”</p> -<p>“Don’t worry—they can’t get in here. But if -the sheriff wants these men, we might have a try -at capturing them. You say they’re waiting for -you outside? Well, you might be able to get -them to bite on the hook. Are you game to take -a chance on locking them up where they belong?”</p> -<p>Blackie’s face fell. “Why, sure, I’ll try if -you help me. But how can I catch them? They’d -kill me in a minute if they thought I was giving -them away.”</p> -<p>Wally considered. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed -softly. “Listen—out there in the orchard there’s -a spring-house where the farmer’s wife keeps butter -and meat and stuff to cool. I remember it -has a strong lock on the door. If you could get -them in there, and snap the bolt on them, we -could hold them there until Kingdom Come. -It’ll be touch-and-go with you if you can’t get -them inside, but a pair like that should be under -lock and key as soon as possible. Will you try?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_168">168</div> -<p>Blackie nodded. “If you think that’s the best -way——”</p> -<p>“Good. I’ll wake up the old man, and we’ll -be on the lookout at an upstairs window to protect -you in case the scheme doesn’t work. We -can’t show ourselves or they’ll get suspicious and -we’ll never have the chance again. Now, skip -back to the kitchen—they’ll be wondering where -you went. Good luck!”</p> -<p>Wally began to tiptoe silently up the stairs, -and Blackie hastened back down the hallway to -the kitchen. On his way to the pantry window he -grabbed two or three jars of preserved vegetables -and a loaf of bread. He found Reno at the window, -almost crazy at the delay.</p> -<p>“What took ya so long, ya little fool?” he -raged under his breath. “I thought I heard -noises inside, and thought ya were bagged for -sure.”</p> -<p>Blackie handed out the jars. “I was just -looking around for grub, Mister Reno,” he said. -“There isn’t very much here—at least I can’t -find it in the dark. This is all I saw.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_169">169</div> -<p>Reno grew ferocious with anger. “Well, -that’s better than nothin’—but after all our trouble, -all ya could get was a mouthful! I’ll fix you -for this later! Come on, climb out—don’t stand -here jabberin’ all night!”</p> -<p>He helped the boy out through the narrow -window, and together they crept back to where -Lew was standing guard.</p> -<p>“Any trouble?” he asked.</p> -<p>“Aw, the brat couldn’t find enough to make -a lunch for a flea.” Reno held out the jars and -the bread. “We’ll have to try this game somewheres -else.”</p> -<p>Disgruntled, he led the way back through the -orchard toward the road. Blackie could barely -make out the white-washed side of the spring-house -to their left. He plucked Reno’s ragged -sleeve.</p> -<p>“Say, I bet that place is full of grub! Let’s -have a look!”</p> -<p>Reno turned with a sneer. “Go and see.”</p> -<p>Blackie knew that if he argued, it might breed -suspicion. He waded through the tall grass to -the low door and felt its rough face with his -hand. Sure enough; the outside bore a strong -bolt. As he opened the door, a draft of chill, -damp air came forth, mingled with the smell of -fresh cream and cheese. He stumbled in.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_170">170</div> -<p>It was the usual type of country spring-house. -In the center bubbled up a rill of icy water that -was contained in a deep stone basin, filled with -tall cans of milk. The two men, attracted by -Blackie’s easy entrance into the place, followed -him quickly, and found him busily gobbling a -generous chunk of apple pie, washing it down -with milk from a pitcher at his elbow. Hungry -as he was, however, Blackie had not lost sight of -the deed he had to do; it was part of his plan -to entice the men inside. Lew rose to the bait, -and began seizing foodstuffs with both hands; -but Reno cautiously stood square in the doorway, -covering the retreat. His mouth full, Blackie -pushed past him, stuffing cookies into his pockets.</p> -<p>“Pass the stuff out, Lew,” Reno was saying -“I’ll stick it all in our bag here.”</p> -<p>Blackie had meanwhile gained the outside, and -stood facing the back of the man in the doorway. -“Why don’t you go in too, Mister Reno?” he -asked. “You might miss something if you -don’t.”</p> -<p>Something in his tone made the man whirl -about suspiciously. “What do you mean, you -little roach? If you think you can——”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_171">171</div> -<p>Blackie saw his only chance, and took it. With -a sturdy rush, he butted against Reno’s legs. The -tramp, caught off balance, grabbed at the doorway -to right himself, and Blackie, with all the -force of his body behind it, plunged his doubled -fist into the man’s stomach. It was a lucky blow -that landed right on the solar plexus, and for a -moment Reno was paralyzed. He gave a pained -grunt and keeled backwards into Lew, who fell -over a tall milk-can and tumbled sidewise into -the pool of icy water. Before either of them -could flounder to their feet, Blackie had slammed -the strong door and shot the bolt upon his -prisoners.</p> -<p>He sat down in the trampled, dewy grass, overcome -with the reaction that sets in after a trying -period of strain and excitement. And suddenly, -without knowing why, he began to laugh, laugh -until his sides hurt, unable to stop.</p> -<p>Wally Rawn came to him on the run from the -house, carrying a long-barreled shotgun in his -hands. He tested the soundness of the lock on -the spring-house door, and then clapped Blackie -on the shoulder.</p> -<p>“Neat work, son! You’ve got them shut up -in there like a couple of sardines in a can. Say, -what’s the matter with your funny bone?”</p> -<p>“He—he looked so crazy!” gurgled the boy. -“I knocked the wind out of Reno, and he fell -over and pushed Lew into the water!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_172">172</div> -<p>From within the spring-house came an angry -racket. Reno must have scrambled to his feet -again and was shouting at the door; both men -were cursing a blue streak, and Reno was making -the most terrifying threats as to what he should -do if Blackie did not release the bolt on the instant.</p> -<p>Wally patted Blackie’s arm soothingly. -“Don’t you worry your head about that.” He -stepped to the door and called commandingly, -“Listen, you inside there! I’ve got a gun here, -and if you make one more sound I’ll wing you -both! You’re here to stay, and don’t forget it!”</p> -<p>The serious depth of his voice must have impressed -them, for they maintained a puzzled silence -while Wally strolled back to Blackie with -a cheerful smile.</p> -<p>“Guess that’ll stop their howling for a while. -Now, as I was telling you, I woke up the old -farmer—he was snoring away as peaceful as a -sheep—and now he’s telephoning to Sheriff -Manders at the Center. The sheriff will be along -in his car as soon as he can make it, and until -then I guess these birds will stay in their cage. -They’d better!” he finished grimly. “Now tell -me how you happened to be housebreaking here -in the dead of night in such bad company.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_173">173</div> -<p>Growing more calm, Blackie began his tale, relating -how on the night of the snipe hunt he had -overheard the two hoboes planning to rob the old -hermit, and how he had followed them and heard -the scuffle in the house and the scream which had -driven him to fly in horror.</p> -<p>“You should have told me or the Chief about -that,” was Wally’s only comment. “It would -have saved a lot of trouble.”</p> -<p>“I was too scared,” confessed Blackie, “and -besides it all seemed like a dream that couldn’t -be true.”</p> -<p>He told briefly how he had fallen in with the -tramps again at Black Pond, and how they had -later forced him to enter the house to plunder it. -When he had finished, Wally said nothing for a -while, but shook his head once or twice in somber -amusement.</p> -<p>“Well,” he said finally, “guess after all these -adventures you won’t mind going back to old -Lenape for a rest. I’ve come to take you back -to Tent Four.”</p> -<p>“But—how did you know where I was? Why -are you here?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_174">174</div> -<p>“I didn’t know where you were, but I had a -pretty good guess. You slipped away from -camp, and I figured it was up to me to catch you -again. The Chief sent Mr. Lane in the car toward -Elmville to look out for you along the road -to the railway, and there were quite a number of -fellows scouting around for your tracks on the -campus. I wasted some time after supper down -at the south end of the lake, thinking you might -have headed that way toward home, and it wasn’t -until this morning that I got the brilliant idea -that you would head right into the big timber for -a while. I found your trail up on the ridge, and -believe me, you hit some pretty rough going in -spots! Right in the middle of a swamp I found -a hat with your name on it, stuck in some bushes; -and then I knew my guess was right. But after -clawing my way through a regular jungle of -rhododendrons I lost your track, and naturally -thinking you would make for Newmiln, I raced -over to the Center. I had no idea you would -swing down into Black Pond.”</p> -<p>“What did you do then? Gee, you must have -been a wizard to follow me that far!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_175">175</div> -<p>“I spent the rest of the day sweeping the Flatstone -valley for traces of you; I knew that if you -had passed this way somebody must have seen -you. When I got no news, I came back over this -side and the old farmer—his name’s Jacob -Woods, and he’s a friend of mine; I brought a -group of bikers over here last year—he offered to -let me stay here to-night and to go back into the -mountain with me in the morning to look for you. -He was telling me tales of lost hunters and mysterious -accidents back in these hills until I almost -went out to look for you with a lantern. It was -just a crazy coincidence that your hobo friends -decided to pick this house for their midnight robbery—but -I’m glad I was the one that hopped -on you in the dark; somebody else might have -been rough.”</p> -<p>Blackie had been drinking in every word. -“Say, Wally,” he said, “those tramps are awful -quiet. I wonder if they’re up to anything?”</p> -<p>“We’ll see.” Wally, with his gun held at -ready, circled about the little stone building warily, -and was just in time to see Lew, the weak-chinned -younger tramp, sticking his head through -an aperture he had made by removing a stone -where the overflow from the spring found its way -out. “Get back there, you!” shouted Wally. -He pretended to aim a kick, and the startled -hobo, who had counted on tearing away the stones -and escaping by the back way, withdrew his head -so speedily that he bumped it. Wally closed the -opening with several rocks.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_176">176</div> -<p>The sound of an auto horn from the road made -Blackie jump. “That must be the sheriff!” cried -Wally. “Hi! Over this way, Mr. Manders! -Over here in the orchard!”</p> -<p>Three men came tramping across through the -grass, two of them carrying rifles. The taller of -them Blackie recognized as the man who had been -conferring with the Chief on that fateful rainy -Tuesday when he had fought with Chink and -smoked with Gallegher. It was Sheriff Manders, -and he pulled out two pairs of handcuffs while -Wally was explaining things to him. Another -man he introduced as his deputy, a rugged farmer -with red chin-whiskers showing in the light of -the lantern he carried. The third, garbed in a -pair of overalls hastily donned over his night-clothing, -proved to be Mr. Woods, owner of the -farm, who since telephoning had been watching -at the roadside to direct the officers of the law -as soon as they arrived.</p> -<p>The sheriff heard Wally to the end, and then -turned to Blackie. “You’re a real smart boy, -if what Mr. Rawn says is true. I’ll be over to -your camp-ground later and get your affidavit on -all you’ve told him; and likely you’ll be wanted -at the trial.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_177">177</div> -<p>He stamped over to the door and knocked upon -it loudly. “In the name of the law, I call upon -you to submit to arrest!”</p> -<p>When the door was flung open, two cowed and -shaken vagabonds shambled out to face the weapons -of Wally and the officers. Their short imprisonment -had broken what spirit of bravado -they possessed, and under the watchful eyes of -the law they appeared as a brace of craven and -revolting blackguards caught in the midst of -crime. They submitted to being handcuffed, and -were bundled off toward the car in short order.</p> -<p>“I’ll go with you and see these fellows safe in -jail,” volunteered Wally. “No—you won’t be -needed, Blackie; you’ve done more than your -share this night. You just trot off to bed with -Mr. Woods here, and forget all about everything.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_178">178</div> -<p>He disappeared after the two prisoners and -their guards, leaving Blackie with the aged -farmer. The latter led Blackie back to the house, -where his wife was fussing about the kitchen in a -faded red wrapper, stirring up the fire and raising -a most tantalizing smell of cooking. Mr. -Woods, with rare forbearance, did not bother -Blackie with questions, but every now and then -he caught the farmer looking at him with a puzzled -frown, shaking his head and muttering to -himself, “Wal, who would have thought it?” -His wife mothered Blackie, making him wash his -face and hands and seating him at the table, -where she piled hot food before him and watched -him gorge himself on sausage and fried potatoes, -pressing him to eat more pie and cookies until he -felt as though his eyes must be bulging with repletion. -When he could eat no more, she packed -him off upstairs to bed, and left him with a gentle -good-night. He undressed, almost dozing off -once or twice in the process, climbed into a high -four-poster bed, and lay snugly stretched out -under a brilliantly-colored old-fashioned crazy -quilt. He fell asleep as soon as his head touched -the pillow.</p> -<p>A short time later Wally returned and woke -him to say that he had seen the tramps safely -under lock and key in the jail at Newmiln Center, -and that he need not worry any more. Blackie -hardly heard the words before he was asleep -again. Wally blew out the lamp and crawled in -beside the sleeping boy, and once more all was -peaceful in the farmhouse at the foot of the -mountain.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_179">179</div> -<h2 id="c15">CHAPTER XV -<br /><span class="small">THE LAST RACE</span></h2> -<p>Blackie and Wally were up at the first -crack of dawn; it was to prove an active day -for them, and they had no mind to get a late -start. After a hearty breakfast provided by Mrs. -Woods, they took the road south on foot. The -grateful farmer offered to harness his team and -drive them back to camp, but Wally knew that -he was needed to tend his stock, and courteously -refused.</p> -<p>“We’ll take the road down the valley and over -the mountains,” explained Wally as the two -hiked side by side down the yellow road. “It’s -a bit longer than straight over the ridge, but -we’ll avoid a lot of tough going, and save time in -the long run.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_180">180</div> -<p>Blackie was not sorry to be tramping along in -Wally’s company on that bright summer morning. -His clothing had been neatly brushed and -cleaned by the farmer’s motherly wife, and his -rescued blankets were strapped over one shoulder. -The sky was a lustrous, enamelled blue; the -fields and thickets sparkled with dewdrops; and -a cheerful chorus of birds chirruped a marching -song for them. The way led down the valley of -the Flatstone, running on a wooded height above -the wandering creek. Occasionally they passed -orchards and farmhouses, lazy in the sun; once -they climbed a spur of the hills and looked down -upon a great red mill, with a plashing race of -water leaping down through the dripping teeth -of a clacking wooden wheel. Several times they -were passed by farmers driving wagons or cars, -but always they were heading the opposite way, -toward the Center; and the two hikers were not -fortunate enough to get a lift. As they went -they chatted gaily, and all the grim hours of -Blackie’s flight and bondage seemed like the half-remembered -fragments of a nightmare.</p> -<p>By ten o’clock they had reached the crossroads, -beside a steepled little schoolhouse with a yard -overgrown with weeds, and halted several minutes -before turning eastward.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_181">181</div> -<p>“This route is longer than I thought,” observed -Wally. “We’re only about half-way back -to Lenape now, and we still have the hardest part -of the journey ahead. I thought we might be -back in camp by this time. You see, to-day we -hold the big regatta and water-sports. Every -fellow in Camp Shawnee will have come down -from Iron Lake to compete with our swimmers -and divers, and I should be on hand to take the -entries and run the meet.”</p> -<p>“It’s my fault you’re not there now,” said -Blackie. “If I hadn’t run away, everything -would have been all right.”</p> -<p>“If you hadn’t run away, two desperate characters -wouldn’t be in jail to-day, facing trial for -murder,” pointed out the leader. “That’s the -way of the world—there’s no situation so bad -that courage and brainwork can’t mend it, and -many a bad start has ended with a whirlwind -finish.”</p> -<p>“Then if I hadn’t told a lie in camp, I -wouldn’t have been kangarooed and would never -have left, and would never have found Lew and -Reno up in the mountains. But all the same, I’m -done with lying—forever.”</p> -<p>“That’s a peach of a resolution to make,” -agreed Wally. “Lying is either cowardly or -silly, and a Lenape camper doesn’t want to be -either. And now let’s be off; we won’t get back -to camp just by talking about it.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_182">182</div> -<p>He leaped to his feet and they trudged off up -the mountain road at a smart pace. Blackie’s -short legs had some difficulty in matching the -mile-devouring stride of the councilor, but he -did not complain, although it had grown exceedingly -hot and dusty, and it seemed as if the succession -of ridges across which they passed would -never end. Each time they would surmount a -summit, Blackie told himself that it must be the -last; and each time he would find another belt of -road stretching on ahead and another ridge to -cross. A little after noon they sighted a fine-looking -farm in the center of the hills, and on the -shady porch sat a red-cheeked man with drooping -mustaches. He was clinking out a lively tune on -a banjo, but dropped the instrument when he saw -them approach, and called out a cheery hail.</p> -<p>“Hi, Mr. Rawn! Ain’t seen you sence last -year! Come on in and talk things over—the old -woman’ll lay a couple extra dishes for dinner. It -ain’t often we have the honor of company for -meals, and we like to make the most of them!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_183">183</div> -<p>Wally accepted the invitation, and after he -and Blackie washed the dust from their faces, -they sat on the porch and chatted with the farmer -until the smoking hot meal was served. The -leader was impatient to be off, but the pleasure -of the farmer and his wife at having visitors was -so great that it was some time before he could -break away. The dinner was leisurely and -abundant, and afterwards nothing would do but -they must chat with the garrulous farmer about -every subject he could think of, from hog cholera -to philosophy; and he insisted on playing his -entire stock of old country tunes on his banjo -before they finally parted.</p> -<p>“It’s not far now,” said Wally as they again -took the road. “The last ridge is only about a -mile ahead.”</p> -<p>This cheered the plodding Blackie a little, but -all the same it seemed as if that mile was the longest -in the world. At last they reached the summit, -and instead of another dreary stretch ahead -they were rewarded with an exhilarating prospect -of the lake below and the flat countryside -beyond in the direction of Elmville. As they -paused to get their breath, a bugle call trilled up -to them from the lodge.</p> -<p>“Come down and wash your dirty neck——” -sang Wally, keeping time to the trumpet-call. -“He’s sounding Swim Call. That means they -must be starting the swimming meet! Hurry, -Blackie—it must be at least two o’clock; everybody -will be streaking down to the dock. See -that bunch of fellows over in the baseball field? -That must be the gang from Camp Shawnee.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_184">184</div> -<p>The two broke into a run which took them past -the spring and down to the signal tower. Here -they left the road, which bent at right angles, -and plunged down the hillside through the green -woods, following the trail beside the pipe-line. -Inside of twenty minutes they were stumbling -into Tent Four, where they sat on their bunks -to catch their breaths.</p> -<p>They found the tent rows deserted; evidently -every camper was assembled down beside the -lake. Wally recovered his breath first, and urged -by the necessity of going on duty at the dock, -slipped out of his clothes and into his swimming -suit. Blackie, after five minutes’ rest, began to -undress slowly.</p> -<p>“You’re not so crazy for a swim you want to -hustle right down now, are you?” asked Wally in -surprise. “You better take a nap, son.”</p> -<p>Blackie shook his head. “I’ve got to get in the -meet, Wally! It’s my last chance—you know I -have to leave camp to-morrow; I’m only signed -up for the first two weeks. And you’ve put in a -lot of time teaching me the Australian crawl -stroke, and I want to show what I can do in a -real swimming meet. Will you enter me in the -distance swims and the high dive?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_185">185</div> -<p>The councilor grinned. “You sure are a glutton -for punishment! I wouldn’t think, after the -last couple of days, you’d have steam enough left -for swimming contests! But I admire your -gameness, and I’ll sure put your name down.” -He buttoned the strap on his bathing suit, thrust -his feet into a pair of tennis shoes, and dashed off -down the path toward the dock, from the direction -of which came a confused babble of shouting -and cheering. The swimming meet was already -in full swing.</p> -<p>Blackie went down to the lake only a few minutes -later, meeting no one on his way. The boat -dock and the shore were lined with swimmers and -spectators; about a hundred of them were strange -boys and leaders, wearing the red arrowhead of -Camp Shawnee, who had hiked down from Iron -Lake to accept Lenape hospitality for the day -and contest Lenape superiority in the water. The -life-saving boats were stationed further out than -usual, and Wally Rawn, with a whistle about his -neck and papers and a megaphone in his hands, -was stationed on the upper deck of the tower, -directing the events, assisted by the chiefs of the -two camps.</p> -<p>The first person Blackie encountered as he -stepped on the dock was Ken Haviland. The -aide gave him a stare of contempt.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_186">186</div> -<p>“Humph!” he snorted. “So you came crawling -back to camp just as I knew you would! -Well, you might just as well have stayed away. -What’s the idea of the bathing suit? You needn’t -think we want a fellow like you to represent us -against Shawnee.”</p> -<p>“Wally has entered me in the meet,” said -Blackie stoutly. “You shouldn’t kick if he -thinks it’s all right.”</p> -<p>“Wally’s running the meet, and what he says -goes,” admitted Ken grudgingly, “but as far as -the campers are concerned, you don’t count.” -He turned away, refusing to speak further.</p> -<p>“Third event—underwater swim, junior -class!” came Wally’s voice through the megaphone. -The six contestants, three from each -camp, lined up at the end of the dock and when -the whistle sounded took off with flat racing -dives. The spectators cheered as the boys hit -the water; and the wearers of the arrowhead gave -a happy yell as their contenders took first and -third places. Steffins of Lenape ran a close second -with a fast breast-stroke.</p> -<p>“What’s the score now?” Blackie asked the -boy next to him. It was Slim Yerkes, and he favored -Blackie with a stare.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_187">187</div> -<p>“I’d keep quiet if I were you,” he said. -“Don’t forget you’re still on the blacklist around -here.” He moved off, and Blackie sat down -weakly on a rock on shore. He had hoped that -by this time the edict of the Kangaroo Court had -been forgotten and that he could once more speak -freely with his comrades; but since his return not -one of them had spoken to him in friendship or -asked about his adventures.</p> -<p>He did not try to talk with anyone again, but -sat where he was and watched the progress of the -swimming meet with dull eyes. The Shawnee -team was a good one; a red-headed, slightly-built -lad named Lawrence took honors in the junior -class in diving, winning several first places in -the form and fancy events, and a husky kid whom -his Shawnee camp-mates called “Hobo” starred -in the sprints. They both helped to give Lenape -the worst of it, and at the end of the junior contest -the score was Shawnee, 37; Lenape, 23.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_188">188</div> -<p>Blackie caught sight of Irish Gallegher among -the groups on shore, but did not want to speak -to him. The senior diving events were now -called, and Blackie answered to his name among -those competing in high-diving. There were -about seven contestants entered from each camp, -and every entrant was entitled to three dives. -They assembled on the upper dock platform, -where a runway and springboard jutted out over -the end of the piers. In this event Lenape, -thanks to Wally’s careful training, was in its -glory and took all three places. Steve Link, who -was a member of the life-saving crew, took first; -Blackie, in spite of his weariness, won second; -and Terry Tompkins came third. Blackie had -conquered his tired muscles and performed a very -creditable back jack-knife dive, but not one of -his team-mates shook his hand or dropped him a -“Well done!” Disgruntled, he retired to his -place on the rock and watched the Lenape team -slowly shorten the difference in score as the -senior events progressed.</p> -<p>The “funny dive” came last of all, and was -won by Fat Crampton, the pudgy lion-hunter. -He had been entered at the last moment by the -joke-loving Sax McNulty, and his victory came -as a surprise to everybody, but most of all to Fat -himself. He had timidly approached the board, -for he was not used to diving in any form; and -while he stood at the end debating with himself -what to do, his foot slipped and he toppled heels -over head into the water. His arms became entangled -in his legs as he fell, and he came up with -such a pop-eyed, startled look on his puffy face -that the judges immediately awarded him the -blue ribbon, although he had to be pulled out by -a delegation of volunteer life-savers.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_189">189</div> -<p>The diving events in the senior class were finished, -and the score stood somewhat closer, with -Lenape standing 42 against Shawnee’s 48. -Wally summoned the contestants in the fifty-yard -dash, in which Blackie had not entered, -wishing to save all his power for the more demanding -distance events. A rangy, sandy-haired -youth with the emblem of the Junior Red Cross -on his jersey stepped forward and was hailed by -a volley of cheers from the wearers of the red. -“Dunning! Show ’em how to do it, Dunning!” -He was evidently their champion, and he had a -confident smile on his face which might betoken -bad news for the Lenape supporters.</p> -<p>As a matter of fact, Dunning did win the fifty-yard -with ease, although his triumph was offset by -Link and Gil Shelton, who took second and third -places for the Lenape side of the score. The -representatives of the green and white also took -first and second in the underwater swim, making -the tally read Shawnee, 52; Lenape, 50, with only -three more events yet to be contested.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_190">190</div> -<p>“Hundred-yard swim!” came Wally’s voice -hoarsely through the megaphone. “Shawnee -team—Dunning, Coombes, Lipsky; Lenape -team—Haviland, Link, Thorne!”</p> -<p>Blackie rose and walked stiffly to the end of -the dock; he was more tired than he had thought, -for no boy can hike with a heavy pack through -mountain roads for seven hours and still hope -to be fresh and springy in a gruelling distance -swim the same afternoon. He lined up with the -six contenders, between the confident Dunning -and Ken Haviland. The latter twisted his mouth -when he saw Blackie beside him.</p> -<p>“Still trying, huh? Well, let me tell you, -Thorne, I’d rather lose the meet than have a fellow -like you help to win it—and every fellow in -Lenape thinks the same!”</p> -<p>Blackie said nothing, but a red tide of resentment -climbed to his brain. So that was what they -thought of him! But at least they couldn’t say -he was a quitter; he would do his best in spite of -what any of them said! He clamped his jaw, -and stared out over the sparkling waters of the -lake, over the course that had been marked out by -two of the life-boats, trying to recall everything -that Wally had taught him about the crawl-stroke—trudgeon -kick, powerful overhand pull -with the arms, measured breathing once in four -strokes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_191">191</div> -<p>“Ready—set——”</p> -<p>The shrill purl of the starter’s whistle sounded, -and six lithe bodies cleaved the water. Blackie, -full of anger and determination, put every ounce -of his waning strength into his strokes, fighting -to keep his head and time his muscles scientifically. -He did not dare look around to see how -the other contestants were coming, although he -was aware of a sandy head driving through the -water a little to his left and half a length ahead. -The course seemed short, but a stiff hundred-yard -swim will try the power of even a swimmer in the -best of training. He headed for the line stretched -between the two boats, his arms moving over his -head in a steady rhythm that kept time with the -beat of his legs, his face buried in cool bubbling -water. He’d show them! Summoning up his -last straining ounce of power, he spurted to win -ahead of the swimmer to his left, and passed him -just as the shadow of the life-saving boat fell -upon their faces.</p> -<p>“Thorne wins!” came the voice of one of the -judges from the boat. “Dunning second, -Coombes third!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_192">192</div> -<p>There was an uneasy silence among the Lenape -supporters, but after half a minute there -rose a belated cheer from the wearers of the red -arrowhead, who were disappointed that their favorite -had not won, but who consoled themselves -with the thought that Shawnee was still in the -lead.</p> -<p>Blackie took his time paddling back to the -dock. He did not expect congratulations for his -victory; but he was now beyond the stage of -caring. All he had wanted to do was to show -Ken Haviland that he was game; and the taunts -of the aide had given Blackie just that extra -ounce of vitality that had enabled him to spurt -ahead of Dunning. He climbed unassisted to -the dock, and stood watching the next event, -breathing deeply to get his wind in preparation -for the concluding event of the meet, the two-hundred-yard -swim that was the most demanding -of all contests upon the grit and capabilities of -the racer.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_193">193</div> -<p>Some thirty boys were lined up for the next -contest, a free-for-all marathon over a triangular -course that led around two boats stationed some -yards apart in front of the dock; and at the summons -of the whistle there ensued a scrambling -battle-royal for places in the water. Most of the -bunch dropped out before the first boat was -reached, but among the remaining swimmers -there was a desperate contest to see who would -touch the wharf first. The Lenape cohorts broke -into mad cheers when they found that their entrants -in this helter-skelter marathon had placed -first and third, and the yells of all the spectators -grew and swelled out over the water when it was -found that the tallies for the last two events had -brought the score to a dead tie, with 57 points -for each camp.</p> -<p>The excitement was at fever heat as the contenders -lined up for the final event of the afternoon’s -sport, the two-hundred-yard swim. The -entries were almost the same as for the shorter -distance, except that Link had been replaced by -Soapy Mullins. Dunning, somewhat crestfallen, -eyed Blackie with a vengeful air, as if resolved -to wipe out the memory of his previous defeat. -Coombes, who had placed third in the hundred-yard -event, looked pale and tired. Blackie stole -a look at Ken Haviland, who was again ranged -at his side, but the aide paid no attention. Blackie -saw him feeling the right side of his abdomen -tenderly, and thought he caught Ken making a -slight grimace of pain; but the signal for ready -came at that moment, and Ken straightened his -body and gritted his teeth as the starter put his -whistle to his lips.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_194">194</div> -<p>Brr-r-r-r! The six racers took the water and -the gruelling contest began, with two hundred -pairs of eyes fastened upon their shining muscles, -sleek heads, and straining bodies. The last race—the -race upon which depended the camp championship -of the season, the victory of the green -and white or the red arrowhead! No wonder the -air was filled with cheers and shouts of encouragement! -Once or twice Blackie caught the -sound of his own name rising from that bedlam -of excited watchers. He smiled to himself, filled -with a great elation. He had whipped Dunning -before, and knew he could do it again. Turning -his head with a jerk, he saw that Coombes was -already out of the race, had dropped behind, too -exhausted to continue. Beside Blackie, the -speedy Dunning whipped through the water, followed -by Ken Haviland and Soapy Mullins and -closely pursued by Lipsky. It was to be a close -race, in spite of the distance.</p> -<p>Onward Blackie Thorne churned his way, -tossing diamond-like drops from his hair as he -surged through the water. Ahead he could see -the dipping life-boats that marked the end of the -journey. Tie score—if he nosed Dunning out -for first place, it was almost a sure thing that one -of the other Lenape contenders would finish -ahead of the slow-going Lipsky, and end the -meet with a slender lead of two points that -would, however, give Lenape the day.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_195">195</div> -<p>Ken Haviland was shooting ahead, and was -now close on the flailing legs of Dunning. -Blackie, with his eyes on the goal, was slowly but -surely increasing his half-length lead over the -Shawnee favorite, when he heard a low cry that -made him turn his head and halt his even stroke.</p> -<p>Ken was in trouble. His pallid face was twisting -with pain, and his arms floated helplessly at -his side. “Blackie!” he gasped. “Cramps! I’m -done——”</p> -<p>Dunning forged ahead, either not hearing of -Haviland’s plight or else, still smarting from his -defeat, determined that nothing should interfere -to lose him this last and decisive race. Blackie -held his stroke, and Dunning caught up with him -in an instant.</p> -<p>For only a split second did Blackie hesitate. -Two voices seemed to be shouting in his ears at -the same time, arguing against each other.</p> -<p>“Ken is out of it, but there’s still a good -chance that Mullins will beat Lipsky for third. -Go ahead and win!” counselled the first.</p> -<p>“But Ken has cramps—he’ll drown if you -don’t help him!” contended the other voice.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_196">196</div> -<p>“He hates you—don’t throw away your big -chance to win just on his account! He said himself -he’d rather lose the meet than have you win!”</p> -<p>“No, he’s sick! He needs you!”</p> -<p>A clock was ticking somewhere in his brain, -ticking off the fractions of seconds in which he -must make up his mind what to do. Already -Dunning was beyond him, plowing determinedly -for the goal. Blackie made his decision. In a -few speedy strokes he was by Ken’s side.</p> -<p>“I’ll hold you up—don’t struggle!” he -shouted in the aide’s ear, and put forth a supporting -arm. Ken’s face was blanched and torn -with pain, and he floundered about helplessly, -the muscles of his limbs knotted in paralyzing -lumps, his abdomen gripped with shooting pangs. -Blackie knew that he must be very sick indeed.</p> -<p>Soapy Mullins passed them some yards to their -right, followed by Lipsky trailing unsteadily in -his wake.</p> -<p>“Take it easy!” said Blackie. “Don’t get -scared! It’ll pass off soon.”</p> -<p>Of a sudden Ken’s muscles relaxed, and he -found he could move his arms and support himself -somewhat. “What happened?” he gasped. -“Did they stop the race?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_197">197</div> -<p>A voice through a megaphone from the boats -answered his question. “Dunning wins! Mullins, -second; Lipsky, third. Shawnee wins the -meet—score, 61 to 59!”</p> -<p>From the shore came the wild hurrahs of the -victors, and a sportsmanlike cheer from the Lenape -campers for those who had vanquished them. -In the excitement of the race, few of the watchers -had noticed that Blackie had gone to the aid of -Ken, and most of them had assumed that the two -had merely dropped out, overcome by the cruel -demands of the contest.</p> -<p>Ken’s face was a blank. “But—but that’s not -fair! We ought to run the race over again—you -would have won easy if you hadn’t come to help -me, Blackie!”</p> -<p>Blackie shook his head. “The meet’s over. No -use kicking up a fuss and having the Shawnee -bunch think we’re a gang of poor sports who -start crabbing when they lose. It’s our hard -luck, and we might as well take our medicine. If -you feel better now, come on and I’ll tow you -over to the boat.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_198">198</div> -<h2 id="c16">CHAPTER XVI -<br /><span class="small">THE END—AND THE BEGINNING</span></h2> -<p>The campers from Iron Lake departed -northwards about five o’clock in holiday -mood, singing their camp song as they hiked, -more than contented to have won the close-fought -victory in the water. Some of the Lenape tribe -accompanied them a mile or two on the road, and -were forced to swallow a lot of good-natured -chaffing about their defeat, which they felt -keenly.</p> -<p>Blackie did not go with them. He had helped -Ken Haviland ashore, and seen him carried off -toward the hospital tent and the ministrations of -Dr. Cannon; and then he returned to Tent Four -and dressed in a clean outfit. He was agreeably -tired, but the swim had braced him immensely, -and he was comfortable in body for the first time -since he had run away. His mind was far from -easy, however, as he answered the bugle’s summons -and stood Retreat ceremony with the tent -groups. He was still in coventry; not a boy -spoke to him, and many were the black looks cast -in his direction.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_199">199</div> -<p>It was the same at supper. Wally presided -over a quiet table that night. Gallegher sat -gloomily next to the vacant chair that belonged -to Ken Haviland. Fat Crampton, with his usual -good humor, was attacking his food with gusto, -rather pleased with himself for winning a first -place in the diving; Guppy and Lefkowitz chattered -together now and then; but Slater could not -forget how easily Lenape might have held the -championship had things been a little different.</p> -<p>Once Guppy turned to Slater and said, “Gee, -that fellow Dunning wasn’t any slouch of a -swimmer, was he?”</p> -<p>“He was pretty good, all right—but he would -have been beaten in that last race if a certain guy—I -won’t mention any names—wasn’t yellow. -It would have won us the meet, too.” Slater -looked meaningly at Blackie, who flushed and -gazed down at his plate, biting his lip to keep -back a bitter retort.</p> -<p>After the dessert, Wally leaned over to -Blackie. “The Chief wants to see you in his -office, son,” he said, “right after supper. He’s -got a friend of yours in there with him now.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_200">200</div> -<p>“All right, Wally.” Blackie knew who that -friend of his was; a saddled horse was tethered -outside that could belong to no one but Sheriff -Manders. When the dismissal signal was given, -he went over to the office door with a pounding -heart, and entered at the Chief’s cheery invitation.</p> -<p>The Chief nodded as he saw Blackie. “Come -in, Thorne. You’ve met Sheriff Manders, I hear. -He’s ridden over to get your affadavit against the -two men who attacked Rattlesnake Joe. Just -tell him slowly everything that happened, and -don’t keep anything back.”</p> -<p>The sheriff had paper and pen before him, and -with a gentle kindliness asked Blackie many questions, -writing down the boy’s answers in a round, -careless hand. The Chief said no word, but listened -with increasing attention as the tale of -Blackie’s adventures was unfolded. When the -officer pronounced himself satisfied, he looked -over at the Chief with a quizzical air.</p> -<p>“Kind of a lot of trouble for a kid his size to -get into, eh? Well, you’ve helped the state to -prosecute a pair of brutal criminals, young -Thorne, and I think I may venture to say -that——”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_201">201</div> -<p>The Chief cut in on his speech. “We won’t -talk about that now, Mr. Manders, if you don’t -mind.”</p> -<p>“Just as you say. Well, I’ll be going now. -Thank you both. ’Night!” He stamped out of -the office.</p> -<p>Blackie made no move to leave, but cleared his -throat huskily. He had the most distasteful task -in the world before him, the job of admitting that -he was a coward who had sought to shield himself -from punishment behind a lie.</p> -<p>“Chief, I—I want to tell you something.”</p> -<p>“Go ahead, Blackie.” The Chief’s face betrayed -nothing of what he might be thinking. -“They say that confession is good for the soul.”</p> -<p>“I lied to you the other night. I was with -Gallegher when he broke the camp rule against -smoking, and I smoked too. I’m sorry I lied, -and I’m willing to take my punishment.”</p> -<p>“You know what that means?”</p> -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> -<p>“All right. You can go now.”</p> -<p>The Chief nodded that the affair was ended for -the present, and Blackie left the little office. He -had done it. A great load was lifted from his -heart; he had confessed like a man, and things -were understood between the Chief and himself. -However painful might be the outcome, at least -he had cleared away the black stain on his conscience.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_202">202</div> -<p>A busy crew of stage-hands was arranging -the lodge in the semblance of a theater, for that -night was to be given the musical show, “Coo-Coo,” -in which Sax McNulty and an imposing -troupe of camp talent were to perform for the -amusement of the campers, a few visitors from -the city, and some neighboring farmers. As -Blackie passed out to the porch, it was just growing -dusk. From the lake he could hear laughter -and shouts of gaiety; in spite of the afternoon’s -defeat it was to be a night of merriment. Chinese -lanterns gleamed from the dock, which was -crowded with campers dressed in masquerade -regalia; boat-loads of boys in costumes ranging -from African wild-man to pirate were rowing -about amidst song and fun-making, watching a -canoe-tilting contest, at the end of which one -crew or another would be pushed over with a long -bamboo pole and precipitated into the water. -Blackie turned away and headed for the hospital -tent. There was little happiness in his heart, and -he did not wish to be reminded of the gaiety of -others.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_203">203</div> -<p>Ken Haviland was sitting up in bed when he -arrived, and invited him in with a voice that -showed he had quite recovered from the mishap -of the swimming race. “Sit down here on the -bed, Blackie,” he said. “The Doc filled me up -with hot water and ginger, and I’m as well as -ever, only he won’t let me get up. It’s too bad, -because I feel fine, and don’t want to miss the -big show.”</p> -<p>“That’s great, Ken.”</p> -<p>“What’s the matter? You look about as -happy as a corpse.”</p> -<p>“Aw, the guys in the tent are still jumping on -me because I didn’t win the last race. Slater -called me yellow at supper, and all the others -thought I was, too.”</p> -<p>“Did they? Well, soon as I get out of here, -I’ll fix that! Wait till they hear what really -happened; they’ll be sorry they didn’t have better -sense. By the way, I’m passing around the word -that the Kangaroo Court decision is all off, and -we’ve forgotten all about it. I’m sorry for what -I’ve been thinking of you all along.”</p> -<p>“I deserved it, Ken. I’ve been just a fresh -kid ever since I hit camp—I see it all now. I—I -guess the gang will be glad to see me go back -to the city to-morrow.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_204">204</div> -<p>Ken leaned forward, and put his hand on -Blackie’s shoulder. “Don’t you think it! You’ve -only been here two weeks, but you’ve done a lot -for Lenape. I don’t know what the Chief thinks, -but as soon as Doc Cannon lets me out of here, -the bunch is going to find out what kind of a hero -you really are!”</p> -<p>“The Chief knows,” said Blackie dully. “He’s -going to square up with me in the morning.”</p> -<p>Blackie left the tent thinking of what the -morning would be sure to bring, and in a dejected -mood went down to Tent Four. It was dark and -deserted; the whole camp was now assembled in -the lodge, from which came down to him the -lively strains of music from the camp orchestra, -the overture of the show. The happiness of the -campers only emphasized his pangs of loneliness, -and he slowly donned pajamas and climbed into -his bunk. The strain of the day soon proved too -much for him, and lulled by the music, he drifted -off to sleep, from which he did not waken when -his tent-mates tumbled into their bunks when Call -to Quarters sounded at eleven o’clock.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_205">205</div> -<p>Blackie woke in the misty dawn the next morning, -and softly, so as not to wake his slumbering -tent-mates, dressed in his city clothes and began -packing his blankets and stuffing his camping-kit -into his sea-bag. To-day he would leave Lenape, -leave the lake and the hills and go back to the -hot city. Well, that was the only thing to do. -He was in bad with the boys and the Chief, he -told himself; he had failed in almost everything -he had attempted to do. After two weeks of the -Lenape life, he was not any better a camper than -when he first landed in Tent Four. True, he had -won his honor emblem, but that was sure to be -stripped from him. He wore it on his jersey still, -buttoned under his coat; but he knew that he had -no better right to wear it than Gallegher had, -as everyone would soon discover.</p> -<p>Reveille blew before he had finished his packing, -and he continued making ready for departure -while the pajama crew went down for Indian -dip. He noticed that about a dozen other -boys, who were also leaving at the end of the first -section, were also getting into their unaccustomed -travelling clothes and stowing their camp things -into suitcases and bags. By the time Assembly -sounded, Blackie was ready to leave for the station -at a moment’s notice.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_206">206</div> -<p>He lined up with his comrades before the flagpole. -All during the ceremony of flag salute and -while the buglers were trumpeting Call to Colors, -his nervousness increased. He dreaded what was -coming; it was worse than a trip to the dentist. -The Chief was sure to speak this morning. In -a few moments he would be disgraced before all -the campers. He looked toward the end of the -line hastily. Little Pete Lister was standing -there with his drum strapped about his neck.</p> -<p>“Attention!” came the Chief’s command. He -stood with dignified sternness before them, and -the files straightened.</p> -<p>“Blackie Thorne, five paces forward!”</p> -<p>There was a stir among the campers as Blackie -marched forward with chin up, arms at his side, -and a set face. They, too, guessed what was -coming now.</p> -<p>“I wish I hadn’t said he was yellow yesterday,” -whispered Slater behind his hand. “That -kid’s got nerve!”</p> -<p>“He sure has!” responded Gallegher. “I -know what he feels like now, and believe me, it’s -no joke! But it was all my fault—I really -dragged him into it.”</p> -<p>“Silence in the ranks! Blackie Thorne, you -have admitted to me that you have been guilty -of conduct unbecoming to a Lenape camper, and -have signified your willingness to abide by whatever -punishment is inflicted. Is that right?”</p> -<p>Blackie flushed, but looked his Chief straight -in the eye. “Yes, sir.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_207">207</div> -<p>“You will here, in the sight of all your comrades, -be stripped of the honor emblem which has -been made unworthy by your act.”</p> -<p>Blackie braced himself, waiting; the Chief -stepped forward with the blade of a knife gleaming -in his hand. Now it was coming! He felt -the Chief pulling away his coat and cutting the -stitches of the green and white badge. The clattering -tattoo from Lister’s drum was in his ears. -The Chief stepped backward, putting away the -knife. Now it was all over. Blackie made a -move to return to his place in line.</p> -<p>“Stay where you are, Thorne!”</p> -<p>The campers started with surprise; they had -not anticipated this. Blackie waited, expecting -some further reprimand.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_208">208</div> -<p>“I still have another duty to do,” announced -the Chief evenly. “But first I want to tell a -story which some of you may have read in a book -by Victor Hugo, a book called ‘Ninety-Three.’ -It tells there of an incident which happened on -board a French warship. Through the carelessness -of the chief gunner, one of the huge cannons -on the deck broke away from its chains, and -pitched about by the rough sea, rolled from one -end of the ship to the other like a monstrous -metal battering-ram on wheels, killing many -sailors who could not get out of its way, smashing -the other cannons that were to defend the -ship from the enemy, and battering the timbers -until the vessel was in danger of sinking. It -seemed impossible for the brutal rushes of the -gun to be checked; but one man, armed only with -a handspike and a rope, jumped down on the deck -and struggled to halt its mad career. It was the -chief gunner, the man who was to blame for the -deadly danger to the ship and her crew; and after -a superhuman battle in which he nearly lost his -life, he succeeded in overturning the cannon -and lashing it so that it could do no further -harm.”</p> -<p>The Chief paused a moment. Blackie was listening -in a daze, wondering what this tale could -have to do with him.</p> -<p>“When all was safe again,” continued the -Chief, “the gunner was brought to be judged by -the general who commanded the ship. The general -first pinned upon the gunner’s jacket the -cross of St. Louis, the medal for military merit, -as an award for his bravery in capturing the cannon. -He then ordered the man to be shot because -his negligence had endangered the ship. The -gunner was executed with the cross of honor on -his breast, rewarded for his courage and punished -for failing in his duty.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_209">209</div> -<p>Again the Chief paused; the boys looked at -each other wonderingly.</p> -<p>“Sooner or later all of us get our just rewards -for what we make of ourselves, as that wise general -knew. Blackie Thorne broke a camp rule, -told a lie to escape punishment, and ran away -from camp rather than face the consequences of -his act. But when you hear what other deeds he -has done, you may agree that he has wiped out -some of the counts against him. Yesterday he -threw away the glory of winning the swimming -meet for his camp in order to go to the assistance -of a stricken tent-mate, a boy whom he disliked; -and afterwards he did not mention anything -about his reason for dropping out of the race, -fearing to be a poor sportsman. The winning of -even a contest against Shawnee is, in my opinion, -nothing to be compared with the display of -bravery shown by Blackie in the water yesterday -afternoon.”</p> -<p>A cheer rose from the campers, involuntarily -bursting forth from their lips. Excitement ran -high. Blackie listened, abashed by this sudden -turn of favor.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_210">210</div> -<p>“Blackie was again put to the test when he encountered -a pair of dangerous criminals who were -wanted by the law. With courage and discernment, -he captured those men at great risk to -himself. Now, although he did not know about -it, there was a reward offered for the person who -led to the arrest of these malefactors, and last -night the sheriff brought over to me a check for -three thousand dollars, which I am now presenting -to Blackie Thorne.”</p> -<p>The Chief was unable to speak further; his -words were drowned in a torrent of cheers that -made the mountains echo. Somehow the command -to march was given, and the hungry horde -stamped off to breakfast, still shouting Blackie’s -name to the skies.</p> -<p>Blackie stood bewildered, clutching the check -in his hand. Three thousand dollars! Wally, -who had left the line, put his arm around the -boy’s shoulder and looked down into his face.</p> -<p>“How do you like being rich, Blackie?” he -laughed. “Does it feel funny at first?”</p> -<p>“It sure does!” exclaimed Blackie. “Say, -when I think how happy my mother will be when -I tell her I can buy lots of things we couldn’t -have before, I——”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_211">211</div> -<p>“Don’t trouble to explain. By the way, when -the Chief told me about this check last night, I -sent a telegram off to your mother asking her -if you could stay for the rest of the season if she -didn’t have to pay any more money. I didn’t -break the news about your reward to her—you -can do that yourself—but just a little while ago -I got a wire from her, and she agrees that you can -stay at Lenape clear up to September! Six -weeks more of camp for you, Blackie—how does -that sound?”</p> -<p>“Great!” There was a lump in the boy’s -throat as he looked out over the campus he -had come to love. Six weeks more of free, out-door -comradeship with Wally and the Chief and -the whole gang of good fellows! “Say, Wally, -remember how you told me one day that there -was a treasure around here?” He looked down -at the check in his hand. “I didn’t believe you -then, but I do now.”</p> -<p>“Blackie,” his councilor assured him solemnly, -“you found that treasure right in your own heart—the -rich treasure of true Lenape spirit!”</p> -<p class="tbcenter"><span class="small">THE END</span></p> -<h2 id="tn">Transcriber’s Notes</h2><ul><li>Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.</li> -<li>Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.</li> -<li>In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)</li></ul> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape, by Carl Saxon - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKIE THORNE AT CAMP LENAPE *** - -***** This file should be named 51539-h.htm or 51539-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/5/3/51539/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -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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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: Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape - -Author: Carl Saxon - -Release Date: March 23, 2016 [EBook #51539] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKIE THORNE AT CAMP LENAPE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - BLACKIE THORNE - AT CAMP LENAPE - - - CARL SAXON - - _Author of - "The Mystery at Camp Lenape"_ - - [Illustration: Logo] - - - BOOKS, INC. - NEW YORK BOSTON - - COPYRIGHT 1940, 1931 BY BOOKS, INC. - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - _For - BILL SIMMONS - companion of tent and trail_ - - - - - CONTENTS - - - I. Tent Four 7 - II. The Councilor 17 - III. After Taps 30 - IV. A Hard Case 39 - V. Treasure 53 - VI. The Hermit's House 59 - VII. Initiation 69 - VIII. The Snipe Hunt 81 - IX. A Rainy Day 97 - X. The Lie 111 - XI. Kangaroo Court 123 - XII. The Hut on Black Pond 135 - XIII. Robbery by Night 150 - XIV. The Spring-House 166 - XV. The Last Race 179 - XVI. The End--and the Beginning 198 - - - - - BLACKIE THORNE AT - CAMP LENAPE - - - - - CHAPTER I - TENT FOUR - - - "We've been working on the ra-a-ailroad - All the livelong day----" - -Two enormous hay-wains, full and running over with a tumbling mass of -boys, turned a bend in the narrow country road. - -Blackie Thorne was the foremost boy on the first wagon. He clambered up -on the narrow seat with so much eagerness to view the camp and the lake -that he almost knocked over the stolid farmer who was driving the team. -His first view of camp! - -There it lay on the wooded slope above the shining lake and the boat -dock, a large white lodge with a flag floating lazily above it, and two -rows of canvas tents lost among trees to the right but showing clearly -against the gray mountains beyond, with their heavy covering of tall -pines sticking up like spikes along the skyline. Camp Lenape, where the -wonderful things his friends told about had happened. Why, anything -might happen in such a marvelous place as the camp which grew nearer -every minute as the slow horses plodded their way along the dusty road! - -Blackie squirmed with excitement and jerked his arm so that it hit the -head of the driving farmer and knocked his wide straw hat down over his -eyes. - -"Here now, sonny!" spluttered the man, grabbing at his hat and almost -falling off the board which served as a seat. "If you're a-goin' to get -so het up about seein' this camp-ground of yourn, you better get out and -walk!" - -"A good idea!" exclaimed a fellow standing just behind Blackie, holding -himself up in the jolting wagon by a hand on Blackie's shoulder. He was -Gil Shelton, patrol-leader in Blackie's troop back in the city, and a -"three-striper" who wore on his camp sweater three green chevrons to -show that he had been at Lenape for as many seasons. "What do you say, -Blackie? If we hop off now, we can follow the trail through the woods -and beat the rest into camp." - -The trail led around the end of the lake, down through a meadow dotted -with daisies and buttercups, and on again into the deepening shadow of -the pines and birches. - -They panted as they ran up a short hill, and came out in a little -cleared space among the scrub-pines. - -"Wait a minute, can't you?" gasped Blackie. "What's the use of killing -ourselves?" - -Gil snorted. "Does that little run make you tired? Wait until you've -been here at camp a week, and a trot like this will seem so slow you'll -think you're going backwards." Nevertheless he stopped and threw himself -on the soft ground, and Blackie gratefully followed his example. - -"How far are we from camp now?" - -"Oh, about a quarter of a mile, I guess. Don't worry, little one, you'll -get there before dark." He pointed his grass-stem, toward the hills, -where the sun was dropping, a ball of red fire in the west. "The Indian -council ring is over that way. We'll have a pow-wow there to-morrow -night, I guess." - -Blackie's eyes followed in the indicated direction, but his attention -was immediately claimed by a fan-shaped formation of gray rocks on the -side of the western mountains. His dark eyebrows raised, and he -whistled. "Hey, Gil, what's that?" - -"What's what?" - -"That pile of rocks there--are they rocks?" - -"That's a terminal moraine. Now, ask me another." - -"A what?" - -"Terminal moraine, dummy." - -"Well, who put it there?" - -"Say," exclaimed Gil with disgust, "if you listened to the scoutmaster's -talks instead of skylarking around at troop meetings and stealing Fat -Crampton's hat, you'd learn not to be so ignorant. A terminal moraine is -a pile of rocks brought down by a glacier in the days when all the part -of the world north of here was covered with ice. You've heard of the -Glacial Age, haven't you? Well, when the ice moved down from the North -Pole it pushed a lot of rocks ahead of it, right over the ground. Now, -when old Mr. Glacier got this far, he heard the five o'clock whistle -blow or something, so he dropped that pile of rocks he was carrying, and -started to melt. When we hike up there, you can see markings on the -rocks where they got scratched being pulled along over the ground." Gil -finished his lecture by throwing away his chewed grass-stem and -carefully pulling another. - -Blackie rose and held up his hand to shade his squinting eyes while he -peered at the slide of boulders which, according to Gil's story, had -been brought there in such a dramatic manner. - -"All right, I believe you," he said; but he continued to stare. - -Half-hidden among the pines and mountain maples, clinging to the side of -the mountain at the end of a thin line of road that ran above, Blackie -saw the faded clapboards and weathered roof of a house. There was not a -sign of life about it. The sinking sun, nearing its last stand above the -Lenape ridge, was reflected in all its bloodiness in two upstairs -windows of that dark and ominous dwelling; the afterglow swirled and -glinted with the color of molten copper. A little breeze blew up from -the lake, a breeze not too warm for late June; and Blackie shivered -slightly as it struck his back. He didn't know why, but the sight of -that dead, hidden house scared him--just a little. He thought it looked -like a skull, lost among the trees. There must be some mystery about a -house like that. - -"Gil!" - -"Well, what is it now, youngster?" - -"Does anybody live in that old house up there?" - -"Sure. That's where old Rattlesnake Joe lives. Some people around here -call him the hermit. You can go up and see him some time. Now, have you -got your breath back? If we don't get going pretty soon, the gang will -be in ahead of us, and we'll be out of luck for getting a good bunk." - -The two boys trotted on along the trail at a fast pace. Blackie would -have liked to ask some more questions about the hermit who lived alone -in the woods in that mysterious house, but he was afraid that Gil would -taunt him about being a greenhorn, so he saved his breath for running. -The trail soon broke surprisingly into the campus, and they were among -white tents where several of their comrades, already arrived in camp by -the same short-cut around the lake, were busily spreading out their -blankets on the two-decked canvas bunks that lined the tent walls. - -"The tent assignments must be already posted," muttered Gil. "Hurry up -to the lodge!" - -Blackie ran with him through the little tent-village, but when he -reached the flagpole before the spreading lodge he halted as the lake -and the far shore spread out before his view. - -"Jee-miny!" he whistled. He could see the roof of the boat dock below, -around which were moored about a dozen broad-beamed steel rowboats. - -Gil Shelton came tearing by, laden with blanket and duffle that he had -collected from the pile of baggage on the lodge porch. - -"Say, Blackie," he called, "you better get on the job! You're assigned -to Tent Four, down there. Grab your stuff and hurry down. The first one -in the tent gets his choice of bunks." - -Several boys, the advance guard of the hay-wagons, came streaming down -to the campus from the road behind the lodge. Blackie climbed the steps -to the lodge porch and in the welter of luggage there discovered a -familiar-looking sea-bag with his initials painted on it in black. -Seizing this dunnage, he ran stumbling to Tent Four, his new home in the -woods. - -Tent Four lay at the end of the row of tents topmost on the hilly -campus. Before it lay a cleared space dotted by huckleberry bushes and a -few shading pines. The tent was floored and painted a battleship gray, -and eight canvas bunks lined the walls, running the length of the tent -and making two tiers. A tall boy was already swiftly and smoothly making -up a bed in one of the lower bunks. He nodded to Blackie but did not -pause in his work. - -Gil Shelton shouted across from Tent Three, next door. His bunk was -already made. With the deftness of an experienced camper, he was setting -each thing in its correct place--shoes and hats in a line under the bed, -coats and sweaters on the rope swung between the two tent-poles, pajamas -under his pillow, and the remainder of his kit in one of the pine-wood -lockers that ran down the middle of the tent. - -"The bottom bunks are the best, Blackie! If you pick a top one, the -fellow under you gets you up in the morning by the airplane method!" - -Blackie began unpacking his duffle, slowly and clumsily. He laid out his -blankets on a lower bunk as advised, and tried two or three times to -make his result somewhat resemble Gil's bed; but when he had finished, -it still looked bumpy and not too soft. Then he sat on his sea-bag and -looked about him helplessly. - -The tall fellow, who had not spoken until now, looked up and smiled -shyly. - -"Stuck? Well, follow what I do, and you'll soon get cleared up. This the -first time you've been to camp?" - -It was the first time Blackie had ever been away from home, but he hated -to admit it. - -"Yeah. How do they put their stuff at _this_ camp?" He said it as if he -had visited all the other camps in the world before he had happened to -drop in on this insignificant little one. - -Two other boys now rushed down, and made haste to stake out their claims -to lower bunks. - -"Can't have that one," warned the tall, quiet boy to one of them who had -put his bag on the lower bunk nearest the lodge. "That belongs to the -councilor. And a councilor needs a lower bunk because he may have to -turn out quick in the middle of the night if he's needed." - -"Who is the councilor?" asked the other. - -"Mr. Rawn--Wally. He's the fellow that has charge of the swimming. Well, -I'm going up to the lodge. He promised to let me be the waiter for the -first two days, because I know all about it." He departed in the -direction of the lodge. - -Blackie sat on his bunk and looked around. Everyone was busily engaged -in making up the first night's bed, and shouts and singing came from all -quarters as the busy campers shook down in their new homes. From the -lodge porch came the brazen blare of First Call sounded by the camp -bugler. - -A pine bough brushed against the tent, laden with cones. It occurred to -Blackie that it would be a good idea to take a few and stick them in -between someone's blankets. He lifted off a few that looked to be the -most prickly and crossing the tent, pulled down the blankets of the tall -lad who had gone to the lodge. The two other boys had now been joined by -a third; but none of them were watching, for they were hurriedly -preparing for supper, and evidently thought the bunk was his own. - -Blackie shoved the pine-cones down between the blankets, and looked -around to see if anyone had watched him. Someone had. A shadow fell -across the front of the tent, a tall and muscular figure stood over him, -and a deep voice demanded, "Do you always sleep with pine-cones in your -bed?" - - - - - CHAPTER II - THE COUNCILOR - - -Blackie hesitated. - -"Yes, sir, I always do that when I'm camping. It makes it seem more as -if I was really in the woods," he said. - -The tall man--he must have been six feet two, and stockily built--looked -down at Blackie and frowned. He was big enough to have picked up the boy -and used him for a baseball. - -"I wouldn't lie if I were you," he drawled. "It's a bad habit for a -young lad to acquire. That bunk belongs to Ken Haviland, my aide. By the -time he's ready to crawl in to-night, he'll be plenty tired from a long -day on the job. Don't you think he's entitled to a good sleep?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, since we are to be tent-mates, we ought to get acquainted." He -grinned broadly, and held out his hand. "I'm Wally Rawn. What's your -name?" - -"Blackie. Blackie Thorne." - -The man grinned as he took the boy's hand in a firm grip and surveyed -the bright black eyes, the shining black hair. - -"Not a bad name, at that. What's your mother call you?" - -"She calls me Blackie, too. My regular name is Ambrose." - -"I won't tell a soul. Blackie you are and Blackie you shall be. Now, -Blackie, I'm going to offer you a chance to show what sort of a spirit -you have for helping to make the Tent Four boys known all over camp. I -have, after much thought, decided to paint our tent-poles with pink and -green stripes. That ought to start the rest of camp thinking about us. -Now, please run up to the kitchen and ask the chef to send you down here -with a bucket of striped paint--pink and green." - -Blackie was off like a flash, but his leader called him back. - -"While you're up there, Blackie, you can also ask him to lend you a -bunk-stretcher. I find that my feet stick out over the edge of my berth, -and I don't want to wake up in the morning and find the birds roosting -on my toes. A left-handed bunk-stretcher--my bunk is on the left-hand -side." - -"Yes, Mr. Rawn." - -"Call me Wally. Now, off with you!" - -Blackie bounded up the short hill to the side door of the kitchen. -Through the screen came the tantalizing fragrance of something good; -supper was on the way, evidently, and Ellick, that good-hearted king of -the kitchen, was at his busiest. Blackie pushed open the door and ran in -with an important look on his dark face. He was greeted by Leggy, a -skinny, coffee-colored individual whose thin shanks, although they -seemed to have no end, did no more than reach the ground. He waved a -long-handled spoon, and made a swing with it at Blackie's head. - -"Outside, white boy!" he cried. "Kitchen ain't no place for little boys -at de supper-call." - -"I got a message for the chef--very important. Let me in!" - -"Hol' on dere!" came Ellick's voice from the far corner of the room. -"You ain't de boy what is lookin' for de striped paint, is you?" - -"Yes, I am, chef." - -"Well, if dat don't beat all!" exclaimed the surprised cook. "We is just -out of striped paint. If I wasn't busily pre-incapacitated by carving -dis yere ham for dinner, now, I would shorely help you-all out. A -left-handed bunk-stretcher wouldn't do as well, would it, now?" - -"Say, that was the other thing I was sent for!" - -"Who-all sent you?" - -"Wally Rawn--he's my leader." - -"Oh, that Wally boy! It must shore be important then. If I could only -dis-extricate myself from carvin' dis yere ham, now----Let me see. De -bestest thing to do under de concircumstances is for you-all to go down -to de boat dock and petitionate de person in charge to give you de keys -to de campus. And, whiles you'm down there, you-all might bring up a -cargo what's waitin' for some smart young boy to fetch me. Ask him -pussonally from me to deliver unto you-all de shipment of fence-post -holes and de Royal Official Back-Scratcher." - -"You bet, chef--keys to the campus, fencepost holes and the Royal -Official Back-Scratcher." - -"I thanks you. What might be you-all name?" - -"Blackie." - -"Hmm. I decalculate from dat name dat you are repartial to doughnuts." -There was a sweet, sugary smell in the warm kitchen air. - -"Doughnuts? You said it, chef!" - -"Catch!" - -The grinning Ellick deftly caught up a doughnut from a bowl beside him, -and tossed it in the air. Blackie got under it like a veteran fielder, -and sped out the door. The gangling Leggy aimed a parting swing at him -with the long-tailed spoon, and missed. - -On the parade ground, Blackie paused in his headlong lakeward course at -the sight of Gil Shelton, hair combed, face shining from a recent -scrubbing, and spotless for supper. "Hey, Blackie, where you heading? -After fence-post holes?" - -"Yep--how did you know? And striped paint and a left-handed -bunk-stretcher and----" - -Gil started in great surprise. "Don't tell me," he exclaimed, "that they -picked you to bring the Royal Official Back-Scratcher?" - -"They sure have." - -"That's a great honor, my son. In fact, only the newest and greenest -boys are ever picked for it. Say, Blackie, I didn't think you'd fall for -that old stuff. Did you ever see a fence-post hole? Does striped paint -come in cans?" - -Blackie paused and thought for the first time. - -"Well, Gil, it was my leader Wally who sent me. He told me not to tell -lies, too, so I thought it was all right." - -"Say, did you ever hear of Santa Claus? Why, for a week now the little, -new, green, smart, bright city boys will be looking all over the place -for striped paint and the key to the lake. And you fell for it the first -thing!" - -Gil's laughter was so deep that Blackie was glad to get back to the -shelter of his tent. - -Wally greeted him. "So you didn't find it, eh? Well, that's all -right--don't be discouraged. You can help me out in another way. Just -run down to the dock, will you, and ask if anyone down there has seen -the key to the lake?" - -"Not on your life, Wally," grinned Blackie. "Send one of the new fellows -down, can't you?" - -The camp bugler, Ted Fellowes, sounded Assembly Call at that moment, and -there was no time for further talk before supper. After the Retreat -ceremony and the lowering of the flag, the boys attacked the supper that -had been prepared in the depths of the kitchen. Blackie had never found -a meal that tasted quite so good. - -He met the remainder of the boys of Tent Four at the table. Ken -Haviland, the tent aide, was busily serving as waiter at one end; he had -to run again and again to the serving window for additional platters of -ham, potatoes, and turnips, mountains of bread and oceans of milk. -Blackie didn't envy him his job. - -Wally had evidently met all the boys in his group. He paused and, -between mouthfuls, addressed them. - -"There's one thing that's worrying me, gentlemen of the famous Tent Four -group. There are only seven of us, and there should be eight, counting -myself. One of our number has not turned up. I shall call our imposing -roll. Haviland!" - -"Here, sir." Ken seized his serving tray and dashed off in pursuit of -dessert. - -"Thorne! Here, I see. Slater!" - -"Here, sir!" answered a freckle-faced boy with burning red hair. - -"Guppy!" - -Blackie looked with interest at the boy with such a beautiful name. He -was a little chap of about eleven, at the end of one row. - -"Lefkowitz!" - -"Present!" came a squeaky voice from across the table. - -"Gallegher!" - -"Here!" He was a sunburnt, black-haired chap with a scar across his -forehead, shaped like a V. - -"Crampton! No answer. It is the notorious Mr. Crampton who is missing. -Has anybody here ever heard tell of the gentleman?" - -"That must be Fat," said Blackie. "We saw him down at the end of the -lake before we hiked up. He was in the wagon then." - -"Maybe that's the fat fellow we dumped off the wagon coming along the -road back of camp," volunteered Slater. "We told him that walking was -the best way to reduce his figger, and dumped him out." - -"To our fat friend's rescue, then, tent-mates!" cried Wally, drinking -down the last of a glass of milk. "As soon as the Chief makes his -announcements, we shall be in the saddle and off for the hunt!" - -A whistle sounded, and quiet fell on the groups. The Chief was about to -speak. He rose, an imposing figure of a man, quiet, dignified, and with -a voice full of calm command. He was dressed in camper's togs, and wore -the green "L" on his sweater. - -"All I have to say is this, fellows. We are all up here for a good -time--the best time ever. Now, I want to mention a few things that will -help the new camper to get along and make himself at home. Don't expose -yourselves to the sun too much until you get a coat of tan gradually; -you won't blister then. Don't cut up or mark the trees on the campus of -which we are so proud. Don't have any firearms in your tents; none of -any kind are permitted here at camp, and if you have any, bring them up -to the lodge and I will look after them for you. And finally, I only -need mention the rule we have about boys who smoke. Now, those are all -the 'don't's' I'm going to mention. In an hour there will be a grand -jubilee campfire below the baseball diamond, where I will introduce you -to the councilors, who will then have something to say to you. All set -for the best camp season ever! Everybody happy?" - -"Yay!" The resounding, united call of the campers reverberated among the -lodge rafters. - -"Let the lions roar!" - -"Rao-a-ow!" A pack of well-fed lions never sent up such a tremendous -roaring to the Sahara moon. - -"Dismissed!" - -Tent Four remained a little island in the swirling rush of campers that -broke up after the meal. - -"Are you with me, gang?" shouted Wally. "Onward to the rescue of our -wandering brother!" He made for the back door, pushing through the crowd -like a fullback carrying the ball to victory, followed by his eager team -of tent-mates. Tent Four was on the round-up. - -No sooner had they reached the road behind camp than the leader began -giving directions, curtly and with precision. "Spread out, fellows, and -we'll cover a path on each side of the road. Keep in touch with my -whistle--I'll be in the center. Shout for Crampton at intervals, and -we'll soon have him back in the fold----What's that?" - -A low moan was heard behind him, just off the road. - -"Help! Help!" - -Wally bounded off in the direction from whence it came. His muscular -legs cleared the low bushes like so many hurdles. - -"Behind that big tree!" shouted Gallegher. The six boys dashed off after -their leader, and found him staring down at a mournful figure sitting -with his back to the trunk of a tall pine. It was Fat Crampton. His -bulging cheeks bore the trails of tear-marks; he sat hunched amid the -wreckage of his knapsack and accouterment, with the most woebegone look -in the world. - -"I'm lost in the woods," he moaned. "I've been walking around for -hours!" - -"Why, you poor nut," said Blackie, "if you had walked two steps further -you would have tripped over the camp!" - -Fat transferred his doleful gaze. "Oh, Blackie, is it really you? Say, -I'm scared. I heard a bunch of lions off in the woods a minute ago, and -I thought they were going to get me." - -"Lions, nothing!" The whole tent broke into a storm of laughter. "That -was us! Rao-a-ow! Look out for us, Fat--we're lions!" - -"Come on, lion-hunter," said Wally, "come on and get a meal of raw meat. -I think the chef will have saved something for you." He lifted the -rotund lad on his shoulder and set off toward the kitchen, with Fat -helplessly waving his arms from his lofty perch. The rest of the boys -ran with them, roaring terribly and making quips at the wanderer's -expense. - -Little Guppy ran beside Wally, looking up at the leader. - -"I'll make up Fat's bunk," he offered, "if he'll tell me where his -blankets are." - -"That's the spirit! Keep it up, and you'll make a great aide some day, -Gup!" - -By the time the fat boy was fed, the bugle sounded Assembly for the -campfire. It was now dark, and the campers found their ways down through -the baseball diamond to a field above the lake shore, where a group of -three or four leaders were standing beside a high pyre of logs and -branches, talking to the Chief. They were Mr. Frayne, the burly -assistant director whom everyone, even the smallest boys, familiarly -called "Happy Face" because of the smile he always wore; "Sax" McNulty, -the mournful-looking comedian and saxophone artist who had charge of the -shows and stunt-nights; and Lieutenant Eames, the West Pointer. The -other leaders were to be found among the crowd of boys settling around -the piled fire. - -In the glow of somebody's flashlight Blackie caught sight of Gil -Shelton's face in the crowd. Gil saw him, also, and shouted over: "Hi, -Blackie! How's the guardian of the Royal Official Back-Scratcher?" - -"Aw, forget it, Gil. Say, what are they going to do now?" - -"Light the fire, of course. Then I guess we'll have a song or two, and -the Chief will introduce all the leaders, and somebody will tell a -story, and then we'll burn all the little new greenhorns at the stake." - -Blackie laughed as much as the joke required, and snuggled down next to -Wally, in the midst of the Tent Four group. The fire was lighted, and -the glow was reflected in the faces of the happy throng of campers who -gathered around the first campfire of the season. The boys of Tent Four, -already bound together by loyalty to their leader, were content to lie -and listen to the calm voice of their Chief, as a spout of flaring -sparks rose from the flames to challenge the distant glitter of the -stars. - - - - - CHAPTER III - AFTER TAPS - - -The musical echo of Tattoo came from the bugle, and a hush fell upon -Tent Four. The campfire still smouldered in the field by the lake, but -the campers had passed to their tents at the Call to Quarters, and were -now making ready to turn in for the night. - -Blackie squatted on his bunk and stared at the faces that were -half-illuminated by the solitary lantern that hung on the tent-pole. -Mindful of the pine-cones that were still in Ken Haviland's bed, he was -lying low and watching for developments. - -The aide had already stripped, and was climbing into a swathing suit of -pajamas. Above him jutted the head of Lefkowitz, already between -blankets but still full of interest in proceedings. - -"I can't find my nightgown," wailed little Guppy at the other end of the -tent. - -"It should be under your pillow," said Wally. He stretched his broad -arms and yawned prodigiously, making a noise like an enraged walrus. -"You ought to have pajamas anyway." - -"I put it under the pillow, sir, as Ken told me to. I had an extra one, -but that's gone too. And I promised Mother I wouldn't sleep in my--my -underthings, sir." - -"Well, they'll probably turn up. For to-night you can have an extra pair -of my pajamas. I think the pants would be enough for you, though--you're -not exactly a giant." Wally produced a pair of outing-flannel pants, -stuffed the small Guppy into the legs of them, tied the cord about his -neck, and stowed him away between the blankets like a sack of potatoes. - -Ken was turning down the covers. Blackie watched him feel the blankets -all over, and to the joker's disappointment, the aide touched several -suspicious bumps and resuscitated the hidden pine-cones. He tossed them -into the night, and winked at Blackie. - -"My camp experience has taught me to always feel my bed before I turn -in," he grinned. "Some chaps have a funny sense of humor." He hopped in -and sprawled out luxuriously. - -Now that his trap had failed, Blackie bethought him of turning in also. -Slater, who had been outside gazing at the stars, stepped into the tent. - -"Lots of meteorites falling to-night, sir," he observed. "Venus is full, -too, I think; she's especially bright in the west." He set about his -preparations for bed. - -Gallegher made a spring and landed in his bunk, just over Blackie's -head. A creaking from another upper bunk across the way announced that -Fat Crampton had at last been able to climb to his lofty berth. - -"Make it fast, Blackie," warned the leader. "You don't want to be the -last one in." - -Blackie was soon arrayed in the popular evening clothes for the -well-dressed camper, and looked longingly at his inviting bunk. He -slipped between the warm blankets, and stretched out. Umm--this was the -life! - -But hold on! Something had him by the leg--something else was biting him -on the foot! Ouch! He yelled and rolled over the side, to come to the -floor in a whirling pile of boy, blankets, and--pine-cones! - -Gallegher snickered above him. - -"The oldest trick there is!" he chuckled. "These new guys will fall for -anything!" - -The crestfallen Blackie struggled upright, and in the dull lamplight -began to make his bed anew. - -"That will be all the demonstrations of playfulness for to-night, -gentlemen," observed Wally, sitting on the edge of his bunk. "You are -all tired, and need your sleep--I, may it be observed, need mine also. -How anybody has the pep left to skylark around the first night of -camp--or any other night--is beyond me. As soon as Taps sounds, Tent -Four will be as still as the grave. The silence, as the book-writers -always have it, will be broken only by the measured breathing of the -slumbering woodsmen and the far call of a fillyloo bird across the -waste. Key down, now." - -He reached for his kit and drew out a book. "I'm talking seriously now. -We are all up here at Lenape to have the best time ever. It's my job as -councilor to see that we do. And that's what I want to make you fellows -understand. I'll help you in any way I can to keep you good campers and -to make Lenape proud of you. If at any time you have anything on your -mind, bring it to me and we'll talk it out. Now, I'm going to read you -one of the finest things that a camper ever listened to." - -He opened the Bible in his hand and read by the flickering light, in a -clear and sincere voice: "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the -firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night -unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where -their voice is not heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, -and their words to the end of the world. In them hath He set a -tabernacle for the sun, which is as a bridegroom coming out of his -chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race. His going forth is -from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and -there is nothing hid from the heat thereof. The law of the Lord is -perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making -wise the simple." - -Softly and sweetly, as if from afar, came the first comforting notes of -Taps, the finest of music to a tired camper. Wally doused the lantern, -and the glory of the stars came into the quiet tent. - -"Good-night, fellows," said Wally quietly. "Happy dreams!" - -Blackie lay quite still in his tumbled bed, thinking about the stars. -Firmament--that was a word that meant the same as heaven, but not so -nice-sounding. The stars were bright, all right. - -Gallegher must have put those cones into his bed, when he had been -chasing bunk-stretchers--it must have been Gallegher, because he had -laughed so hard when Blackie fell out. Well, so much the worse for Mr. -Gallegher! He was sleeping right above Blackie, and in the morning, Mr. -Gallegher would be surprised. He reached up one foot, tentatively, to -see how the airplane method would work in helping Gallegher to rise. The -temptation came, and he pushed upward with both feet, hard. - -Zoom! Gallegher flew into the air and came down to the floor with a wild -yell. The experiment was a success. Tent Four was instantly alert. - -Lefkowitz snickered. Slater moaned dolefully. Little Guppy said, "What's -that?" - -Gallegher lay tumbled on the floor among his blankets. He had bruised -his elbow against a locker, and it made him mean-tempered. - -"Damn you!" he cried. "I'll get even----" - -Through the dark came the calm voice of Wally. "You seem to have been -around a bunch of pretty foul-mouthed fellows, Gallegher. Gentlemen, and -especially Lenape gentlemen, don't talk that way. Chain gang for you -Monday morning." - -"I don't care!" shouted Gallegher. "I'd say it again if he did that to -me. If Blackie was a gentleman, he wouldn't have given me that airplane -ride. It's his fault as much as mine. Why don't you give him the chain -gang, too?" - -"Blackie!" - -"Yes, sir." Blackie, chuckling happily to himself at the thought of the -row he had raised, sat up and leaned on one arm. - -"Didn't I ask you and the other fellows to key down after Taps?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"All right. Take your blankets and go sleep on the ground by the -flagpole to-night." - -"But why? I didn't do a thing but get back at him for sticking -pine-cones in my bunk!" - -"On your way. When you can behave decently, you can sleep with the rest -of us again." - -Sullenly, and making as much noise about it as he dared, Blackie put on -his slippers and gathered up his pillow and blankets over his arm. The -night air was cool, and he shivered slightly in his pajamas. A pine -tree's branch brushed the canvas tent-roof above his head, and somewhere -off up the mountain a dog howled dismally. It didn't look too inviting -out on the darkened campus by the flagpole; but he didn't want to appear -a coward and whine to get out of going. - -"Good-night, you guys," he said with bravado and stalked out of the rear -of the tent. As he passed the bunk across from the leader's, on his way -out, Slater stuffed something among Blackie's blankets with a whispered -caution. - -"Keep it out of sight--you've got the chance to get to the flagpole!" - -Blackie nodded and went out on the path. The stars were like bright -candles against a blue-green silk dome, and somehow their twinkling was -not so pleasant now. He passed a line of tents, some quiet, one or two -filled with low snickers and cackles and the usual disturbance of the -first night under canvas. The white lodge showed pale and strange in the -starlight; the campus was somehow changed from what it had been in -bright day. He stumbled across to the base of the flagpole and began -spreading out his bed on the hard ground. He cleared away one or two -stones, and beat down the high grass as best he could, and tried to -rearrange his blankets into comfortable shape. - -His next care was to examine the bundle that Slater had passed to him. -As he had guessed, it was the missing nightgown that Guppy had bewailed -at bedtime. He chuckled, thinking of the scheme that Slater had -suggested. - -He looked around; the coast was clear. The flagpole was only a few steps -away. He jumped up, unfastened the halyards, and knotting a sleeve to -each end of the rope, hauled away. Then, almost too sleepy to care where -he lay, he crawled into his twisted bed and was dead to the world in -half a minute, smiling to think that when the morning sun rose over Camp -Lenape, it would reveal that the campers had slept under a fluttering -ensign that was nothing more than little Guppy's pink nightgown. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - A HARD CASE - - -Blackie was wakened somewhat rudely the next morning. A sloshing glass -of cold water landed on his face, and he jumped up half-awake to find -Gil Shelton standing over him in the fresh sunlight with the empty glass -in his hand. - -"Rise and shine!" called the patrol-leader. "First Call will sound in -about a minute. Gee, you must have been sawing wood not to hear the -noise the gang has been making ever since four o'clock this morning! -Most of the tenderfeet woke up early and have been horsing around. I -couldn't sleep, so Chink Towner and Spaghetti Megaro and I got -permission to hike down to the cottage and back. Look at the big frog we -found by the brook!" - -He held up a monstrous bullfrog by the hind legs, so close to Blackie's -face that he jumped backwards in alarm, while Gil's two companions -laughed. - -"Don't let him scare you," said Megaro, the Italian boy. - -"I ain't afraid. Say, what are you going to do with him, Gil?" - -"Give him to Ellick--he likes to eat frog legs. Come on, here comes -Fellowes with his tin horn ready to blow First Call." - -Blackie picked up his bed and made his way to Tent Four. All his -tent-mates were awake and laughing at little Guppy, who had just -discovered that his nightgown was floating in the breeze at the top of -the flagpole. The bugle's call routed them all out to formation in front -of the lodge, where after a snappy setting-up drill the entire camp flew -down the slope to the boat dock for the Indian dip. - -The blue waters of the lake reflected a hundred white bodies standing -about the edge of the dock waiting for Wally's whistle. No sooner had it -sounded than there was a tremendous plunging and splashing as most of -them tumbled head-first into the crisp, bracing water. A few younger -boys and timid souls waded in from the shore. - -"Stick your head under, Toots!" - -"Oh, boy! Say, ain't this water cold?" - -"It ain't cold, you dummy. Just the way I like it--wakes me up fine!" - -Blackie took a swift racing dive off the front end of the dock, swept -cleanly through the water in a shower of small bubbles, and came to the -surface with a speedy overhand stroke. He swam some fifty yards out to -the life-saving boat that was stationed there with Sax McNulty at the -oars and a leader named Munson at the bow, and there floated a minute. -He was surprised to hear the trill of the whistle, followed by cries of -"All out!" - -Swimming over to the dock again, he shouted in a grieved tone to Wally, -who was supervising the general exodus from the water, "What's the idea, -Wally? Do you call this a swim?" - -"Of course not--this is just morning dip, and you'll get a chill if you -stay in long. Swim comes later." - -"Aw, heck!" Somewhat disgruntled, he climbed out and raced back to the -tent to dress for breakfast. - -The morning meal over, there was a period of duty. "We're on police -squad, you fellows!" called Ken Haviland. - -"Police?" asked Blackie. "What do we do--go around arresting guys?" - -"No, you sap. Get a blanket and I'll show you." - -Blackie discovered that policing camp merely meant going about the -campus and picking up bits of paper and destroying unsightly objects -that littered the paths. Church Call sounded soon after they finished, -and together with the rest of the campers he went to a shady glade in -the forest beside the lake and sat on a log while the short Sunday -service was held. He liked sitting there in the leafy woods and singing -the various tunes, even though they were the same ones they sang in -Sunday-school at home; he admired the handiwork of the rustic pulpit -that the campers had built the year before; but when the Chief began his -talk he was frankly bored. The Chief was saying something about -different trees and how they were like different kinds of boys; but -Blackie only listened now and then. He was wishing that church was over -and that they could go in swimming again; and he passed the time -catching ants and dropping them down the neck of a smaller boy who sat -in front of him. - -As a matter of fact the service was quite brief; but it seemed to him -that it would never end. After years of waiting, or so he thought, the -brisk challenge of Swim Call came from the lodge porch, and slipping -into his bathing suit, he headed again for the dock. He was the first -one there, with the exception of the life-saving crew, composed equally -of councilors and older boys who had won the Red Cross emblem that was -stitched over their breasts. Wally was in charge; he was sending out -three boats to patrol the waters about the dock and posting the guards -who would stand in various places about the tower to be on the watch for -water accidents. When this was done, the man turned to Blackie. - -"First one down for swim? Say, if you'd only show as much speed doing -squad-duty, the rest of the fellows wouldn't have to do a thing!" - -"Can I go in now, Wally?" - -"You'll have to hold yourself down until the rest get here and the -whistle blows. The rule is that there's no swimming except when the -life-savers are on duty. There aren't going to be any accidents while -I'm in charge. By the way, I noticed this morning at Indian dip that -you're not a bad swimmer." - -"I'm pretty good, I guess," said Blackie modestly. - -"Do you know the Australian crawl? No? Well, if you want to make speed, -that's the stroke to use. The camp always holds a big boat regatta and -swimming meet at the end of each section--that's two weeks from now--and -we compete with our old rivals of Camp Shawnee. I'd like to see you take -a few honors and help us to beat them. What say I teach you the crawl -some time?" - -"Now?" - -"To-morrow, maybe. Well, here comes the gang!" He turned away as the -crowd of campers, all in swimming togs, trooped on to the dock, and at -the sound of his whistle the swim began. - -Blackie sported about the water happily for the remainder of the period. -He was quite pleased with himself for having thus been singled out by -his leader for swimming ability. Tired of circling about the life-boats, -he began ducking less experienced swimmers and pushing boys off the dock -into the water, until he was reprimanded for this conduct by Lieutenant -Eames because of the danger of someone slipping and injuring himself -against one of the piles or the superstructure of the dock. This -scolding made him sulky, and he swam by himself until the whistle blew, -and then tardily walked up to the tent, stopping many times on the way -to chase butterflies or to hunt for snakes among the rocks; and thus, -when he finally reached the tent, he found his comrades working busily. -All the beds were made except his own, and under the direction of Ken -Haviland, the boys were sweeping and arranging, cleaning the tent -lantern, putting their lockers in order, and tidying up the place. - -"Where have you been?" the aide greeted him. "Snap out of it and get -dressed and make your bunk and get ready for inspection. Wally had to go -up to leaders' meeting at the lodge." - -"Aw, don't make such a fuss," said Blackie. "I'll do it, won't I?" - -"Yes, but we have only a couple minutes before inspection. If the tent -isn't in apple-pie order, we don't stand a chance to win the pennant -to-day." - -"Well, what if we don't? What's the good of having an old pennant in -front of your tent? It don't get you anything." - -"But don't you see it means that the Tent Four bunch are the best -campers? When you're here longer you'll learn not to waste time talking -back when we have a chance to show our stuff." - -Without haste, Blackie peeled off his swimming suit and cast it on the -floor, dressed with tantalizing slowness, and with a scowl at the aide, -began to make his bed. He knew that Haviland was angry and thought it a -good chance to get the tall camper's "goat." In the midst of his -preparations the call came down the line, "All out of tents for -inspection!" Haviland and the others jumped outside and lined up at -attention, but Blackie delayed to try and shake his blankets into shape. -Just as he stepped outside, Mr. Colby, one of the councilors and a -scoutmaster known for his strictness, came along with his inspection -staff. - -"Tent Four! Two demerits for having a camper inside the tent after -inspection call. The tent seems to be in pretty good shape, but there's -a wet bathing suit in the middle of the floor, and one bunk that isn't -made. Sorry, Haviland--but this will give you so many demerits that -you'll probably get the booby prize to-day! Any excuse?" - -"No excuse, sir," answered Haviland, looking daggers at the guilty -Blackie. After the inspection crew had passed on, he turned to Blackie -and said, "We would have had a good chance at the pennant if it hadn't -been for you! As it is, we'll probably have the booby can tied to our -tent-pole until to-morrow! What do you say, fellows--shall I recommend -that Wally puts him on the chain gang?" - -"Put me on the gang if you want to--I don't care!" exclaimed Blackie -boldly; but he was silent all during dinner, and even fried chicken, -green corn and ice-cream failed to make him forget that his careless -attitude had won him the black looks of all his tent-mates. - -After the meal there was the usual siesta period. The boys were -scattered about lying in their bunks, resting and writing letters home. -Blackie crouched in his place with a pencil and pad before him. Haviland -sat across from him, now and then looking gloomily up at a big tin can, -painted black with the white letters BOOBY across it, which hung -swinging in plain sight over the front steps. Slater was writing busily. -Fat Crampton was asleep, and Gallegher was tickling the stout boy's nose -and neck with a stalk of grass, while Guppy and Lefkowitz watched the -proceedings with amusement. - -Blackie looked down at what he had written. "Dear Mother--We got here O. -K. and Camp Lenape is a fine camp. I am on the Chain Gang already and -the swimming is O. K. I will learn the Ostralien crawl soon please send -me up some fudge and cake. Last night I slep out-door. I think this is a -fine camp o boy and don't forget the fudge and cake and some chewing gum -too." - -He read this over for the fifth time, wondered what to put down next, -and looked up to find Haviland watching him. - -"What's biting you?" Blackie asked. "Still sore because you didn't win -your old pennant?" - -"It's not myself I'm worrying about, but after dinner I heard a couple -of the other leaders kidding Wally because he is always so proud of -having his tent make a good showing, and to-day we were handed the merry -razz." - -Blackie snorted. "Say, who is this guy Wally that he should boss us -around? Always blowing his whistle just when the water's getting good!" - -"Yeah," put in Gallegher, who had finally succeeded in awakening Fat -Crampton. "Down our way all the guys would think he was sure a sissy, -landin' on me just because I cussed a little." - -"He wouldn't give me seconds on ice-cream, either," said Fat Crampton -mournfully. "Said I ought to start to reduce." - -Ken looked at them all pityingly. "Say, don't you know Wally is a senior -at Columbia University and on the varsity water-polo and basketball -teams? He's coming up here and spending his time teaching you birds how -to be good campers, and that's all the thanks he gets!" - -"I guess he has a pretty good time," said Blackie. - -"Of course he does, or he wouldn't be here. But it's no fun to have a -tent full of lazy draw-backs like you that object every time he tries to -make a good showing." - -There was a short space of silence. Slater looked up from his writing. - -"Hey, Ken, do we have council ring to-night?" he asked. - -"Sure." - -"What's council ring?" asked Blackie curiously. - -Slater explained. "Just when it's getting dark, we all put on blankets -and go over to council, just like the Indians used to do. We all sit in -a circle around a four-square fire, and one of the fellows lights the -fire with flint and steel, or else with rubbing-sticks. Then we have -report of scouts. Any fellow who has seen any interesting birds or -animals or anything like that gets up and tells about them. Then we -suggest anything we can do to help make the camp better and offer to do -it. Then they have all kinds of contests--hand-wrestling and talk-fests -and imitations, and usually end up with a ghost story. It's real fun, -all right." - -Blackie remembered that Gil had pointed out the way to the council ring -the evening before, and suddenly thought he would like to see the place -by daylight. He put away his letter, rose, and stretched. - -"So long, you guys," he said. - -"Where are you going?" asked the aide. "Nobody's allowed to leave until -after Recall." - -"None of your business--and if you ask me, I think you're nothing but a -spy on us for this Wally of yours." He dived into the bushes and -disappeared before Haviland could follow. - -Not only did he want the fun of tormenting Ken, but also wishing to look -over the famous council ring, he took a course through the woods that he -thought would bring him out at the place he sought. It was quiet; the -camp was still even for a Sunday afternoon. He pressed through the -underbrush and in a short time stumbled upon a well-worn path that led -in the direction he was going. Shortly he caught a glimpse of white -birch railings through the leaves, and he trod softly in case there -should be anyone there who might question him. His precaution proved to -be wise. From a clearing ahead came the low hum of men's voices. - -A circle some fifty yards across had been cleared in the woods, and -seats built about it, with an imposing stone dais on the north side to -furnish a proper elevation for the chieftain. Sitting on this stone were -the Chief himself and Wally Rawn, chatting together. - -They had not seen him, and it struck Blackie that it might be a daring -thing to get close enough to overhear their conference. Forgetful of the -old saying that eavesdroppers seldom hear well of themselves, he wormed -his way around through the bushes and found a place where he could -listen without being seen. - -"I approve of the life-saving crew assignments you've made, then, -Wally," the Chief was saying. He rose as if to leave. "By the way, what -do you think of the bunch I've put in your tent?" - -"They look pretty good," answered Wally. "They ought to turn out -first-rate after a couple of days. Haviland is a pretty capable kid, and -Slater is bugs about stars and scouting and doesn't give much trouble. -That Crampton lad is lazy, but I hope to have him get over that when we -get out on the hikes." - -"You have two fellows I put in with you because they need pretty careful -leadership. Know who they are?" - -"Think I do, Chief--Gallegher and that Blackie Thorne." - -"Right. Gallegher comes from the worst part of town, and I think he may -have picked up a lot of questionable habits. Thorne is a different sort. -He's lively and smart as a whip; but his father is dead and maybe he's -getting to be too much for his mother to handle alone. He's full of -mischief, his scoutmaster tells me, but he ought to turn out right. -They're a pair of hard cases, I guess; but keep them busy and they'll -soon be real Lenape fellows." - -"I like hard cases," grinned Wally. "Blackie is crazy about swimming; -guess I can get him interested through that, and the old camp spirit is -bound to follow. Well, let's get back." - -The two men, arm in arm, disappeared down the path. Blackie Thorne, in -his hidden covert, laughed unpleasantly at their backs. - -"Hard case, am I?" he said to himself. "Well, Mr. Smart Wally, if you -call me that, I guess all I can do is to try and live up to it!" - - - - - CHAPTER V - TREASURE - - -"This chain gang ain't so bad," remarked Gallegher. - -It was after breakfast on Monday morning. He and Blackie, as well as -three other culprits, were chopping wood behind the camp kitchen with -the supervision and assistance of Jim Avery, a tall, gangling councilor -who was a specialist in woodcraft and bird-study. - -Blackie split up a knotty stick of oak before replying. - -"Sure, this ain't such hard work. The leader does half of it, anyway. -Say, you were pretty good, to cuss right in front of Wally the other -night." - -"Aw, that's nothin'. I guess I'm pretty tough, all right. I used to go -down by the railroad lots of times and hook rides on the freight cars. -Once I bummed clear out to Scranton and back, that way." - -"Gee! No wonder the Chief said you was a hard case!" - -Gallegher stopped his chopping, and looked up proudly. "Did he say -that?" - -"Yeah. I heard him talking to our noble councilor about us. He said we -were both hard cases, and that Wally would have to watch us." - -"Well, if that's the way they do in this camp, I'm sure goin' to get -away with everything I can. How about it--are you with me, Thorne?" - -"Sure." - -They split wood for a while in silence. Blackie's back began to ache -from stooping over so much. He dropped his ax and stretched. - -"Gosh, I'm getting sick of this job. When Jim lets us go, I'm going to -head for my bunk and stay there the rest of the day." - -"Say, what did you come to camp for--to be a bunk-stretcher?" asked -Gallegher. "They're goin' to have tests for the honor emblem this -mornin'--ain't you goin' to try for one?" - -"What's the honor emblem? What good is it?" - -"Aw, you have to pass a lot of tests, and then they give you a badge to -sew on your jersey. You've seen them--lots of the guys have won them." - -"You mean the things with a swastika and a big L on them? What do you -get for it?" - -"Say, don't be dumb all your life! If a guy has an honor emblem he can -join the Bugs Society and have an initiation and a feed, and then he can -get away with lots of things, just because he's got a badge, see? It's -somethin' like the Knights of Columbus." - -"Oh. What did you say you have to do to get one?" - -"A bunch of things, like knowin' the names of the parts of a boat and -bein' good at hikin' and swimmin' and athaletics----" - -"That's me. I can do all those things." - -"--And collect flowers and tree leaves and rocks, and know the names of -the stars, and box the compass, and cook a meal, and build cabins and do -stunts--a whole lot of stuff. We can do it easy." - -Blackie considered this, and after his work was done he joined a nature -hike. During the hour before swim, he learned much that he had not -previously known about geology and ferns, and collected the ten leaves -he must identify as one of the qualifications toward his honor emblem. - -Since overhearing Wally and the Chief in the council ring, his attitude -toward his leader had changed. He now thought of Wally as an irksome -guardian and taskmaster, and found excuses for himself to disagree with -every suggestion the councilor made. Nevertheless, he remembered Wally's -promise of the previous day, and after all the other campers had come -out of the water after swim, he touched Wally on the arm and reminded -him that he was to be taught the Australian crawl. - -The life-saving crew now had its brief moment of fun. They were having a -game of water-tag about the boats and up the diving-tower. Blackie -thought it great sport to be with them, and under Wally's direction to -seem one of the outfit that was so much at home in deep water. He kept -one eye on their antics and with the other watched Wally Rawn -demonstrate the approved method of breathing with the crawl stroke that -sent him plowing through the sunlit water at a speedy rate. Then it came -Blackie's turn to show what he had learned, while Wally stood on the -dock and shouted directions. - -"That's right--take a breath every fourth stroke, and let it out under -water! Don't use that frog kick--use the trudgeon! Keep your fingers -together! That's the way." - -At first Blackie found it hard to get the correct timing for his -breaths, but after some twenty minutes Wally called a halt and put an -end to the lesson for the day, pronouncing himself well satisfied with -the boy's progress. - -"If we keep on like this, you ought to win a couple first places in the -Shawnee meet, Blackie. I'll give you some diving instruction later on--I -think I'll give all the fellows in the tent a chance to learn a few -jack-knives and swan dives." - -"What do we get if we win?" asked Blackie. - -"Award ribbons, and lots of glory for Lenape. What more do you want? -You're pretty young yet, kid--but I hope it won't be long before you -find out that the biggest rewards in life are the ones you don't get -paid for. Money or silver cups or ice-cream don't begin to compare with -the ownership of an alert mind, a strong, clean, healthy body, fine -friendships, and a reputation for honor and manliness and courage. Do -you know there's a treasure buried here on the Lenape campus?" - -Blackie was aglow on the instant. "Where? Do you know where to dig for -it? Is it a pirate treasure? Let me help you hunt for it, Wally!" - -The man smiled. "There you go again--always on the lookout for a -selfish, personal gain! The treasure I mean isn't made of Spanish -doubloons and stolen jewels; but it's here, waiting for every boy to -find it for himself. If you've got the right stuff in you, Blackie, and -I think you have, you can take that treasure home with you when you -leave camp. It's a treasure you wouldn't want to trade for anything else -in the world--the treasure of a true Lenape spirit." - -Blackie's visions of delving in the dead of night for a glittering hoard -in a pirate chest vanished. Somewhat downcast, he muttered, "Aw, don't -preach! Just the same, I sure would like to take home a bunch of money -that I found up here." - -"Well, stranger things have happened. Guess your mother would be proud -if you did." - -"Sure! It would help a lot; we don't have much money since Dad left us. -You see, she runs a little store and sells sewing things and fancy -embroidery and stuff like that." - -Wally nodded. "Did you ever stop to think how much she is sacrificing to -give you a good time camping up here in the woods?" - -"I guess so," said Blackie uncomfortably. "Let's go. We don't want to be -late to-day--we don't want to get the booby prize for inspection twice -in a row." - -"That's the spirit!" - - - - - CHAPTER VI - THE HERMIT'S HOUSE - - -That night after supper, when the whistle had shrilled for silence, -Happy Face Frayne, who was officer of the day, made announcement of the -evening's program. "We still have lots of daylight left after supper, so -we have planned a few short hikes before dark. Then, after that, we'll -gather here in the lodge around the fire and have some songs and -stories." - -"Hurray!" - -"Mr. Munson will take a group up the mountain road to the Devil's Potato -Patch. Mr. Colby will head a boating expedition to the dam at the end of -the lake, while those who want to visit Rattlesnake Joe, the hermit, -will report to Dr. Cannon. Those who stay in camp can have a rousing -game of volley ball--Long Jim Avery and Lieutenant Eames will choose -sides." - -"Hurray!" - -"Dismissed!" - -"Where you going, you crazy Irishman?" Blackie asked his bosom friend -Gallegher when they were outside. - -"Me? I'm goin' to start out with the bunch up the mountain, and then -lose myself. You want to come?" He winked significantly. - -"What are you going to do?" - -"You'll see, if you come with me. We'll get away from these babies and -have a good time of our own." - -"All right. Hi, Gil!" shouted Blackie, as his patrol-leader passed by. -"Where you heading?" - -"Up the lake. Say, you remember when we hiked the short way to camp the -first night we came up? You remember that house you asked me about? -Well, now's your chance to see it closer. That's where the hermit lives, -and he's a queer old bird if there ever was one." - -At Gil's words the picture of that secret, sinister house on the -mountainside, as Blackie had first glimpsed it, came back to him. - -"That's right--thanks for reminding me. I'm sorry, Irish--I'll sneak off -with you some other time." - -He slipped away and joined the group around Dr. Cannon, the camp medico, -at the lodge steps. There were some fifteen or twenty campers who -clamored about the short, sturdy figure of the doctor, deluging him with -questions about their destination. - -"The old hermit, Rattlesnake Joe, is one of the sights of this part of -the country," he said, quieting them with a gesture. "I don't need to -tell you anything more--you'll see him for yourselves soon enough. Keep -together--forward, march!" - -The boys straggled behind him as he led the way around behind the -kitchen and the ice-house and on past the Red Cross tent to the road. -Blackie marched in company with the Utway twins and a shock-haired -"two-striper" nicknamed "Sunfish" because he had once fallen out of a -canoe and when he was pulled up on the dock, it was discovered that he -had unwittingly trapped a good-sized sunfish in one of the pockets of -his sweater. - -The hikers turned off to the right where the road turned up the -mountain, and headed down a marshy lane bounded with a stone fence on -each side. The small, stinging deer-flies swarmed about their heads, and -Jerry Utway, one of the twins, showed Blackie how to fasten a -handkerchief around his head so that it would flutter and keep the -bothersome insects at a distance. - -"See that tree?" asked the Sunfish. - -Blackie nodded. - -"Well, that's a black birch tree--the kind they make birch beer from. -Some time I'll show you how to tap it and get a drink of the sap--it -tastes great. Here, take this twig and chew on it. Doesn't it taste -something like sassafras?" - -"Come on--we'll be back with Elephant Crampton in a minute," urged Jake, -the other of the twins. "Hurry up if you kids want to see the old hermit -before dark." - -They increased their pace, and caught up with the vanguard about Dr. -Cannon just as the mysterious house came into sight at the end of the -lane. Surrounded by the shouting company of the campers, Blackie was not -so awed by the place as he had been when, alone with Gil, he had -glimpsed it from afar on his first memorable evening in camp. There were -the same weathered shingles on the low roof, the same dirty windows and -decaying out-houses--but it did not seem so unreal and awful now. - -On their approach they were announced by the furious baying and howling -of half a dozen hounds that leaped and pulled at their chains beside a -rickety kennel by the door. The campers drew back, hoping with all their -hearts that none of the dogs would break loose. The door was flung open, -and a tall old man stamped out and began quieting the hounds, beating -their heads with a stick until they subsided, whimpering. Then he turned -and gazed strangely at the group of boys, shading his eyes against the -slanting rays of sunset. - -"Wal, now," he said after a minute, "if it ain't the Doctor and the -camp-ground boys. How be ye, Doc?" He extended a dirty and claw-like -hand. Blackie was near enough to notice that the finger-nails were all -about half an inch long, broken, ragged, and encrusted with mold. - -Indeed, as Blackie watched him shake hands with Dr. Cannon and step back -to lounge in the doorway, he seemed a far from attractive personality. -He was probably sixty years old, with a tall, stoop-shouldered body. He -leaned slouchily against the rough doorpost, and the blackened fingers -of one hand nervously combed a ragged and greasy beard that was streaked -with gray. The same tangled gray prevailed in the straggling hair that -crawled from beneath his battered felt hat, and in the discouraged -mustache that drooped to mingle with the beard. The hermit's eyes were -bleared by sitting beside a smoky fire, and were overhung by bushy -brows. Now and then, as he talked, he would profanely quiet the hounds -at his feet, who, it must be admitted, were far more intelligent and far -cleaner than their master. - -"Glad ye've come, boys," he drawled. "Allus glad to see boys here. Glad -to see anybody. I been livin' all alone here five year now come fall, -sence my boy Jase left me to go over and cut ties in Pike County. Good -boy, Jase was, but him and me couldn't get along right well together. -Say, Doc, when ye get back to camp-ground ye kin give Ellick and the -Chief my regards fer sendin' up that sack of flour last week. Shore did -enj'y it." - -"We thought you might," said the doctor. "These boys wanted to take a -little hike to-night, and I brought them up to call on you." - -"Thet's fine--allus glad to see boys. Well, boys, guess ye want to see -my old thunderbolt, don't ye? I allus show all the boys that -thunderbolt----" He entered his house and with a long knife pried up a -flat flagstone, one of those forming the hearth before his fireplace. -Blackie saw him kneeling in a shaft of sunlight beside the cold embers, -and watched until he drew forth from its hiding-place what seemed to be -a long, thin, slate-colored piece of stone or iron. The hermit brought -it out and passed it around for all to see. It was pitted and twisted, -like a short iron bar that had been exposed to rough use and rust for -years. - -"Thet's my thunderbolt," the hermit explained. "Ten year ago come August -we had a whackin' big storm--black clouds piled high over the hills here -till it looked like midnight. All of a sudden, bang! comes a big blast -of lightnin', and hit thet old oak tree out thar--it was a big tree -then, but it's only a stump now. After the storm was all over I come out -thar and saw this stuck right in the middle of the tree--had to cut it -out with my old ax. Look at it close, young fellers--ye don't get a -chance to see a reg'lar thunderbolt every day." - -The boys hurriedly passed the famous object from hand to hand, for it -was suddenly growing dark and the doctor had announced that it was time -to leave. Blackie was not at all regretful to leave the neighborhood of -that ruined house, which became more unfriendly as the long shadows of -the pines barred and striped its mouldering walls. - -"How long has he lived here?" he asked Dr. Cannon as they hiked on the -return journey at a rapid pace. - -"All his life, I guess," was the reply. "He makes a poor living, cutting -railroad ties and raising a few pigs and chickens--just enough to scrape -along on. It just shows you what a life of ignorance and dirt can do to -a man." - -"Was that a true story about his thunderbolt?" - -"There aren't really any bolts thrown down during a thunderstorm. That -thing he had may be what is called a belemnite, or maybe just a piece of -meteoric iron he found, and made up the story about it afterward." - -On the return trip Jerry Utway discovered a patch of gooseberries. He -and his brother and Blackie and Sunfish clustered about and found a few -berries that had ripened. - -"Well, Blackie," said Sunfish, talking with his mouth full, "guess you -won't feel so lively to-morrow night." - -"Why? What's going to happen?" - -"Stuck-Ups." - -"What's that?" - -The two-striper put his thumbs in his ears and waggled his fingers -mysteriously. "You'll see," he said meaningly. "They initiate all the -new campers then. Big secret society; everybody tries to join, but they -don't always stand the tortures." - -"Do they have real good tortures at this camp?" asked Jake. "We joined -up at Camp Coutrell last year, so we don't have to get initiated here. -Oh, boy! We were black and blue for a week afterwards!" - -"What do they do to a guy?" asked Blackie. - -"You'll find out. The Grand Mogul makes the neophytes--the new guys--do -all sorts of things and go through all kinds of tortures." - -"I won't do it," announced Blackie, with a sudden sinking of the heart. - -"Oh, you'll have to, if you want to be one of the society. After you get -in, it's lots of fun helping to initiate the ones that join after you -do. And some day, maybe you can work up to be one of the officers, like -the Exalted Overseers of the Rabble or the Supreme Potent Inquisitors or -the Sublunary Administers of the Last Rites." - -"That sounds fine, but I don't want to be black and blue for a week. -Can't you get in without being tortured?" - -"Oh, no!" said Sunfish. "A guy has to go through perils and trials -before he ever amounts to anything in the world. Come on--we'll be the -last ones in camp as it is." - -The four hastened after that. A few hundred yards from camp they came -upon Fat Crampton, weary but still determined, and cheered him with the -news that the tents were not far away. Through the trees was borne the -rollicking chorus of the singers gathered about the fireplace in the -lodge, united in good fellowship and roaring out the lilting words of -the Lenape marching song: - - "Oh, I've travelled the world from shore to shore - And sailed on every sea, - But there ain't no spot in the whole darned lot - Like old Camp Le-na-pe!" - - - - - CHAPTER VII - INITIATION - - -The coming initiation ceremony of the Stuck-Up Society was the chief -subject of conversation during Tuesday. Many were the direful hints and -bloodthirsty tales that the new campers heard from the lips of seasoned -Lenape boys, who, of course, were all members of the society and who -were all occupied in getting out their regalia and ceremonial weapons in -preparation for the big night. - -Immediately after the supper dishes were washed, the lodge was cleared -of all except the dozen members of the society who had been chosen to -arrange the mess-hall as the Throne Room. Blackie, sitting on the steps -in front of his tent, could hear a prodigious thumping and running and -hurly-burly inside the lodge, but could see nothing, because blankets -had been hung over all the windows and the door was guarded. He was -gravely watching Slater, who had been initiated the year before. The -red-headed boy was putting the finishing touches on a war-club he had -just made, meanwhile whistling the Funeral March in a dolorous key. - -"How's that?" he asked, whirling the formidable club by its thong. "When -you're a member, you can bear one of these at initiations too." - -"Say, how do you make one of those clubs?" asked Blackie. - -"First you find a nice little white birch tree. You dig it up and cut it -off about two feet above the roots; then you peel it around the base and -sharpen the roots. Then you can cut your mark and decorations and -designs on the bark, like this. If you soak it in water soon after it's -cut, it gives it this nice, red, bloody color." - -"All loyal Stuck-Ups come to the Throne Room!" came a call through the -megaphone on the lodge porch. - -"So long," said Slater. "I've got to go up now. I'll see you later. Take -my advice and don't get fresh with the Grand Mogul, or it'll be all the -worse for you." - -He departed, swinging his club with gusto. Blackie left to join the -group of new campers who were gathered under the big black-cherry tree -by the baseball field to await the summons to their doom. There were -about forty of them; among them he found many he knew, mostly boys who -had never spent a season at Lenape. Lefkowitz, Guppy, Fat Crampton, and -Gallegher were those from Tent Four who, beside himself, were to prepare -to undergo the awful ordeal. They sat about nervously on the stone -fence, trying to reassure themselves by bold talk and a great deal of -forced laughter. - -"Here they come!" shouted one boy after a while, and instantly there was -silence. All eyes were turned to watch the approach of the Outer Guard, -which consisted of four older boys marching toward them in formation. -Each one of them wore nothing but a towel caught about his hips and -knotted on the side, and fantastic peaked hats some three feet high that -had been made by wetting an ordinary felt hat and pulling it over the -end of a baseball bat until the crown had stretched to a high point. The -faces and bodies of the Guard were barbarically daubed and streaked with -colored grease-paint, and each bore over his shoulder a broad-bladed -canoe paddle. - -They solemnly halted beside the secretly trembling neophytes, and -"Kipper" Dabney, who was in charge, spoke in hollow tones: "Line up by -the alphabet--those with names beginning with A are in front. You are -all about to undergo the dread inquisition of the Omnipotent Stuck-Up -Society. Meditate upon your benighted souls, and ponder how best you can -serve the spirit of Lenape!" - -He counted off the first four boys in the line, and marched them away to -the lodge porch. Blackie saw Dabney give a secret knock and a password; -the portals of the Throne Room unclosed; there was a flourish of -trumpets, and then an ominous silence that lasted until the Outer Guard -again came to take four more aspirants to the great hall of the society. - -Four by four, Blackie Thorne saw his fellows vanish into the echoing -Throne Room. He was almost at the end of the line, and did not know -whether to be pleased or sorry that he would be one of the last to be -initiated; but Fat Crampton went with the second bunch, and both Guppy -and Gallegher with the fourth. Blackie was surprised to see the latter, -about twenty minutes after he had entered, ejected somewhat roughly -through the door and escorted down the steps by two stalwart guards. - -"What's the matter?" he called. "What did they do to you, Irish?" - -"Aw, they booted me out of their old society!" mumbled Gallegher. "They -let that little squirt Guppy stay in, though. Guess I didn't bow down -and lick their boots enough to suit 'em." - -"Key down, you!" ordered one of the guards. "You have been told to go to -your tent. You, Thorne, get back in line and wait your turn." - -Blackie returned to his place, wondering at this new development. -Gallegher had failed to pass the trials for some reason; evidently the -Stuck-Ups did not accept everybody. But he figured that he was at least -as clever as Nightshirt Guppy and could stand any test they might put to -him. - -At last there were only three neophytes left under the -cherry-tree--Blackie, a younger boy named "Peanut" Westover, and Slim -Yerkes. Peanut had grown more and more timid as the minutes passed, and -at last ventured to address the others in quavering tones. - -"Do--do you think they're going to hurt us much?" - -"Maybe," said Blackie. "Who cares if they do?" - -"I sneaked my pillow out here with me," confessed the boy, "and stuffed -it in the seat of my trousers. Some of the kids said they paddle you -something awful." - -"Well, we're in for it now," said Yerkes, pointing. "Here come the -guards for us." - -The three neophytes were surrounded by the serious-faced paddle-bearers -and marched up the steps to the porch. Blackie assumed a careless -expression to conceal his inward misgivings, and whistled with as much -bravado as he could muster. - -Knock! Knock! Knock! Kipper Dabney whispered a password through the -keyhole, the door swung open, and they were marched inside. Two boys -with sashes about their waists, whom Blackie recognized as Ted Fellowes -and his younger brother, put pennant-hung bugles to their lips and blew -a clarion call that set the rafters ringing. The huge room was dark -except for a space in front of the empty fireplace, where a row of -lanterns shed a yellow glare which, however, did not reveal the faces of -three men who sat, robed in blankets, upon a high dais made of benches -piled one upon the other. About the circle the grotesquely-costumed -members of the society sat in grim silence, nursing their war-clubs and -looking with threatening anticipation at the three newcomers. - -From the darkness came the gruesome chords of the Funeral March, played -on the concealed piano; and down an aisle in the center of the seated -initiates proceeded the guarded trio. Peanut Westover was shivering with -fear, and his knees were knocking together at every step. With a roll of -drums they arrived before the dais, and were lined up facing the almost -indistinguishable robed figures of the Grand Master and his two -potentates. - -"Three more rash neophytes who would dare the wrath of the honorable -Stuck-Up Society," announced Kipper in a sepulchral voice, and with a -deep salaam he stepped back and left the three candidates together in -the middle of the lighted space. Blackie could feel everyone's eyes upon -him, and he had a tingling, shaky feeling somewhere inside; but he -resolved that not one of them should think for a minute that he was -afraid. - -The Grand Mogul upon his throne said nothing, but surveyed the three -boys before him with tantalizing deliberateness. Finally he spoke. - -"You have signified your desire to enroll your unworthy names upon the -laurel-crowned roster of the honorable Stuck-Up Society. In order to win -to the gates of Glory you must first slay the Dragon of Selfishness, -defeat the Giant of Fear and arm yourselves with the Helmet of -Knowledge, the Spear of Courage, and the Sword of Justice. Are you ready -to make the trial?" - -He looked at Peanut at the end of the line, and the boy quavered, -"Y-Y-Yes." - -"_Sir!_" roared the entire group within the lodge, bellowing with all -their might and beating their clubs upon the resounding floor. - -"Y-Y-Yes, sir," said Peanut, more frightened than ever. - -"What is your name?" asked the inquisitor. - -"P-P-Peanut, sir." - -"You have a most suspicious bulge in your trousers. Please remove the -padding, Master Seneschal." - -A boy stepped forth and removed the pillow that Peanut had placed where -he thought it would do the most good, while the circle of campers roared -with laughter at his predicament. - -"Let's see how smart you are, Peanut," commanded the Grand Mogul. "Spell -your name with a sneeze and a hiccough." - -Peanut looked bewildered. Blackie nudged him and whispered, loud enough -for everybody to hear, "Go ahead, kid--he won't hurt you. He's only Sax -McNulty dressed up a little." - -The crowd gasped, horrified at such unheard-of impudence from a -candidate. - -"One bell!" said the Mogul solemnly, looking gravely at the offender. -Off at one side, a dishpan struck with a drumstick resounded once with a -hollow clang. "Now--go on, Peanut." - -Taking courage, the smaller boy began: -"P--achoo!--E--hup!--A--choo!--N----" - -"That will do. Now get down on the floor and scramble like an egg." - -Peanut gave the best imitation of an egg in the process of being -scrambled that he could muster. When he had finished, Sax ordered him to -rise, and spoke again. - -"Neophyte Peanut, you must learn that the spirit of Lenape is found in -sacrifice and self-denial. Through secret channels I am informed that -your greatest weakness is wasting the time of your leaders with foolish -questions. To remind you that it is better for a camper to discover -things for himself, I command you not to ask a single question of -anybody all day to-morrow; if any member of the society hears you ask a -question, he will be entitled to hot-hand you once. Now, you tall, -gangling, skinny drink of water on the other end," he continued, turning -toward Slim Yerkes, "what have you got to say for yourself?" - -"Nothing, sir," said Slim quietly. - -"That's just the trouble with you. You're always so quiet that nobody -ever knows you're around. I'll bet a dollar to a flash of lightning that -you've got lots of talent but are afraid to let anybody know it. Camp is -the place where a boy learns to step out of the background and show what -he can do. You're here to-night to help amuse the Stuck-Ups. Let's -see--can you sing?" - -"No, sir." - -"There you go--I'm sure you're a mighty fine singer if only you had a -little confidence. Now clear your throat, sound off, and sing in a bold -voice 'How Dry I Am,' starting from the end and working forwards." - -"Am I dry how----" Slim croaked feebly. The campers set up a groan, but -the Grand Mogul pretended to be immensely pleased at the thin lad's -singing ability. - -"That's not so terrible. Now, just to make you get out of your shell, I -order you to put on a free show to-morrow for anybody that asks you. -Just pretend you're a whole circus side-show, and when they ask you, -give imitations of the Fat Lady, the India-Rubber Man, JoJo the -Dog-Faced Boy, the Snake Charmer, or anything else they happen to think -up. Now, next case for the executioner!" He transferred his attention to -Blackie Thorne. - -"All right," said Blackie insolently, deliberately leaving off the title -of respect. "What are you going to do to me?" - -"_Sir!_" roared the assembled Stuck-Ups. - -"Two bells! Three bells and the foolhardy neophyte hangs on the red -cedar at midnight!" intoned Sax McNulty. The dishpan gong resounded with -two slow strokes. "You have twice dared the wrath of the Stuck-Up -Society. What excuse have you to offer, you in the middle? What's your -name?" - -Blackie resolved that he would not be daunted by the rigmarole of the -initiation as his two companions had been, and answered as impudently as -he could, "Aw, I go by the name of Saxophone McNulty." - -The listeners broke into a pandemonium of hooting and roaring, almost -drowning out the booming of the gong sounding three bells. For the first -time the Grand Mogul's tone became deadly serious, and when he could -make himself heard he addressed Blackie with measured calm. - -"Though the Stuck-Up Society has assembled here to-night in a spirit of -fun, the unwritten code of good-fellowship should govern our every -action as much now as at any other time. You, Thorne, have deliberately -disregarded that code. Besides being an obvious falsehood, your answer -showed a silly wilfulness. In the few days you have been at Lenape you -have shown yourself to be a 'fresh guy' and a bully to those who are -weaker than yourself; you have shown a lack of self-control and a -selfish forgetfulness of the other fellow. You get lots of fun out of -playing jokes on somebody else, but as soon as they play a trick on you, -you get sore and go off by yourself and sulk. Am I right?" - -"I guess so, sir." Blackie hung his head; he hated to be talked to this -way in front of all the other campers. - -"Don't forget, Blackie," went on the leader, "that the difficult things -in the world are the ones worth fighting for. It's easy to be fresh, to -be a bully, to lose your temper, to stir up mischief; but the -worth-while things are gentlemanliness and self-control. Everybody here -will help you all they can, but only you yourself can fight the fight to -make yourself a good Lenape camper. When you have won that fight and -proved that you possess the spirit of sportsmanship and team-play, you -can have another chance to join the honorable ranks of the Stuck-Up -Society. The initiation ceremonies will now proceed without you. Go to -your tent!" - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - THE SNIPE HUNT - - -"Last night about dusk, when I was walking by the marsh down where the -creek empties into the lake, I was surprised to discover a large flock -of snipe. Now, hunting this wary game-bird is one of the sports that -Camp Lenape is famous for; and since in my opinion we couldn't have -better weather for it, I suggested to the Chief that we have a hunt this -very night." - -Mr. Carrigan, leader of Tent Nine and camp naturalist, was making a -report after supper the next day; and judging from the cheer that went -up at his words, the sport he spoke of was one of the greatest -attractions that camp life could offer. Blackie Thorne, sobered by his -humiliating experience in the Throne Room of the Stuck-Up Society the -previous night, listened with both ears as the councilor continued his -announcement. - -"I do not need to explain to campers who have spent a season at Lenape -that it is exceedingly difficult to capture the elusive snipe. It -requires great care and skill to catch them, and since it would be -impossible for all of us to go after them, it has become the custom for -the old campers, who have all bagged their birds, to give first chance -to the new boys and to act as 'beaters' and scare up the game for them. -They will take care of the inexperienced hunters, see that they are -placed in a good position along a well-known snipe 'run,' and do all -they can to drive the birds their way. - -"Now, since many of the new boys will not know about the habits and -method of catching this most famous of all game-birds, it will be best -to explain a few details. There are several varieties of snipe. The -variety that is usually found on the Lenape campus is the 'coo' snipe, -which may always be recognized by the fact that its eggs are not round -but cube-shaped. Another variety, the 'fan-tail' snipe, is found a few -miles north of here, near Camp Shawnee, our rivals on Iron Lake. The -snipe is a bird with long legs and long bill, and the meat is very -succulent, tasting like a cross between turkey and lemon pie. Ellick, -our genial chef, is well-known for his ability to fry snipe in the most -toothsome way, and has furthermore, out of his love for the sport, -offered a prize of one watermelon from the camp ice-box to the first -camper who brings in his snipe." - -Cheers followed, for Ellick, for Mr. Carrigan, and for the watermelon. - -"The best method of catching this cunning bird," continued the leader -when the noise had died down again, "is by means of the bag and lantern. -Each hunter should provide himself with a burlap bag--or a pillow-case -will do--and a lantern of some sort. When one of the beaters posts him -along a snipe 'run,' as we call the trails which the birds make along -the ground through the bushes on their way down to the lake for a drink, -the hunter should prop the mouth of the bag open with sticks, place a -small pyramid of rocks in front of it, and station himself behind the -bag with his lantern. He then at intervals gives the snipe mating-call, -like this--_coo-coo-coo!_--in a soft and liquid voice. The snipe, -aroused and startled by the approach of the beaters through the bushes, -flies into the air in alarm. Hearing the mating-call and mistaking the -pile of rocks for its nest, it flies toward the open bag, and dazzled by -the light in its eyes, blunders right into the bag. Then all the hunter -has to do is to grab the top of the bag quickly, and the bird is -imprisoned alive and brought back to camp. Remember--the first one to -catch his bird wins the watermelon!" - -He sat down amidst a tornado of cheering. During the uproar Wally -managed to make himself heard at the Tent Four table. - -"With four hunters in our bunch," he said, "we ought to have enough -snipe to-morrow to make a full meal for the whole table. Soon as we're -dismissed, you fellows hop around and see if Ellick hasn't got some old -bags you can borrow. Don't let anybody else get ahead of you if you can -help it--it wouldn't be a bad idea to have some watermelon to eat along -with that fried snipe!" - -As soon as the whistle sounded, Blackie joined the torrent of boys that -poured out into the kitchen to besiege Ellick for bags, boxes--anything -in which a bird might be trapped. The chef looked about genially, -finding something for most of them, smiling and assuring them that the -prize offer was true, showing them the big green watermelon that would -fall to the lucky Nimrod. Blackie was fortunate enough to find an empty -potato-sack, and after providing himself with the powerful flash-lantern -he had brought to camp, was ready to put himself in the hands of the -experienced beaters, who would show him the correct place to post -himself. - -To his surprise, Sax McNulty, the councilor who had served the previous -night as Grand Mogul and who had ordered Blackie's ejection from the -Throne Room, singled him out. The gloomy-faced comedian nodded somberly. - -"Hello, Thorne! Going to redeem yourself and make the camp forget last -night by being the first to get your snipe?" - -"I don't know about that," said Blackie, "but I sure am going to try. -Say, Sax!" - -"What?" - -"I--I'm sorry I was so fresh last night. I won't forget what you said -about being a good sport. And I didn't mean to act the way I did." - -"Oh, that's all right. You didn't hurt my feelings any. Just to show you -we're good friends, I'm going to take you to the best place on the -campus for snipe. I know where there's a 'run' where as many snipe have -been caught as in all the other places within six miles. I'll be your -beater. Got your outfit? Good. Trot along!" - -He led the way at a rapid pace and Blackie followed, lugging his bag and -lantern. They cut straight through the woods away from the lake; in -places it was already so dark that the boy switched on his light to see -the way. McNulty made so many turns and twists that it was not long -before Blackie lost all sense of direction. At last, much to the boy's -satisfaction, the leader announced that they had reached the place. He -helped Blackie rig up the sack with the mouth propped and held open by -sticks, and arranged a pile of stones in front. - -"In my experience," said McNulty, "I think Mr. Carrigan is wrong about -the mating-call. It really sounds more like _kuk-kuk-kuk_ than -_coo-coo_." He made the boy practise the call over and over until he was -satisfied. - -"Now," he said, "you just wait here until I beat a few down your way." - -He departed stealthily through the undergrowth, and Blackie crouched -waiting behind his glaring lamp. For ten or fifteen minutes he heard -nothing but the sweet whistles of the whippoorwill and the timid -twilight noises of the woods. Then from the front came a series of -halloos and the crackling of a body passing through the brush. McNulty's -voice was raised in the beater's call, advancing swiftly toward him. The -boy clucked as he had been told. There was a whirr like that of wings, -and a flashing shadow in the bright beam of the light. Blackie fell -forward on his bag, sure that some wild thing was struggling among its -folds. - -"Get any?" asked McNulty, rushing up with a long stick in his hand. -"Here--let me take a look--careful now! Don't let him out, whatever you -do! Easy--I'll hold it, and you reach down and pull him out. Don't be -scared--they just peck you a little bit." - -Gingerly, and not at all sure that he would like to be pecked by a sharp -bill even a little bit, Blackie put his arm in the bag and felt about. -His fingers closed on something, and hastily he jerked it forth. Instead -of a struggling mass of feathers, his hand held only a bunch of tangled -grass and twigs. - -Sax McNulty snorted in disgust. "Thought you had a snipe! Huh! Here I -drove a whole covey of them right at you! Didn't you see them?" - -"Yes, I thought I saw one fly right into the bag! How did this get -here?" - -"You ought to know. Well, guess I'll have to go through it all -again--and it's no fun beating these bushes. I'm all scratched up -already. If you don't have better luck this time, we'll have to go -somewhere else. I'll have to go almost to the top of the mountain as it -is--I've already covered the ground near here." - -He moved away and disappeared into the July night. Blackie settled -himself for a long wait. - -It was lonely there in the woods. He thought over one by one every -incident that had happened since he had landed in camp. Already four -days of his slender two weeks at Lenape had passed; only ten days more -and he would have to return to the hot city, far from the exciting -adventures of forest and lake and lodge. - -It seemed to him that hours had passed since Sax had left him. He -listened with all his might to try and pick up the leader's shouting off -in the silent woods. Mosquitoes, attracted by the light, swarmed about -him and made him miserable with their tormenting hum; he slapped at -them, but still they came to sting his neck and wrists and ankles. He -would have turned off the light, but knew that if he did so he would -miss his chance of bringing in any snipe; and he was determined not to -return to camp without at least one bird. By this time many of the new -boys should have captured their prey; and he could not think of -returning empty-handed. Why didn't McNulty return? - -Gradually it dawned upon him that the leader would not return, that he -had not intended to return. It must all be a joke! Just another of those -innumerable hoaxes which camp custom had decreed should be played upon -all tenderfoot campers during the first days of their first season under -canvas. It must be just a conspiracy among the experienced campers and -leaders to decoy the credulous greenhorns out into the woods alone under -the pretext of a hunt for snipe. With a bag and lantern! The whole story -seemed so impossible to him that he wondered how he could have been -taken in by it. Sitting behind a pile of stones and a gaping -potato-sack, cooing and waiting for birds to fly his way! McNulty must -have bundled up grass and twigs into a ball and thrown it into the bag -when he had approached on the pretense of "beating" the birds toward the -light. And how he and the rest of the knowing ones would laugh at -Blackie when he returned to camp, shamefaced and abashed at having been -hoodwinked by such a ridiculous flimflam! Snipe that laid cube-shaped -eggs! - -The thing must be faced like a good sport, however. If he hurried back -to camp, he might still arrive in time to watch some of the other -victims come in, and thus have the laugh on them----He suddenly realized -that he was not sure which was the way back to camp. He had depended on -the guidance of McNulty, and did not have the least idea where he was, -or how far away the tents might be. Well, he would have to explore a -bit, pioneer the way home for himself. - -Carrying his flash-lamp hooked on his belt, he beat his way through the -scrub carefully, on the lookout for snakes and other dangerous dwellers -in the forest. He blundered across a narrow ravine, pushed his way -through a clump of laurels, and climbed a stone fence. The light showed -on the rutted tracks of a lane that wandered through the trees--a lane -that seemed somehow familiar. Sure enough! It was the road that led to -the gloomy house of Rattlesnake Joe, the hermit; it was the trail he and -the others had followed only two nights before! - -He knew his way now. The stars were out, and a half-moon was tilted -among the tree-tops. He snapped off his lamp, so that it would not draw -too many mosquitoes, and found he could follow the lane well enough by -moonlight. Taking the direction that led away from the hermit's dwelling -and toward the campus, he trudged along by himself, almost laughing to -think how easily the snipe-trick had worked. It was a good joke; and -next year, if he came to camp, he could have the fun of taking some -scary tenderfoot out into the woods and planting him there for the -evening, to coo and wait for snipe that would not come. - -Only about five minutes passed before he was aware that someone was -coming toward him up the road; he could hear the low mumble of voices -only a few hundred yards in front. Could one of them be McNulty, alarmed -because Blackie had not yet turned up in camp, and coming to seek him -and break the news? If so, he was due for a little scare; the jester -would himself be the butt of a jest. Blackie planted himself behind a -thick oak trunk, ready to jump out with a shout and throw the bag over -the leader's head and give him the fright of his life. - -The voices came nearer; one of them harsh and bullying, the other -sounding strangely weak and pleading. Blackie pondered. Neither of them -could be McNulty. They must be strangers, even men who, finding him -alone, might do him harm. He resolved to keep quiet and let them pass -without noticing him. Inwardly congratulating himself for turning off -his light, he concealed himself as best he could behind the friendly -oak. The voices grew louder; they were rough, uncouth, and profane. - -Two slouching figures emerged from the dark, and stopped right beside -the tree Blackie had chosen. He could have reached out his arm and -touched them both. There was a scratching sound as a match was drawn -across a rock; a red flicker burst forth and revealed two faces bent to -light cigarettes. The face of the taller man was seamed and dirty, and -the unshaven jowls were covered with gray stubble. A green patch hung -over one eye, giving him a peculiar and sinister look. The other man was -younger, with a slack mouth and watery eyes, and a vacant face that -showed he had little or no will of his own. Both were garbed in loose, -patched garments streaked with mud and torn in places. - -"Tramps!" thought Blackie. "Gee, they sure look hard-boiled! If they -ever find me here----" He crouched behind his shelter, fearing that they -had seen him already. - -"Aw, what ya want to be yeller for?" the older man was growling. "I tell -ya it's a sure thing! He lives all alone up there--I heard all about him -down in Elmville. The hermit, they call him around here, and everybody -knows he's got a silver mine somewheres in the mountains that he won't -tell about! Every once in a while he sneaks off and digs up some silver -and buries it under the stones of his fireplace!" - -"Are ya sure, Reno?" asked the other, in snivelling tones. - -"'Course I'm sure! I seen him myself the other night, diggin' up the -stones at the fireplace and takin' somethin' out that looked like a bar -of silver. There ya stand moanin' like a sick chicken, and all we have -to do to get rich is just walk in and tie him up and take the silver!" - -"We might be seen!" The younger man's terror was increasing every -minute. "And he's got dogs, too." - -"Blast the dogs! They're all chained up anyway." - -"But how about them kids?" - -"Aw, they're all in bed by now. If you'd seen that bar of silver like I -saw, you'd pull yer freight and get the job done." - -Blackie wanted to cry out and tell them that the hermit was poor, that -he had no money or treasure at all, that the man must have seen him -looking at his precious thunderbolt which he kept under the hearthstone. -But his mouth was so dry with terror that he could not make a sound. He -leaned against the tree for support, and the lantern on his belt clinked -against the rough bark. - -"What's that?" The weak-chinned man jumped nervously about. - -"Aw, yer jumpy as a cat to-night! 'Fraid of the dark, ain't ya, Lew?" - -"I thought I heard somebody in the bushes." - -"Not likely. If I thought there was, I'd pull out his windpipe. There -ain't nothin' to be scared of. Now, will ya come, or will I have to do -the job meself?" - -"I--I'll come, Reno." - -The two men moved off in the direction of the hermit's house. Some -minutes passed before Blackie dared to relax his body from the stiffened -position his fright had put him into. Reason told him to get away from -the spot before he was discovered and would have to face the wrath of -the two tramps alone; but curiosity and an uncanny fascination seemed to -draw him to the house whose grim face had somehow haunted him since -first he had arrived at Lenape. With lagging steps, he followed down the -lane toward the fateful, tumbledown dwelling. - -As he drew near the door, his terror increased. The hounds were making a -dismal racket in their kennel, rattling their chains fiercely. One -small, dusty window on the ground floor showed red with firelight; the -rest of the house was dark. Drawn and yet repelled by what might be -going on behind the weather-beaten walls, he dared the chance of one of -the dogs escaping and attacking him, crept to the door, and listened. - -The sound of voices raised in anger came to him, a bedlam hubbub of -words. He thought he could distinguish the peculiar, slouchy dialect of -Rattlesnake Joe above the others. - -"Ye're crazed, ye devils! I'll have the law onto ye!" - -"Will ya tell us where yer silver mine is located?" - -"No! I won't tell ye a tarnal thing----" - -There was the clatter of a chair overturned on the board floor. A -piercing, terrifying scream, hoarse and horrid, came once and broke off. -A heavy body slipped noisily to the floor. Afterward endured a hushed, -strained silence, during which Blackie heard with distinctness the -beating of his own pulse and the hollow ticking of a clock beyond the -door. - -The wind was rising; a gust swept over the roof of the somber house, -rattling the loose shingles and stirring the tops of the pines. Its -coming brought panic to Blackie Thorne. He turned and, with eyes -starting with horror, fled away into the dark with the ghastly memory of -that hoarse, despairing scream still ringing in his ears. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - A RAINY DAY - - -Blackie did not mention to a single soul what he had seen and heard at -the hermit's house the night of the snipe hunt. He wanted nothing more -than to forget the terror which had gripped him by the throat as he -stood outside the door of the house in the woods. Indeed, when the -crystal clear morning came and the busy camp routine began, it was hard -to believe that he had witnessed any dark deed the night before. - -As the days passed, he almost forgot he had ever overheard the two -tramps planning robbery and violence upon a harmless old man. The -glorious Fourth of July came and went, leaving only burnt fingers and a -powder-blackened litter of colored papers on the baseball field as -souvenirs of the sparkling and explosive celebration. Wally continued -his lessons in the Australian crawl, and also taught the Tent Four group -many things about the art of diving. Camp Lenape held a field meet, and -Blackie was awarded three ribbons of various colors as trophies of his -prowess in running and jumping. Tent Four wiped out its bad record by -winning inspection three times in succession. On Friday night each tent -group put on an impromptu show or stunt, ranging from a vaudeville act -with a trick horse (front part, Gil Shelton; hind legs, Spaghetti -Megaro) to an uproarious imitation of a tent full of sleepy-heads -turning out for Reveille. Blackie and Gallegher spent much of their time -studying to pass their requirements for the honor emblem, and at the -Indian council on Monday night they both were summoned before the -Chief's seat and proudly received the coveted badge. - -Blackie was awake twenty minutes before First Call on Tuesday morning, -and passed the time stitching the swastika emblem on the front of his -jersey. The sky was dull and leaden; for the first time since he had -come to camp there was a smell of rain in the air. When the campers were -returning up the hill after the Indian dip the storm broke, bucketing -down in torrents; the boys went up to breakfast in raincoats and -ponchos, and stood assembled for flag-raising on the long porch of the -lodge. - -"I was going out with the pioneers to help build a signal-tower this -morning," Blackie grumbled over his oatmeal at breakfast, "and here it's -got to go and rain. Gee, what rotten luck!" - -"Why worry?" asked Ken Haviland; "Rain doesn't spoil anything here at -Lenape. Last year we had so much fun on rainy days that I've been -wishing for a wet day soon. We'll have a good time to-day, and don't -forget it." - -"What will happen?" - -"Oh, lots of things. Everybody stays here in the lodge, and we have -boxing and wrestling matches, indoor track meets, or signalling -contests. Maybe some of the leaders will tell stories. Rainy days are -good times to practise for the big show that comes at the end of every -section, or to get the dope on map-making, life-saving drill, forestry -and merit badges. Some fellows can work in the carpenter shop on -handicraft. I remember one wet day last year we had a big mud-marathon -around the lodge. Everybody put on old clothes and went through a big -obstacle race; we almost laughed ourselves sick." - -Haviland's prophecy was correct; the program for the day was more active -and strenuous than for a day of sunshine. The campers put the lodge in -order, cleared away a big space in the center, and brought in a tall -heap of firewood for the cheerful blaze that was crackling in the stone -fireplace. Wally Rawn, who as officer of the day was supervising the -program, caught Blackie by the arm as he was helping to lay down some -large, padded wrestling mats. - -"Blackie, will you go in to the Chief's office and get the O. D. report -blank for me?" - -"You bet, Wally!" - -Blackie skipped over to a far corner of the lodge, where the Chief had a -small room fitted with a desk and cabinet to hold the camp letters and -records. The door was slightly ajar, and two voices sounded beyond. The -Chief had a visitor. Blackie paused at the door, hesitating to intrude -upon the conversation. - -"Just stopped on my way from Elmville," came the heavy voice of the -visitor. "Couldn't find out anything about the matter there, and as I -was riding back over the mountains I thought I might as well stop on the -chance that you might know something about it." - -"Mr. Lane, who brings in our provisions, told me what he'd heard in -town," answered the Chief. "That's all I know. Wednesday night it -happened, wasn't it?" - -"That's what the coroner thinks. The body wasn't found till -Friday--nobody goes up there, you know, and the old man lived alone. It -was just by luck that one of the neighbors stopped in to see him, and -found the body." - -"I'm sorry I can't help you, Sheriff. It's a terrible thing to have such -a murder so near camp. And the old hermit wouldn't have hurt a fly." - -Sheriff! Murder! Blackie clutched the doorpost and almost fell over at -the words. The hermit! - -"Well," said the sheriff, scraping back his chair as he rose, "if you do -hear anything, I live over by Newmiln Center. You can send word to me -there. It's a puzzle, sure enough. As brutal a thing as I ever heard of -in all my experience; if it was robbers that did it, they surely didn't -find anything." - -"I hope you catch them," said the Chief fervently. "And I'm sorry I -can't give you any clue. Good day!" - -Blackie just had time to collect his thoughts and run away from the door -before he might be discovered listening. He dashed off and joined the -group about the wrestling-mats, covertly watching the man who came out -of the office. The sheriff was a heavy-set, black-mustached man in -spurred and muddied riding-boots and glistening slicker. He stamped -across to the back door and, while Blackie watched at a window, mounted -a waiting horse and cantered off down the muddy road through the -downpour. - -The watching boy heaved a sigh of relief; he had escaped being caught -and questioned. The two tramps must have tried to force the hermit to -tell what he knew. The old man, of course, possessed neither a treasure -nor the secret of a silver mine, and in the struggle he had somehow -been--killed. Murder! What an ugly-sounding word it was! Blackie -shivered. He wanted to forget; but he knew that never in this world -would he lose the memory of that sullen, threatening house and the -racking scream that had issued from it on that fatal Wednesday night. - -He looked about him. The rainy-morning program in the lodge was already -in full swing. In front of the fireplace Lieutenant Eames had roped off -a square space and was giving boxing instruction to an interested group. -Two older boys, their fists hidden in bulging padded gloves, were -clumsily sparring together under a rapid stream of cautions and advice -from the lieutenant and a perfect hail of cheers and urgings from the -howling bunch of spectators. - -"Put your body behind it!" counseled the West Pointer. "Place your blows -where they'll do the most good--don't thrash around wildly. There--not -bad! Don't run away, Pete; stand up to him and defend yourself with the -gloves. Whoa!" The two boys, smarting under a few well-placed blows, -were mixing it in earnest, their fists whirling rapidly but with little -damaging effect. "That's enough--you can't fight best when you lose your -tempers. Now, who's next?" - -"Match me with somebody!" urged Chink Towner. "It's my turn now, -Lieutenant!" - -"Whom do you want to take on, Chink?" - -The onlookers chorused a suggestion. "Blackie! Blackie Thorne! Here he -is now! Take him on, Chink!" - -"How about it, Blackie?" asked the lieutenant. "Want to try a round or -two with Chink?" - -Blackie's scare was still too close to him to want to think about -anything else, but he resolved not to display the white feather before -the group. He could not refuse. "Aw, sure, I'm not afraid of him. Give -me the gloves!" - -Jerry Utway volunteered to serve as his second, and jumped to help him. -Jake Utway, not to be outdone by his twin brother, took Chink's corner -and laced on his gloves. The news of the bout spread around the lodge -from group to group, until quite a number of campers crowded about the -ring. Ellick, the chef, drifted in from the kitchen, and agreed to judge -the contest. Tent Three rallied to support Chink, their champion, and -the Tent Four boys patted Blackie on the back and whispered words of -advice or encouragement. - -Wally Rawn came over while Blackie was stripping to shorts and tennis -shoes. "You shouldn't be matched with Towner," he said. "He's got a -longer reach than you have, and knows more about boxing than you do." - -"I can't back out now. I'm not scared of him anyway," Blackie muttered, -but his heart was racing and he had a chilly feeling in the pit of his -stomach. - -"Well, remember to keep your guard up all the time, and don't lose your -head. Another thing--don't set your body stiff until you're ready to -hit; if you're relaxed a blow doesn't hurt so much. But don't let him -take you off balance, or you'll find yourself chewing the floor." - -Bewildered by the shouting and the hasty advice, Blackie found himself -in the center of the ring. The lieutenant was introducing the -contenders. - -"In this corner, Battling Towner, the Chinese challenger; to my right, -Kid Blackie, the Bloodthirsty Bantam. Shake hands, gentlemen! First -round--time!" - -The two boys closed in upon each other warily, exchanged a few watchful -feints and passes. Chink led with his left; Blackie sprang out of the -way, and swung harmlessly at the air. - -"Get into him, Thorne!" squealed Jerry Utway. "This ain't a -pillow-fight! Hit him!" - -Chink feinted with his left and aimed a blow with his right that caught -Blackie on the arm, whirling him half around. He caught his balance, -leaped forward, and closed in a clinch so tight that neither boy got in -any blows before they were separated. They parted; there followed a few -seconds of brisk sparring; then Chink, with lightning footwork, dodged -under Blackie's guard and planted a thudding glove upon his face. -Blackie was knocked backwards; he shut his eyes and crouched with his -gloves over his face and his arms tight to his chest. The spectators -shouted, cheering for Chink. - -"First blood for the Chinese lightweight!" - -"Yay, Tent Three!" - -"Get into him, Blackie!" - -Blackie set his teeth. The blow had stunned him for a minute, but it had -the effect of making him forget the crowd, forget everything but the -crouched figure of the boy before him--his antagonist. The faces of the -watchers and the referee seemed to show through an unreal haze. He -struck out at Towner, and landed on his body; but Chink retaliated with -another crushing blow upon the nose. A numb feeling settled upon -Blackie's senses; his limbs seemed to be yards long, the gloves to weigh -tons. What was he doing out here in front of the crowd, jumping around -breathlessly and being struck again and again? Even Chink's face came to -him half hidden by a dreamy mist. He fought and fought, yet Chink never -seemed to be touched; he darted about, apparently placing his fists -where he pleased. - -A gong sounded; hands reached out and pulled Blackie to his chair. He -felt a splash of cold water on his face; Jerry Utway was rubbing his -arms with a towel. "Round one--won by Mistah Chink!" came Ellick's -voice. - -Again Blackie was aware that the gong had sounded, and once more he was -facing Towner. The other boy was breathing heavily, but was apparently -as light on his feet and as ready with his hands as ever. - -"After him, Blackie--the best defense is an attack!" It was Wally's -voice, coming coolly to him from beyond the ring. Blackie caught his -breath and plunged with whirling arms after the shadowy form of his -opponent. Chink closed in for an exchange of body blows and another -clinch, in which Blackie got the worst end of it. Towner was depending -mostly upon blows to the face, concentrating all his attack upon the -nose and mouth, placing shrewd hits on these places one after another. -Blackie had the feeling that he was fighting against a ghostly figure, -an antagonist as elusive and intangible as smoke. He began hitting out -blindly, thoughtlessly, raging and hating Towner with all his might. A -red flag seemed to drop before his eyes, and he charged with his fists -hammering like pistons, careless of the rain of blows that fell upon his -unprotected head. He was seeing red, running wild, losing all his skill -and direction in a mad, senseless rush. Through the clamor of the crowd -came Wally's low counsel again. - -"Keep your head, Blackie! Self-control!" - -The mist began to clear. He felt a jolting, sharp blow on the chin, was -aware that Chink was off to one side and that in his blind charge he was -nowhere near his antagonist. He fell back, protecting his face; then, -suddenly, he whirled and struck out with his right arm extended. His -glove seemed to plunge forward of its own accord and land with a smack -on Chink's face. The other boy fell back with an amazed look in his -eyes. - -"Time! End of de bout--no decision!" cried Ellick. - -There were shouts of protest; the campers wanted a fight to a finish. -Ellick only shook his head and nodded in the direction of Blackie's -corner. Blackie saw his comrades staring at him strangely. - -"He tapped you one on the nose, all right," said Jerry, giving him a cup -of water. - -Blackie looked with surprise at his hand, still encased in a leather -glove. The casing was stained with a few darkening crimson drops. - -"What of it? I can still lick him! I'm just getting started!" - -Lieutenant Eames crossed over to them with one arm on Chink's shoulder. - -"Sure, you're not whipped by a long sight, Thorne," he said. "But we can -match up you two again some other time. Now, you two boys have been -swatting each other all around the ring enough to satisfy anybody. -Another thing, Blackie--I can see that you don't know the first thing -about scientific self-defense, but you have two things that are most -essential to a good boxer. You have good muscular control, and you keep -your wits about you all the time. If you want to spend some time with -me, I think after a few lessons I can make a pretty fair boxer out of -you." - -"Say, will you, Lieutenant? I'd sure like that!" - -He relinquished his gloves to another boy, and a third match began, -while Wild Willie Sanders and Soapy Mullins began a wrestling bout. The -group split up and drifted away, while Blackie slipped into his clothes. -His nose had stopped bleeding, and he was feeling a glow of happiness -that came from the words of the boxing instructor. He felt a hand on his -shoulder, looked up and saw Wally. - -"Well, you took a beating to-day, all right!" - -"Chink didn't lick me," frowned Blackie. "They stopped us because he -tapped me on the nose." - -"He hammered you all over the ring; I said you were no match for him. -Chink Towner did give you a beating; but I was watching another fight at -the same time." - -"Gee, you talk funny sometimes, Wally. What fight do you mean?" - -"You were fighting against your own self, Blackie, when you were there -in the ring. And you won that fight. I saw you. For a minute you got -mad, lost your control; then you got hold of yourself and began to use -your head. It was a good thing for you to go against a fighter better -than yourself; you learned to take your medicine and keep your temper. -And they're both good things for a young lad to know." - - - - - CHAPTER X - THE LIE - - -"You put up a pretty good scrap," grunted Gallegher approvingly. - -Blackie had donned his shirt and sweater after the boxing bout. "Thanks, -Irish," he said. - -"I've seen lots of tough fights, and I know what I'm sayin', see? Say, -are you tired?" - -"No, not very." - -"What do you say we take a little walk? I'm sick of bein' shut in this -lodge all mornin'." - -Blackie looked out a window; the rain had slackened, but still drizzled -down with settled persistence. "In the rain?" - -"Sure--what's a few drops matter? Put on your raincoat and come along." - -The two boys slipped into their rainproof ponchos, and then Gallegher -led the way a short distance through the wet woods behind camp. Here he -turned off and struck through the brush toward the mountain, following a -line of lead pipe that ran from a spring above down to the lodge, -supplying fresh, cold water for the use of the camp. A trail had been -cut when the men had laid the pipe, but it was overgrown and indistinct, -and it was easy to see that few campers ever passed that way. After -about a quarter of a mile of trudging in silence through the dripping -forest, Gallegher turned off and floundered through the undergrowth -until he came to the thick trunk of a fallen tree that lay rotting on -the ground. - -"Here we are," he said. "Not so bad, eh? I come here lots of times." - -"What for?" asked Blackie curiously. - -"I'll show you." Gallegher stuck out his chin, and winked meaningly. -"Have a good time, away from all the baby kids in camp. See what I -mean?" - -He fished out a crumpled, gaudily-colored package from his shirt, and -held it out to Blackie. Within were a few cheap cigarettes. - -"Gee!" exclaimed Blackie, "cigarettes! Where did you get them, Irish?" - -"Aw, I always carry some. I like to get away and have a little smoke by -myself now and then. Have one." - -"You've been smoking all the time we've been up here? Say, don't you -know the Chief sends a guy home right away if he's caught smoking?" - -"What of it? He has to catch us first, and nobody ever comes here. Don't -chew the rag so much; light up and be happy." Gallegher winked again. - -"Naw--I'm in training for boxing practice with the Lieutenant," said -Blackie uncomfortably. "Smoking is bad for the wind, and I got to have -good lungs to be a good scrapper." - -"Aw, one won't hurt you," Gallegher jeered. "Know what I think? I think -you're scared you'll get caught. You're just yellow, like all the rest -of the babies at this camp." - -"I'm not scared. Here, give me one, Irish. I'll show you." - -Blackie seized one of the white cylinders and hastily lighted the end. -Gallegher lit another and settled back on the fallen tree trunk, puffing -away expertly. - -"Pretty soft, eh?" - -"Not bad," agreed Blackie, fumbling amateurishly with the lighted -cigarette. He coughed and wiped away the tears that formed in his eyes -as the smoke blew into them. "Say, are you sure nobody ever comes around -here?" - -"Sure they don't--especially on a rainy day. I've had a quiet little cig -here lots of times. Don't get scared, kid--we'll be safe. Besides, now -we both got the honor emblem, we can get away with lots of stuff. If you -wear one of these things on your chest"--he indicated the green swastika -and the "L" upon his sweater--"you can put over stuff that would be too -raw for other guys to get away with. I've been kind of layin' low -lately, but believe me, there's goin' to be some fun around this camp -pretty soon, and I'm goin' to get back at the guys that kicked me out of -the Stuck-Up initiation. Are you with me, Blackie? They did the same -dirty trick to you." - -"Sure--sure I'm with you, Irish." - -"Have another fag, then." - -"No, one is enough for me." - -"Come on, have another. What are you afraid of? We can eat a hunk of -candy before we go back to camp, and nobody will ever know a thing about -it." - -Blackie accepted another, but threw the stump away before he had smoked -much of it. He didn't like it, but the idea of sitting there hidden in -the woods doing a forbidden act that would be heavily punished if it -were known gave him a devil-may-care, excited feeling. - -Later, after they had sneaked back to camp for swim, he did not feel -quite so dashing. The secret act now appeared sordid. He felt -uncomfortable and guilty; he could not forget what he had done, and went -to bed that night with an uneasy fear that he might be discovered any -minute. He dropped off to sleep assuring himself that never again would -he let Gallegher or anybody else persuade him to break a camp rule and -do an unworthy, hole-in-the-corner deed. - -He awoke some time later. A pocket flashlight was shining in his face, -and he blinked fearfully for half a minute before he came to his senses. -Dimly he heard Wally whisper close to his ear. - -"Get up and put on your bathrobe, Thorne. I want you to come up to the -lodge with me." - -"Wha--what for?" - -"You'll find out later." - -He could hear the heavy breathing of his tent-mates about him as he -struggled into his bathrobe; but when he stepped outside the tent he was -surprised to find that all of them were not asleep. Gallegher, also -attired in his bathrobe, stood waiting outside on the path with Wally, -who had not yet undressed for the night. - -"What time is it, Wally?" asked Blackie. - -"About ten-thirty. Now, keep quiet and don't wake up the rest of the -fellows. Come along." - -The two boys followed him up to the lodge. The rain had stopped, and a -crisp, bracing wind was blowing up from the lake. As they mounted the -steps leading to the lodge porch, they saw a light still burning in the -little office in one corner of the building. The Chief had not gone to -bed yet, either. Wally opened the outer door, and stepped inside to let -them enter. - -"This way, you two." - -The boys exchanged scared glances. There was no time to do more. They -stepped inside. The Chief turned in his chair and bent a serious look -upon them. - -"Sit down, Gallegher, Thorne. Come on in, Mr. Rawn. Now, I have had your -leader bring you boys up here because I wanted to ask you some -questions." - -Gallegher slumped in his seat with a scowl. Blackie shivered; he did not -dare to face the Chief, but looked away, fearing what was to come. - -"Mr. Rawn tells me," continued the Chief in an even tone, "that to-night -at Taps, he noticed that something fell out of Gallegher's pocket as he -was undressing. He brought this object to me. Here it is." - -Blackie stole a glance at the man's outstretched hand. It was as he -feared. The Chief was holding a crumpled paper package of cigarettes. - -"I asked him to bring Gallegher to me right away. He was seen going into -the woods this morning, and as Thorne was with him, I asked that both of -you be brought up to talk with me. The directors of Camp Lenape, knowing -that smoking is injurious to the health of growing boys, have a rule -that any boy who smokes while at camp will be sent home in disgrace at -once. Have you both heard that rule?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Yes, Chief." - -"I am going to ask each of you a question, and you are on your honor to -answer it truthfully. Gallegher, have you smoked cigarettes while at -Camp Lenape?" - -There was a moment of silence. Gallegher bit his lip and considered. He -was caught with the goods. He shrugged and mumbled, "Yes, sir." - -Blackie felt the Chief's eyes upon him. "Thorne, have you been smoking -at camp, too?" - -He must not be sent home! Blackie shifted in his chair and tried to -think. Sent home in disgrace, away from all the wonderful times at camp; -sent back to town, to face his mother's disappointed eyes, to be in the -city and know that he had missed the big camp show, the boat regatta, -the swimming meet---- The Chief and Wally couldn't be sure--Gallegher -wouldn't give him away---- - -"Answer me, Blackie." - -There was only one way out. "N-No, Chief." - -He had done it! He had lied; deliberately he had told an untruth to save -his own skin. He was glad the Chief was not looking at him any more, but -had turned his attention to Gallegher. Blackie stared at the floor. - -"Gallegher, I'm glad you haven't made it any worse by lying about your -act," the director was saying. "Now, because you've owned up to it like -a man, and because I know that you have lived in a bad neighborhood back -in town and might in that way have picked up some wrong ideas about -things, I'm going to give you a choice that may permit you to stay on -here at camp. You can either leave camp to-morrow, or stay here and chop -wood for the kitchen three hours a day. You'll lose your honor emblem, -of course. Which is it--stay or leave?" - -Gallegher turned away, so that the Chief could not see his face. "I'll -stay and chop wood," he muttered with a catch in his voice. -"And--thanks, Chief." - -"I'm glad you took that choice, Gallegher. Camp has done a lot for you, -and I'd hate to lose you now. Mr. Rawn, you may all go back to your tent -now. Good-night!" - -Wally nodded briefly, and the three left the lighted office. Not a word -was spoken; they walked slowly and thoughtfully back to Tent Four, and -turned in silently. - -Between his blankets, Blackie drew a deep breath for the first time -since he had been awakened. If Gallegher only did not give him away, -nobody would ever know, and things would be just the same as before. -Nevertheless, he did not find it easy to get to sleep, and woke before -dawn to lie wretchedly in his bunk until the activity of the day would -begin and he might win forgetfulness in the rush of the day's program. - -The first blow fell just before breakfast, when the entire camp strength -was lined up after flag salute and morning Call to the Colors. Hungrily -expectant and waiting for the command to march in to mess, the arrayed -campers were surprised to find that the Chief delayed in giving the -command. He stood beside the flagpole with a stern look in his eyes. The -boys stirred in the ranks, shifted their feet curiously, -uncomprehendingly. - -"Why doesn't he tell us to go to breakfast?" - -"Gee--I never saw him do this before!" - -"Quiet in the ranks!" came the command of Mr. Avery, the officer of the -day. "Attention!" - -The expectant bodies stiffened. The Chief cleared his throat. - -"Timothy Gallegher, five paces forward!" he said. - -A ripple of astonishment ran down the line. Blackie felt a movement at -his side; Gallegher had left his place and now appeared in front of the -Chief, standing with a strange white look on his drawn face, swaying -slightly in his place. - -"Timothy Gallegher, you have been guilty of conduct unbecoming to a -Lenape camper. You will here, in the sight of all your comrades, be -stripped of the honor emblem which you have been found unworthy to -wear." - -The crowd gasped. Gallegher never moved, staring in front of him with a -blind tenseness. The Chief reached into his pocket and drew forth a -clasp-knife, opened one of the sharp small blades. From the end of the -line came a muffled tattoo; little Pete Lister, trap-drummer in the camp -orchestra, was sounding a rattling roll on his drum, as he had been told -to do. - -Slowly, in the sight of all, the swastika-L on the front of Gallegher's -sweater was cut away. The thin blade slit the stitches, and the Chief's -hand tore away the green and white emblem of honor. Blackie watched -Gallegher's face, fascinated. He should be out there, too, taking his -medicine, suffering along with the Irish boy; he was just as guilty, and -more so, for at least Gallegher had not lied about his guilt. Blackie -wanted to cry out, to tell them all that he should be standing there, -too, with the Chief tearing away his own badge; but he stood rooted in -his place with a dry tongue and pale cheeks beneath his tan. - -Now it was too late. The Chief had put the emblem and the knife into his -pocket; the drumming had stopped; Gallegher shambled doggedly back to -his place in the line, beside Blackie and the other boys of Tent Four. -The chance to confess was past. Blackie rather envied Gallegher; he had -owned up and taken his punishment, and however hard the work on the -woodpile might be, at least he would have no ugly stain on his -conscience. - -"Right face! Forward--march!" The files trailed up toward the lodge -steps, and instantly a curious babel of voices broke out. - -"Gee, what did you do, Irish?" - -"Say, you must have done something pretty wild to get stripped like -that!" - -"Aw, shut up!" said Gallegher. "Key down, see? That's my business. -Maybe, if the guys that run this camp knew their stuff, I wouldn't be -the only one to get stripped." - -"What do you mean?" asked Slater. - -"I don't mean a thing, see? Not a thing." He looked darkly at Blackie, -who pretended he had not heard. The boys of Tent Four clattered up the -steps. There was a smell of breakfast in the air; everything was -forgotten at the thought of heaping dishes of cereal, hot biscuits, -steaming cocoa. But Blackie took his seat in worried silence, bowing his -head for grace. As he looked down, there showed before him the emblem -sewed on his jersey, the swastika-L he had won but had disgraced and now -wore dishonorably. He had a sudden, unreasoning desire to pluck it from -its place and throw it to the floor. It wavered before his eyes, the -burning badge of his shame. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - KANGAROO COURT - - -The day dragged on miserably for Blackie. - -He had a feeling that the eyes of his tent-mates were always furtively -upon him; when he would face them suddenly they would look away, but he -could feel their silent condemnation. Gallegher spent the morning hours -at work on the woodpile; Blackie saw him now and then bent over his job, -toiling alone. They had not spoken together since Wally had wakened them -both the night before; they did not speak at dinner or in the tent -during siesta hour afterwards. Blackie felt that the Irish boy was -avoiding the very sight of him. - -When Recall sounded after siesta and the boys of Tent Four tumbled out -for the afternoon's fun, Blackie did not leave his bunk. He found -himself alone with little Nightgown Guppy, who sat on the tent step -busily scooping out a section of birch wood for a bird-house. He worked -along in silence, but finally raised his head curiously and put a -question. - -"What's the matter, Blackie? Are you feeling sick or something?" - -"No, I'm not sick, you fool!" growled Blackie, turning over on his -pillow. - -"Well, then, why don't you get out and play baseball with the bunch? The -campers are playing the councilors to-day, and you ought to be in the -game. I never thought you were a guy that would spend all his time doing -bunk-duty." - -"Who cares what you think? Shut up and beat it. I'm sick of hearing you -babies bawling around all the time." - -Guppy worked on for a minute. "What are you sore about, Blackie?" he -asked after some time. "Is it because you're scared the Chief will know -you were smoking?" - -Blackie sat up with a jerk. "How do you know I was smoking?" - -"Oh, everybody knows." - -"If Gallegher said anything, I'll knock his block off!" - -"He didn't have to say anything. We all know you were in on it, and lied -out of it to the Chief." - -The bunk creaked as Blackie jumped up and advanced toward the smaller -boy with doubled fists. "You say I'm a liar? By Jimmy, I'll fix you for -this!" - -"Don't hit me!" said Guppy, dropping his tools and edging away. "All I -said was----" - -"You said enough!" Blackie scowled fiercely, seized the lad's arm -roughly, and gave it a wrenching twist until Guppy cried out with pain. -"That'll teach you to keep your mouth shut around me! Now, will you be -calling me a liar any more? Will you? Will you?" - -"Ow!" screamed Guppy. "I only said----You let me be, Blackie Thorne, or -you'll be sorry----" - -Blackie gave the arm another vicious turn. "If I hear you ever say again -that I was smoking with Gallegher, I'll kill you, do you hear?" - -"No, you won't," said a new voice. Blackie looked up. Facing him were -Ken Haviland, Gil Shelton, and a group of older boys who had approached -unnoticed. - -"Get him!" called Gil in a low tone. He and Sunfish jumped and caught -Blackie's arms. - -"Don't try to struggle, or it'll be worse for you," continued Ken. "All -right, Gup--he won't bother you any more." - -Blackie found himself pinioned on both sides, and a husky guard of four -veteran campers formed about him. They put him, still struggling, on a -locker in the center of the tent. Ken Haviland assumed a seat on top of -an upper bunk, where he could look down upon the prisoner. - -"The Kangaroo Court will now convene," he said solemnly. - -"What's the idea?" protested Blackie. "Gil, I thought you and Sunfish -and Soapy Mullins were friends of mine!" - -"Silence before the judge," warned Gil. "You are now in court. We'll let -your arms loose if you promise not to run away." - -"But why? If one of the leaders comes along now, you guys will sure look -stupid." - -"All of the leaders are down at the baseball field," Sunfish assured -him. "Anyway, it'll be worse for you if any of them hear tell of this. -Now, shut up! The court-martial is beginning." - -Ken Haviland, on his perch above, cleared his throat and began to speak. -"Gentlemen of the Kangaroo Court, you have been called together to try -the case of Blackie Thorne of Tent Four, Camp Lenape. You will see that -justice is done." - -The boys seated themselves about on boxes and bunks. There were eleven -of them, all from different tent-groups, and all boys who had spent at -least one season at Lenape. Ken looked sternly at Blackie. - -"Prisoner, you are charged with breaking the camp law against smoking -and deliberately lying about your act when questioned on your honor. Are -you guilty or not guilty?" - -"So Gallegher's been squealing, huh?" exclaimed Blackie. "Well, what of -it? What right have you to treat me like a convict?" - -"The right of the Kangaroo Court. You're a tenderfoot at camp, so I'll -explain to you what we're doing here. The Chief and the councilors have -nothing to do with it now. You were asked on your honor if you had -broken a camp rule, and we know that you told a lie. Instead of owning -up and taking your punishment like a man, you broke your word and -sneaked out of it. The Chief accepted your word; that's all he could do. -But the campers of Lenape have something to say about how a fellow like -you shall be treated. This court represents every boy in camp, and every -boy will stand by our decision. Are you guilty or not?" - -Blackie sneered. "And I suppose if I say I am, you and this gang of -yours will run and tattle-tale to the Chief!" - -"I said that the Chief has nothing to do with this. And you only hurt -yourself by acting ugly." - -"All right," said Blackie sullenly. "I did it. What are you going to do -about it?" - -"Gentlemen of the court, the prisoner has confessed his guilt. All in -favor of inflicting the usual penalty will rise." - -Every one of the eleven boys rose to his feet. Blackie looked from one -face to another of those who had been his friends, and read there only -reluctant determination. Ken Haviland tore a scrap of paper from a -notebook in his pocket, and scribbled on it with a pencil. Soapy Mullins -yanked Blackie to a standing position. - -"Prisoner," said Ken gravely, "the unanimous decision of the Kangaroo -Court is that you shall be given the Black Spot." He held out the scrap -of paper, and Blackie took it wonderingly. There was nothing on it save -a rude pencilled black disc in the center. "From this moment you are -branded as a disgrace to Camp Lenape, and not a single camper will speak -so much as a word to you. Court's adjourned!" - -The members of the court departed toward the baseball field, taking -Guppy with them, and the culprit was left alone with the marked piece of -paper still in his hand. He crumpled it with an angry gesture, and -tossed it to the ground. - -"Huh! They must think they've done something smart! The Black Spot! -Nobody will talk to me--we'll see about that! And what if they don't? A -lot I'd care if I never saw any of this bunch of Sunday-school kids -again!" - -He caught up a hat and marched down to the ball field, drawn there by a -desire to brazen it out and see if his sentence meant anything. The -boys' team was at bat, and Lefty Reardon, captain, was coaching off -third base. - -"Hey, Lefty!" Blackie hailed him. "How about giving me a game?" - -Lefty turned, looked him up and down quietly, and turned away again as -though he hadn't heard the question. Blackie flushed, and after standing -uneasily for a minute, tried to look unconcerned and strolled down to -the gathering around the batter. There was a low ripple of whispers at -his approach; boys nudged each other and turned to look, turned away -with half-hidden smiles of contempt. He did not even dare to speak to -one of them. For the moment he was tempted to rough-house one or two of -the younger boys just to see whether or not they could be made to speak; -but he remembered what had happened when he had twisted Guppy's arm, and -knew that any defiance of the unwritten code would be useless. - -"What's the score?" he asked of the world in general. - -Not a boy answered him. Someone at his elbow snickered; no one looked in -his face. He felt like a ghost, a branded being who had no right among -that bunch of happy campers; he was lonely in a crowd. - -The only reason he watched the game to its finish was because he refused -to give the boys the satisfaction of having driven him away. It was the -most wretched afternoon he had ever spent. He sat, drawn apart from the -rest, inwardly seething with fury and wondering how long he could stand -it. He forgot the exhilarating, breath-taking delights he had enjoyed at -Lenape; he could only remember the little dislikes he had acquired, the -humiliation of his ejection from the Stuck-Up initiation, the crude and -unceasing jokes that had been played upon him. He hated the Chief, the -leaders; with all the boys against him, staying at Lenape was -unbearable. He would leave the hateful place! It was the only thing to -do--run away from them all and never, never come back! - -He sat there moodily, pondering the plan in his mind. It was easy enough -to decide to run away--but where should he go? If he went back to the -city, he would have to face his mother with a tale of disgrace, and the -boys of the camp would soon discover that their punishment had driven -him home like a whipped dog. If he slipped away and went east, toward -Elmville and the railroad, Wally would soon discover that he was -missing; a hunt would start, he would be easily traced and found before -he could get far, and he would be brought back to camp again, baffled -and more of an object of reproach than ever. But if he could manage to -get too far away to be traced, and stay hidden somewhere for three or -four days, they would think him dead, and when he finally did return -they would be so glad they would forget all about his crime, would be -sorry they had caused him to run off alone. The open road, that was the -thing! He would be a hobo for a while, might even bum his way to some -city miles off, having an adventurous time on the road while the Lenape -kids did their smart little tricks and acted like Sunday-school babies -and thought they were having a good time! - -After some thought he decided not to leave immediately, but to wait -until supper-time. He was watched too closely now; every boy in camp -knew of his sentence and was covertly watching to see how he would take -it. But if he slipped away when the camp was assembled in the mess hall, -it was not likely that he would be seen. Wally might wonder what had -become of him, but would not take steps to find out until after the -meal; and by that time Blackie hoped to be several miles away in a -direction they would not expect him to take. He had seen the county map -which hung in the lodge, and knew that Newmiln Center, on Flatstone -Creek, was about ten miles as the crow flies northwest over the -mountains, in a rich farming region that was separated from camp by -miles of wilderness into which nobody ever penetrated. They would not -look for him on top of the ridges; they would never suspect that he -dared go there. Why, given a fair start and three hours of daylight, he -might even make Newmiln Center before dark closed in! - -"I'll do it!" Blackie muttered darkly to himself. "I'll show them I -won't knuckle under, no matter what they do!" - -He would take his blankets, he decided, and also his flash-lantern, ax, -and compass. The next problem was food. That would have to be -taken--"hooked"--out of the kitchen somehow. But unless there was one of -the kitchen crew at work, the place was always kept locked. He would -have to manage, somehow. - -He thought over his plans during the two hours before Retreat and the -evening flag-lowering ceremony. He did not appear for swim, but spent -the time making a neat roll of his blankets, which he hid along with his -flash-lamp, compass and ax in the bushes beside the road behind camp. He -knew that if his absence at the swimming dock was noted, the boys would -put it down to wanting to escape their silent contempt. - -He was in his place when Retreat Call trumpeted out over the lake; but -when the usual evening rush to tables began and the files clattered up -the steps, he slipped around to the back door of the kitchen. He found -himself in the pantry; shelves of canned goods lined the walls, under -which were bins of vegetables, and the mirrored doors of the huge -ice-box took up one side of the room. During the hush that preceded the -saying of grace in the mess hall, he could hear Ellick whispering -directions to Leggy and his other dusky assistants, who were busied -dishing up the meal. This is what Blackie had counted upon, having the -kitchen crew so busy at this time that they would not see him. Hastily -he slipped a few potatoes and a can of peas into his shirt, and ran to -the ice-box. A cool, humid breath of air came out to him as he opened -the door and peered inside; it was dark within, and he felt about hoping -to locate something he could take. His hand touched a plate of cheese, -and he drew forth a good-sized chunk. There was a rattle of dishes from -the kitchen. Ellick's voice came to his ears. - -"Leggy, you just hurry up now and bring in de butter from de ice-box!" - -Leggy's dragging footsteps sounded across the floor. With frenzied haste -Blackie grabbed at whatever happened to be under his hand. It proved to -be a slice of ham. Slamming the ice-box door, he clattered across to the -exit and ran out of the skinny kitchen-helper's sight. That had been a -close squeak! Pausing only to stuff the ham and cheese into the pockets -of his sweater, he darted around behind the wooden building that was -used for an ice-house and gained the rutted road that led toward the -mountains. Here he found his blanket roll and accouterments, slipped the -roll over his head and hooked the ax and lantern on his belt, and -trotted westward through the woods. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - THE HUT ON BLACK POND - - -Half a mile up the road, where it turned at right angles to climb the -mountainside, Blackie paused and took his first compass observation. His -course was northwest; but he remembered that if he looked at the compass -only now and then, he might go wide of his goal; the thing to do was to -take an observation, note a landmark ahead in line with the NW on the -compass, make straight for that place, and from there make a new -observation on another landmark. The little shifting needle showed him -that his first leg of the journey should take him diagonally up the -wooded mountain to a grayish, scarred slide of stones that showed ahead -in the dropping sun. He knew what that was, although he had never been -there. It was the terminal moraine Gil Shelton had pointed out to him -the day he had first landed in camp--the Devil's Potato Patch, the -campers called it--a heap of blotched, round boulders known as a -favorite resort for rattlesnakes. - -Blackie knew he must hurry if he was to reach the Flatstone valley -before dark. Pausing only to stow his plundered supply of food more -snugly in his pockets and to shift his blanket-roll to the other -shoulder, he set off across an expanse of marshy pasture land toward his -first goal. The deer-flies swarmed about his face and neck, stinging -pitilessly, and he increased his pace as much as he could to get away -from them. He had been prudent enough to wear his heavy hiking shoes, -but in several places he floundered into muddy pools and sank into dirty -water over his ankles. At last he reached the heavily-wooded base of the -mountain, and was forced to slow down and begin a determined climb -through the underbrush, up ledges of yellow, mossy rock, and across -slippery patches of shale where he had to go slowly and watch his -footing. Half-way up the mountainside, he gained the bottom of the -terminal moraine. Huge rocks, gray with lichens and scratched in rough, -random designs, stretched above him; he was forced to leap precariously -from rock to rock, always upward, several times catching himself just in -time to avoid a nasty headlong fall. Once, indeed, he slipped on a bit -of moss, and toppled sidewise into a cranny between two of the boulders. -His blanket-roll saved his body from being more than bruised; but in -falling one hand slipped under his body, and his heavy electric -flash-lamp banged down upon a rock, crushing one of his finger-tips -badly. The darting pain brought tears to his eyes, and he shook the -injured finger violently. Scrambling to his feet for fear he might have -fallen close to the hiding-place of some vicious, venomous -timber-rattler, he struggled on over the great rocks; and after what -seemed like hours of toilsome climbing, he at last gained the top of the -first ridge. - -There, on the mountain's top, the evening light was brighter, but in the -valley he had just left the shadows were long and cool. He turned and -faced toward the east. There was the lake, spreading like a polished -deep mirror that reflected the gold and blue evening sky, the serried -rows of trees along the margin. There were the ordered rows of white -tents, the top of the lodge roof with smoke wreathing lazily from the -stone chimney and with the bare flagpole standing up beyond. He could -see Camp Lenape as if it were a toy model spread out at his feet, almost -hidden in the gray-green foliage of the forest. A slight breeze brought -to him the faint clatter of trays from the mess hall, the confused hum -of campers' voices. They would be almost finished supper, now. Wally and -Haviland and Gallegher and the rest would be sitting about the -mess-table, wondering where he had disappeared. Well, let them worry! - -The thought of supper made him remember that he had had nothing to eat -since dinner-time. He pulled out the piece of cheese he had looted from -the ice-box, and began gnawing upon it. He could eat a little while he -rested. He turned a bit to the left. Beyond the pasture-land he had -crossed on his flight, he saw a line of trees that marked a lane. He -knew that lane; it was the one which led to the hermit's house, the road -he had followed the night he had heard murder done by the two tramps, -Reno and Lew. He could barely make out the weather-stained, mottled -shingles of the roof of the house, and shivered slightly. He would be -glad to go anywhere, anywhere away from the neighborhood of that grim -house of crime. - -Pulling out his compass, he marked a new line of march across the -undulating summit of the mountain. It pointed toward a blasted pine -taller than the rest, and he resolved to make for that. The going was -easier here on the mountain; the daylight was clearer, and the trees -were stunted and far apart, scrub pine and small oaks no more than -waist-high, for the most part. Blackie trotted along with assurance, -chewing upon a piece of raw ham torn from the slice in his pocket in -lieu of supper. He crossed a ravine and stumbled up the other side; this -took time, and now he could almost watch the sun dropping inch by inch -toward the line of trees in the west. There was not a sign that human -beings had ever passed that way; Blackie knew that no one ever -penetrated that desolate wilderness except deer-hunters and blueberry -pickers in the fall of the year. When he again gained level ground, he -found that somehow he had lost sight of the blasted pine he had picked -as a landmark. This did not trouble him much; he took out the compass -and again sighted toward the northwest. His finger was bothering him -more than anything else; the tip had swelled, and the nail was fast -turning an angry purple color. It felt double its size, and as the boy -swung along it throbbed and ached until Blackie was desperate with pain. - -He had covered about a mile and a half since landing on the plateau on -top of the ridge when he came to a section that was marked by long -wooded swales, rank with rotting vegetation, crossing his path. The sun -was dropping lower and lower; it shone like a flaming, bloody ball close -to the horizon, and its slanting rays blinded his eyes until the woods -about him seemed dim and unreal. He determined not to deviate from the -line he had laid for himself, for fear of getting off the track; and -when he came to the giant bole of a fallen tree, he tried to climb over -it instead of going yards around. The knobs and splinters of the rotting -trunk caught at his clothing and his equipment; while scrambling over -the top he slipped and fell prostrate across it, knocking the breath -from his lungs. A train of white ants crossed his arm, and when he -crawled slowly and clumsily to his feet, he felt their red-hot stings on -his wrist and up his sleeve. It seemed that the insects were everywhere -under his clothing, jabbing their poisoned darts of pain into his skin. -He jumped from the top of the trunk, landing on his face and scratching -it until it was crossed by bloody lines. The ground now became marshy, -and he was beset by a humming tribe of mosquitoes. Still he staggered -on, until brought to a stop by a spread of green, scummy water that -barred his path completely. - -Blackie considered. At the rate the sun was disappearing, and at the -rate he was taking to make a few miles across the mountains, he would -never reach Newmiln by dark. It would mean a night alone in this -unexplored region, a night of fighting mosquitoes and unceasing -watchfulness for rattlesnakes, night-prowling animals, and perhaps -worse. He remembered all the tales he had ever heard of lone travellers -caught at nightfall in strange and desolate solitudes, of attacks by -bears, wolves, ghosts of slain Indians. And suddenly, like a chilling -cloak, fear came to him and enveloped him. He felt the short hairs of -his neck rise and prickle; an icy finger trailed down his spine. He -would have to get on; he must cross the swamp somehow, anyhow! - -The water in the slimy pool was only a few inches deep; through the -green scum he could see the muddy, coated bottom. Feverishly he looked -about him, and seized a number of fallen branches that lay on the -ground, filled with the idea of making a rough bridge by casting them -across the few feet of swamp ahead. He worked furiously, and soon had a -network of branches thrown ahead, across which he hoped to run and so -gain the far side. There was no room behind him for a clear take-off; it -would have to be a standing jump. He stood for a second, getting up his -nerve; and with a leap he landed upon the center of the improvised -bridge. There was a snapping crackle of branches--the ones he had chosen -were ground branches, and rotten. They gave under his feet, breaking and -sinking into the mud; and he fell headlong on his face into the sticky -ooze. - -The swamp was a sucking enemy, trying to drag him under and hold him -close, until the foul waters should close over his head; it bubbled -under him, seeming to chuckle like a fiend. Frantically he fought his -way to an upright position; he was standing almost waist-deep in the -slime. Urged on by fear, he floundered forward, caught at an overhanging -bush, and pulled himself slowly to firm ground. There he lay for a -minute, gasping with exhaustion and terror after his exertion. The lower -half of his body was soaked with filthy mud; his face and blanket-roll -were draggled and stained from his fall. But he must not stop; he must -push on, onward to the northwest! - -For ten minutes he wandered through the marshy swales, avoiding the -frequent pools whenever he could. The forest was too thick for him to -spot any landmark ahead, and he gave up the idea of climbing a tree for -an observation, because it would take up too much of his precious time. -At last the ground sloped upward again; open spaces began to appear; the -footing was easier. He pushed on, deadly afraid to halt in that -darkening place of horror. - -Blackie never remembered afterwards very much what he did during the -remainder of that twilight march. He had a picture of himself--a hungry, -weary, frightened figure, dwarfed by the bigness and ominous vastness of -that solitude, caked with drying muck, scratched with twigs and thorns, -and ever followed by a cloud of stinging mosquitoes--fighting his way -through the desolation. He had the feeling of one in a nightmare, when -the dreamer is pursued by darkness and nameless horrors, and the very -ground seems to rise and clutch and hold him back. And he remembered -coming to the edge of the rhododendron thickets and feeling that he -could not go on. - -The tangled network of the rhododendrons fronted an implacable barrier -to his steps. There was no way to go around. It offered little -resistance as he first plunged into it, but as steadily as he advanced, -as surely did the branching horns of the shrub take hold on him. It was -like trying to walk through a gigantic wickerwork basket, woven of tough -and intertwined saplings. Again and again he plunged like a line-bucking -football guard, and inch by inch fought his way. In one place he tried -to stoop and crawl beneath the clutching branches, and was caught among -the roots as in a vise, until he felt that he could move neither forward -nor backward, but would have to stay imprisoned in that dusky brake -until he died of thirst and starvation. He gave a frantic heave, and was -free to fight his way further. The shadows were lengthening; the clock -of the sky warned him that his time was short. - -In the midst of his trouble he began talking desperately to himself; and -finally he broke into high-pitched, shouting song. Over and over again -he roared out to the brooding silence of the woods every hymn-tune he -had ever heard. Ridiculously, he thought this would protect him from the -unnamed evils of the place, and the singing certainly bolstered his -courage. - - "Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide, - The darkness deepens--Lord, with me abide----" - -He had lost his hat, he did not remember where. Plunge--plunge--forward -through the gripping coppice! - - "When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, - Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!" - -At last! He gave a wild cry and broke through the last entangling -thicket, and the rhododendrons crackled closed behind him. He was free -again! - -He did not pause to take any more compass courses, or to straighten his -clothing or pack, or to snatch a bite of food. He broke into a -staggering run. His flight took him for about half a mile, into the -bloodshot eye of the sun. He was dripping with perspiration, and heaving -great shaking sobs. A fallen pine tripped him and he rolled heavily down -a steep bank. When he picked himself up he found that he was standing on -a dimly-traced path through the woods--a bare, almost invisible trail, -but a path nevertheless, leading in what he thought was the direction he -should follow. - -A path meant that humans passed that way at some time or another, and -might lead to habitations and possible discovery. But the forest terrors -so clouded the boy's mind that he welcomed any companionship, no matter -what kind. It would at least give him company and allies against the -loneliness that beset him. It was growing dark; a blue jay somewhere -overhead was bickering to himself among the pine branches. Blackie -trotted down the path. - -It led him along a wooded ledge of naked rock, and down across a marshy -flat place where a brook widened and lost itself in a dense hedge of -rushes. He crossed on a series of flat stones, and ascended a little -hill. One look, and he gave a shout of surprise. - -There, spread before him beyond the margin of the reeds, was a long flat -sheet of water, a mountain tarn whose unruffled surface, like a plate of -polished steel, gave off the last dying beams of sunset. He had come too -far to the south; he was off the course he had laid for Newmiln Center. -This must be Black Pond, the long body of water he had seen marked on -the map in the camp lodge. - -The pond, hidden among the rocks and dark trees of the mountain, at no -time had a friendly look; now, at nightfall, it presented to the weary -boy a face full of sinister threat. He was several miles out of his way; -further progress that night was impossible. He would have to camp here -on Black Pond. - -He was just turning away to locate a camping place, when his eye was -caught by something which he had not noticed in his brief survey of the -pond and its surroundings. Through the trees to the right a thin wisp of -smoke was curling up in a languid spiral. - -Someone was camping beside the pond! Blackie did not hesitate; the fear -of spending the night alone offered no choice. He ran to the end of the -path. There, beside the still waters of Black Pond, was a small shack -rudely knocked together from rough pine slabs and chinked with moss. The -spreading wings and steel-edged talons of a hawk, shot at some time or -another, were nailed to the wall near the low door, in the usual -back-country fashion. The smoke of a fire came from a stone chimney at -one end. A small rowboat with a puddle in the bottom was drawn up on the -muddy shore. - -Blackie paused for a moment. He didn't like the looks of the place, but -beggars can't be choosers; it was now quite dark, and the smoke -indicated a cheery fire inside. Some hunter or fisherman, who used this -small hut for his camp, must be inside. Blackie tiptoed to the door and -knocked hesitantly. - -From beyond the rough barrier came a startled grunt, the sound of a body -moving swiftly across the hut. Blackie knocked again, growing more and -more concerned as the silence continued. - -With a sudden jerk the door was flung open, and a man's figure appeared -outlined in the firelight, with one arm menacingly upraised, wielding -what seemed to be a short iron bar. Blackie Thorne stared, and gave a -shrill scream of fright. - -He was looking in the face of the man called Reno, one of the two tramps -he had overheard on the night of the snipe hunt planning to rob old -Rattlesnake Joe of his imaginary treasure! He could plainly see the -seamed face, the gray unshaven jowls, and the green eye-patch of that -sinister character. - -The tramp was as surprised as the boy. "In the devil's name, it's a -kid!" he bellowed. "A kid, Lew! Nab 'im, quick!" He made a dive for -Blackie, but the boy, pulled by terror, had already taken to his legs -back up the path--away, away from that evil face in the hut. He stumbled -frantically through the dark--the further away from Black Pond, the -better! Behind him he could hear the baffled howling of Reno. He would -escape yet---- - -He stumbled, felt a pair of gripping arms about him, holding him tight -so that he could not struggle. A hoarse voice called, "Here he is, Reno! -Got the bloody little rat!" - -"Good!" came the response. "Bring 'im here to the light. If he's a spy, -I'll pull out his little throat, blast 'im!" - -Helpless and too weary to fight any more, Blackie felt himself being -picked up roughly and carried toward the hut on Black Pond that was the -hiding-place of the two murderous vagabonds who had done to death the -harmless old hermit of the Lenape hills. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - ROBBERY BY NIGHT - - -"Bring 'im over here to the fire, Lew," directed Reno, "and we'll just -have a look at his ugly mug." - -The younger tramp carried Blackie to the hearth and threw him down on -his back, still gripping him about the body with both hands. Reno, the -man with the patch over his eye, stood up against the fireplace the bar -he had been using as a weapon. Blackie recognized that bar at once. It -was the object the hermit had shown them when the campers visited -him--his prized "thunderbolt" that had been the direct cause of his -death. Dazed, he watched Reno stir up the fire and draw forth a blazing -brand which he held up for a torch, close to the boy's features. - -"Glory be, it's just a young kid!" snorted Lew. "From the way he was -fightin' me, I thought it was a wildcat at least! What's he doin' here?" - -Reno spat, wiped his mouth, and swore terribly with his face close to -Blackie's. "You, now! Who sent you here?" - -"N-N-Nobody," the boy managed to stammer. - -"No tricks, now!" warned the loathsome tramp. "If you're alone, what are -you doin' here?" - -Blackie was terribly frightened, but kept his head. These men were -dangerous; he was alone with them, miles from any help. They could not -guess that of all the people in the world, he alone had witnessed the -death of the hermit at their hands. But if he admitted that he came from -Camp Lenape, they would wonder why he was away from camp by himself, and -would suspect that there were others near. He must depend upon his wits, -now; and with the shadow of the great lie at camp hanging over him, he -felt that one lie more or less would not matter now. - -"I'm on the road, Mister Reno," he said. "I didn't know you were -here--I'm bumming around by myself, honest!" - -The tramp laughed nastily. "On the road, huh? Well, we need a kid about -your size. Stick with us, see, and you'll be rich some day. Frisk 'im, -Lew." - -The weak-chinned man called Lew was rapidly going through Blackie's -pockets and unstrapping his belt. "We're in luck!" he said. "Grub and a -light and blankets! An ax, too; the kid can use it to chop more wood for -our fire. Look, Reno--we'll have a regular banquet--peas and ham and -spuds!" - -"About time," yawned Reno, moving back to the fire. "Get a move on and -dish up supper. Blast my eyes if I ain't sick to death of livin' on fish -and berries." - -Lew permitted Blackie to get up. "Well, what did ya expect to live on -while we was waitin' for the Big Job to blow over----" he began, but -Reno stopped him with a hasty gesture. - -"Shut up! If the sheriff was to hear ya say that----" he threatened. Lew -turned away, muttering, and with Blackie's hand-ax chopped open the can -of peas and began cooking the meal at the fire. - -Blackie, unharmed for the present but stripped of his supply of food and -all his equipment, was allowed to sit in a corner and wonder how he -could get out of his plight. Escape for the present was impossible; he -was too closely guarded to get out of the hut, and even if he did so, he -would be lost in the dark wilderness where every horror in the world -might lurk. - -The supper cooked, the two tramps set to in surly silence and gobbled up -every scrap of food Blackie had brought. He did not dare ask for a -share, but hungrily watched them devour the meal to the last morsel. -Reno finished first, wiped his greasy mouth on the back of his sleeve, -yawned loudly, took one of Blackie's blankets and an old quilt he picked -up somewhere, and laid out his bed on the floor of the hut. His back was -against the low door, the only means of exit from the place, and before -turning in, he took the ax and placed it under his ragged coat, which he -had doubled to serve as a pillow. Lew, leaving the dirty dishes on the -rough table, took the remaining blanket and sprawled out on the floor -near the fire. - -Blackie ventured a question. "Excuse me, Mister," he said, "but where -can I sleep?" - -Reno rolled over and glowered. "A lot I'd care if ya never slept, ya -dirty whelp! Shut yer face!" - -"But--you have all the blankets, and----" - -Lew reached out a booted foot and kicked the boy viciously. "I'll kill -ya if ya don't stow yer gab!" he growled. "Kids like you don't need -covers. If I hear any more out of ya, I'll jam my foot in yer mush!" - -Blackie spent that unforgettable night squatting on the hearth beside -the fireplace. Now and then he would drift off into a restless sleep, -troubled by dreadful dreams and startled awakenings. His finger-tip -ached continually, and the nail had turned so black that he knew he -would lose it. He crouched miserably by the dead fire, shivering from -the damp chill that rose from the pond and listening to the heavy -breathing of the two sleepers who barred his way to escape. His teeth -chattered as much from fear as from the cold, for he could not forget -that he was in the terrible company of a pair of desperate murderers who -would twist his throat if they guessed he knew anything about their -crime. Once he dreamed that he was back in Camp Lenape, lying stretched -out in his bunk at Tattoo, with the stars bright over the pines, the -friendly feel of happy boys about him, and Wally sitting beside the -tent-pole reading vespers out of his Bible. He woke with a start, and -saw the two ugly figures sprawled on the floor in the dim firelight. -Camp was behind him; he had left all that, and was "on the road." His -cheeks were wet; he had been crying softly to himself in his sleep. - -Gray dawn came at last. The two hoboes roused themselves, and permitted -Blackie to wash his face and hands at the edge of the pond, making fun -of him for a delicate greenhorn as they watched him. Shortly after, Reno -disappeared into the woods and after about an hour, returned with a hat -full of huckleberries, upon which he and Lew breakfasted, neither -offering any to Blackie nor allowing him to find any for himself. He was -not out of the sight of one of them during that whole dragging day. Save -for a muttered curse or a blow on the head, they treated him as though -he did not exist. The men played with a grimy deck of cards most of the -morning, making large wagers against each other and swearing -blasphemously when they lost, although the boy could not see that either -of them had a penny to win or lose. Around noon, as near as Blackie -could judge, Lew took a fishing line and rowed out upon the pond in the -leaky old boat. He was gone for several hours. Reno spent the time -chewing tobacco and playing a game of solitaire, or else snoring with -his back against the door. - -Lew returned from his fishing expedition empty-handed and in an ugly -humor, and conferred with the older tramp in muttered whispers. Blackie -was driven to the other end of the small hut while they spoke, but -listened as hard as he could and managed to catch a word now and then. -Once he heard distinctly the phrase, "Flatstone Creek," and again, "the -kid can do it." At the end of the talk, Reno rose angrily and shouted, -"I'm sick of yer snivelling like a yellow cur! The whole thing has all -blown over by now--anyways, they haven't anything on us to prove we done -it!" He began stamping out the fire, rolled the blankets in an ungainly -bundle, and stuck the ax in his belt. Lew also made up his blankets, to -which he attached the flash-lamp. - -"Here, you kid!" he said, "grab these bundles and tote 'em for us. We're -clearin' out of here." - -This completed the preparations for departure. Leaving the hut in a -litter, with the door hanging open, the two tramps led the way north -around the edge of the pond, followed by Blackie, who stumbled along -blindly under the burden of the blankets and quilt and the lantern. Reno -led at a lazy gait, turning west after the end of Black Pond was rounded -and strolling through the forested ridge for about three hours. At each -step Blackie grew more weary; he was, after more than twenty-four hours -of fasting, almost ready to keel over with starvation. He was only -allowed to drop his bundles and rest a few minutes now and then, when -the men felt like stopping. He had no idea where the hoboes were going -or what they intended to do. - -At sundown, Reno called a halt. Blackie wondered if the mountain would -ever end. He threw down the blankets and fell upon them wearily; but to -his surprise the two tramps lay on their faces and peered out westward -through a clump of bushes. His curiosity overcoming his fatigue, Blackie -crawled over to their side, dodged a kick from Lew, and looked in the -direction Reno was pointing with outstretched arm. - -They were on the edge of a steep bluff fronting on a pretty little green -valley in the center of which ran the silver ribbon of a brook. Beyond -rose, purple-clad, a low range of hills that Blackie judged might fringe -the Delaware. He was sure the creek below must be the Flatstone--they -had been heading into the sunset for the past hour. To the boy, enslaved -by the loathsome vagrants and unable to escape from their abuse and -dangerous company, the peaceful valley looked like a promised land. -Green, cool pastures spread on each side of the brook, where cattle -grazed, fat little cows looking small enough, viewed from the grim -cliff, to have come out of a toy Noah's ark. - -Almost under them, at the base of the steep mountainside, a white -farmhouse lay near an orchard of gnarled apple trees fronting on a -yellow dirt road running north and south. Across the road was a rambling -red barn, a farmyard full of chickens, and the remains of an old -lime-kiln. - -"That's the place I saw yesterday," said Reno. "Nobody there at night -but the old guy and his wife--the hired man lives up at the Center. I -found out that much." - -"I'm starved," muttered Lew. "How long have we got to wait?" - -"Aw, these hicks go to bed early. If we wait a couple hours, they'll be -so much asleep you couldn't wake 'em up with a cannon. We'll take -anything they got, and then beat it over to Pennsylvania for a while. -Lots of good places across the river where we can lay low--this district -will be gettin' too hot to hold us pretty soon." - -Nothing further was said for some time. Smoke curled from the chimney of -the farmhouse; evidently the people inside were eating dinner. A hearty -country meal it would be, Blackie thought, and his mouth watered as he -visioned smoking joints of meat, thick bread and jam, rich creamy milk, -golden-crusted slabs of pie, corn and squash and pickles and beets, -chocolate cake---- He tried to pass the time thinking of all the dishes -in the world that he liked; but soon had to stop because of the clawing -pangs of hunger that gripped him. - -Reno and Lew lay watching the house like wolves awaiting the coming of -night before attacking a defenseless sheepfold. Once a horse-drawn buggy -with one occupant passed along the road, driving away from the Center -that showed dimly as a cluster of white houses and a church tower to the -north, where a bridge spanned the stream. The sun disappeared; a few -lights blinked forth in the house below, giving it a cheerful, friendly -look amidst the mysterious dark of the valley. - -Blackie, left to himself, thought of nothing but the chances of escape -from the ugly pair he had been thrown in with by the fortunes of the -road. If he could squirm away unnoticed, and make a sudden dash down the -side of the cliff, he might get clear and find his way to one of the -houses in the valley. He was more than willing to risk a broken ankle in -the dark to win free of the tramps. He rolled over as quietly as he -could, and began to worm his way across the ground; but he made the -mistake of putting his weight upon a branch which snapped and gave way -beneath him, and Reno jumped up and caught him by the collar with a -snarl. - -"No tricks like that, my hearty!" he muttered. "Try that again, and -you'll be black and blue for a month! I'll skin ya, so I will!" - -Blackie bowed his head under a rain of blows that stunned him and made -his ears ring. He lay quietly after that, and did not move until, after -about an hour, the two men rose to their feet with an air of -determination. By this time the lights in the farmhouse below had -disappeared, one by one; evidently the inhabitants were all fast asleep. -Reno led the way to the left, picking his path by the aid of Blackie's -flash-lantern shielded under his coat; Blackie followed, still stumbling -beneath the weight of the blankets; while Lew brought up the rear, -cursing softly when he stumbled on the treacherous ground. They picked -their way down the steep slope of the mountainside, and after half an -hour of slow going, came out on the dirt road near the barn. Here Reno -snapped off the light, and without even a moon to guide them the tramps, -like the thieves and night marauders they were, sneaked cautiously -through the orchard until they reached the back of the farmhouse, and -stopped a few yards from the low cellar-door. - -Here they paused for a brief consultation, and then Reno crept toward -the house, while Lew watched him, meanwhile holding Blackie's arm in a -vise-like grip. No sooner had he vanished in the direction of the house -than the night was full of the rousing bark of a dog. - -"Curse the luck----" began Lew; but on the instant the bark died away in -a blood-curdling, stricken howl; and afterwards there was silence again. -He listened in a strained attitude, still clutching Blackie, who could -hear his heart beat so loudly that it seemed as if the inhabitants of -the house must hear those throbbing thumps between his ribs and waken in -alarm. Finally Reno came back to them, moving like a shadow in the -starlight. - -"It's all clear!" Blackie heard him whisper hoarsely. "The watch-dog -heard me and almost give the show away, but I cut his throat right -quick. I tried all the doors and windows, and everything is tight as a -drum--but there's a little window in the kitchen that the kid might be -able to get through." - -"Send him along," said Lew. "Does he know what to do?" - -"He'd better know!" whispered Reno sharply. "Listen, kid--ya got to help -us. I'm goin' to boost ya through a window into the kitchen, and you -pass out all the grub you can find. While I was around lookin' at the -windows, I found a gunny-sack they use for a doormat, and we can stuff -it full of grub and take it with us." - -"But--but that's stealing!" exclaimed Blackie. - -Reno grasped his throat swiftly, and choked the words in the boy's -throat. "Shut yer trap--do ya want the whole house down on us? And what -if it is stealin'? Ya ain't above that, are ya, ya little ladylike -brat?" - -"But what if they catch me in there?" moaned Blackie through his teeth. - -"Ya better not let them catch ya, that's all. But let me tell ya, it'd -be a sight better to have the old farmer catch ya and put a shotgun full -of buckshot into ya than to come back to me without a pile of grub!" -There was an edged threat in his voice, and Blackie did not dare say -another word. If only he had stayed at camp and obeyed the rules, he -would not now have to choose between robbing a house and being beaten -within an inch of his life by a murderous tramp! - -He allowed Reno to push him around to a small, high window at the rear -of the house. "There it is, kid," whispered the man in his ear, "and if -ya see anything else worth takin', pass it out to me!" He lifted the boy -to the ledge, and Blackie fumbled with the catch. The window opened -outwards with a slight creaking noise, leaving an aperture about half a -yard square. Making no further protest, which he knew would be useless, -Blackie squirmed through after some trouble, and lowered himself slowly -into the silent kitchen of the sleeping house. He had a new plan in his -head now, and permitting himself to be pushed inside the farmhouse was a -necessary part of it. It was his duty to rouse the owner of the farm and -warn him of the danger lurking without. If there was a telephone in the -place, perhaps help could be speedily summoned in time to capture the -murderers outside; if not, at least the house could be barricaded and -the tramps driven off. The farmer would give Blackie shelter for the -night, he hoped, and anyway he would be free of the domination and -driving of the two vagrants; but unless the farmer was awakened with -care and quickly comprehended what Blackie would tell him, he might -misunderstand and take the boy for a robber before he could explain. -Nevertheless, Blackie felt that he must carry out his plan no matter at -what danger to himself. - -He found himself in a sort of pantry leading off from the spacious farm -kitchen. A low red fire still glowed in the stove, and he could make out -the walls lined with jars and cans and boxes and cooking utensils of all -kinds. A low hiss from the window warned him that Reno was still on the -lookout. He would have to work rapidly. - -Looking about him hastily in the dull light, he found a door that seemed -to lead to the other parts of the house. Tiptoeing across the uncarpeted -floor one careful step at a time, he reached the door and entered a long -hallway. This he followed for a yard or two, feeling his way along the -wall, until his hand touched a railing that seemed to be part of the -front stairs. He would have to climb those stairs to reach the bedrooms. -He advanced one foot cautiously, and was just climbing the first step, -when a loose board in the floor creaked with a sickening noise. It -sounded to the terrified boy like the crack of Doom. - -Instantly his feet were knocked out from under him as a heavy body -leaped at him like a football tackle, and he fell with a toppling crash -to the floor. Someone was upon him, holding him in a resistless clutch! -The wind was knocked from his lungs, and he gagged and fought for -breath. The stabbing glare of a flashlight hit his eyes. - -Then the strangest event of all that strange night happened. His unknown -assailant gave a little whistle of surprise, and broke forth into -speech. Only one word, but that word the boy's name. - -"Blackie!" - -The flashlight twisted around; the stranger was showing it upon his own -face. Blackie gasped, and almost shrieked with relief. The person who -had captured him in that dark, lonely farmhouse was his own tent leader, -Wally Rawn! - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - THE SPRING-HOUSE - - -"Wally! What are you doing here?" - -Wally Rawn relaxed his iron grip and helped Blackie to his feet. In the -glow of the flashlight the boy could see that Wally was fully-dressed in -corduroy trousers, blue flannel shirt, and high woodsman's boots with -laces dangling. The councilor must have thrown his clothes on in a -hurry. - -"I might ask the same of you, Blackie," he said with a slight grin. -"Have you become a burglar all of a sudden?" - -The words recalled Blackie to his mission in the farmhouse. "Shh! Not so -loud--they're still outside!" - -"Who's outside?" - -"The two tramps! They're the ones that killed poor old Rattlesnake Joe, -and they made me climb in the window to steal some food for them. The -older one stabbed the dog outside so he wouldn't wake the house, -and----" - -Wally pursed his lips in a low whistle. "So that's who shut up the dog -so suddenly! The barking woke me up, and I thought I'd prowl around here -and see what was happening. You say these men are--murderers?" - -"Yes--the sheriff is after them! Don't let them catch me again, Wally! -They kicked and beat me all the time, and wouldn't let me have anything -to eat, and I'm scared of them!" - -"Don't worry--they can't get in here. But if the sheriff wants these -men, we might have a try at capturing them. You say they're waiting for -you outside? Well, you might be able to get them to bite on the hook. -Are you game to take a chance on locking them up where they belong?" - -Blackie's face fell. "Why, sure, I'll try if you help me. But how can I -catch them? They'd kill me in a minute if they thought I was giving them -away." - -Wally considered. "I've got it!" he exclaimed softly. "Listen--out there -in the orchard there's a spring-house where the farmer's wife keeps -butter and meat and stuff to cool. I remember it has a strong lock on -the door. If you could get them in there, and snap the bolt on them, we -could hold them there until Kingdom Come. It'll be touch-and-go with you -if you can't get them inside, but a pair like that should be under lock -and key as soon as possible. Will you try?" - -Blackie nodded. "If you think that's the best way----" - -"Good. I'll wake up the old man, and we'll be on the lookout at an -upstairs window to protect you in case the scheme doesn't work. We can't -show ourselves or they'll get suspicious and we'll never have the chance -again. Now, skip back to the kitchen--they'll be wondering where you -went. Good luck!" - -Wally began to tiptoe silently up the stairs, and Blackie hastened back -down the hallway to the kitchen. On his way to the pantry window he -grabbed two or three jars of preserved vegetables and a loaf of bread. -He found Reno at the window, almost crazy at the delay. - -"What took ya so long, ya little fool?" he raged under his breath. "I -thought I heard noises inside, and thought ya were bagged for sure." - -Blackie handed out the jars. "I was just looking around for grub, Mister -Reno," he said. "There isn't very much here--at least I can't find it in -the dark. This is all I saw." - -Reno grew ferocious with anger. "Well, that's better than nothin'--but -after all our trouble, all ya could get was a mouthful! I'll fix you for -this later! Come on, climb out--don't stand here jabberin' all night!" - -He helped the boy out through the narrow window, and together they crept -back to where Lew was standing guard. - -"Any trouble?" he asked. - -"Aw, the brat couldn't find enough to make a lunch for a flea." Reno -held out the jars and the bread. "We'll have to try this game somewheres -else." - -Disgruntled, he led the way back through the orchard toward the road. -Blackie could barely make out the white-washed side of the spring-house -to their left. He plucked Reno's ragged sleeve. - -"Say, I bet that place is full of grub! Let's have a look!" - -Reno turned with a sneer. "Go and see." - -Blackie knew that if he argued, it might breed suspicion. He waded -through the tall grass to the low door and felt its rough face with his -hand. Sure enough; the outside bore a strong bolt. As he opened the -door, a draft of chill, damp air came forth, mingled with the smell of -fresh cream and cheese. He stumbled in. - -It was the usual type of country spring-house. In the center bubbled up -a rill of icy water that was contained in a deep stone basin, filled -with tall cans of milk. The two men, attracted by Blackie's easy -entrance into the place, followed him quickly, and found him busily -gobbling a generous chunk of apple pie, washing it down with milk from a -pitcher at his elbow. Hungry as he was, however, Blackie had not lost -sight of the deed he had to do; it was part of his plan to entice the -men inside. Lew rose to the bait, and began seizing foodstuffs with both -hands; but Reno cautiously stood square in the doorway, covering the -retreat. His mouth full, Blackie pushed past him, stuffing cookies into -his pockets. - -"Pass the stuff out, Lew," Reno was saying "I'll stick it all in our bag -here." - -Blackie had meanwhile gained the outside, and stood facing the back of -the man in the doorway. "Why don't you go in too, Mister Reno?" he -asked. "You might miss something if you don't." - -Something in his tone made the man whirl about suspiciously. "What do -you mean, you little roach? If you think you can----" - -Blackie saw his only chance, and took it. With a sturdy rush, he butted -against Reno's legs. The tramp, caught off balance, grabbed at the -doorway to right himself, and Blackie, with all the force of his body -behind it, plunged his doubled fist into the man's stomach. It was a -lucky blow that landed right on the solar plexus, and for a moment Reno -was paralyzed. He gave a pained grunt and keeled backwards into Lew, who -fell over a tall milk-can and tumbled sidewise into the pool of icy -water. Before either of them could flounder to their feet, Blackie had -slammed the strong door and shot the bolt upon his prisoners. - -He sat down in the trampled, dewy grass, overcome with the reaction that -sets in after a trying period of strain and excitement. And suddenly, -without knowing why, he began to laugh, laugh until his sides hurt, -unable to stop. - -Wally Rawn came to him on the run from the house, carrying a -long-barreled shotgun in his hands. He tested the soundness of the lock -on the spring-house door, and then clapped Blackie on the shoulder. - -"Neat work, son! You've got them shut up in there like a couple of -sardines in a can. Say, what's the matter with your funny bone?" - -"He--he looked so crazy!" gurgled the boy. "I knocked the wind out of -Reno, and he fell over and pushed Lew into the water!" - -From within the spring-house came an angry racket. Reno must have -scrambled to his feet again and was shouting at the door; both men were -cursing a blue streak, and Reno was making the most terrifying threats -as to what he should do if Blackie did not release the bolt on the -instant. - -Wally patted Blackie's arm soothingly. "Don't you worry your head about -that." He stepped to the door and called commandingly, "Listen, you -inside there! I've got a gun here, and if you make one more sound I'll -wing you both! You're here to stay, and don't forget it!" - -The serious depth of his voice must have impressed them, for they -maintained a puzzled silence while Wally strolled back to Blackie with a -cheerful smile. - -"Guess that'll stop their howling for a while. Now, as I was telling -you, I woke up the old farmer--he was snoring away as peaceful as a -sheep--and now he's telephoning to Sheriff Manders at the Center. The -sheriff will be along in his car as soon as he can make it, and until -then I guess these birds will stay in their cage. They'd better!" he -finished grimly. "Now tell me how you happened to be housebreaking here -in the dead of night in such bad company." - -Growing more calm, Blackie began his tale, relating how on the night of -the snipe hunt he had overheard the two hoboes planning to rob the old -hermit, and how he had followed them and heard the scuffle in the house -and the scream which had driven him to fly in horror. - -"You should have told me or the Chief about that," was Wally's only -comment. "It would have saved a lot of trouble." - -"I was too scared," confessed Blackie, "and besides it all seemed like a -dream that couldn't be true." - -He told briefly how he had fallen in with the tramps again at Black -Pond, and how they had later forced him to enter the house to plunder -it. When he had finished, Wally said nothing for a while, but shook his -head once or twice in somber amusement. - -"Well," he said finally, "guess after all these adventures you won't -mind going back to old Lenape for a rest. I've come to take you back to -Tent Four." - -"But--how did you know where I was? Why are you here?" - -"I didn't know where you were, but I had a pretty good guess. You -slipped away from camp, and I figured it was up to me to catch you -again. The Chief sent Mr. Lane in the car toward Elmville to look out -for you along the road to the railway, and there were quite a number of -fellows scouting around for your tracks on the campus. I wasted some -time after supper down at the south end of the lake, thinking you might -have headed that way toward home, and it wasn't until this morning that -I got the brilliant idea that you would head right into the big timber -for a while. I found your trail up on the ridge, and believe me, you hit -some pretty rough going in spots! Right in the middle of a swamp I found -a hat with your name on it, stuck in some bushes; and then I knew my -guess was right. But after clawing my way through a regular jungle of -rhododendrons I lost your track, and naturally thinking you would make -for Newmiln, I raced over to the Center. I had no idea you would swing -down into Black Pond." - -"What did you do then? Gee, you must have been a wizard to follow me -that far!" - -"I spent the rest of the day sweeping the Flatstone valley for traces of -you; I knew that if you had passed this way somebody must have seen you. -When I got no news, I came back over this side and the old farmer--his -name's Jacob Woods, and he's a friend of mine; I brought a group of -bikers over here last year--he offered to let me stay here to-night and -to go back into the mountain with me in the morning to look for you. He -was telling me tales of lost hunters and mysterious accidents back in -these hills until I almost went out to look for you with a lantern. It -was just a crazy coincidence that your hobo friends decided to pick this -house for their midnight robbery--but I'm glad I was the one that hopped -on you in the dark; somebody else might have been rough." - -Blackie had been drinking in every word. "Say, Wally," he said, "those -tramps are awful quiet. I wonder if they're up to anything?" - -"We'll see." Wally, with his gun held at ready, circled about the little -stone building warily, and was just in time to see Lew, the weak-chinned -younger tramp, sticking his head through an aperture he had made by -removing a stone where the overflow from the spring found its way out. -"Get back there, you!" shouted Wally. He pretended to aim a kick, and -the startled hobo, who had counted on tearing away the stones and -escaping by the back way, withdrew his head so speedily that he bumped -it. Wally closed the opening with several rocks. - -The sound of an auto horn from the road made Blackie jump. "That must be -the sheriff!" cried Wally. "Hi! Over this way, Mr. Manders! Over here in -the orchard!" - -Three men came tramping across through the grass, two of them carrying -rifles. The taller of them Blackie recognized as the man who had been -conferring with the Chief on that fateful rainy Tuesday when he had -fought with Chink and smoked with Gallegher. It was Sheriff Manders, and -he pulled out two pairs of handcuffs while Wally was explaining things -to him. Another man he introduced as his deputy, a rugged farmer with -red chin-whiskers showing in the light of the lantern he carried. The -third, garbed in a pair of overalls hastily donned over his -night-clothing, proved to be Mr. Woods, owner of the farm, who since -telephoning had been watching at the roadside to direct the officers of -the law as soon as they arrived. - -The sheriff heard Wally to the end, and then turned to Blackie. "You're -a real smart boy, if what Mr. Rawn says is true. I'll be over to your -camp-ground later and get your affidavit on all you've told him; and -likely you'll be wanted at the trial." - -He stamped over to the door and knocked upon it loudly. "In the name of -the law, I call upon you to submit to arrest!" - -When the door was flung open, two cowed and shaken vagabonds shambled -out to face the weapons of Wally and the officers. Their short -imprisonment had broken what spirit of bravado they possessed, and under -the watchful eyes of the law they appeared as a brace of craven and -revolting blackguards caught in the midst of crime. They submitted to -being handcuffed, and were bundled off toward the car in short order. - -"I'll go with you and see these fellows safe in jail," volunteered -Wally. "No--you won't be needed, Blackie; you've done more than your -share this night. You just trot off to bed with Mr. Woods here, and -forget all about everything." - -He disappeared after the two prisoners and their guards, leaving Blackie -with the aged farmer. The latter led Blackie back to the house, where -his wife was fussing about the kitchen in a faded red wrapper, stirring -up the fire and raising a most tantalizing smell of cooking. Mr. Woods, -with rare forbearance, did not bother Blackie with questions, but every -now and then he caught the farmer looking at him with a puzzled frown, -shaking his head and muttering to himself, "Wal, who would have thought -it?" His wife mothered Blackie, making him wash his face and hands and -seating him at the table, where she piled hot food before him and -watched him gorge himself on sausage and fried potatoes, pressing him to -eat more pie and cookies until he felt as though his eyes must be -bulging with repletion. When he could eat no more, she packed him off -upstairs to bed, and left him with a gentle good-night. He undressed, -almost dozing off once or twice in the process, climbed into a high -four-poster bed, and lay snugly stretched out under a -brilliantly-colored old-fashioned crazy quilt. He fell asleep as soon as -his head touched the pillow. - -A short time later Wally returned and woke him to say that he had seen -the tramps safely under lock and key in the jail at Newmiln Center, and -that he need not worry any more. Blackie hardly heard the words before -he was asleep again. Wally blew out the lamp and crawled in beside the -sleeping boy, and once more all was peaceful in the farmhouse at the -foot of the mountain. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - THE LAST RACE - - -Blackie and Wally were up at the first crack of dawn; it was to prove an -active day for them, and they had no mind to get a late start. After a -hearty breakfast provided by Mrs. Woods, they took the road south on -foot. The grateful farmer offered to harness his team and drive them -back to camp, but Wally knew that he was needed to tend his stock, and -courteously refused. - -"We'll take the road down the valley and over the mountains," explained -Wally as the two hiked side by side down the yellow road. "It's a bit -longer than straight over the ridge, but we'll avoid a lot of tough -going, and save time in the long run." - -Blackie was not sorry to be tramping along in Wally's company on that -bright summer morning. His clothing had been neatly brushed and cleaned -by the farmer's motherly wife, and his rescued blankets were strapped -over one shoulder. The sky was a lustrous, enamelled blue; the fields -and thickets sparkled with dewdrops; and a cheerful chorus of birds -chirruped a marching song for them. The way led down the valley of the -Flatstone, running on a wooded height above the wandering creek. -Occasionally they passed orchards and farmhouses, lazy in the sun; once -they climbed a spur of the hills and looked down upon a great red mill, -with a plashing race of water leaping down through the dripping teeth of -a clacking wooden wheel. Several times they were passed by farmers -driving wagons or cars, but always they were heading the opposite way, -toward the Center; and the two hikers were not fortunate enough to get a -lift. As they went they chatted gaily, and all the grim hours of -Blackie's flight and bondage seemed like the half-remembered fragments -of a nightmare. - -By ten o'clock they had reached the crossroads, beside a steepled little -schoolhouse with a yard overgrown with weeds, and halted several minutes -before turning eastward. - -"This route is longer than I thought," observed Wally. "We're only about -half-way back to Lenape now, and we still have the hardest part of the -journey ahead. I thought we might be back in camp by this time. You see, -to-day we hold the big regatta and water-sports. Every fellow in Camp -Shawnee will have come down from Iron Lake to compete with our swimmers -and divers, and I should be on hand to take the entries and run the -meet." - -"It's my fault you're not there now," said Blackie. "If I hadn't run -away, everything would have been all right." - -"If you hadn't run away, two desperate characters wouldn't be in jail -to-day, facing trial for murder," pointed out the leader. "That's the -way of the world--there's no situation so bad that courage and brainwork -can't mend it, and many a bad start has ended with a whirlwind finish." - -"Then if I hadn't told a lie in camp, I wouldn't have been kangarooed -and would never have left, and would never have found Lew and Reno up in -the mountains. But all the same, I'm done with lying--forever." - -"That's a peach of a resolution to make," agreed Wally. "Lying is either -cowardly or silly, and a Lenape camper doesn't want to be either. And -now let's be off; we won't get back to camp just by talking about it." - -He leaped to his feet and they trudged off up the mountain road at a -smart pace. Blackie's short legs had some difficulty in matching the -mile-devouring stride of the councilor, but he did not complain, -although it had grown exceedingly hot and dusty, and it seemed as if the -succession of ridges across which they passed would never end. Each time -they would surmount a summit, Blackie told himself that it must be the -last; and each time he would find another belt of road stretching on -ahead and another ridge to cross. A little after noon they sighted a -fine-looking farm in the center of the hills, and on the shady porch sat -a red-cheeked man with drooping mustaches. He was clinking out a lively -tune on a banjo, but dropped the instrument when he saw them approach, -and called out a cheery hail. - -"Hi, Mr. Rawn! Ain't seen you sence last year! Come on in and talk -things over--the old woman'll lay a couple extra dishes for dinner. It -ain't often we have the honor of company for meals, and we like to make -the most of them!" - -Wally accepted the invitation, and after he and Blackie washed the dust -from their faces, they sat on the porch and chatted with the farmer -until the smoking hot meal was served. The leader was impatient to be -off, but the pleasure of the farmer and his wife at having visitors was -so great that it was some time before he could break away. The dinner -was leisurely and abundant, and afterwards nothing would do but they -must chat with the garrulous farmer about every subject he could think -of, from hog cholera to philosophy; and he insisted on playing his -entire stock of old country tunes on his banjo before they finally -parted. - -"It's not far now," said Wally as they again took the road. "The last -ridge is only about a mile ahead." - -This cheered the plodding Blackie a little, but all the same it seemed -as if that mile was the longest in the world. At last they reached the -summit, and instead of another dreary stretch ahead they were rewarded -with an exhilarating prospect of the lake below and the flat countryside -beyond in the direction of Elmville. As they paused to get their breath, -a bugle call trilled up to them from the lodge. - -"Come down and wash your dirty neck----" sang Wally, keeping time to the -trumpet-call. "He's sounding Swim Call. That means they must be starting -the swimming meet! Hurry, Blackie--it must be at least two o'clock; -everybody will be streaking down to the dock. See that bunch of fellows -over in the baseball field? That must be the gang from Camp Shawnee." - -The two broke into a run which took them past the spring and down to the -signal tower. Here they left the road, which bent at right angles, and -plunged down the hillside through the green woods, following the trail -beside the pipe-line. Inside of twenty minutes they were stumbling into -Tent Four, where they sat on their bunks to catch their breaths. - -They found the tent rows deserted; evidently every camper was assembled -down beside the lake. Wally recovered his breath first, and urged by the -necessity of going on duty at the dock, slipped out of his clothes and -into his swimming suit. Blackie, after five minutes' rest, began to -undress slowly. - -"You're not so crazy for a swim you want to hustle right down now, are -you?" asked Wally in surprise. "You better take a nap, son." - -Blackie shook his head. "I've got to get in the meet, Wally! It's my -last chance--you know I have to leave camp to-morrow; I'm only signed up -for the first two weeks. And you've put in a lot of time teaching me the -Australian crawl stroke, and I want to show what I can do in a real -swimming meet. Will you enter me in the distance swims and the high -dive?" - -The councilor grinned. "You sure are a glutton for punishment! I -wouldn't think, after the last couple of days, you'd have steam enough -left for swimming contests! But I admire your gameness, and I'll sure -put your name down." He buttoned the strap on his bathing suit, thrust -his feet into a pair of tennis shoes, and dashed off down the path -toward the dock, from the direction of which came a confused babble of -shouting and cheering. The swimming meet was already in full swing. - -Blackie went down to the lake only a few minutes later, meeting no one -on his way. The boat dock and the shore were lined with swimmers and -spectators; about a hundred of them were strange boys and leaders, -wearing the red arrowhead of Camp Shawnee, who had hiked down from Iron -Lake to accept Lenape hospitality for the day and contest Lenape -superiority in the water. The life-saving boats were stationed further -out than usual, and Wally Rawn, with a whistle about his neck and papers -and a megaphone in his hands, was stationed on the upper deck of the -tower, directing the events, assisted by the chiefs of the two camps. - -The first person Blackie encountered as he stepped on the dock was Ken -Haviland. The aide gave him a stare of contempt. - -"Humph!" he snorted. "So you came crawling back to camp just as I knew -you would! Well, you might just as well have stayed away. What's the -idea of the bathing suit? You needn't think we want a fellow like you to -represent us against Shawnee." - -"Wally has entered me in the meet," said Blackie stoutly. "You shouldn't -kick if he thinks it's all right." - -"Wally's running the meet, and what he says goes," admitted Ken -grudgingly, "but as far as the campers are concerned, you don't count." -He turned away, refusing to speak further. - -"Third event--underwater swim, junior class!" came Wally's voice through -the megaphone. The six contestants, three from each camp, lined up at -the end of the dock and when the whistle sounded took off with flat -racing dives. The spectators cheered as the boys hit the water; and the -wearers of the arrowhead gave a happy yell as their contenders took -first and third places. Steffins of Lenape ran a close second with a -fast breast-stroke. - -"What's the score now?" Blackie asked the boy next to him. It was Slim -Yerkes, and he favored Blackie with a stare. - -"I'd keep quiet if I were you," he said. "Don't forget you're still on -the blacklist around here." He moved off, and Blackie sat down weakly on -a rock on shore. He had hoped that by this time the edict of the -Kangaroo Court had been forgotten and that he could once more speak -freely with his comrades; but since his return not one of them had -spoken to him in friendship or asked about his adventures. - -He did not try to talk with anyone again, but sat where he was and -watched the progress of the swimming meet with dull eyes. The Shawnee -team was a good one; a red-headed, slightly-built lad named Lawrence -took honors in the junior class in diving, winning several first places -in the form and fancy events, and a husky kid whom his Shawnee -camp-mates called "Hobo" starred in the sprints. They both helped to -give Lenape the worst of it, and at the end of the junior contest the -score was Shawnee, 37; Lenape, 23. - -Blackie caught sight of Irish Gallegher among the groups on shore, but -did not want to speak to him. The senior diving events were now called, -and Blackie answered to his name among those competing in high-diving. -There were about seven contestants entered from each camp, and every -entrant was entitled to three dives. They assembled on the upper dock -platform, where a runway and springboard jutted out over the end of the -piers. In this event Lenape, thanks to Wally's careful training, was in -its glory and took all three places. Steve Link, who was a member of the -life-saving crew, took first; Blackie, in spite of his weariness, won -second; and Terry Tompkins came third. Blackie had conquered his tired -muscles and performed a very creditable back jack-knife dive, but not -one of his team-mates shook his hand or dropped him a "Well done!" -Disgruntled, he retired to his place on the rock and watched the Lenape -team slowly shorten the difference in score as the senior events -progressed. - -The "funny dive" came last of all, and was won by Fat Crampton, the -pudgy lion-hunter. He had been entered at the last moment by the -joke-loving Sax McNulty, and his victory came as a surprise to -everybody, but most of all to Fat himself. He had timidly approached the -board, for he was not used to diving in any form; and while he stood at -the end debating with himself what to do, his foot slipped and he -toppled heels over head into the water. His arms became entangled in his -legs as he fell, and he came up with such a pop-eyed, startled look on -his puffy face that the judges immediately awarded him the blue ribbon, -although he had to be pulled out by a delegation of volunteer -life-savers. - -The diving events in the senior class were finished, and the score stood -somewhat closer, with Lenape standing 42 against Shawnee's 48. Wally -summoned the contestants in the fifty-yard dash, in which Blackie had -not entered, wishing to save all his power for the more demanding -distance events. A rangy, sandy-haired youth with the emblem of the -Junior Red Cross on his jersey stepped forward and was hailed by a -volley of cheers from the wearers of the red. "Dunning! Show 'em how to -do it, Dunning!" He was evidently their champion, and he had a confident -smile on his face which might betoken bad news for the Lenape -supporters. - -As a matter of fact, Dunning did win the fifty-yard with ease, although -his triumph was offset by Link and Gil Shelton, who took second and -third places for the Lenape side of the score. The representatives of -the green and white also took first and second in the underwater swim, -making the tally read Shawnee, 52; Lenape, 50, with only three more -events yet to be contested. - -"Hundred-yard swim!" came Wally's voice hoarsely through the megaphone. -"Shawnee team--Dunning, Coombes, Lipsky; Lenape team--Haviland, Link, -Thorne!" - -Blackie rose and walked stiffly to the end of the dock; he was more -tired than he had thought, for no boy can hike with a heavy pack through -mountain roads for seven hours and still hope to be fresh and springy in -a gruelling distance swim the same afternoon. He lined up with the six -contenders, between the confident Dunning and Ken Haviland. The latter -twisted his mouth when he saw Blackie beside him. - -"Still trying, huh? Well, let me tell you, Thorne, I'd rather lose the -meet than have a fellow like you help to win it--and every fellow in -Lenape thinks the same!" - -Blackie said nothing, but a red tide of resentment climbed to his brain. -So that was what they thought of him! But at least they couldn't say he -was a quitter; he would do his best in spite of what any of them said! -He clamped his jaw, and stared out over the sparkling waters of the -lake, over the course that had been marked out by two of the life-boats, -trying to recall everything that Wally had taught him about the -crawl-stroke--trudgeon kick, powerful overhand pull with the arms, -measured breathing once in four strokes. - -"Ready--set----" - -The shrill purl of the starter's whistle sounded, and six lithe bodies -cleaved the water. Blackie, full of anger and determination, put every -ounce of his waning strength into his strokes, fighting to keep his head -and time his muscles scientifically. He did not dare look around to see -how the other contestants were coming, although he was aware of a sandy -head driving through the water a little to his left and half a length -ahead. The course seemed short, but a stiff hundred-yard swim will try -the power of even a swimmer in the best of training. He headed for the -line stretched between the two boats, his arms moving over his head in a -steady rhythm that kept time with the beat of his legs, his face buried -in cool bubbling water. He'd show them! Summoning up his last straining -ounce of power, he spurted to win ahead of the swimmer to his left, and -passed him just as the shadow of the life-saving boat fell upon their -faces. - -"Thorne wins!" came the voice of one of the judges from the boat. -"Dunning second, Coombes third!" - -There was an uneasy silence among the Lenape supporters, but after half -a minute there rose a belated cheer from the wearers of the red -arrowhead, who were disappointed that their favorite had not won, but -who consoled themselves with the thought that Shawnee was still in the -lead. - -Blackie took his time paddling back to the dock. He did not expect -congratulations for his victory; but he was now beyond the stage of -caring. All he had wanted to do was to show Ken Haviland that he was -game; and the taunts of the aide had given Blackie just that extra ounce -of vitality that had enabled him to spurt ahead of Dunning. He climbed -unassisted to the dock, and stood watching the next event, breathing -deeply to get his wind in preparation for the concluding event of the -meet, the two-hundred-yard swim that was the most demanding of all -contests upon the grit and capabilities of the racer. - -Some thirty boys were lined up for the next contest, a free-for-all -marathon over a triangular course that led around two boats stationed -some yards apart in front of the dock; and at the summons of the whistle -there ensued a scrambling battle-royal for places in the water. Most of -the bunch dropped out before the first boat was reached, but among the -remaining swimmers there was a desperate contest to see who would touch -the wharf first. The Lenape cohorts broke into mad cheers when they -found that their entrants in this helter-skelter marathon had placed -first and third, and the yells of all the spectators grew and swelled -out over the water when it was found that the tallies for the last two -events had brought the score to a dead tie, with 57 points for each -camp. - -The excitement was at fever heat as the contenders lined up for the -final event of the afternoon's sport, the two-hundred-yard swim. The -entries were almost the same as for the shorter distance, except that -Link had been replaced by Soapy Mullins. Dunning, somewhat crestfallen, -eyed Blackie with a vengeful air, as if resolved to wipe out the memory -of his previous defeat. Coombes, who had placed third in the -hundred-yard event, looked pale and tired. Blackie stole a look at Ken -Haviland, who was again ranged at his side, but the aide paid no -attention. Blackie saw him feeling the right side of his abdomen -tenderly, and thought he caught Ken making a slight grimace of pain; but -the signal for ready came at that moment, and Ken straightened his body -and gritted his teeth as the starter put his whistle to his lips. - -Brr-r-r-r! The six racers took the water and the gruelling contest -began, with two hundred pairs of eyes fastened upon their shining -muscles, sleek heads, and straining bodies. The last race--the race upon -which depended the camp championship of the season, the victory of the -green and white or the red arrowhead! No wonder the air was filled with -cheers and shouts of encouragement! Once or twice Blackie caught the -sound of his own name rising from that bedlam of excited watchers. He -smiled to himself, filled with a great elation. He had whipped Dunning -before, and knew he could do it again. Turning his head with a jerk, he -saw that Coombes was already out of the race, had dropped behind, too -exhausted to continue. Beside Blackie, the speedy Dunning whipped -through the water, followed by Ken Haviland and Soapy Mullins and -closely pursued by Lipsky. It was to be a close race, in spite of the -distance. - -Onward Blackie Thorne churned his way, tossing diamond-like drops from -his hair as he surged through the water. Ahead he could see the dipping -life-boats that marked the end of the journey. Tie score--if he nosed -Dunning out for first place, it was almost a sure thing that one of the -other Lenape contenders would finish ahead of the slow-going Lipsky, and -end the meet with a slender lead of two points that would, however, give -Lenape the day. - -Ken Haviland was shooting ahead, and was now close on the flailing legs -of Dunning. Blackie, with his eyes on the goal, was slowly but surely -increasing his half-length lead over the Shawnee favorite, when he heard -a low cry that made him turn his head and halt his even stroke. - -Ken was in trouble. His pallid face was twisting with pain, and his arms -floated helplessly at his side. "Blackie!" he gasped. "Cramps! I'm -done----" - -Dunning forged ahead, either not hearing of Haviland's plight or else, -still smarting from his defeat, determined that nothing should interfere -to lose him this last and decisive race. Blackie held his stroke, and -Dunning caught up with him in an instant. - -For only a split second did Blackie hesitate. Two voices seemed to be -shouting in his ears at the same time, arguing against each other. - -"Ken is out of it, but there's still a good chance that Mullins will -beat Lipsky for third. Go ahead and win!" counselled the first. - -"But Ken has cramps--he'll drown if you don't help him!" contended the -other voice. - -"He hates you--don't throw away your big chance to win just on his -account! He said himself he'd rather lose the meet than have you win!" - -"No, he's sick! He needs you!" - -A clock was ticking somewhere in his brain, ticking off the fractions of -seconds in which he must make up his mind what to do. Already Dunning -was beyond him, plowing determinedly for the goal. Blackie made his -decision. In a few speedy strokes he was by Ken's side. - -"I'll hold you up--don't struggle!" he shouted in the aide's ear, and -put forth a supporting arm. Ken's face was blanched and torn with pain, -and he floundered about helplessly, the muscles of his limbs knotted in -paralyzing lumps, his abdomen gripped with shooting pangs. Blackie knew -that he must be very sick indeed. - -Soapy Mullins passed them some yards to their right, followed by Lipsky -trailing unsteadily in his wake. - -"Take it easy!" said Blackie. "Don't get scared! It'll pass off soon." - -Of a sudden Ken's muscles relaxed, and he found he could move his arms -and support himself somewhat. "What happened?" he gasped. "Did they stop -the race?" - -A voice through a megaphone from the boats answered his question. -"Dunning wins! Mullins, second; Lipsky, third. Shawnee wins the -meet--score, 61 to 59!" - -From the shore came the wild hurrahs of the victors, and a sportsmanlike -cheer from the Lenape campers for those who had vanquished them. In the -excitement of the race, few of the watchers had noticed that Blackie had -gone to the aid of Ken, and most of them had assumed that the two had -merely dropped out, overcome by the cruel demands of the contest. - -Ken's face was a blank. "But--but that's not fair! We ought to run the -race over again--you would have won easy if you hadn't come to help me, -Blackie!" - -Blackie shook his head. "The meet's over. No use kicking up a fuss and -having the Shawnee bunch think we're a gang of poor sports who start -crabbing when they lose. It's our hard luck, and we might as well take -our medicine. If you feel better now, come on and I'll tow you over to -the boat." - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - THE END--AND THE BEGINNING - - -The campers from Iron Lake departed northwards about five o'clock in -holiday mood, singing their camp song as they hiked, more than contented -to have won the close-fought victory in the water. Some of the Lenape -tribe accompanied them a mile or two on the road, and were forced to -swallow a lot of good-natured chaffing about their defeat, which they -felt keenly. - -Blackie did not go with them. He had helped Ken Haviland ashore, and -seen him carried off toward the hospital tent and the ministrations of -Dr. Cannon; and then he returned to Tent Four and dressed in a clean -outfit. He was agreeably tired, but the swim had braced him immensely, -and he was comfortable in body for the first time since he had run away. -His mind was far from easy, however, as he answered the bugle's summons -and stood Retreat ceremony with the tent groups. He was still in -coventry; not a boy spoke to him, and many were the black looks cast in -his direction. - -It was the same at supper. Wally presided over a quiet table that night. -Gallegher sat gloomily next to the vacant chair that belonged to Ken -Haviland. Fat Crampton, with his usual good humor, was attacking his -food with gusto, rather pleased with himself for winning a first place -in the diving; Guppy and Lefkowitz chattered together now and then; but -Slater could not forget how easily Lenape might have held the -championship had things been a little different. - -Once Guppy turned to Slater and said, "Gee, that fellow Dunning wasn't -any slouch of a swimmer, was he?" - -"He was pretty good, all right--but he would have been beaten in that -last race if a certain guy--I won't mention any names--wasn't yellow. It -would have won us the meet, too." Slater looked meaningly at Blackie, -who flushed and gazed down at his plate, biting his lip to keep back a -bitter retort. - -After the dessert, Wally leaned over to Blackie. "The Chief wants to see -you in his office, son," he said, "right after supper. He's got a friend -of yours in there with him now." - -"All right, Wally." Blackie knew who that friend of his was; a saddled -horse was tethered outside that could belong to no one but Sheriff -Manders. When the dismissal signal was given, he went over to the office -door with a pounding heart, and entered at the Chief's cheery -invitation. - -The Chief nodded as he saw Blackie. "Come in, Thorne. You've met Sheriff -Manders, I hear. He's ridden over to get your affadavit against the two -men who attacked Rattlesnake Joe. Just tell him slowly everything that -happened, and don't keep anything back." - -The sheriff had paper and pen before him, and with a gentle kindliness -asked Blackie many questions, writing down the boy's answers in a round, -careless hand. The Chief said no word, but listened with increasing -attention as the tale of Blackie's adventures was unfolded. When the -officer pronounced himself satisfied, he looked over at the Chief with a -quizzical air. - -"Kind of a lot of trouble for a kid his size to get into, eh? Well, -you've helped the state to prosecute a pair of brutal criminals, young -Thorne, and I think I may venture to say that----" - -The Chief cut in on his speech. "We won't talk about that now, Mr. -Manders, if you don't mind." - -"Just as you say. Well, I'll be going now. Thank you both. 'Night!" He -stamped out of the office. - -Blackie made no move to leave, but cleared his throat huskily. He had -the most distasteful task in the world before him, the job of admitting -that he was a coward who had sought to shield himself from punishment -behind a lie. - -"Chief, I--I want to tell you something." - -"Go ahead, Blackie." The Chief's face betrayed nothing of what he might -be thinking. "They say that confession is good for the soul." - -"I lied to you the other night. I was with Gallegher when he broke the -camp rule against smoking, and I smoked too. I'm sorry I lied, and I'm -willing to take my punishment." - -"You know what that means?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"All right. You can go now." - -The Chief nodded that the affair was ended for the present, and Blackie -left the little office. He had done it. A great load was lifted from his -heart; he had confessed like a man, and things were understood between -the Chief and himself. However painful might be the outcome, at least he -had cleared away the black stain on his conscience. - -A busy crew of stage-hands was arranging the lodge in the semblance of a -theater, for that night was to be given the musical show, "Coo-Coo," in -which Sax McNulty and an imposing troupe of camp talent were to perform -for the amusement of the campers, a few visitors from the city, and some -neighboring farmers. As Blackie passed out to the porch, it was just -growing dusk. From the lake he could hear laughter and shouts of gaiety; -in spite of the afternoon's defeat it was to be a night of merriment. -Chinese lanterns gleamed from the dock, which was crowded with campers -dressed in masquerade regalia; boat-loads of boys in costumes ranging -from African wild-man to pirate were rowing about amidst song and -fun-making, watching a canoe-tilting contest, at the end of which one -crew or another would be pushed over with a long bamboo pole and -precipitated into the water. Blackie turned away and headed for the -hospital tent. There was little happiness in his heart, and he did not -wish to be reminded of the gaiety of others. - -Ken Haviland was sitting up in bed when he arrived, and invited him in -with a voice that showed he had quite recovered from the mishap of the -swimming race. "Sit down here on the bed, Blackie," he said. "The Doc -filled me up with hot water and ginger, and I'm as well as ever, only he -won't let me get up. It's too bad, because I feel fine, and don't want -to miss the big show." - -"That's great, Ken." - -"What's the matter? You look about as happy as a corpse." - -"Aw, the guys in the tent are still jumping on me because I didn't win -the last race. Slater called me yellow at supper, and all the others -thought I was, too." - -"Did they? Well, soon as I get out of here, I'll fix that! Wait till -they hear what really happened; they'll be sorry they didn't have better -sense. By the way, I'm passing around the word that the Kangaroo Court -decision is all off, and we've forgotten all about it. I'm sorry for -what I've been thinking of you all along." - -"I deserved it, Ken. I've been just a fresh kid ever since I hit camp--I -see it all now. I--I guess the gang will be glad to see me go back to -the city to-morrow." - -Ken leaned forward, and put his hand on Blackie's shoulder. "Don't you -think it! You've only been here two weeks, but you've done a lot for -Lenape. I don't know what the Chief thinks, but as soon as Doc Cannon -lets me out of here, the bunch is going to find out what kind of a hero -you really are!" - -"The Chief knows," said Blackie dully. "He's going to square up with me -in the morning." - -Blackie left the tent thinking of what the morning would be sure to -bring, and in a dejected mood went down to Tent Four. It was dark and -deserted; the whole camp was now assembled in the lodge, from which came -down to him the lively strains of music from the camp orchestra, the -overture of the show. The happiness of the campers only emphasized his -pangs of loneliness, and he slowly donned pajamas and climbed into his -bunk. The strain of the day soon proved too much for him, and lulled by -the music, he drifted off to sleep, from which he did not waken when his -tent-mates tumbled into their bunks when Call to Quarters sounded at -eleven o'clock. - -Blackie woke in the misty dawn the next morning, and softly, so as not -to wake his slumbering tent-mates, dressed in his city clothes and began -packing his blankets and stuffing his camping-kit into his sea-bag. -To-day he would leave Lenape, leave the lake and the hills and go back -to the hot city. Well, that was the only thing to do. He was in bad with -the boys and the Chief, he told himself; he had failed in almost -everything he had attempted to do. After two weeks of the Lenape life, -he was not any better a camper than when he first landed in Tent Four. -True, he had won his honor emblem, but that was sure to be stripped from -him. He wore it on his jersey still, buttoned under his coat; but he -knew that he had no better right to wear it than Gallegher had, as -everyone would soon discover. - -Reveille blew before he had finished his packing, and he continued -making ready for departure while the pajama crew went down for Indian -dip. He noticed that about a dozen other boys, who were also leaving at -the end of the first section, were also getting into their unaccustomed -travelling clothes and stowing their camp things into suitcases and -bags. By the time Assembly sounded, Blackie was ready to leave for the -station at a moment's notice. - -He lined up with his comrades before the flagpole. All during the -ceremony of flag salute and while the buglers were trumpeting Call to -Colors, his nervousness increased. He dreaded what was coming; it was -worse than a trip to the dentist. The Chief was sure to speak this -morning. In a few moments he would be disgraced before all the campers. -He looked toward the end of the line hastily. Little Pete Lister was -standing there with his drum strapped about his neck. - -"Attention!" came the Chief's command. He stood with dignified sternness -before them, and the files straightened. - -"Blackie Thorne, five paces forward!" - -There was a stir among the campers as Blackie marched forward with chin -up, arms at his side, and a set face. They, too, guessed what was coming -now. - -"I wish I hadn't said he was yellow yesterday," whispered Slater behind -his hand. "That kid's got nerve!" - -"He sure has!" responded Gallegher. "I know what he feels like now, and -believe me, it's no joke! But it was all my fault--I really dragged him -into it." - -"Silence in the ranks! Blackie Thorne, you have admitted to me that you -have been guilty of conduct unbecoming to a Lenape camper, and have -signified your willingness to abide by whatever punishment is inflicted. -Is that right?" - -Blackie flushed, but looked his Chief straight in the eye. "Yes, sir." - -"You will here, in the sight of all your comrades, be stripped of the -honor emblem which has been made unworthy by your act." - -Blackie braced himself, waiting; the Chief stepped forward with the -blade of a knife gleaming in his hand. Now it was coming! He felt the -Chief pulling away his coat and cutting the stitches of the green and -white badge. The clattering tattoo from Lister's drum was in his ears. -The Chief stepped backward, putting away the knife. Now it was all over. -Blackie made a move to return to his place in line. - -"Stay where you are, Thorne!" - -The campers started with surprise; they had not anticipated this. -Blackie waited, expecting some further reprimand. - -"I still have another duty to do," announced the Chief evenly. "But -first I want to tell a story which some of you may have read in a book -by Victor Hugo, a book called 'Ninety-Three.' It tells there of an -incident which happened on board a French warship. Through the -carelessness of the chief gunner, one of the huge cannons on the deck -broke away from its chains, and pitched about by the rough sea, rolled -from one end of the ship to the other like a monstrous metal -battering-ram on wheels, killing many sailors who could not get out of -its way, smashing the other cannons that were to defend the ship from -the enemy, and battering the timbers until the vessel was in danger of -sinking. It seemed impossible for the brutal rushes of the gun to be -checked; but one man, armed only with a handspike and a rope, jumped -down on the deck and struggled to halt its mad career. It was the chief -gunner, the man who was to blame for the deadly danger to the ship and -her crew; and after a superhuman battle in which he nearly lost his -life, he succeeded in overturning the cannon and lashing it so that it -could do no further harm." - -The Chief paused a moment. Blackie was listening in a daze, wondering -what this tale could have to do with him. - -"When all was safe again," continued the Chief, "the gunner was brought -to be judged by the general who commanded the ship. The general first -pinned upon the gunner's jacket the cross of St. Louis, the medal for -military merit, as an award for his bravery in capturing the cannon. He -then ordered the man to be shot because his negligence had endangered -the ship. The gunner was executed with the cross of honor on his breast, -rewarded for his courage and punished for failing in his duty." - -Again the Chief paused; the boys looked at each other wonderingly. - -"Sooner or later all of us get our just rewards for what we make of -ourselves, as that wise general knew. Blackie Thorne broke a camp rule, -told a lie to escape punishment, and ran away from camp rather than face -the consequences of his act. But when you hear what other deeds he has -done, you may agree that he has wiped out some of the counts against -him. Yesterday he threw away the glory of winning the swimming meet for -his camp in order to go to the assistance of a stricken tent-mate, a boy -whom he disliked; and afterwards he did not mention anything about his -reason for dropping out of the race, fearing to be a poor sportsman. The -winning of even a contest against Shawnee is, in my opinion, nothing to -be compared with the display of bravery shown by Blackie in the water -yesterday afternoon." - -A cheer rose from the campers, involuntarily bursting forth from their -lips. Excitement ran high. Blackie listened, abashed by this sudden turn -of favor. - -"Blackie was again put to the test when he encountered a pair of -dangerous criminals who were wanted by the law. With courage and -discernment, he captured those men at great risk to himself. Now, -although he did not know about it, there was a reward offered for the -person who led to the arrest of these malefactors, and last night the -sheriff brought over to me a check for three thousand dollars, which I -am now presenting to Blackie Thorne." - -The Chief was unable to speak further; his words were drowned in a -torrent of cheers that made the mountains echo. Somehow the command to -march was given, and the hungry horde stamped off to breakfast, still -shouting Blackie's name to the skies. - -Blackie stood bewildered, clutching the check in his hand. Three -thousand dollars! Wally, who had left the line, put his arm around the -boy's shoulder and looked down into his face. - -"How do you like being rich, Blackie?" he laughed. "Does it feel funny -at first?" - -"It sure does!" exclaimed Blackie. "Say, when I think how happy my -mother will be when I tell her I can buy lots of things we couldn't have -before, I----" - -"Don't trouble to explain. By the way, when the Chief told me about this -check last night, I sent a telegram off to your mother asking her if you -could stay for the rest of the season if she didn't have to pay any more -money. I didn't break the news about your reward to her--you can do that -yourself--but just a little while ago I got a wire from her, and she -agrees that you can stay at Lenape clear up to September! Six weeks more -of camp for you, Blackie--how does that sound?" - -"Great!" There was a lump in the boy's throat as he looked out over the -campus he had come to love. Six weeks more of free, out-door comradeship -with Wally and the Chief and the whole gang of good fellows! "Say, -Wally, remember how you told me one day that there was a treasure around -here?" He looked down at the check in his hand. "I didn't believe you -then, but I do now." - -"Blackie," his councilor assured him solemnly, "you found that treasure -right in your own heart--the rich treasure of true Lenape spirit!" - - - THE END - - - - - Transcriber's Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original--this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the - HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Blackie Thorne at Camp Lenape, by Carl Saxon - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKIE THORNE AT CAMP LENAPE *** - -***** This file should be named 51539.txt or 51539.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/5/3/51539/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -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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