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diff --git a/old/60269-0.txt b/old/60269-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c61a5a6..0000000 --- a/old/60269-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11078 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Along the Mohawk Trail, by Percy Keese -Fitzhugh, Illustrated by Remington Schuyler - - -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: Along the Mohawk Trail - Boy Scouts on Lake Champlain - - -Author: Percy Keese Fitzhugh - - - -Release Date: September 9, 2019 [eBook #60269] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALONG THE MOHAWK TRAIL*** - - -E-text prepared by Roger Frank and Sue Clark from page images digitized by -the Google Books Library Project (http://books.google.com) and generously -made available by HathiTrust Digital Library (https://www.hathitrust.org/) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 60269-h.htm or 60269-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/60269/60269-h/60269-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/60269/60269-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - HathiTrust Digital Library. See - https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/100499121 - - - - - -ALONG THE MOHAWK TRAIL - - - * * * * * * - - National Headquarters - BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA - THE FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING, 200 FIFTH AVENUE - NEW YORK CITY - - July 31st, 1913 - -TO THE PUBLIC: - -In the execution of its purpose to give educational value and moral -worth to the recreational activities of the boyhood of America, the -leaders of the Boy Scout Movement quickly learned that to effectively -carry out its program, the boy must be influenced not only in his -out-of-door life but also in the diversions of his other leisure -moments. It is at such times that the boy is captured by the tales of -daring enterprises and adventurous good times. What now is needful is -not that his taste should be thwarted but trained. There should -constantly be presented to him the books the boy likes best, yet -always the books that will be best for the boy. As a matter of fact, -however, the boy’s taste is being constantly vitiated and exploited by -the great mass of cheap juvenile literature. - -To help anxiously concerned parents and educators to meet this grave -peril, the Library Commission of the Boy Scouts of America has been -organised. EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY is the result of their labors. All the -books chosen have been approved by them. The Commission is composed of -the following members: George F. Bowerman, Librarian, Public Library -of the District of Columbia, Washington, D. C.; Harrison V. Graver, -Librarian, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, Pa.; Claude G. Leland, -Superintendent, Bureau of Libraries, Board of Education, New York -City; Edward F. Stevens, Librarian, Pratt Institute Free Library, -Brooklyn, New York; together with the Editorial Board of our Movement, -William D. Murray, George D. Pratt and Frank Presbray, with Franklin -K. Mathiews, Chief Scout Librarian, as Secretary. - -In selecting the books, the Commission has chosen only such as are of -interest to boys, the first twenty-five being either works of fiction -or stirring stories of adventurous experiences. In later lists, books -of a more serious sort will be included. It is hoped that as many as -twenty-five may be added to the Library each year. - -Thanks are due the several publishers who have helped to inaugurate -this new department of our work. Without their co-operation in making -available for popular priced editions some of the best books ever -published for boys, the promotion of EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY would have -been impossible. - -We wish, too, to express our heartiest gratitude to the Library -Commission, who, without compensation, have placed their vast -experience and immense resources at the service of our Movement. - -The Commission invites suggestions as to future books to be included -in the Library. Librarians, teachers, parents, and all others -interested in welfare work for boys, can render a unique service by -forwarding to National Headquarters lists of such books as in their -judgment would be suitable for EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY. - - Signed - James E. West - Chief Scout Executive. - - * * * * * * - - -[Illustration: “EACH TIME HE WITHDREW THE STICK, THE BEAST GAINED AN -INCH OR TWO.”] - - - -Every Boy’S Library—Boy Scout Edition - -ALONG THE MOHAWK TRAIL - -or - -Boy Scouts on Lake Champlain - -by - -PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH - -Illustrated by Remington Schuyler - - - - - - -New York -Grosset & Dunlap -Publishers - -Copyright, 1912, -By Thomas Y. Crowell Company - - - - - CONTENTS - - I. The Needle in the Haystack - II. A Glimpse at the Haystack - III. A Good Turn and a Salute - IV. The Haystack vs. Gordon Lord - V. The Forest Hits Back - VI. The Sign of the Turtle - VII. When Scout Meets Scout - VIII. The Message of the Flame - IX. Harry Arnold, Scout - X. The Swastika - XI. Frankie Squares Accounts - XII. Shades of the Green Mountain Boys - XIII. An Extraordinary Invention - XIV. On Dibble Mountain - XV. The Owner of the Reticule - XVI. Gordon interferes in Family Matters - XVII. In Hoc Signo Vinces - XVIII. At the Finish Line - XIX. The Fate of the Blue Sweaters - XX. Gordon Goes up in the Air—Also Harry - XXI. Making the Glider - XXII. Harry Finds a Way - XXIII. History Repeats Itself - XXIV. Mr. Danforth has His Way - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - “Each time he withdrew the stick, the beast gained an inch or two” - - Map of the “Haystack” - - “‘Hello, what are you doing?’” - - “‘I never in my life!’ she exclaimed” - - “He leaned over and seized the sinking figure by the collar” - - - - -[Illustration: MAP OF THE “HAYSTACK”] - - - - - ALONG THE MOHAWK TRAIL - - - - - CHAPTER I - - THE NEEDLE IN THE HAYSTACK - - -Gordon Lord flung his duffel bag into the bench on the station platform -and, casting himself precipitately beside it, smiled the smile of the -Scouts. It was the genuine, original, warranted scout smile, done to -perfection. It had often been remarked of Gordon that when he smiled his -lips formed a perfect crescent, so that if the words “Be Prepared” had -been printed on his white, even teeth, the effect would have been -perfectly natural. Moreover, it was somewhat to his credit that he -smiled on the present occasion, for several commuters who were in the -same predicament as himself stalked up and down the platform in anything -but an amiable humor. One of them was muttering unflattering comments on -his chauffeur; another was looking scornfully at the gold watch which -had deceived him; two others were discussing the dilatory habits of -domestic servants; and the rest were denouncing the railroad. - -Only Gordon Lord smiled—and swung his legs back and forth, and smiled -more and more. He had made a great sprint down the hill, to no avail, -and now, as he sat on the bench pulling up his stocking, which had -treacherously worked its way down his leg in the course of his rapid -progress, an amusing question presented itself to his original mind; and -he resolved then and there to confound Red Deer with it, so soon as he -should set eyes on that individual. As every scout in good standing -knows, it is his duty to _be prepared_, to be on hand when he is -supposed to be on hand, and to be on time always. But it is also his -avowed obligation to do a good turn every day—one good turn, at least. -Paragraph 3, Scout’s Law, sets these requirements forth clearly. - -And here was Gordon Lord, scout of the second class, who had stopped to -do a good turn and as a direct consequence had failed to be prepared. He -could not do the good turn and be prepared both; which should he have -done? The scout smile broadened as he pondered over this. Here would be -a poser for Red Deer. He loved to ask Red Deer such questions as this; -it was as good as a circus to hear the two of them engaged in a learned -discussion on the technicalities of Scout Law. And Red Deer (who was -scoutmaster of the Oakwood troop) enjoyed it immensely. - -But now Gordon realized that Red Deer and both patrols, the Beavers and -the Hawks, were gliding merrily into the city to catch the Montreal -express. - -Twenty minutes before his spectacular arrival at the station (one minute -after the train had left), he had started from home at “scout pace”—not -because this was necessary, but because it was “scoutish” and Gordon was -nothing if not thorough. He wore his complete scout outfit; khaki hat, -neckerchief showing the Beaver hues (blue and yellow), knotted in the -celebrated Beaver knot of his own invention, which had been unanimously -adopted by the patrol with a vote of thanks to the inventor. No one but -a Beaver could untie the knot except Master Gordon’s mother, who had -laboriously discovered the combination one evening when the young Beaver -had relieved himself of the scarf by lifting it over his head. His shirt -was of a rich, olive-colored flannel, his loose short breeches of khaki, -and his khaki-colored stockings were turned over his garters below the -knee, whence one or other of them was continually slipping down. He -carried his duffel bag on the end of his staff like a peddler with his -pack, and as he went down the wide, tree-bordered street of the -fashionable suburb of Oakwood, his popularity was attested by many a -cheery call or farewell wish from the lawns and porches that he passed. - -He was a picturesque figure that early summer morning as he started for -the station. He was small and lithe in stature, rather too short for his -fourteen years; his complexion was almost of a mulatto brown, and his -brown eyes held a kind of dancing mischief. Long before he had entered -the scout ranks he was remarked by all as an exceedingly attractive boy, -and it needed only the uniform on his compact, active little figure to -complete an altogether quaint and charming impression. - -Thus he sallied gayly down the hill, past the big family mansion of the -Arnolds, and was just turning into the little village park when he came -in sight of Miss Leslie, who was in the midst of an exasperating -dilemma. Miss Leslie taught in the Oakwood school, and had taught Master -Gordon a year or two before. She was at present trying to carry eight -rather thick books, which is a very good thing to do when viewed in the -light of calisthenics. For it is easier to read eight books than to -carry them unless you have a strap or a satchel, and Miss Leslie had -nothing but her small white hands. - -When Gordon first caught sight of her, his trained scout vision showed -him that four books were in Miss Leslie’s arm and four on the sidewalk. -She stooped, picked up two and dropped three. She then picked up one and -dropped another. Then she picked up two. Then she picked up another one. -As she stooped for the last one she dropped three. Matters were about -even; at least, she was holding her own. She picked up two more and -dropped one. She was one ahead. Encouraged by her success, she made a -bold descent for the remaining three, secured two of them and dropped -four. The sidewalk had a majority. Miss Leslie glanced covertly up to -see if any one were watching. Not seeing the scout as he neared, she -cautiously gathered the three books from the sidewalk and for one short, -thrilling second held the entire eight under her arm. Then a trifling -accident marred her triumph—she dropped one book. With great caution -she stooped slowly, grasped the recreant volume, arose victorious, -holding it tightly while—the other seven tumbled to the ground. - -“Hello, Miss Leslie,” said the young scout. - -Miss Leslie, clutching one volume, stood vanquished and humiliated in -the midst of the other seven, and contemplated her former pupil with -mingled surprise and embarrassment. - -“Don’t try to pick them up,” said Gordon; “let me show you something.” - -He took the volume which she held and, laying it on the sidewalk, picked -up another volume and slipped the front cover of this underneath the -cover of the first one. Then he placed the cover of another one -underneath the back cover of the second, and so on until he had piled -the whole rebellious assortment and effectually locked them together. - -“There you are,” said he, and by way of demonstrating the reliability of -the pile, he balanced it on his hand, allowing it to incline this way -and that like the Leaning Tower. The books held fast as if they were -glued together. - -“Did you _ever_ in your life?” said Miss Leslie, in complimentary -astonishment at this sleight-of-hand performance, and trying to take the -books from him. - -“There are tricks in every trade,” said Gordon. - -“And you know them all,” she answered in genuine admiration. - -“But they’re just as heavy as they were before,” he remarked; “I’ll -carry them for you as far as the school.” - -Her protests were useless, for possession is nine points of the law, and -Gordon held the pile of books. So they went along together toward the -school building, which was not at all in line with the station, he -talking volubly all the way. - -“I think you are the boy who once opened a bottle of camphor for me in -the school room by means of a piece of string,” she remarked. - -“That’s nothing,” said Gordon, who loved to impart information. “Do you -know how to open bureau drawers that stick?” - -“Indeed, I wish I did,” she answered, smiling. - -“Lay a heavy stick on the floor in front of the bureau and hit it a good -hard whack with a hammer; if you haven’t a stick, just pound the floor.” - -“Really?” - -“Honest.” - -“Well, that is certainly worth knowing.” - -“That’s nothing—did you know you can make dandy ink out of typewriter -ribbons?” - -“The idea!” - -“That’s how I got this suit—asked the stenographers in my father’s -office to save me their old typewriter ribbons, made ink and sold it; -it’s better than other ink.” - -“And is that your scout suit? I heard the boys were starting for camp -to-day.” - -“Who told you?” - -“I think it was Dr. Brent.” - -“He’s Red Deer; he’s going with us.” - -“And how do you manage to pack so many things in there?” said she, -patting his thick, curly hair. - -“Oh, there isn’t so much in it,” he answered; “a couple of apples, pair -of heavy shoes, a shirt—” - -“What?” - -“Want to look inside?” he asked, laying the pile of books down and -releasing his duffel bag from the end of his staff. - -“Oh, no, I meant inside your head,” said she, laughing; “but here we -are; I shall remember the things you have told me. Good-by, and I hope -your kindness to me will not have made you late for the train.” - -She stood on the school steps (it was the last day of the spring term) -watching him as he walked gayly down the street, his khaki hat on the -back of his round head, and his duffel bag on the end of his scout’s -staff. She heard a man across the street call cheerily to him that he -had only two minutes to catch the train, and she distinctly heard him -answer, “That’s nothing,” and saw him start to run down the hill toward -Oakwood station. - -But it proved to be a great deal, despite the boy’s laconic comment. -Indeed, it is to be seriously questioned whether missing a train ever -before had such a variety of delectable consequences. - -So there he sat where we first saw him, on the station bench, and -thought of the two patrols in charge of Red Deer which were already on -their way to the Adirondacks. They knew that he had had a bad headache -the day before, and they would doubtless assume that to be the cause of -his non-appearance. He pictured their gay trip up the shore of the -lordly Hudson, their luncheon at Albany, their leaving the train at -Ticonderoga and tramping forth in quest of a suitable camp. But whether -they would settle north or south or west of Ticonderoga, he did not -know. They would pitch their tents this very night somewhere along the -shore of that watery serpent, Lake Champlain, but exactly where Red Deer -would lead them would depend largely on information gathered _en route_. - -He wondered what Arnold would think of him. Those had been fine plans -that he and Arnold had made for hanging together and testing their new -signal system, and tracking and stalking in each other’s company. It was -Harry Arnold who had brought Gordon into the troop as a tenderfoot, and -it had been a great discovery for the elder boy. It had also opened up a -field for Master Gordon which belittled his fondest dreams. For even -before the organization came into existence he was, in all essential -particulars, a thorough, out-and-out Boy Scout. And indeed, it might -reasonably have seemed to him that the local troop had been organized in -order to afford a wider scope for the exploitation of his particular -accomplishments. - -His laconic phrase of “That’s nothing,” when confronted with -difficulties, had come to be a familiar quotation among his intimates, -and he retained the expression after he blossomed forth with his staff -and badge and khaki attire. He could shoot a curve with a marble; he -could tell in which direction a bicycle had gone by its track; he was a -master worker in birch bark; he could make washers and other useful -articles of hardware by the aid of the railroad track; he could kindle -an open air fire in a pelting rain; he was the sole inventor of the -celebrated suction-pad for walking on narrow cliffs and ledges; and he -had memorized the Oakwood fire-signal system. - -A whistle had been recently installed on the Town House, which uttered -an unearthly din whenever there was a fire in town. If it rang ten it -meant one locality; if it rang fifteen it meant another, and thus every -street and corner of the town was provided for. Whenever the whistle -blew, there was frantic hunting in every Oakwood home for the card which -showed the various locality calls. Of course, it is absolutely important -that a boy shall attend a fire, and Gordon at once realized that to -memorize the entire system would enable him always to be first on the -scene. Hence, if he happened to be walking along the street and heard -the screech of the whistle sounding 57, he knew at once in which -direction to go, and it was not uncommon for him to be waiting for the -firemen to point them out the house. Also in school when the lessons -were interrupted by the whistle’s ominous sound, the teacher, after -fumbling in her desk in a vain quest for the elusive card, would say, -“Perhaps Master Gordon can tell us;” and Master Gordon would promptly -answer, “Elm St. near Park Place.” - -He knew the number of paving stones between his home and the corner; he -knew how to locate a baseball in a drain pipe; he could look at a kite -caught on a telegraph wire and tell you approximately where the flier of -the kite had stood when the mishap occurred; he knew just how far it was -to the Guild Room, to the church, to the public library. He loved such -little tidbits of information for their own sake, and like all -wide-awake boys, he had a habit of finding things. - -You will see that here was the material for an A-1 scout, and when I add -that Master Gordon’s only vice (if you call it a vice) was an -unconquerable and excessive fondness for apples, you will know enough of -his character to last you for a chapter or two. - -After the first excitement of missing the train had passed and he had -smiled the matter off, scout fashion, he opened his duffel bag and -sought consolation in a gigantic and mellow specimen of his favorite -fruit. Then he rose and retraced his steps up the hill. There on the -summit stood the fine, old-fashioned mansion of the Arnolds, and beyond -it a hundred yards or so the more modern residence of the Lord family, -standing well back upon its spacious, well-kept lawn. - -There was not a soul stirring about the Arnold place, and as he passed -it he thought again of the boy whose particular companion he had meant -to be. He had a great admiration for Harry Arnold, and Harry, though he -jollied the younger boy and called him “Kid,” was quite under the spell -of his young friend and protégé. - -Surely they would write to him and tell him where they were and how to -get to them; Arnold would attend to that. But perhaps Arnold did not -care so much, after all. He knew he furnished a good deal of amusement -to his friend, but whether Arnold really cared enough—no, very likely -he didn’t. They would all say it was his business to _be prepared_—to -be on hand; Arnold would be the first to say that. - -So Master Gordon Lord walked slowly up the quiet, suburban street until -the roof of his own home was visible through the trees. He had finished -his apple, and he now sent the core spluttering against a tree. The -scout smile had gone under a cloud for the time being, for the boy now -began to realize the extent of his disappointment. There was not another -boy in sight. Ordinarily Arnold would have been mowing the lawn or -attending to some other outdoor work about the place at this time; but -there was no Arnold in sight now, and he seemed doubly absent because -Gordon knew where he had gone. Then his disappointment began to take the -form of anger, and even his anger was not well-directed, for it included -the very boy who had made him a scout and who had helped him into the -second class. But the thought that both patrols would soon be rushing -gayly up the Hudson while he trudged homeward in an almost boyless -Oakwood was too much for him, and he sat down on a rock along the -stretch of road between his own home and the Arnold house and blamed -them all and told himself that Arnold was a “lobstereen”—whatever may -be the meaning of that dreadful appellation. - -Now there are many ways in which a man may afford a vent to his anger, -but the very best way for a boy to do so and by far the most -satisfactory is to choose a suitable target at an appropriate distance -and to sit down on a rock or log and proceed to pelt it with stones. For -with every cast of a missile goes a certain quantity of the unwholesome -spirit till it has all been dissipated in the free air. The first stone -is usually thrown in wrath, the next several in a kind of sullen -carelessness, and lo, the marksman presently finds himself captured by -the sporting instinct and aims, calmly and cheerfully, at his target -with no feeling but the sportsmanlike desire to hit the mark. This -method is strongly recommended to boys and its effects will be found to -be immediate and magic. - -On the present occasion Gordon Lord passed quickly through the wrathful -and sullen stages and rose with characteristic determination and a sure -aim. You cannot aim true when you are angry, and at the present moment -Gordon cared more about hitting the mark than about anything else. -Presently the stone sped from his hand and went banging against the -slender tree. - -“Good shot!” he heard a cheery voice call. - -Gordon turned, and there, as sure as you live, stood Arnold. - -There was no doubt about it. There was the blue flannel shirt with the -double row of pearl buttons. There was the thin book-strap for a belt, -and there was the full scout’s badge, not on his sleeve, but on the -front of his hat. There was the seamanship badge on his right arm. There -was the Beaver neckerchief tied in the celebrated Beaver knot. There was -the leather wristlet. It was Arnold, all right. - -“H-hello, Harry,” gasped Gordon; “what—where did _you_ come from?” - -“Where did _I_ come from? Why, from the station—on a fool hunt after -you. What are you doing here, anyway?” - -“Just throwing stones.” - -“Do you know you’ve missed the train?” - -“I knew that fifteen minutes ago.” - -“Well, you’re a—” - -“No, I’m not, Harry,—now just hold on a minute,—I started down—” - -“Yes,” said Arnold, crossly, “and I waited till five minutes before -train time, then cut up through the fields to your house.” - -“If you’d only come up by the park, you’d have seen me showing Miss -Leslie—honest, Harry, you ought to have been there. She was trying to -juggle eight books down to school and most of them were on the sidewalk. -So there was the chance for your Uncle Gordon. I happened to know a -trick—” - -“I know,” interrupted Arnold, smiling in spite of himself, “you showed -her a way.” - -“Right.” - -“Did a good turn.” - -“Right for Harry.” - -“And missed the train.” - -“Correct.” - -Gordon took a careful aim and sent another stone to the mark. - -“And you did a good turn, too, Harry; a bully one, coming to find me. -You’ve started the day fine.” - -“Yes, we’ve made a grand starter,” said Arnold, as they sauntered toward -his home. “We’re a couple of A-1 scouts—not. The whole troop will be -laughing at us.” - -“But remember the good turns, Harry.” - -“I don’t see us doing any stalking together,” was the reply. - -“Do you know how I fixed those books for her, Harry?” - -“No, and I don’t want to know.” - -They walked on in silence to the Arnold place, and Gordon followed his -somewhat disgruntled friend to the latter’s room. It was familiar ground -to him, for much of their planning and preparation had taken place in -it, and now he threw himself into the comfortable recess of a Morris -chair and tactfully awaited some sign of improvement in his companion’s -humor. Meanwhile, Harry made a tour around his well-filled apartment, -rearranging things and collecting the boyish litter, by way of affording -a vent to his mood. He took a canoe paddle from one corner and placed it -in another. He straightened his school diploma on the wall. His manner -was anything but cordial, and Gordon watched him with a twinkle in his -eye but did not venture a remark. - -“There’s the blazing system,” grunted Harry, throwing a paper over to -the bed. “A lot of good it’ll do us now.” - -He hammered a nail in the wall and hung a pair of moccasins on it. The -nail came out. - -“Put it eighteen inches from the door casing, Harry.” - -“How’d you know that?” - -“Don’t know—just found it out.” - -“Well,” said Harry, after a few minutes more of sullen silence, “what -are we going to do about it?” - -“Do about it?” - -“Yes, what are we going to do about it? Hang around in Oakwood for two -months?” - -“They’ll write.” - -“Yes, I suppose they will,” said Harry. “We’ll hear something in a few -days. The trouble is they may not know for a few days just where they’re -going to settle. You know, they’re going to get out at Ticonderoga and -strike up into the woods north. Red Deer spoke of following the old -Mohawk trail. I wish I had his map.” - -He thrust his hands into his pockets, and stood gazing out of the -window. Neither spoke. - -“Harry,” said Gordon, at length, “it would be a great stunt for us to go -up there and find them.” - -“You must be crazy, Kid.” - -“Of course, they’ll write and tell us where they are, but that may be a -week or more, and when we got to them they’d all laugh at us. Now, if we -could just—” - -“It’s out of the question, Kid.” - -“No, it isn’t either,” persisted Gordon. “Here we are, a couple of -scouts—been tracking and stalking and signaling and woodcrafting and -all that sort of thing for six months. We know the troop is going to -camp along Lake Champlain on the New York side.” - -“Lake Champlain’s a hundred and fourteen miles long,” interrupted Harry. - -“That’s nothing. We know they’re somewhere along the west shore of that -lake—I say, let’s go and find them.” - -“Why, you hair-brained kid, it would be like hunting for a needle in a -haystack,” said Harry, warming up a little to the idea under the younger -boy’s enthusiasm. - -“Well, there’s a way to find a needle in a haystack, Harry. You fix a -big magnet on the end of a long stick and then begin—” - -But that was as far as he got. Harry Arnold sat down on the edge of the -bed and laughed himself hoarse. He came out of this fit in much the same -condition as one comes out from the crisis of a fever. His ill humor was -quite gone and his mood was more agreeable and receptive than it had -been since he left the station in quest of his delinquent friend. - -“It _would_ be a great thing,” said he, “only—” - -“There’s no _only_ about it, Harry. It can be done and we can do it. -We’ll start before there’s a chance to hear. No sirree! They’ll not have -the laugh on me. We’ll drop in on them some fine day as if we’d dropped -from the clouds.” - -The attractive features of the scheme began rapidly to appeal to the -older boy. It was all very well tracking and stalking in the Oakwood -woods, where any member of the troop could take his bearings by the -church steeple. It was all very well pretending to be lost. It was a -good enough makeshift to think up emergencies, to make them to order, -and then gallantly to surmount them by a knowledge of woodcraft. But -here was a real test for their ability, their endurance, their sagacity, -their observation, resource, and experience. A Saturday afternoon -grapple with the little patch of Oakwood woods was like a bout with a -punching bag—the exercise was good, but the element of uncertainty and -real peril was absent. For a punching bag cannot hit back. And after all -they had only been playing a game in which Nature—the opponent—had -been frightfully handicapped. She had held no surprises for them and -presented no obstacles. The difficulties they had overcome had been -manufactured for that especial purpose. They had pretended to be -lost—but they could hear the Town House bell every half-hour. No, the -whole thing seemed tame beside the enchanting picture of a real -encounter with Nature up among the rugged foothills of the Adirondacks. - -There, along the winding course of Lake Champlain, somewhere within hail -of its shore and nestling among the hills that flank it—somewhere in -that wilderness would be encamped the two patrols of the Oakwood scouts. -And shielding them and baffling the searchers would be the swamps, the -mountains, the valleys, and the strange, dim woods. Here would be a -foeman worthy of their steel, and beside it the modest, familiar little -patch of woodland that skirted their suburban home seemed pitiably -small. So that Gordon very truthfully remarked: - -“Honest, Harry, I feel as if I’d been hitting a fellow under my size.” - -Was there a way? What weapons had they with which to encounter this -great silent, enveloping foe, and make it yield up its secret? The -wilderness, the hills and streams, the swamps and thickets, must pay the -cost of the encounter and sustain them in their quest. They would lay -the enemy under contribution for their maintenance. - -They talked it over, warming to the idea as new obstacles presented -themselves. They likened themselves to Stanley hunting for Livingstone -in South Africa. And they told each other what Red Deer would think when -he saw them come walking in—which, of course, they would do in a very -nonchalant and offhand manner, as if they had just happened in for a -little social call. - -“It’ll be great,” said Gordon. - -“After all,” said Arnold, more thoughtfully, “we can’t get lost if we -have a compass. A fire with damp leaves on it is as good as a telephone, -and—” - -“Of course it is,” said Gordon. - -“You can’t freeze if you’ve got a match.” - -“You don’t need a match, Harry—there’s a way—” - -“Yes, there’s always a way when you’re along, Kid.” - -So they talked over the pros and cons of the proposed undertaking, -taking account of all they had learned of woodcraft, and gloating over -the surprise they would give Red Deer and the two patrols, until -finally, from mere excess of enthusiasm, they sat silent, contemplating -the variety of opportunities which the expedition would present for the -testing of their resource and woodcraft skill. - -“Kid,” said Harry Arnold, “the troop can be found wherever they are. We -can reduce the area a good deal by deduction at the very start. We know -they’ll be on the New York shore not far from the lake. It’ll be the -greatest thing in the world for us to go up there and find them, and by -the powers, I’m going to do it if I—” - -“Oh, Harry, let’s start to-night!” said Gordon. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - A GLIMPSE AT THE HAYSTACK - - -Harry Arnold was eighteen years old, and, as you may have noted from the -position of his badge and the color of his scarf, he was leader of the -Beaver patrol. He was tall, lithe, and active, and, without being -exactly an athlete, he gave the impression of being athletic. - -There was a certain indescribable something in his appearance which -suggested the out-of-door life rather than a gymnasium training, and it -is a fact that he seldom did a thing simply and solely because it would -make him strong. There was nothing of the athletic faddist about him, -and it was said by some of the Oakwood boys that he was not much of a -sport. Of course, that depends on what you call sporting, but it must be -confessed that he took but slight interest in games—as such. He liked -to see a good kick on the gridiron, a good ball pitched; he enjoyed -seeing a boy catch a “sky-scraper” or watching a home run. But whether -the pitcher, runner, or catcher wore a white suit or a blue suit or a -red suit, or the initial A or B or any other letter, made little -difference to him. - -He was not much given to talking (his friend Gordon attended to that), -but he was fond of saying, “The question is, what can a fellow do, not -whom can he beat?” He was not particularly fond of either football or -baseball but, if I can make the distinction clear, he was fond of each -feature of these games for its own sake independently of results. It -made several of his companions quite impatient when he calmly protested, -on his way home from the baseball field one day, that the visiting team -which had just been beaten by the Oakwood High School had really done -the best work. - -“Well, we beat them anyway, and that’s how _I_ judge,” said Collins. And -that, indeed, is the way most boys judge. But Arnold had watched each -individual play apart from its connection with the game as a whole, and -he persisted that the visitors had done the best work. - -Perhaps we can get at it best by saying that he had the true sporting -instinct, but lacked the spirit of the contestant. He saw a difference -between the word “success” and the word “victory.” It was a grand, -inspiring thing to see a home run—never mind which side scored. - -He cared nothing for dumb-bells, Indian clubs, elastic exercisers, and -such. He loved the woods and the water, and the things he loved to do -made him strong and enduring. “You cannot get up much of an affection -for dumb-bells and Indian clubs,” he said; “so they don’t do you much -good.” - -I don’t know that I wholly agree with him in this, but I think I catch -his idea, which is sound and wholesome. At all events, we must take him -as we find him. - -He was inordinately fond of boating, and had walked away with the -seamanship badge so easily that it seemed a shame for him to take it. He -gave the examiners good measure in all the tests and threw in several -feats gratis. He could ride a canoe as a cowboy rides a mustang, and had -come alone in one of those little shells from Block Island to New York, -straight through Long Island Sound, in November. - -He was thoughtful and far-sighted, and studious in regard to matters -that interested him specially. In his seamanship test he had voluntarily -drawn a plan of a turbine engine, giving also a description of its -advantages in sea navigation. What he knew, he knew thoroughly, and the -thing that interested him most, next to wood lore and outdoor life and -boating, was Gordon Lord. - -That loquacious Beaver, with his head stuffed full of a variety of -useful and semi-useful information, furnished him a source of never -ending amusement which had blossomed into a genuine attachment for the -younger boy. “Kid,” he would say, “the inside of your head reminds me of -a rummage sale or an old attic. Why don’t you get busy and clear it out -some rainy Saturday?” - -And Gordon would answer, “Because then I wouldn’t have anything to make -you laugh with when you get a grouch on. See?” And this, perhaps, may -afford a hint as to why the two had been drawn together. - -It now became the first duty of Harry Arnold to encounter his young -friend’s father and surmount, if might be, the difficulty of parental -objection to the proposed undertaking. This he could not do until -evening, but he knew enough to know that he was going to talk to a -business man and that it behooved him to _be prepared_. Of his own -father’s consent he had no doubt. - -Mr. Lord had a great admiration for Harry. His shrewd business habit of -keen observation had long since shown him that here was a boy who was -adventurous but not visionary. He admired the lad’s straightforward, -self-possessed way of talking. He had even been favorably impressed with -the moderate and discriminate use of slang which characterized his -conversation. - -“Just enough to make what he says pithy and vivid,” he told Gordon. “You -never hear him use senseless expressions or words that have no -meaning—I like to talk to him.” In short, he was well pleased with the -intimacy between the two boys, for he felt that Harry was an admirable -companion for his own impulsive son. - -Harry started at once for the city, where he procured from a sporting -outfitter just what he wanted and no more, which is not always an easy -thing to do. This was a government survey map of the Lake Champlain -country. If there had been time he might have gotten this from Uncle Sam -at the moderate price of five cents; as it was, it cost him a dollar. - -The afternoon he spent in his room alone, studying the map. Gordon’s -alluring picture of dropping in on the troop unexpectedly some fine day -did not divert him from a calm and thoughtful consideration of the -chances of success or failure. Of course, the idea of going up there and -searching them out by the application of wit, persistence, and resource -appealed strongly to his spirit of adventure. But he was not going to -allow himself to be too hopeful. He saw that if they started at -Ticonderoga and journeyed north in a direct line they would be, -generally speaking, on high ground, whence they could keep the lake in -view as well as the two miles, approximately, which would intervene -between themselves and the water. - -In other words, his plan would be to start at the foot of Lake Champlain -and follow the ridge of high land which ran parallel with the lake about -two miles west of it. He saw that here and there along the route were -high elevations whence they might obtain excellent surveys of the shore -line and the country between. A few days’ tramping and climbing would -enable them to pick out the camp if it were in open ground. But he -realized that it probably would not be in open ground. - -The only definite knowledge they would start with as to the troop’s -camping place was as follows: - -They were to start at Ticonderoga and press north. - -They were to camp on the New York side of the lake. - -They would remain in proximity to the lake. - -They would, probably, not go north of Port Henry, which was, roughly -speaking, fifteen miles above Ticonderoga. - -That left a tract of country fifteen miles long and from two to three -miles wide to be explored. The long sides of this rolling, wooded -rectangle were bounded respectively by the ridge and the long stretch of -lake shore. But the ridge was not continuous and well defined, and its -constant availability for outlook was, of course, not to be depended on. -Indeed, to the average eye the map would have shown no ridge at all. But -Harry picked it out, following the contour linings and altitude -notations, and saw it as if it were a grand stand. He knew enough of -woodcraft to know that a searcher must keep to the high ground, and he -did not make the mistake of supposing that the thing to do would be to -follow the shore. - -He took a lead pencil from his ear. It was the first weapon to be used -and he knew its value. Then and there, in the seclusion of his own room, -he began the search for the needle in the haystack. - -He knew that certain things could be eliminated by deduction and that it -was best to eliminate them before he tripped over them. He marked the -imaginary rectangle on his map. Then he studied it as if it were a -chess-board and he a player. He knew that the chances were strongest for -finding the troop encamped toward the southern end of his rectangle, -because when they found the sort of place they were after why should -they go farther? There was a river rising somewhere in Keeny Mountain -and making its way into the lake about three miles north of Ticonderoga. -Very likely they would not be north of that, for why should they not -camp along the first river they came to? They would probably not be -remote from a road. If they followed up the lake, they would cut in west -a little below the river because there was a swamp. If they did this, -they would buck right into the river on high ground about one mile in -from the lake. If conditions there were as he thought they were, that -would mark the general locality of their camp. For people, like rivers, -follow the path of least resistance. Harry judged what Dr. Brent would -do by considering what he would do. He let the rectangle stand as he had -marked it, but he interested himself most in its lower end. - -There was a ring at the door-bell. - -“If that’s Kid Lord,” he called out, never looking up from the map, -“tell him if he comes up here, he’s got to keep quiet.” - -But it was not Kid Lord, for Kid Lord was otherwise engaged. - -That evening, Harry rolled up his map and went up to the Lord house. Mr. -Lord was standing on the lawn watching the activities of a new revolving -sprinkler. - -“Hello, Harry, my boy,” said he, cordially. “Well, you and Gordon are a -couple of A-1 scouts, aren’t you? You made a great botch out of getting -off!” - -“I think we can find them, Mr. Lord,” said Harry, as they walked toward -the porch and seated themselves in two large wicker chairs. - -“I don’t know about that, Harry,” said Mr. Lord, seriously. “I’m afraid -it’s too much of an undertaking. Dr. Brent will manage to get word to -you boys, as I told Gordon—you needn’t be afraid of that. He’ll have -one of the boys arrange to meet you somewhere—the nearest -station—and—” - -“And they’ll all laugh at us.” - -“What do you care for that?” - -“Well, I don’t know that I do, sir, but it would be a lot of fun to find -them.” - -“That’s what Gordon says, but now just think a minute, my boy. You -propose to roam around through those woods, tramp up mountains, walk -through swamps for maybe two weeks or more, simply for the pleasure of -stealing quietly up to their tents some day and calling, ‘Peek-a-boo.’ I -don’t think the game’s worth the candle, now, do you?” - -“Yes, sir, I do.” - -“What’s that you’ve got?” - -“That’s a map I want to show you,” answered Harry, unrolling it and -spreading it on his knee; “I guess maybe Gordon has an idea that we’re -going into a country like the wilds of Africa, but it isn’t quite as bad -as that. Of course, there are wild tracts, but there are roads and -villages, and then there’s the lake to keep us from going too far -astray. I’m pretty sure we’ll find camp near the lake. Now, my idea is -to follow this ridge—” - -“What ridge?” - -“Why, right along here,” said Harry, pointing with his pencil. - -“You call that a ridge?” - -“Yes, sir; those are all mountains, and the high land is more or less -continuous. It’ll give us a bird’s-eye view.” - -“Now, let me tell you something, my boy. It’s easy to climb a mountain -on a map. But a few curlicue lines aren’t a mountain—no sirree—any -more than a bill of fare is a dinner. Now, take my advice and do the -comfortable, easy way. Stay right here till you get word from Dr. -Brent.” - -“It would be good sport,” protested Harry. - -“I know, but suppose you shouldn’t find them?” - -“Mr. Lord,” said Harry, “if I were working for you in your office and -you wanted me to do something, you wouldn’t ask me what would happen if -I failed to do it. You would expect me not to fail.” - -Mr. Lord gave the boy a quick, approving glance but said nothing, only -fell to examining the map. - -“Well,” said he, “let’s see how you mean to do.” - -“I mean to explore this tract, not every inch of it, of course, but by -signals, and so forth. I figure that we’ll find some trace of them along -the roads or in the wood trails. Also we can see a good deal of country -from these mountains, some of them especially.” - -“Suppose you tramped away up a mountain for a grandstand view and found -it covered with dense woods?” - -“I could climb a tree, but even that won’t be necessary. Do you know how -they made this map, Mr. Lord? They had men out surveying the country. On -the tops of some of these mountains there must be some old disused -government survey stations. Here’s a mountain called Bald Knob, so we -know right off there are no woods on it. Here’s Owl Pate—no woods on -Owl Pate, I guess. Now this is what I mean to do, sir. I’m going right -up that road from Ticonderoga, and if there hasn’t been any rain I can -pick out their tracks if they went that way. That’s a stretch of flat -country. If we haven’t spotted them by the time we get to Dibble -Mountain, we’ll go up and take a look and see what we see. We may send -up a Morse smoke signal and like enough that’ll fetch them. If it -doesn’t, then on for Crown Point. You see, there’s the village, and no -harm can come to us.” - -“You could wire me from Crown Point,” suggested Mr. Lord. - -“Yes, only we wouldn’t.” - -Mr. Lord laughed. “See, there’s a good high mountain, Harry; Bulwagga, -is it? Yes, Bulwagga.” He was getting quite into the spirit of the -thing, and Harry led him along with the lead pencil, which Mr. Lord’s -eyes followed as a needle follows a magnet. “Well, I hope you’ll find -them,” he concluded. “I guess you’re equal to it. I wish I were young -enough to go along.” - -Harry rolled up his map and went up to Gordon’s room. He found that -young gentleman in a rather despondent mood. - -“What’s the matter, Kid?” - -“My father won’t stand for it.” - -“Oh, I guess he will; I’ve just been talking to him.” - -“What’d he say?” - -“Said he wished he was young enough to go along with us. Come on now, -get a hustle. We start to-morrow morning.” - - - - - CHAPTER III - - A GOOD TURN AND A SALUTE - - -That evening Gordon was doomed to disappointment. From the moment that -he learned they might go, his active mind had been busy considering what -articles they must take, and most of those he thought necessary were -ruthlessly vetoed by his friend. He found that the first delight of the -novice in camping and exploring was heartlessly taken from him—the -delight of making preparations. There was, in fact, scarce any -preparation at all. They spent the evening in Harry’s room, which had -much the appearance of a frontier trading-post, so crowded was it with -camping paraphernalia and forest mementos. - -From these Harry collected a few things, some from the walls, some from -bureau drawers, some from a large chest. There was fishing tackle, a -practical jewel-set compass, a jack-knife which he carefully selected -from several others, a small belt ax, a flat metal trap, several snares, -a pair of mooseskin moccasins, a water-tight match box, the necessary -toilet articles, a small file, a small aluminum frying pan, a saucepan, -a tin cup, a small aluminum coffee pot into which he put two knives, two -forks, and two spoons, for Harry’s duffel bag, containing his personal -equipment for the trip, had gone on with the troop. - -“Now, let me see,” he said, standing beside the bed and contemplating -the things he had chosen, “you take this paper and write down what I -name—or wait a minute, while I think of it.” He disappeared, and -presently returned with a spool of strong thread and two needles stuck -into it. This he dropped into the tin cup, then dropped the tin cup into -the coffee pot. - -“Now write down what I tell you—these are all things we’ve got to get -in the morning. - -“Two tin plates. - -“Bacon. - -“Rice—do you like rice? Saccharine tablets. Raisins. Salt and pepper. -Egg powder. Got all that down?” - -“Yes.” - -“All right, the rest will come to me in my sleep. Now let’s see what -you’ve got in that fancy bag.” He turned the contents of Gordon’s duffel -bag out on the bed. “What in the world is this?” - -“That’s a suction pad, Harry.” - -“What’s it for?” - -“Keep you from falling off cliffs.” - -“We’ll cut out the suction pad. Here, eat these apples and get them out -of the way. Now, what’s this?” - -So he went through the pile of things, approving some, discarding -others, yielding here, insistent there, until, as he said, he had -reduced Gordon’s freight to a common denominator. - -The next morning they started, with a minimum amount of duffel for one -week’s supply, the load divided between them. There were crackers of the -iron-clad pilot variety; there was rice, which Harry said he could do -lots of things with; there were chocolate, cheese, figs, cereal, besides -the things Harry had enumerated the night before. Besides these, there -was “fly dope,” one or two household medicines, an antiseptic solution, -blankets, two empty cushion bags, and a good-sized piece of balloon silk -(weighing next to nothing) for shelter. - -Harry wore long khaki trousers laced down from the knee, and moccasins -of heavy mooseskin. From the belt up, however, he was rather a sailor -than a scout, for he had never been able to bring himself to abandon the -blue flannel shirt with its flap front and double row of pearl buttons. -He positively declined to wear any kind of coat. His belt was a thin -book-strap, and from this hung a small belt ax. Of course, he carried -his rifle. - -Gordon was a scout from head to foot. He would not have missed one -detail of the full regalia. He carried his part of the burden in his -duffel bag slung over his staff, on which he also ostentatiously hung -the trap and snares and to which was bound the fishing rod and tackle. - -“You want to do what I did, Harry,” said he on their way to the station. -“Rip the lining out of your hat and pull it on good and tight—the felt -catches your hair and it can’t blow off.” - -“Or pull off either when you’re crawling through brush. It’s a good -idea.” - -“That’s nothing,” said Gordon. “Look here.” He held his scout hat -forward, displaying inside the crown a little flap pocket filled with -matches. “See, you can splash through all the water you want, but -they’ll never get wet there, and you’ve got them right handy where you -want them to light in a breeze.” - -“Good for you,” said Harry. - -“That’s nothing,” said Gordon. - -But just then the train whistled and both boys sprinted down the hill. - -The ride to the city was not long, one or two trifling purchases at a -sporting goods store where Harry seemed to be well known took but a few -minutes, and before ten o’clock they were seated comfortably in the -Montreal Express, gliding up the east shore of the Hudson, just as the -Oakwood troop, minus these two boys, had gone the day before. - -It was Gordon’s custom always to get his good turn done early in the -day. He was not going to be caught at sundown with this duty staring him -in the face. Not that he confined himself to one good turn per day, for, -indeed, he acted on the approved theory that one good turn deserves -another. But the first good turn was a religious duty; it was essential -to his good standing, and when he undertook to become a scout he -understood this to be a regular daily obligation. He did not ask for any -credit or indulgence. He never let his good turn go over to be made up -the following day by two good turns. He rose in the morning, washed, -dressed, breakfasted, did his school work, then looked about for an -opportunity to do his good turn. - -So now he looked up and down the railroad carriage to see if any one -were in need of his kindly ministrations. After a minute, he rose and -walked up the aisle, where he stood on the outskirts of a little group -consisting of the train newsboy, the brakeman, an elderly lady, and two -little girls, evidently her grandchildren. The brakeman was trying to -open the window for the elderly lady. But the window would not open. The -brakeman, giving up the attempt, went up the aisle and out of the car, -and an elderly gentleman offered his services with the same result. The -lady was beginning to feel the embarrassment of being such a center of -interest. As Harry craned his head around he saw Gordon standing -modestly apart from the others, hat in hand. - -Presently, the latter came back to his seat and got his staff. - -“Did you think of a way?” asked Harry, laughing. - -“Can’t tell yet,” said Gordon, as he went back up the aisle. - -The car door opened and a sonorous voice called, “Poughkeepsie!” - -Gordon stepped in between the seats, placing the end of his staff under -the brass lift at the bottom of the sash. As the train slackened speed, -he pressed gently on his lever. Suddenly the movement of the train -became more abrupt, the cars shunted, there came the slight convulsive -movement he had been waiting for, the staff was pressed quickly down -just at the right second, the window creaked and rose. - -In a moment more he was seated by his friend, volubly explaining the -trick. - -“If she doesn’t come when the train stops, try again when it starts and -often that’ll fetch her. Only you’ve got to be careful to press just -exactly at the right second—the physical moment, I think they call it.” - -“That’s it,” said Arnold, and turned his face toward the window, -laughing. - -After they had left Albany there occurred another incident which, though -trifling at the time, was destined to be long remembered. They were -sitting comfortably back in their seats discussing their plan of -campaign, when a boy of about sixteen came through the car. He was -dressed in ordinary summer outing fashion save that he wore a scout hat, -and as he passed the two boys he raised his right hand to his forehead -and made the full salute to Harry. He was one of a long line of people -carrying bundles, suitcases, and so forth, who were passing through the -aisle, and it would have caused a slight interruption to the others had -he paused. Probably for this reason he went straight on through the car -and disappeared through the doorway. - -“He’s a scout, all right,” said Gordon. - -“Yes,” answered Harry, “but this is what puzzles me—how did he know I -am entitled to the full salute?” - -“From the badge on your hat, of course!” - -“Only my hat’s upside down on my knees. Guess again.” - -“Well,” said Gordon, “he knew you were a first-class man by your -seamanship badge.” - -“But how did he know I was patrol leader?” - -“Your flag?” - -“No—that’s gone on with the troop.” - -The only conclusion they could reach was that the strange boy was a -wonder. Every now and then they reverted to it, and one or the other -would suggest going back through the train to hunt him up and ask him -how he knew that Harry Arnold was patrol leader. But they invariably -settled back satisfied with the observation that the boy was a “winner” -until finally Gordon shouted: - -“He saw the badge wasn’t on your sleeve, Harry, so he knew it must be on -your hat—there you are!” - -“No,” said Harry, “he wouldn’t expect to see it on this flannel -shirt—he’d know it belonged on the khaki jacket.” - -“Well, he’s a Sherlock Holmes, all right,” concluded Gordon, and there -the matter rested for the time being. - -At four o’clock in the afternoon the train pulled into the old village -of Ticonderoga, which is at the head of Lake George and on the -crescent-shaped stream which connects it with Lake Champlain. The boys -realized now that it would have been better for them to arrive in the -morning, but that would have involved an all-night journey in the train. - -There was the inevitable cluster of summer boarders waiting at the -station, and the two boys created quite a little ruffle of interest and -curiosity as they stepped off the train. They made their way through the -group and up to the post-office, where Harry said he wanted to “buzz” -the postmaster for any knowledge he might have of the whereabouts of the -Oakwood troop. Gordon stood by in fear and trembling lest the official -might drop some hint which would simplify their quest and spoil the -whole fun of their expedition. - -It _had_ gotten around to the postmaster by a somewhat circuitous route -that a party of boys and one man had arrived in town the day before and -were not known to be staying at any of the houses, so they must have -gone somewhere. They couldn’t have stayed in town very long. “If they -had, we’d a knowed it,” said the postmaster. - -They inquired in the telegraph station as to whether a party of boys had -sent a message to Oakwood, N. J., the day before. None had. But the -telegraph operator’s sister had called in the doctor that morning, who -had told her that the livery stable man had gone into the hardware store -to buy a bit and had heard the hardware man say two “rigged-up fellers” -had bought a steel trap the night before. So, despite Gordon’s protest, -Harry interviewed the hardware man. The incident of the trap was true, -but that was all they could learn, and they sought no further -information. - -It lacked still an hour or two of sunset when they left the village and -found themselves on the open road which stretched northward. It -traversed a tract of fairly level country about two miles to the west of -the lake, and about the same distance to the west of the road rose the -mountains. Now and then they could catch a glimpse of the water whose -winding course they were following, and always to their left were the -hills, rolling one over another far to the westward and fading in color -as they receded, till they merged into the horizon. Here and there, amid -that multitudinous confusion, there arose some lofty peak touched with -the first crimson rays of sunset. Doubtless, there were pleasant -villages nestling here and there, and cheerful homes, but these the boys -could not see—only the innumerable hills, silent, wild, lonesome. It -seemed that they might reach to the farthest ends of the earth. To -Gordon the country did not look at all like the map, and it was hard to -believe that the print and paper really represented anything or could be -used to any purpose. - -“Well, here we are in the haystack,” said Harry, cheerily. “Now for the -needle—I don’t see it anywhere, do you?” - -“Harry,” Gordon answered, “I think we’ve got a job on our hands. Look at -those hills. They don’t look much as they do on the map—all -crisscrossed up with roads and villages and things.” - -“Especially, _things_,” said Harry. “You see, Kid, we’re between the -foothills and the lake. That ridge bends toward the lake and touches the -shore about five miles ahead—savvy? We’re cutting right up through the -middle of a great big wedge, as you might say, and Dibble Mountain is -the point. We’re headed right for it.” - -“The point isn’t sharp enough to cut you,” commented Gordon. - -“And when we get to Dibble Mountain, we’ll run upstairs and see what we -can see.” - -The sun was rapidly sinking, and as they followed the unfrequented road, -the gathering shadows, the increasing chilliness of the air, the absence -of any of the cheerful and familiar signs of human life, were not -without their quieting effect on Gordon’s buoyant spirit. He had heard -Dr. Brent say that this country was not the Adirondacks proper, that it -was not, in fact, a very wild country. But now, as he looked about him -at the far-reaching hills with their dense patches of woods, growing -somber and more forbidding in the twilight, it seemed to him that no -country could possibly be wilder and more impenetrable. Hills, hills, -nothing but hills; some rearing their rugged summits high above the rest -as if they cherished a kind of lofty scorn at being put on a map and -traced with a lead pencil. For the moment, his faith in human resource -and the facilities and possibilities of woods-wisdom was shaken in the -face of this great, enveloping, silent adversary. He even doubted -whether Black Wolf[1] himself (let alone Red Deer) could put up much of -a fight against such odds. - -Presently the road entered a patch of woodland where frogs croaked -despondently in a little marshy pond and crickets kept up their -incessant night songs. Then their way brought them into open country -again. Silently they tramped on. On their right the road skirted a -ravine which descended abruptly and whose bottom was lost in a black, -tangled thicket. And beyond, in the direction of the great lake, -extended woods till the twilight and the distance merged the tree-tops -into one vast dark coverlet. They paused a moment, peering over the -broken log fence into the depths. Somewhere in the stillness was the -sound of falling water. High above them in the dusk sped a great bird, -hastening toward the mountains. - -“It’s a pretty big haystack, hey, Kid?” said Harry, cheerily. - -“It certainly is,” answered Gordon. - ------ - -[1] Ernest Thompson Seton. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - THE HAYSTACK VS. GORDON LORD - - -A little farther on they came to a road branching off from the one they -were traveling, and Harry found on examining his map that it made a loop -of a couple of miles and reëntered the straighter road. - -“There must be houses along that road,” said Gordon. - -“Why?” - -“Else what would be the good of the road at all?” - -“Well, then,” said Harry, “what’s the use of this one, if you come to -that? There are no houses on it so far.” - -“Well, if they both lead to the same place, if the other one just forms -a loop, it must be to take in some houses, don’t you see?” - -“Maybe,” answered Harry. - -“And I believe it would be a good thing for me to go along there and see -what I can learn. We’ll meet at the other junction. The troop must have -gone along one or the other of these roads, unless they went in another -direction altogether. And if there are any houses along there, as there -_must_ be, why, somebody must have seen them pass.” - -“You seem to be more anxious for tips than you were,” said Harry. - -“No, only I think they may have started down that road and cut up into -the hills before it joins this one again. What’s the use in just -marching right past them?” - -The idea struck Harry as a good one; so it was agreed that he should -keep to the straight road while Gordon covered the loop. They had not -traveled to this point, where they were now to part for an hour or so, -without keeping a keen watch for any signs of the troop which the -roadside might reveal. But an afternoon shower had obliterated any -tracks, if such there were, and the road had yielded no hint of those -who had gone before. But Harry, still hopeful despite the gathering -dusk, now took his way alone, making careful scrutiny of the right-hand -border of the road for any intentional signs that might have been left, -although he had no reason to anticipate finding any. - -The two boys were to meet where the roads again came together, which was -at the foot of Dibble Mountain about two miles ahead, their plan being -to camp somewhere under the shadow of the mountain and to climb to the -summit in the morning for a bird’s-eye view of the surrounding country. - -The light was fast fading as Gordon left his companion and started along -the loop road. It was instinctive with him to keep his eyes wide open, -and his training as a scout, under Harry’s special tutelage, had -developed this trait until it was said of him by his friends, and -especially by Red Deer, that his habit of finding things, of picking up -pennies, collar buttons, and so forth, was little less than uncanny. His -pockets were a veritable junk shop of miscellaneous trifles, the -trophies and mementos of his pedestrian tours. - -Now, he had not gone a hundred yards along this road when something -caught his attention and he paused to examine it closely. It was nothing -more than an arrow, possibly three inches long, chalked upon a rock at -the roadside. As nearly as he could judge in the dusk, the color of the -chalk was pink, but the arrow pointed neither up nor down the road, but -across it toward the west. So he crossed the road, examining the -bordering trees and land, but could find nothing. He sat down on a rock -and thought. To the average boy a mark of this kind would have meant -nothing. To a scout it might mean many things. But, unlike most of the -scout signs, its meaning was not manifest. It was not the good road sign -nor the bad road sign, nor was it the sign that a message was secreted -near. Yet it pointed a direction; but the direction showed no path nor -trail and was fast wrapping itself in darkness. - -He rubbed his fingers over the arrow, making a powdery blur upon the -rock and causing his fingers to feel smooth and powdery as he rubbed -them together. - -“This hasn’t been here long,” said he. Then he pondered, for he knew the -rule that Dr. Brent was so fond of repeating. Use your brains first, -then your hands and feet. - -Gordon knew all the signs, Indian and otherwise, that scouts might -employ, but he had never seen a scout mark made with chalk before, and -it jarred upon his romantic sense to see this schoolroom material used -for purposes of woodcraft. Yet there was the arrow, pointing directly -across the road, apparently at nothing. He did not know what to make of -it. Perhaps it was only a tramp’s mark. Perhaps—perhaps—then, -suddenly, a thought came jumping into his head which gave him a thrill -of joy. Three nights ago, in the club room, Dr. Brent had sketched Lake -Champlain on the blackboard _in pink chalk_. That settled it. “I’ve -found them,” he shouted, which was very much like him, for he was apt in -his enthusiasms to anticipate his triumphs. - -Leaping across the road, he got down on his hands and knees, lighting -match after match, and searched the ground. Presently he noticed a log -spanning the little marshy gully at the side of the road. This he had -not seen before, for it was well hidden amid the weedy roadside growths. -Now he saw that several reeds which had inclined across the path of this -rough bridge had been broken, and hung limply over to one side. The log -ran into a floor of pine needles, where no sign of footprint showed. But -there were the arrow and the ford and the broken reeds, and these meant -that somebody had crossed—crossed and flown up in the air, for all that -he could discover. Nervous with expectation, he hurried about the grove, -felt of the trees, knelt and examined rocks, and avoided kicking the -smallest stone until he had observed its position in regard to other -stones. Stealthily, silently, alertly, he moved about. His scout -instinct was aroused. But he found nothing, and the long summer twilight -was now almost at an end. Peeling some bark from a tree and pulling off -a quantity of the sticky resiny substance from others, he hastily -kindled a small fire. In a few moments this blazed up, showing him an -illuminated area with a ground as smooth as a ballroom. There was not a -sign of track or trail. He paused a moment, thinking. Then he pulled up -his stocking, which was an indication that he meant business—a sort of -challenge. - -Thus, with all his spirit of adventure and scouting instinct, he stood, -baffled but thoughtful, in the vast, strange country, with his eyes -fixed on his little fire. For a moment he forgot Harry, forgot -everything but the pink arrow, the log ford, and the broken reeds, and -stood there, his brown eyes fixed on the dancing flame, his staff stuck -in the ground beside him and his duffel bag thrown over it. Presently, -he went back to the log, knelt down, and examined the end of it which -rested on the bed of pine needles. On the near side of the log was a -very slight oval depression in the ground in which the pine needles were -rotted, and where a little red lizard lay contentedly in the dampness. -On the side of the log nearest this depression several slugs crawled -distractedly about. Gordon reached his arm across the log and rolled it -back into the depression where it belonged. Then he sat down upon it and -thought. - -“Some one must have lost his balance in the middle of the log,” said he, -aloud, “and in falling pushed it out of place.” And that could not have -been long ago, for the slugs were still moving confusedly here and there -and had not yet found the under side of the log. Gordon examined the -muddy incline which led from the gully up into the grove. The dank, -reedy foliage did not seem to have been disturbed, but in the brighter -glow of his growing fire he presently noticed a well-defined, muddy -imprint upon a flat rock. If he had discovered a diamond he could not -have been more elated. - -Now he thought to himself that the person who had met with this trifling -accident was either not a scout at all or a scout in a great hurry. For -such a thing as a scout calmly falling off a log was preposterous, and -Gordon would not entertain the thought except on the theory of great -haste. But how had both patrols, sixteen boys, gotten through this grove -leaving never a sign? For the pink chalk identified the travelers as the -Oakwood troop. - -He gathered up a few pieces of bark and some leaves, and putting out his -fire made his way hastily up through the grove. Presently he stood at -its edge and looked across a spacious stretch of meadow land, beyond -which were the grim, dark hills. He kindled another fire on a huge, -convex piece of bark and, kneeling, crept along the edge of the grove, -endeavoring to discover where the trail came out. But he could find no -sign. It was now time to pull up his stocking again and take a long -“think,” as he called it. - -The result of his “think” was that he walked out into the field about -one hundred and fifty feet, placed his little portable fire on the -ground and enlarged it with a fresh supply of fuel from the grove. He -watched it till its volume satisfied him, then returning to the edge of -the grove he “shinnied” up a tree, but was careful not to embarrass his -vision by looking directly at the fire. He looked about halfway between -it and the grove and there, thrown into bold relief by the neighboring -fire and his own high position, there ran a little straight trail across -the meadow which died away short of the further side. He slid down from -the tree, planted his staff in the ground near his fire, and shook a few -burning twigs a yard or two from it. Then he carried his fire as best he -could, for its bark tray was now ignited, still farther across the -field, as far as the point where he thought the trail had become -invisible to him from the tree. Returning to the edge of the grove, he -climbed up the tree again. Sure enough, there was the trail visible -farther on in the glow of the second fire, and entering the thick woods -beyond the meadow. It was barely discernible at that point, yet Gordon, -from his high position and by concentrating his gaze, could determine -the faint, shadowy line, flickering between visibility and invisibility, -as it wound into the silent forest. When he took his eyes from it for a -moment, he lost it, and picked it out again with difficulty. - -The idea of following it was out of the question; so, looking steadily, -he picked out a certain tree near which the trail entered, studying as -best he could its height, size, and conformation. Climbing down from the -tree and keeping this beacon constantly in view, he ran across the -field, stamped out the few remaining embers of his first fire, took his -staff, and made a bee-line for his beacon. When he reached it he could -not, for the life of him, discover the faintest indication of the trail -across the field, but there, opening before him, was a well-defined, -beaten path up through the forest. He saw it in the glow from his second -fire, a few yards back, which was now dying fast. Leaning against the -big tree which had guided him across the meadow, he looked back over the -trailless space which he had forced to give up its secret. He looked at -the tall, black trees of the grove beyond, whose smooth floor of pine -needles had tried to baffle and confound him. Then he threw his duffel -bag over his shoulder, and feeling his way cautiously with his staff, -started up into the thick forest. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - THE FOREST HITS BACK - - -His whole thought now was to reach the camp and surprise the two patrols -and Red Deer. Feeling his way cautiously on and upward, for it was a -wooded hillside he was traversing, he managed to pick his way along the -winding forest path. Now he stumbled over naked roots, now some -overhanging or projecting bough impeded his progress. It was useless to -look for signs in such darkness; it was with difficulty that he kept to -the wild, thickly grown trail. Sometimes he paused, undecided as to its -direction, but always went on again, reassured by some trifling clue. -Now and then, a clear, unobstructed opening of a few yards convinced him -that he was in the path. At other times his only resource was to feel -about with hands and feet, determining as best he might the path of -least resistance and pressing through its tangled brush to find always -an opening farther on. It was difficult work. No one who had gone -before, no roadside code, could help him here. - -Once or twice he thought of going back and resuming his quest with Harry -in the morning, but he had gone so far that it seemed his easiest -course, however difficult and involved, to press forward. Moreover, he -was fast falling into the odd conceit of viewing the surrounding -country, which he had nonchalantly called a haystack, in the light of a -great adversary which had thrown down a challenge to him, and he must -perforce take up the challenge, else be a coward and a “quitter.” So far -he had held his own, and what a glory it would be to march into camp -having vanquished these silent, baffling hosts of wood and hill and -darkness. “Hello, Charlie,” he would say to the Beavers’ corporal, -“hurry up there and get me a bite to eat, will you?” His whole ambition -was now to walk carelessly into their midst and squat down by the -camp-fire with some cordial, offhand remark. - -From this train of thought, he was presently aroused by a sudden -vigorous strategic move on the part of his imagined foe. His staff, -which he had been bringing to the ground before him like a walking-stick -with each step, suddenly sank, touching nothing. He had the presence of -mind to drop it and throw both arms quickly behind him, which inclined -his body slightly backward and enabled him to retreat a step or two. - -Shaking from head to foot, he fumbled in the little flap pocket in his -hat crown and lit a match. It flared a second, then went out. But in the -sudden glare he saw that he was standing on the brink of a yawning -chasm. Still trembling from his narrow escape, he struck another light -and saw that one of his footprints was within eighteen inches of the -precipice and that the other had actually rested on the very edge, -displacing some of the earth, which had crumbled and fallen in. Gordon -had had his first lesson in the tactics which the wilderness can use. - -He lay flat with his head over the edge and looked down. Nothing but -darkness. So again he must use his faithful ally, the fire. Kindling a -fire was his great stunt. He would gather up a few dry, brittle twigs or -cones, scrape out a little punk, arrange them daintily, make a dome over -them with his hands, and presently show you a very ambitious little -blaze, as a magician will take a mysterious rabbit from a hat. “Do the -fire trick, Kid,” the boys of the troop would say to him. So now he -foraged about, accumulated the necessary materials, and presently had a -very respectable flame. But the glare about seemed only to make the -depths of the precipice darker. It had shown him, however, that the soil -displaced by his perilous step was not the only soil that had been -disturbed. Scarce two feet farther along the edge of the bank quite a -sizable piece of earth had caved in. But he could see nothing below. He -cut a straight stick about the size of an ordinary cane. This he -whittled with his jack-knife, cutting in from the end of the stick to a -depth of about eight inches, until the curly shavings formed a sort of -brush. Between these wooden bristles he wedged as much tree gum as he -could find on the adjacent trees, and lighting his torch, went -cautiously along the edge of the bank. - -This soon began to slope gradually until at a distance of about fifty -feet he was able to let himself down into the bed of the chasm. It was -filled with rocks and fallen trees and dank undergrowth, and yielded the -unwholesome odor of rotting wood. - -Gordon picked his way through the gully, holding his flaring torch here -and there until he was nearly under the spot where he had all but -fallen. Here were three logs, two of them lying flat upon the swampy -ground, the other leaning against the side of the precipice. He walked -along one of these to avoid the wet as much as possible and suddenly -came upon a hat, of the same general pattern as his own, lying in the -mud. He was just about to pick it up when he saw a few feet farther on a -ghastly object. A boy, his face smeared with blood and his leg in a very -unnatural position, lay stark before him. - -The sight, as it showed in the glare of Gordon’s torch, quite unnerved -him, and he stood for a moment on the other log staring at the figure -lying prone and motionless in the mud. He could not bring himself to go -nearer. Presently, more to relieve his own nervous tension than for any -other purpose, he called. But the figure neither stirred nor answered. -There was something about its position that frightened Gordon, and he -could not bring himself to go close enough to look at the boy’s eyes. -Then suddenly the words of General Sir Baden-Powell, which he had read, -came jumping into his head,—plain words, plainly stated, and for that -reason stamped in the boy’s memory: - - _A scout is sometimes timid about handling an insensible man or - a dead body, or of seeing blood. Well, he will never be much use - till he gets over such nonsense. The poor insensible fellow - can’t hurt him._ - -At this recollection the young scout conquered his hesitation, stamped -over through the mud to where the boy lay, and did the sensible thing, -as a scout should. He circled his hand lightly about the poor, limp -wrist and pressed slightly with his two middle fingers. As usual, with a -novice, he had the wrong spot, so he moved his fingers ever so little -and, sure enough, after a moment’s concentration, he became aware of the -little, steady throbbing which told him that at least the boy was alive. - -He thrust his now waning torch into the mud and thought. He knew that if -either of the boy’s limbs were broken he should not be moved unless -absolutely necessary and then only with such handling as he was not in a -position to give. He knew that if anything were the matter with the -boy’s spine, any save the most careful and skillful moving might prove -instantly fatal. But he also knew that no injured person should be left -lying there in the mud. - -Undoubtedly, the responsibility which had suddenly been thrust upon him, -the need of careful judgment, were out of proportion to Gordon’s -experience and years, and being of a light-headed, sanguine, and buoyant -temperament, the “First Aid” training and ambulance badge had not been -especially a part of his ambition. His scoutish triumphs, until now, had -all been more or less amusing and humorous, but here was a grave duty -resting on his young shoulders. And he met it, as a scout usually does, -willingly. - -First he crowded all the odds and ends of wood and rock that he could -find under the edge of the precipice, where the ground was higher and -drier. Then, tugging with all his might and main, he managed to get the -three logs over to this pile and rested their ends against it, so that -they lay parallel with each other at a slight incline. Then he pressed -down into the ground four sticks, one at the head and one at the foot of -each outer log, thus effectually preventing their spreading. The lower -end, or foot, of this inclined rack rested in the mud just above the -prostrate boy’s head. Across this lower end and under the logs, he laid -a stout stick whose ends rested just beside the stakes he had driven in -the ground. Now he hurried along the gully and up the bank to the spot -where he had left his bag. This he took and also such green boughs as he -could procure hastily in the dark, and collected some more gum. When he -returned it was necessary for him to re-whittle his torch and re-fill it -with this substance. - -Arranging the boughs upon the rack and making as smooth a bed as he -could in his great hurry, he spread his blanket over all. Then he -kindled a fire up under the precipice where the ground was dry. All of -his fuel had to be brought from above, and he carted down several loads -in his bag, having emptied it of its contents. After he had succeeded, -by much skillful persuasion, in inducing the little blaze to brace up -and try to amount to something in the world, he drove two sticks into -the ground, one on either side of the fire, and from one to the other of -these he strung a piece of snare wire. On the other side of the gully, -water was trickling down a rock, but how to entice it into his pail was -a question. He noticed on the ground, near the unconscious boy, a little -pamphlet. Without any very clear idea of its possible utility he picked -it up. On the cover were printed the words: - - THE BOY SCOUTS’ SCHEME - What It Is What It Is Not - -He knew the pamphlet well. Tearing the cover page off, he took his pail -and going over to the miniature waterfall he held the page, slanting -ways, tight against the rock with the other edge leading into his pail. -In a few moments the pail was half filled with fairly clean water. This -he hung from the snare wire above the flame. - -By the exercise of all his strength and with the greatest care, he -succeeded in pulling the prostrate form up the inclined rack, cutting -and pulling off the boy’s outer clothing as fast as it reached the foot -of the rack so that the blanket might be kept dry. It was a delicate and -difficult task, but he did it. When the limp, unconscious figure was on -the rack, Gordon lifted one side of the foot by means of the cross bar -underneath, laying the edge of this cross bar on a rock which he had -placed for the purpose. He did the same with the other side. Thus he had -succeeded in placing his charge on a couch well above the mud, dry and -comparatively comfortable. He took off his own khaki coat and laid it -over the boy. When his water had heated, he washed the boy’s face -carefully with his handkerchief. - -As the mud and blood disappeared, a white face with closed eyes was -revealed. Gordon started, then stared intently. It was the very boy who -had passed through the aisle in the railroad train and given Harry -Arnold the full salute. There was an ugly wound on one side of his -forehead. This, however, had ceased to bleed, and Gordon bathed it -carefully and bandaged it with his handkerchief. - -Here his resource failed him. He knew of nothing more that he could do -for the poor fellow’s comfort. It was quite too dark for smoke signals, -and the woods were too dense for an effectual message by fire. It -occurred to him to open the little scout bulletin, thinking that -possibly something might be written in it, some name, or troop or patrol -name, which might suggest some course better than merely waiting. He -held it close to the fire and ran it over. It was Bulletin No. 5, -containing among other things the required tests for tenderfoot, -first-class, and second-class scouts. These were listed numerically, and -as Gordon was very familiar with all of them they did not interest him -particularly. Having done all the second-class tests, he did not even -glance at these, but he did bestow a fond and covetous eye upon the -first-class list. The first test, beginning, “Swim fifty yards,” was -checked off. The second, requiring the sum of fifty cents in the savings -bank, was also checked. - -“He’s to the good on the financial side,” commented Gordon. The third -requirement (the signal test) was also checked. Not so the fourth. - - “4. Go on foot or row a boat alone to a point seven miles away - and return, or if conveyed by any vehicle or animal, go to a - distance of fifteen miles and back; and write a short report on - it. It is preferable that he should take two days over it.” - -“Go on foot, alone, to a point seven miles away and return,” said -Gordon, thoughtfully. “Ticonderoga must be about five miles from here. -But the fellow came up on the train. If he’s trying to make his test—. -Well, anyway, if he came from the village and was headed for a point -seven miles from the village, his camp must be only a mile or two -farther on.” - -Inspired by the thought, he added more fuel to his fire and printed -across the back of the pamphlet, with a charred stick, the words, _Gone -for help_. - -He stuck the pamphlet on a twig and placed it so that the boy, if he -opened his eyes, must see it in the light of the fire. Then, hurrying -along the gully, carrying nothing but his staff, he sought for a place -low enough or sloping enough for him to mount the farther side of the -hollow. Finally, clambering up through tangled brush, he reached the -brow and went cautiously along the edge to a point almost above where -his fire still burned and where the prostrate figure lay, stark and -white and motionless. He lighted a match to make sure that the path -recommenced here, and in its short glare he noticed something which made -him start. - -It was a new, clearly defined footprint, pointing in the same direction -that he himself was about to take. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE SIGN OF THE TURTLE - - -Gordon now found the path easier to follow, partly because it was better -defined and less obstructed by brush, and partly because the moon was -coming to his assistance. Its light flickered through the tree tops some -way before him over the summit of a hill which lay directly in his path. -Presently, the woods were all aglow with its checkered brightness. - -Keeping his eye ever to the right of the path for possible signs or -directions, he hurried on, running when the way permitted, through a -marshy hollow, and was just about to begin the climb of the hill before -him when his observant eye became riveted on a certain flat stone with -an oval wet spot in the center. If he had not been a scout he would not -have noticed this at all, and even the average scout would probably have -mistaken it for a footprint. But to Gordon, even in his haste, the -little wet trail which led from the oval spot to the edge of the stone -told another story. He knew a turtle had been basking here within a very -short time and had gone away. Why? Gordon asked himself as he hurried -on. For he knew from his trusty old friend, “Doc. Wood,” as he called -the famous writer of natural history, that when a turtle seeks a high -and dry position in the evening he does not contemplate moving out at -short notice. So Gordon put the footprint and the fact of the turtle’s -sudden departure together and became very curious. If some one had -preceded him along this path, why were there not more footprints? And -why had the some one deliberately left the injured boy to his fate? Then -suddenly another thought came to him which made him shudder, but he had -no time to think, and hurried on. - -The woods became more sparse now, and presently a road crossed the boy’s -path. Beyond it the hill continued to rise gently, with only a few -scattered trees here and there. The moon was now well clear of the -summit, and smiling down encouragingly upon the sturdy, indomitable -little fellow as he paused, gave his stocking a vigorous hitch, and -started to run up to the summit. If a view from that favorable position -revealed nothing, then he would have to consider whether it would be -wiser to attempt to pick up the trail down the opposite slope and thus -find the proper entrance into the woods beyond, or give up and go back -to the stricken boy. For he knew he must not let his quest for succor -run too far, and that a scout must always think and use his judgment. - -Excitedly, nervously, he mounted the bare summit of the hill, finding -never a footprint to encourage him, nor a familiar scout sign. For a -second he stood there, seeming very small in that limitless expanse, -gazing about in the moonlight. He looked down the hill, concentrated his -gaze, and tried to pick out some sign of trail. But the hubbly, -coarse-grown hillside kept its secret, if it had any, and Gordon knelt -down in quest of some hint, some clue, near at hand. He rose, -bewildered, uncertain, almost discouraged. His uniform was covered with -burrs and torn by the brambly thickets he had crawled through. - -But the first round of his encounter with this rugged enemy was over, as -he was presently to know. And Master Gordon Lord, scout of the second -class, Beaver Patrol, 1st Oakwood Troop, was the victor. For out of the -woods which began under the further slope of the hill and extended far -into the distance, there rose about a quarter of a mile away, little, -fitful, fast-dissolving gusts of smoke. - -A few moments later he stood at the foot of the hill looking anxiously -through the thick forest where only flickering glints of the moonlight -penetrated. But no moonlight was needed now, for he could distinguish -several squares of white, half hidden among the trees, and rendered -visible by the cheerful blaze of a camp-fire. - -“I’m certainly a dandy!” said Gordon, with unconcealed pride, as he -started through the woods, running with all his might and main. - -No one heard the remark unless it was the man in the moon, who looked -down with a broad smile on his face and seemed to wink his eye as if to -say, “You certainly are, my boy.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - WHEN SCOUT MEETS SCOUT - - -The camp consisted of three wall tents, a small tent of modified tepee -fashion, and a lean-to used for cooking, outside of which was erected a -huge, rough dining board. The whole appearance of the place was very -homelike. Woods trophies and articles of woodcraft handiwork hung about -from the low-spreading branches, and it was evident that the campers had -been there for some time. - -Before each of the wall tents was planted a patrol flag, and gathered -about the cheerful fire was as merry a company as Gordon had ever seen. -A genial-looking man of perhaps thirty-five years was sitting amongst a -score or so of boys, who in negligée scout attire squatted and lolled -about him, as if intent upon what he was saying. - -All this Gordon saw from a distance. But before he had approached within -fifty yards of the camp, and before he could possibly have been seen and -scarcely heard, a tall boy rose suddenly, looked intently in his -direction, and called: - -“Who’s there?” - -“Gee, _he’s_ a peach, all right!” breathed Gordon, never answering, but -rushing pell-mell into their midst. Every boy rose, surveying him -wonderingly. The man remained seated. Gordon paid not the slightest heed -to the gaping throng, but made a bee-line for the man and, standing -panting and disheveled before him, made him the full salute. Then, -breathlessly, he gasped out his errand. Instantly all was activity. - -“Call in Billy,” said the man, quietly, as he took a railroad lantern -from a tent pole. “You, my boy,” he went on to Gordon, “will stay here. -Who are you, anyway?” - -“Kid—I mean, Gordon Lord, sir; 1st Oakwood New Jersey, Troop. My patrol -leader and I came up to see if we could find camp—our own camp, I mean. -They’re somewhere up this way. I—” - -“Well, you can tell me the rest when we get back,” said the man, -cheerfully. “Where’s Billy, anyway? Give him another call, George.” - -A succession of shrill whistles was repeated, and presently a boy -wearing spectacles came dashing into camp. - -“Get your kit, Billy, and come along,” said the man. “Walter’s gone down -that chasm in the farther woods—head cut and leg in a bad way. Here, -Wentworth, you and Norton get the stretcher and come along—you’d better -come too, Charlie.” - -“Sure you can find the place?” asked Gordon, a little doubtful. - -“Oh, _yes_,” answered the man. “We put up the logs. Is Cattell there? -Here, Cattell, you rake up some grub for this boy. Go over there, my -boy, and let the Ravens take care of you.” - -The Ravens knew how to do more than croak, as Gordon presently found, -for they sat him at the rustic table and gave him such a helping of -hunters’ stew as would have sufficed for the entire patrol. He entered -upon the ambitious task of eating it with the same nonchalant -determination that had led him into the woods, without the slightest -idea of the magnitude of the task before him, but with cheerful -confidence in his ability to see it through somehow. - -While he ate, the boys gathered about him, plying him with questions, -and soon had the full story of his trip and the circumstances of his -finding the injured boy. He learned that they were a troop of Albany -scouts, three full patrols, that the man was Mr. Wade, their -scoutmaster, and that Billy, or “Four Eyes,” or “Doc,” as he was -indifferently called, was their “First Aid” boy, who had attained to a -superlative proficiency in that art. He learned also that Walter, the -injured boy, was, as he had surmised, trying to complete his fourth test -for first-class scout, on his way back from a visit to the city. - -“They have pink chalk in Albany,” said Gordon, “haven’t they?” - -“Sure they have,” answered several boys. - -“We have that in Oakwood, too,” Gordon commented. - -Presently, a tall, serious-looking boy vaulted up on the table and began -to question Gordon while he ate. - -“You say you saw a footprint just as you left the chasm on this side?” - -“Yes.” - -“Did you see any more of them?” - -“No, it was too dark in the woods. In a few minutes when the moon came -out and the woods thinned out the other side of the hill I saw a wet -spot on a stone.” - -“Footprint?” - -“No—place where a turtle had been.” - -“Well, what of that?” - -“Turtle went away.” - -“What of it?” - -“Somebody must have passed.” - -“Bully for you!” chimed in several voices. - -“That’s nothing,” said Gordon, encouraged. “Do you know how—” - -“Just a minute,” interrupted the serious-looking boy. “After you saw the -turtle mark, didn’t you see any other sign?” - -“No,” answered Gordon. “I was so crazy to get here that I didn’t look.” - -“Yes, of course,” agreed the boy. “You say you saw the wet spot near the -swamp, then you started up the hill crossing the road?” - -“Yes.” - -“Have some more stew?” - -“Y-es.” - -“Here, Cattell, fill her up again! He’s game.” Then to Gordon, “Did you -find any trail up the hill?” - -“No—didn’t look. If I hadn’t spotted you fellows from the top of the -hill, I’d have gone back down again, most likely, and tried to pick her -up, bird’s-eye.” - -“You mean with the fire, the way you did before?” - -“Yes.” - -A murmur of admiring comment passed through the group, and one or two -enthusiastic boys pounded Gordon on the shoulder. But the -serious-looking boy was absorbed in thought. - -“Whoever it was,” he finally said, “must have turned down the road—or -up.” - -“Sure,” said Gordon. - -It was characteristic of him that the suspicion of foul play had sat but -lightly in his thoughts up to this moment. The footprint near the chasm -had puzzled him and he had attached a significance to the wet spot on -the rock—perhaps a greater significance than it deserved. He had also -wondered how the three slender logs, out of which he had fashioned the -rough couch, came to be at the bottom of the chasm. But he was -altogether too lighthearted to connect any or all of these circumstances -with the idea of a crime. With him, tracking and such arts were a -delightful species of amusement, and the idea of using these things as a -means to a serious end had never entered his head. - -But now he realized that this serious, precise, calculating boy who sat -at his elbow was endeavoring to squeeze information out of these trivial -signs and make them point to the solution of a secret, the very -existence of which Gordon had hardly suspected. He perceived, somewhat -to his annoyance, that he had only noticed those things which appealed -to his romantic love of woodcraft, and that certain other things which -Harry Arnold might have seen had entirely escaped him. - -“You say the pamphlet was lying in the mud?” - -“Yes—it—it never occurred to me how it got there.” - -“Of course not—you were in a great hurry. Don’t think I’m criticising -you. You’ve got the silver cross coming to you for what you did.” - -“Honest—do you think so?” - -“It would be a queer committee that would refuse it.” - -“Cracky!” said Gordon. - -“Have another dish of stew?” - -“N-no.” - -“Now listen. There were no tracks, prints, signs of any kind in the -chasm?” - -“No, the mud was so thick it would close right up. Besides—” - -“Yes, I understand; you were busy and excited, and you did fine. But -I’ll tell you something that you didn’t know. That boy had forty dollars -with him to buy a canoe. At least, I suppose he had it. He intended to -get it while he was at home.” - -“You think somebody robbed him?” said Gordon. - -“I think it’s likely. There were two young men here, strangers, just -dropped in on us a few days ago. Walter and the rest of us talked pretty -freely about his trip to Albany.” - -“Yes, and he said he was going to get the money,” chimed in another boy. - -“He expected to come back last night, too,” said another. - -“Who were the strangers?” Gordon ventured. - -“No idea,” answered one of the boys, “except that they said they were -hunting. They were country fellows,” he added quickly. - -Most of the boys, including Gordon, had now repaired to the camp-fire, -which was blazing cheerfully. There was a slight constraint among them, -caused by their suspense and uncertainty as to the news Mr. Wade would -bring them; and Gordon, despite his native buoyancy, felt the influence -of this atmosphere. - -Presently, the tall, serious boy (the others called him Al), who had -been pacing back and forth like an animal in its cage, suddenly paused -and spoke to Gordon. The question that he asked, however, was destined -to lead him on to very dangerous ground, as he soon found. - -“Where did you say your friend is now?” - -“He kept to the straight road north from Ticonderoga,” Gordon answered. -“He was to wait for me where the road I took joined his again—right -under Dibble Mountain.” - -“Now this road you crossed coming up the hill yonder—do you know where -that goes? Well, if you had taken it and turned to your right, you would -have made a long, sweeping curve and brought up under Dibble Mountain on -the same road where your friend is waiting, about a quarter of a mile -above him.” - -“Then that’ll be the best way for me to get to him,” commented Gordon. -“I must start along as soon as your scoutmaster gets back. He’ll be -wondering what’s become of me.” - -“How long do you suppose he’s been waiting?” - -“Close on to an hour, I guess, but he knew I was going to stop to make -inquiries.” - -“Then you think he’s still there?” - -“Guess so.” - -“Don’t think he’ll get rattled because you haven’t shown up?” - -“He never gets rattled,” said Gordon, contemptuously. - -The boys smiled. - -“He understands the Morse code—probably?” - -To this question Gordon disdained to reply except in a very general way. -“He understands everything,” said he. - -“Bully for him!” called several of the boys. - -“He’s the real thing, all right,” commented another. - -Gordon was conscious of the suggestion of “jollying” in these remarks, -and his answer was not altogether tactful; but he had been touched in a -sensitive spot, for he could tolerate no question as to Harry’s -all-round proficiency. - -“He can do anything he tries,” he said vehemently. “He’s been down Long -Island Sound in a canoe; he lived in a lumber camp—he was lost in the -Canadian woods once—he knows all about South Africa—he swam three -hundred miles, I mean yards—and shot the rapids—and—and—he can make -a rice pudding!” That was the best he could do for Harry on the impulse -of the moment, and he paused to take breath. - -“Did he use his rifle when he shot the rapids?” asked one boy, quietly. - -“He’s been on a log jam, too,” shouted Gordon. - -“That anything like currant jam?” inquired another. - -“He can lick any scout in—” - -“Let up,” said Al, still pacing the ground thoughtfully, and the whole -thing went up in a general laugh. It was Gordon’s fate always to be -jollied, which meant (if he had only known it) that everybody, -especially older boys, liked him. And on the present occasion it was -done largely to relieve the suspense of waiting. - -Suddenly, however, Al paused and addressed the group: “Scouts, I suspect -Walter has been robbed—by whom I don’t know. I shouldn’t like to say -that I suspect any one in particular, but it looks funny. If the things -our friend here noticed mean anything, they mean that whoever tampered -with the bridge and then went through Walter’s pockets after he fell, -came in this direction till he reached the road on the other side of the -hill. If there had been any trail over the hill, I think our young -friend here would have found it. Now, if somebody turned into the road -and went north, he’s making a long circuit to Dibble Mountain. There’s -no crossroad, and he’ll come out on the road where this fellow’s -friend—” - -“He’s patrol leader of the Beavers,” said Gordon. - -“Yes,—where the Beavers’ patrol leader is supposed to be waiting.” - -“Well?” said several voices. - -“Well, you see that hill? I propose to send a Morse message to that -fellow from the top of the hill. I think if he’s still where we think he -is, he could see it; even if he was farther along the road, he could see -it. There’s just about one chance in fifty that the scheme will pan out -right. But I propose right now to flash a Morse message northeast from -the hill. The top of the hill is bare. If this Oakwood scout is anywhere -along that farther road, he ought to see it. Whether we can make our -meaning clear is another question. If he sees it and understands -it—well, here, wait a minute.” He entered a tent and presently came out -with a paper on which he had written something. This he read aloud. - -“Camp here. Take first road north. Notice strangers. Scout robbed. Am -safe. Lord.” - -“How does that strike you?” said he, as a dozen boys crowded eagerly -about him. - -Gordon was all excitement. He had used the Morse code as a plaything -many a time, but now it was to flash a message through the night, over -wood and valley, perhaps to outwit a criminal. It was to sweep aside -darkness and distance, and take a short cut to the country under Dibble -Mountain. If Harry was still there and saw it and read it, he would go a -quarter of a mile or so along the road, to where it met the circling -road from the hill, and watch any one who might pass. He thought of the -boy at the other end, waiting in the darkness of a strange country. And -his heart beat with anxiety lest, for some reason, the plan might not -carry. Perhaps he doubted a little the reliability of the Morse code. -Never for an instant, at least not yet, did he doubt the efficiency of -Harry Arnold. - -There was a rustling among the trees, and presently the little group of -rescuers appeared bearing the stricken scout on a stretcher. - -“Come inside a minute, Al,” said Mr. Wade, in a low, grave voice. “You -come in, too, my boy,” he said to Gordon. - -There was something in his tone that almost frightened Gordon, and he -had difficulty in controlling himself as he followed Al into one of the -tents. There was no one there but Mr. Wade, the “First Aid” boy, Al, and -Gordon. - -“Walter’s been robbed, Al,” said the scoutmaster. “He was thrown down -the cliff—the bridge was fixed. He’ll get well. I want Winthrop to go -right to Ticonderoga.” - -“I’m going to flash a Morse message from the hill, sir,” said Al. “This -boy’s patrol leader is over east there somewhere. There’s a possibility -that he might get it and watch the road.” - -“That’s right,” said Mr. Wade. “Good idea.” - -It seemed to Gordon, however, that he did not have much faith in this. -Al did not pause to discuss the matter, but left the tent. Presently, he -and a dozen other boys started through the woods in the direction of the -hill. - -Gordon stood, rather uncomfortably, near the entrance to the tent, not -knowing what he was supposed to do. - -“Did you have something to eat?” Mr. Wade asked. - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, go over there a second, then; don’t stand and talk to him, and I -want you to go right out.” - -Gordon crossed to the stretcher where the “First Aid” boy was adjusting -a bandage on Walter’s forehead. Mr. Wade stood quietly by. The “First -Aid” boy leaned over and whispered to the stricken scout, “Here he is.” - -Gordon stood looking down into the white face. Presently, he was aware -of a movement under the blanket. The “First Aid” boy evidently knew what -it meant, for he raised the covering slightly and a white, shaking hand -appeared from beneath. The twitching fingers seemed to grope for a -moment, then the little finger was bent down and the thumb pressed over -it. The hand was raised feebly to the shoulder, resting on the pillow. -Then Gordon became conscious of a film over his own eyes and everything -seemed to glisten. He pressed his own little finger down with his thumb -and raised his three middle fingers level with his shoulder. Then the -eyes of the prostrate boy weakly closed. Neither spoke. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE MESSAGE OF THE FLAME - - -Gordon made a bee-line through the woods in the direction of the hill, -and presently overtook several of the boys, one of whom carried a -lantern. When they reached the brow of the eminence, they found that -preparations, under Al’s direction, were rapidly going forward. - -A lone sapling stood on the summit, and about ten feet from this they -had planted a pole eight or nine feet high, steadying it by lines -running diagonally to the ground and attached to pegs. From the top of -this pole to a branch equally high on the sapling ran a stout line on -which had been placed two metal rings (evidently all that were -available), and some of the boys were now busily binding willow withes -around the line, so that presently the rope had half a dozen rings of -one sort or another encircling it. The moon had gone behind clouds which -were fast covering the sky, and the boys worked almost wholly by the -light of their lantern. But they worked rapidly, and within a few -minutes a large square of tent canvas had been hung from the line, thus -forming a curtain which could be shifted back and forth. Its position, -facing a little north of east, was determined by the compass, and was, -of course, accurate so far as compass points were concerned. But whether -Harry Arnold was precisely northeast, or precisely east, and just how -far and in just what direction, there was no telling. - -Gordon looked down from the hill, over the low-lying woods which -stretched eastward, a little north of where he had found his way -through. He thought he could discern a shadowy mass which seemed to -appear and then dissolve in the distance, and which he took to be Dibble -Mountain. And beneath him he saw a faint gray band which he knew to be -the road. This, he now knew, inscribed a great curve through the woods -and came out about a quarter of a mile above his intended meeting-place -with Arnold. He meant, as soon as this signaling was finished, to set -forth along the road toward Dibble Mountain. - -As he watched the rapid and rather elaborate preparations, he became -conscious of a feeling of responsibility and accompanying apprehension -that he might be held accountable in some degree if the signal failed to -bear results. So troubled was he that he did not at once notice the boy -who was kneeling behind the canvas and littering the ground about him -with burned matches. - -“Will you let me try it?” said Gordon, finally, coming out of his -absorption. - -“Sure,” answered the boy, rising with alacrity. - -Gathering a number of chips which had been scattered by the ax in -trimming the pole, Gordon knelt, crunched a piece of paper into a -little, loose wad, and quickly, daintily constructed a tiny pyramid -around and above it. Over this pyramid he made a larger one, keeping by -the necessary fuel for one still larger. The process reminded one of the -wooden egg enclosed by a larger one, and that by a still larger one, -often seen at Easter time. - -Now his small hands formed a partial dome over the outer pyramid; now -there came a crackling and a little smoke, now the third pyramid was -quickly built over the second, and Gordon watched it intently while a -few little snakes of flame squirmed out from their inner cage. He paid -no heed to the admiring comments of the boys about him. Like a true -artist, his mind was fixed upon his task, not upon his audience. Now his -hand groped behind him for some larger twigs. One or two he threw away -(the boys did not know why). With those which met his approval still -another pyramid was formed to receive the flames which were now escaping -freely from the third pyramid. For a moment he studied the little mass -intently, holding several sticks in his left hand. The thought came over -him that presently his fire would flash the first sign in a message to -his friend, somewhere beyond those thick woods, waiting, or perhaps -searching, in the darkness. And oh, how he hoped the fire would be seen, -but scarcely dared to hope it would be understood. - -Presently, satisfied, he rose, and pulling an apple from his pocket -refreshed himself with a gigantic bite. - -“You’re all right,” said the tall Al, slapping him on the shoulder. -Gordon smiled his broadest scout smile, with unconcealed pleasure at the -older boy’s praise. He was the smallest boy in the group, and there was -something about him which drew the others irresistibly to him. - -“You’re a wonder!” shouted one, with genuine enthusiasm. - -“That’s nothing,” said Gordon, as he took another huge bite. I do not -know where he got the apple. - -The fire was now coming on famously. “Pull her over,” called a boy, -grabbing the curtain. “Never mind the regular call signal—let’s begin -and run her across the flame quick for four or five minutes—that’ll do -to attract attention.” - -This advice was taken, for all the nice points and rules of the Morse -signal code cannot be observed with a bonfire on a hilltop. They pulled -the curtain rapidly from side to side, alternately revealing and -concealing the blaze, and skillfully relieving each other from time to -time, for it required some strength and a good deal of agility. - -As Gordon stood watching them, he was roused by a light hand on his -shoulder and turned to find Mr. Wade standing by his side. - -“You mustn’t expect too much of your friend,” he said in a kind of -reassuring tone. “It’s possible he’ll see this, but there’s many a slip, -you know, betwixt the cup and the lip. Anyway, it won’t be his fault.” - -“He can do ’most anything, sir,” said Gordon, earnestly. “Honest, he -can. If he only sees it he’ll—” - -“Yes, of course,” said Mr. Wade; “and this is good practice for the -boys, anyway.” - -“But I’m going to start along toward Dibble Mountain just as soon as -they get through this. He must have been waiting a couple of hours -already.” - -“Better stay with us till morning,” said Mr. Wade; “you’ve done enough -for one night.” - -Just then Al came up to ask about Walter Lee, the injured boy. - -“He’s doing well,” said the scoutmaster. “The wound isn’t deep, and -seems to be clean, thanks to our young runner here. It bled a good deal, -though, and his ankle is strained. The bridge was tampered with, and he -must have gone down as soon as he set foot on it. I was wondering who -those fellows were who dropped in on us the other day. Walter’s pockets -were empty; he says he had forty dollars. I’ve sent Winthrop and John -down to Ti to notify the authorities and get a doctor. I guess they can -pick their way there all right; I told them not to try any Gordon Lord -short-cuts. Walter’ll be all right. Here, Frank,” he called, “let Al -stand near you with the message in code form. Let’s see that. That’s all -right. Now, just call the code signs and cross them off as they’re -shown—something may come of this yet.” - -He started for the camp again, and it seemed to Gordon that he took but -secondary interest in the signaling. He did not know whether to be glad -or sorry for this skepticism. He felt that if the plan failed to carry, -as he feared it would, it would be well to have the head of the camp -there to acquit Harry of any blame. Gordon did not give a serious -thought to the impression he might have made in this strange camp; but -he was very jealous for Harry’s reputation, especially after the puff he -had given it, and he wanted more than he could tell to have his friend -do the improbable and make good. He had an unselfish and unqualified -admiration for Harry, and he was sorely troubled now lest his hero fail -in the face of these Albany scouts. - -The first letter of the message had been stamped upon the darkness when -Gordon came out of his preoccupation, and he watched the rest of the -work with keen and nervous interest. - -“Haul her over, Bill—now back again—cross off your dot, Al—wait a -second now—let her go again—that’s the ticket. Hold on now—three -seconds—there you are. Now show her for two even spaces; now -wait—three seconds—don’t be in too much of a hurry; he’ll wait if he -sees it. Let her go again—quick now—do this one careful. Read her off, -Al, wake up—short flash—wait—long flash—wait, wait! Another long -flash now—wait—now a short one. There you are, fellows, printed right -plank against the side of old Dibble Mountain, C-A-M-P! Hurrah for the -Raven signal corps!” - -All this involved a good deal of exercise on the part of several boys, -but nothing happened as a result. Gordon did not exactly expect anything -to happen, but it seemed like a good deal of energy wasted. - -On the hilltop all was bustle and excitement, but the dark woods below -and beyond, and the open lowland stretching farther still to the shore -of the great lake, took not the slightest notice. Gordon looked over -Al’s shoulder at the message. They had not done one-tenth of it. He -wondered how the flashes would look from a distance and thought how much -concentration of mind it would require to make head or tail of it. -Though he was a scout of the scouts, he found that he had to strain his -faith a little to believe that anything could really come of this. And -he was conscious of almost a feeling of regret that he had given quite -such a glowing account of Harry. - -A fresh relay of boys had started the second word. - -“Wake up, Al—spin her off!” - -“Four short flashes,” said Al. - -“Four it is; here she goes—over and back—over and back—wait!” - -“One short,” called Al. - -“That’s E—now for the next.” - -“Short, long, short,” called Al. - -“Pull her over, Ed—now back—now a long one—shut her off! Now a short -one. Next letter, Al.” - -“Short flash.” - -“Correct for Albert. Over and back—seat your partner!” - -“Camp here!” shouted a boy, enthusiastically. - -Thus the work went cheerfully on. It required precision, exertion. It -was close to half an hour when they reached the end. - -“How do you spell your name?” said Al; “G-o-r-d-o-n?” - -“Put it ‘Kid,’” Gordon answered; “that’s shorter and it’s what he always -calls me.” - -A sudden inspiration seized Al. “Here,” he said; “come and sign your own -name.” - -Gordon hesitated, then went forward. The boys, catching the spirit of -the thing, fell back, while Al himself took the other end of the -curtain. Gordon hauled the canvas over, revealing the flame long enough -to indicate the dash. Then came the short flash, then the dash again. He -almost heard Harry’s quick, low voice, saying, “Hello, Kid,” as he -paused before the middle letter. - -“Forward and back,” called a boy. - -Gordon’s scout smile broadened into its wonted crescent as his small -hands worked the two short flashes. - -“Hurrah for the Oakwoods!” several fellows shouted, and Gordon smiled -still more broadly, as he always did when encouraged or jollied or -praised. - -“Dash and two dots,” said Al. - -And the name that Harry Arnold always called him had been flashed forth -over woods and valley and meadow, toward the now invisible Dibble -Mountain and Lake Champlain. - -That night the Ravens, of whom Al Wilson was patrol leader, doubled up -with the Elephants. The Elephant patrol consisted of smaller boys and -was sometimes facetiously called the infant class. The whole six of them -were tenderfeet with a vengeance, and Mr. Wade usually slept in their -tent. This night, however, he shooed the Ravens into the Elephants’ -quarters so that Walter Lee, himself, and the “First Aid” boy might have -a tent to themselves. But some of the Ravens roosted out under the -trees. - -The Elephant patrol was a great institution, and their leader, Frankie -Haines, was fully aware of this fact. He attended all the officers’ -meetings in the tepee, and on one memorable occasion had sat on a troop -committee. The Elephants’ flag was flauntingly displayed outside their -stronghold; they took a mighty pride in their name and were very -clannish, and hung much together. They were all very punctilious about -their uniforms. Indeed, they furnished so much wholesome entertainment -to the third patrol that the boys of that division had found it -impossible to limit their smiles to the requirements of Section 8, Scout -Law, and were known as the Laughing Hyenas. - -It was with the Hyenas that Gordon was to spend the rest of the night. -It was with difficulty that he had been persuaded to give up his -intention of going in search of Harry; but Mr. Wade realized that he -stood in need of rest. To save Harry Arnold from anxiety, however, he -offered to send two of the camp boys to the meeting place at Dibble -Mountain. So Cattell and another boy had started north along the road, -it being agreed that if they found no trace of Harry near the junction -of the two roads they should return to camp early in the morning. - -If the Laughing Hyenas had been cast to sleep with the Elephants, there -is no telling what might have happened. But the Elephants and the Ravens -got along very well considering, and it was as good as a circus to see -the older boys coming in, one by one, and making the full salute to -Frankie. - -The Elephants had looked upon Gordon as in some measure their especial -property, and felt that his glory was their glory, for he was younger -than any of the camp boys save themselves, and small for his age. It -would have pleased them to extend the hospitality of their tent to the -honored guest and strut a little in consequence, but Mr. Wade’s order -was not to be questioned. - -Gordon lay among the Hyenas, who had given him a rousing welcome to -their tent, and listened to their talk about the accident at the chasm -and the sending of the Morse message. One by one, voices dropped out of -the discussion as their owners fell asleep, until only three talked on -in the darkness. - -“He’s all right,” said one, “and a mighty clever little fellow. He seems -to have an idea that his chum is just as smart as he is himself.” - -“He thinks the world of his patrol leader, all right,” said another. “I -don’t suppose there’s one chance in a thousand of that fellow’s catching -the message.” - -“Oh, he might have seen the fire,” put in another, “but whether he could -follow it is another question. It was pretty long for a fire message.” - -“Yes, and even if he got the sense of it, he’d be a wonder if he did -anything.” - -“What could he do, anyway?” - -“He can make a rice pudding.” - -“Sure he can!” - -“Well, it was good sport sending the message, anyway, but jiminy, my arm -is stiff!” - -“Silence there between decks!” called a new voice. - -“Ralph, the bos’n, as I live! Thought you were asleep, Ralph.” - -“I bet Al Wilson could have caught those flashes and spelled them out, -all right.” - -“You bet he could.” - -Presently the voices ceased altogether, and Gordon lay in his corner -near the wall of the tent, thinking over all that had happened since he -parted from Harry. He had made a great hit with this Albany troop, -greater than he supposed, but his mind was by no means at ease. He -thought of his chum waiting or searching for him with no clue to his -whereabouts, and of how Harry must spread his balloon silk shelter and -lie down alone, perplexed and anxious about himself. And here was he, -resting on a springy cot after a goodly supper of hunters’ stew. And he -had allowed two strangers to go out in the night to find and make -explanations to his friend. Oh, how he hoped that by some fortunate -chance Harry had caught the message and actually understood it. - -Of course, he had no doubt as to his duty after finding the stricken -Walter. But perhaps he ought to have gone first to meet Harry, and then -together they could have followed the trail of the pink arrow. He made -up his mind that as soon as morning came he would take this road under -the hill and go straight to Dibble Mountain, and if Harry were not there -he would track him and find him. “I can do it all right,” he assured -himself; “that’s nothing.” - -During the excitement of the evening, his chief desire had been that -Harry should do a mighty feat in the face of all odds, and show these -Albany fellows what a winner he really was. But now he found himself -growing more and more doubtful of the possibility of this and thinking -only of Harry’s anxiety when he did not appear. - -Still, he dreaded the morning, when the boys would doubtless speak -indulgently of Harry, cheerfully humoring his own hero-worship, and -probably feeling in their hearts that his friend’s greatness existed -chiefly in his own mind. “If they only knew of the things he has done,” -he thought; “if they only knew.” - -Then, for the first time, he fell to thinking of the robbery. It was -inconceivable to his honest, buoyant soul. Never had he been brought so -close to a crime before. Some one who knew that Walter Lee would be -coming through the woods with money had tampered with the bridge and -lurked about until the boy fell insensible, then robbed him, and left -him, perhaps to die. He began to realize the horror of the thing now. He -thought of Walter, as he had found him, lying stark and white in the -muddy chasm. For all he knew, Harry might now be lying, bleeding and -unconscious, in some gully where he had fallen searching for his -recreant friend. Sleep was out of the question. - -He hastily pulled on his clothing, raised the wall of the tent, and -crept softly out, stumbling into the drain ditch. A few yards away a -gleam of light shone from a tent upon the Ravens’ patrol flag just -outside. Gordon stood at a distance looking in. Walter Lee lay on a cot -in the center, and the “First Aid” boy stood near making jerky motions -as if hammering tacks. Then he placed something in Walter’s mouth. It -seemed to Gordon that Walter was smoking a cigarette—strange doings for -a boy scout! Then he saw that the “First Aid” boy had been shaking down -the mercury in the clinical thermometer, preparatory to taking his -patient’s temperature. - -This “First Aid” boy had not mixed with the others, had hardly spoken to -any one during the evening. He had shown no interest in the signaling, -nor even in the robbery. Apparently he had no intention of sleeping. He -wore above the elbow of his right arm one of the grandest badges that a -boy scout can seek—the ambulance badge. - -“I wish Dr. Brent could see that fellow,” thought Gordon. He was always -ready to admire others. In a corner of the tent under a lantern sat Mr. -Wade writing. Gordon wondered if he were writing to Walter Lee’s -parents. A faint odor of carbolic from the tent mingled with the pure, -still air of the night. It was very quiet within. The “First Aid” boy -made no sound as he moved about. “I wish I knew that fellow’s name,” -said Gordon. - -He crept away into the woods and up the hill, where the fire—a long -period to the message, as Al called it—was still burning,—a useless -beacon, as it seemed. He went down the other side of the hill to the -road, took out his jack-knife, opened both blades, and stuck one of them -into the earth. Kneeling, he fixed his teeth on the other blade. There -was no vibration, no sound which could possibly be construed into a -distant footfall. He tried it again, fifty yards or so along the road, -with the same result. - -Slowly he trudged up the hill again, pulled up his stocking, and stood -by the fire. In the woods below he could distinguish the faint gleam of -the lantern in the open tent. There was no sound but the low sputtering -of the blaze and the distant hoot of an owl. Gordon sat down and clasped -his hands around his drawn-up knees. - -“These fellows don’t know how hard it is to shoot rapids and ride logs -down a river,” he said. - -He did not even have an apple to comfort him. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - HARRY ARNOLD, SCOUT - - -Harry Arnold sat on a rock by the roadside, eating raisins out of a -small pasteboard box. On the ground lay his canvas pack, and against it -leaned his rifle. The air was brisk, for the night was well along, but -he wore no jacket, and the double row of pearl buttons on his blue -flannel shirt shone occasionally in the fitful gleams of moonlight. The -moon was working like a suffragette for its rights, but was continually -being effaced by the clouds which were rapidly coming to monopolize the -sky. If the breeze continued to increase Harry would, perhaps, -compromise with it by getting out a thin sweater, but under no -circumstances would he so far yield as to put on a coat. The matter of -attire was his weak point, and his total absence of any interest in the -scout regalia was the source of a great deal of sorrow to Gordon. - -Once he tightened the thin book-strap which he used for a belt and put -his belt ax into his canvas bag. Once he leaned and fastened the laces -in his mooseskin moccasins. He was as slender as a boy could be without -being noticeably thin,—gracefully slender, one would say. - -At the present moment he was just passing from the stage of mild -curiosity into that of anxiety for his young friend. For, making full -allowance for delays caused by inquiries and for Gordon’s independent -propensity to amble along in search of treasure, he was already very -much overdue. - -“I bet he shows up with a fifty-cent piece that he’s found, or a lady’s -buckle, or a rusty jack-knife,” said Harry. - -But Gordon did not show up with any of these things, and when an hour -and a half had gone by and still he did not come, Harry became seriously -anxious. He knew Gordon’s tendency to jump the track, as he called it, -and he thought it not at all improbable that he would any minute hear, -from the thicket, the hollow hand clap, merging into a rubbing sound, -which so accurately simulated the noise made by a four-footed beaver. It -had cost the patrol some trouble and not a little expense to get this -sound from first sources, and learn to make it, and you might practise -it a week and not fool a beaver; but Gordon had it pat. - -So Harry did not think it wise to leave the spot for long at a time. At -length, however, he tied a wisp of grass around a sapling, and -concealing his bag in the undergrowth started down the road along which -Gordon should come. A walk of fifteen minutes brought him to a house -where a dog barked at him vociferously. He did not waken the inmates, -for he knew that if Gordon had passed or called at the house, he would -have heard the distant barking. Another fifteen or twenty minutes -brought him to a ramshackle building, the home of one of the -unprosperous farmers of the district. Here he made inquiries, but the -farmer, roused from his sleep, was very brief and surly and had seen no -one. Harry thanked him with unaffected courtesy and went on. - -What surprised him most was that the occasional moonlight showed him no -footprints. After a few minutes he came to a little opening at the left -of the road and, straining his eyes, looked down through a vista of -trees which ran through the woods at a direct right angle from the road. -This reminded him that he had looked through a similar vista on the west -side of the straight road on which he had gone north. So there was -evidently a woodland track connecting the two roads he and Gordon had -taken, which did not show on the map. Turning rather abruptly into this -woodland byway were two wide concave tracks. He walked a little farther -down the road and in a flare of moonlight discovered a perfect carnival -of footprints. They faced in every direction, north, south, east, west. -There were scoopy indentations showing the heel counter of a shoe, and -little points in the ground, indicating the downward thrusts of a toe. - -“There’s only one thing lacking,” said Harry; “I wonder where she -waited.” He walked over to the stone wall and picked up a little -reticule containing, on hasty inspection, sixteen cents, a handkerchief, -and a bottle of smelling salts. This he thrust into his pocket. He also -thrust his hands into his pockets and smiled. - -“I bet he enjoyed this,” he soliloquized; “I can just see him standing -here watching—and waiting for a chance to spring a good turn.” - -He was perfectly satisfied that an auto had broken down. He picked out -where a man had lain on his stomach, had knelt, had lain on his back. He -put big prints and little prints together, like a picture puzzle, and -made human attitudes out of them. And he concluded that this interesting -exhibition, right in Gordon’s line, was accountable for the boy’s delay. -The auto had evidently turned down the wooded byway in order to get into -the better road. That Gordon should have abandoned his investigations to -be carried to his destination in an auto seemed hardly probable, except -on the theory that he was on the trail of a good turn. But what other -explanation was there? - -Acting on this theory, he turned back, sure that he would find Gordon -waiting for him. When he was within hailing distance of the point where -the roads converged he made the Beaver call, and was surprised that it -was not answered. Presently he reached the spot. The rock was empty, the -wisp of grass was as he had left it on the sapling. The moon was behind -a cloud now, so he lit a match and examined the eastern road. There were -the auto tracks, but running along one of these with lighted matches for -fifty yards or so (covering the spot where the two roads met), he could -find no interruption in the concave line. The auto had not stopped. It -had gone straight on along the road which skirted Dibble Mountain. - -Now, Harry was truly alarmed and more than perplexed. It was late at -night, the moonlight was fitful and uncertain, it was more often pitch -dark than not. He did not like to give up and rig his shelter for the -night. Idly he picked up the empty raisin box. Above him rose almost -sheer the grim, black side of the mountain. Soon he must eat something, -at any rate, for he was cruelly hungry. - -“Kid,” he said aloud, “where are you, anyway?” - -And then, on the minute, the answer came. Over in the west—a -mile—two—three,—he did not know,—there flickered a tiny light in the -darkness. Presently it grew larger, then disappeared, then came again. -Half interested, in his preoccupation, he waited for it to reappear. Now -it came and went, rapidly, in alternate flashes. He looked behind him -into the east to see if there were any answering light, but the flame -came jumping out faster and faster, as if to say, “Look here, _you_—I -have something to say—wait.” He waited, and when it came again it -stayed, one, two seconds. Instantly he was on his feet. It disappeared -and showed again for just a fraction of a second, then flared steadily, -then showed for another fraction of a second. He watched it intently as -it came and went. Now came a longer pause between the flashes. - -And on the bottom of the little raisin box that Harry held he had -written with the lead of a rifle cartridge the letters CAMP. - -He did not write the arbitrary signs for translation later; he took the -message in plain English, with never doubt or hesitancy, and in good -time he had it all. - -“All right, Kid,” he said, smiling; “glad to hear from you,” and dropped -the cartridge into his pocket. - -He was much relieved, of course, and very curious. Taking his pack and -rifle, he ran up the road until he came to the first turn. The distant -fire now burned steadily, though not as high as before, and he could see -that the road he had reached must lead in its direction. He was to go -down this road and watch any one he met. He hid his pack near the -roadside, took his rifle, and crept stealthily along through the trees -which bordered the road. His toes, free and pliant in their soft -moccasins, pinned and held the twigs on which he stepped and he made no -sound. Now and then a low, sudden scurrying told him that he had -disturbed some smaller creature of the wood, but save for these trifling -sounds he walked in perfect silence. - -The moon edged slowly from behind a cloud. “That’s right,” he whispered, -“bully for you—be a scout—come on out and help.” Perhaps the moon was -influenced by his persuasive words and felt that such a boy on such a -business and against such odds was entitled to all the help that she -could give. In any event, she sailed majestically clear of her -encumbrances and, as sure as you live, smiled a broad scout smile down -upon Harry Arnold. “Now you’re talking,” commented Harry. “Keep it up -and I’ll see you get the bronze medal—only keep it up.” - -He crept up to the road and looked for footprints, but found none of -recent making. His information was pitiably meager. A scout had been -robbed, and it was evidently suspected that the robber or robbers had -taken this road. That was all he knew. No one had passed here lately, -that was sure. He assumed that the signalers had good reason to believe -that some one had taken this direction. He figured that he could get to -the vicinity of the fire inside of an hour. So it would work the same -the other way. He would conceal himself and watch the road for an hour. -If he saw no one, he would simply assume that the robber had not taken -the open road. - -Now, if he had carried out this plan, he would shortly have seen the two -boys who had set out to find him. But Harry Arnold, Scout, was a mile -off the road when these boys passed, and this is how it happened. - -Before settling down to watch the road, he noticed a small bridge a few -yards farther along under which a stream flowed. You could canoe from -the Albany scouts’ camp to Lake Champlain on this stream, but Harry knew -nothing of the Albany camp. For all he knew, the Morse message had come -from the Oakwood scouts. In quest of a draught of water, he went -stealthily down the bank. He knelt, looked at the water, felt of it, and -shook his head. Then he stood on the brink of the stream with his two -hands resting on the bridge, which was about level with his shoulder. -Thus he craned his neck, looking up and down the road. Satisfied, he -vaulted silently up to the planking. His spring was as graceful and -agile as a panther’s. Instinctively, he looked down to see if he had -left any sign, for it is part of the A B C of scouting to leave no clue -behind, whatever your business, except what you leave for a purpose. -There on the edge of the planking were the wet prints of his two hands. -“Humph,” said he, and studied them closely. Then he knelt, felt of one, -daintily, softly, and brushed his two hands together. “Dried quick,” -said he. He leaped down to the bank and felt of the water. - -“Tisn’t so muddy, either.” He placed his hands on the planking over the -two marks. They did not match his. “I didn’t think I had a paw like -that,” he said. - -He looked beneath him on the bank where the dank grass was flattened. -“Too clumsy to vault it,” was his comment. “One of those big gawking -country jays, I guess.” He crept up the bank to the road, where the -moonlight flickered down through the branches of a willow tree. Reaching -up, he wriggled a broken limb, then smilingly kicked a small twig that -lay in the road. Crossing, he found a ruffled place, half in the road -and half in the bordering growths, where the brush seemed to be trampled -down. All this he examined in an amused, half-careless way. Presently he -took a short run and leaped across the road. “Easy enough,” he said. -Stooping, he carefully examined the ground and rose triumphant, holding -a small, flat paper package in his hand. “Maunabasha!” he whispered to -himself. (Maunabasha was the good Indian spirit that occasionally smiled -on his endeavors.) He lighted a match and read the lettering on the -package: - - FARMER’S FRIEND PLUG CUT - THE TOBACCO OF QUALITY - A SOLACE TO THE TIRED TOILER - THE AROMA OF THE HARVEST FIELD - -Harry took a whiff of the aroma of the harvest field. “The harvest field -could sue for damages on that,” he thought. But despite his scout -prejudice against tobacco, he was forced to admit that this little -package had done him a good turn. Here was the unmistakable proof of a -human presence, and it had not been here long, for it was fresh, -unstained, and dry. - -He put it in his pocket and went down the bank into the long meadow -grass that skirted the river. It was easy enough for him to see where -some one had preceded him here. The tall bent grass showed the trail -plainly. He plodded on through this marshy patch till presently he found -himself on the dry, abrupt shore of the river. Naked roots projected -here and there, worn smooth with the friction of feet, and he was able -to pick out a beaten path which ran along the stream’s edge. But the -earth was hard and there was no sign of footprint. Stooping, he examined -the ground carefully and presently discovered something which brought -him to his hands and knees. This was a little mark in the earth about -two inches long, knobby at one end and pointed at the other, as if some -one had attempted to draw a pollywog in the sand. But Harry knew it for -the imprint of a nail. He took an ordinary stride and found another -one—then another. There was no sign of shoeprint, for the earth was too -hard, but he found the nail impressions, printed crosswise for, maybe, -half a mile. Then one appeared lengthwise and he turned up from the -path. - -So far, so good. But here was a stubbly field with never sign of trail -or footprint. He tied his handkerchief to a branch of a tree where the -trail ended and walked straight ahead for a few feet until he discovered -a dim light flickering through the trees, which proved to come from the -upper window of a small, dilapidated house. Under the trees in the -little grove which surrounded it, he saw a stooping figure. He advanced -stealthily to the edge of the grove and watched. By the light from the -window he could see clearly a burly country fellow of, maybe, -twenty-five years, who drew something from his pocket and, lifting the -edge of a flat stone from the ground, placed it underneath. Harry -skirted the grove without making a sound and reached a point in front of -the stranger and about fifty feet from him. Here he stood behind a tree, -watching the fellow as he packed some loose earth under the edge of the -stone. Then, gliding noiselessly from one tree to another, he presently -stood before the stooping figure, now pressing the stone down with all -the strength of both arms. He spoke in the low, nonchalant, -half-interested tone that was characteristic of him: - -“Hello, what are you doing?” - -[Illustration: “HELLO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”] - -The fellow sprang to his feet, amazed at this apparition which seemed to -have dropped from the clouds. - -“M-me?” - -“Yes, you—what are you doing?” - -“Who are you, anyway—what are you doing here?” - -“I’m standing here,” said Harry, quietly. His manner was easy and his -voice low, almost sociable. “What are you doing, digging a hole?” - -The fellow instantly became as excited as Harry was calm, and tried to -hide his confusion under a torrent of abuse. - -“I guess you’re one of them scout fellers that’s always puttin’ their -noses in other folks’ business. Do ye know ye’re on private land? I -thought them scout fellers had a rule not to trespass. You get out of -this double quick, or I’ll fix yer. You can’t prowl round this farm in -the middle of the night—you nor none of yer hifalutin crew. What are ye -doin’ here, anyway—where d’ye come from?” - -“How do you know ‘them scout fellers’ have a rule not to trespass?” -asked Harry, gently. - -“That’s all right, how I know.” - -“You’ve met some of them?” - -“None o’ your business!” - -“You’ve seen one or two of them quite lately?” Harry asked, with just a -touch of sharpness in his voice. - -The fellow saw that he had fallen into a trap. - -Almost in his first sentence he had admitted a knowledge of the boy -scouts, and he stood embarrassed before Harry’s rather contemptuous -smile. - -“Are you goin’ ter clear out o’ this or not?” - -“Not,” said Harry. - -The fellow stooped and picked up a rock. Harry did not move. He dropped -the rock and put his hand around to his hip pocket. Harry also put his -hand in his hip pocket, and the fellow started back. - -“Here, is this yours?” said Harry, tossing him the package of tobacco. -“What’s the matter—did you think I was going to shoot you?” - -They stood contemplating each other, Harry quietly amused, the other -afraid to speak lest he say too much. - -The countryman put the package in his hip pocket. - -“I thought you had plenty of room there,” said Harry; “no pistol after -all, eh? You see, you shouldn’t have picked up the rock. That was a bad -move, because men with pistols in their pockets don’t pick up rocks. And -I have nothing but this rifle and I’m not going to use it. I’d no more -think of using it than I would of using that tobacco. The only dangerous -thing you have about you is your ‘Farmer’s Friend Plug Cut,’ and it’s no -friend to you either, for it gave you dead away.” - -“You think you can come up here with your city gab, don’t you, and scare -honest folks on their own land, that don’t trespass, nor ask no favors, -neither.” - -“The scouts been asking for milk—or maybe water?” Harry asked, smiling. -“What made you think you might be tracked? Because you knew there were -scouts about?” - -“Who said I thought I’d be tracked? I ain’t a-scared to have my spoor -follered—” - -“Where did you learn that word—spoor?” - -Harry’s voice and manner were now a little sharp. Every time the fellow -spoke he was tripped up. The more he said, the more he gave himself -away. The active mind of his inquisitor balked and confounded him, and -he had no resource except in a tirade or an attack, and these he wished -to avoid, partly from genuine fear of this strange boy, and partly -because he had no wish that the altercation be heard in the house. Harry -saw that he had him. And he went on, speaking in short, choppy -sentences, looking the other right in the eye, and sending each word -straight to its mark like an arrow. He had no more fear or hesitancy -than if he were talking to an infant. The great creature who stood -before him looked at him as a grizzly bear might look at its keeper. - -“Look here now. In the first place, you didn’t come down the road. Why -not? When you had to cross it, you tried to vault up to the bridge and -went down like a bag of oats. Then you tried to swing across the road -like a monkey and went down again like a bag of meal. Why were you so -anxious not to leave a footprint, eh? Then, after all that trouble, you -left the ‘Farmer’s Solace’—or whatever you call it—Plug Cut, and went -down the bank marking out a trail as clear as Broadway. Then, when I -show up, the first thing you tell me is the rules of the boy scouts? -What do _you_ know about the boy scouts? You’ve been trying to imitate -them with your smattering about ‘spooring.’ Who said anything about -spooring? Hold on, now—I know what you’re going to say. Of course, -there’s no crime in all that. You can come down the road standing on -your head for all I care, but just the same I’m going to see what’s -under that stone.” - -“I thought a scout feller was supposed—” - -“Oh, a scout fellow is supposed to put this and that together,” Harry -interrupted with some impatience; “and if you think I came here for the -benefit of my health you’re mistaken.” - -He stepped toward the stone and saw the other look apprehensively at the -house. His predicament was a sore one, and Harry had foreseen and -counted on it. If he precipitated a scuffle, it would rouse the inmates -of the house. If he didn’t, the game was up. He fell back on the only -course open to him—a weak attempt at explanation. - -“Haven’t I got a right to pick up what I find, hey? What business have -you got to trac—follow me, anyway? Haven’t I got a good right to bring -home anything I find?” - -Harry disdained to answer. Kneeling, he raised the edge of the stone. -But the wretched boy who watched him could not quite stand by and see -that done. He put his big hand on Arnold’s shoulder, and roughly thrust -him back. Like lightning Harry’s hand was on his ankle. He tripped, -staggered clumsily, and went down with a thud. When he had pulled -himself together Harry was standing a few feet away examining his find, -but keeping a weather eye on his new acquaintance. There was a wallet -containing money and a letter. The wallet and the money he thrust into -his pocket; the letter he read as best he could by the light from the -window. It was dated several days before, and read: - - Dear Walter,— - - I have no objection to the canoe if Mr. Wade approves. You say - several others have them. You had better take Al Wilson to - Ticonderoga with you and be sure you are getting a good one. I - should say the one you mention would be a bargain if it is in - good condition. - - Your examination papers are here and I want to talk over this - matter of the mathematics with you. Suppose you run down home - over Sunday. You could go back Monday or Tuesday, and I’ll give - you the money while you are here. - - Yours, - Father. - -All this was a puzzle to Harry, for there was no Walter in the Oakwood -troop. But he betrayed not the slightest surprise as he spoke to the -other boy. - -“So you stole Walter’s canoe money, eh?” - -“I found it in the road,” was the sullen answer. “I was going to—” - -“Sure you were—you were going to hide it. What’s the matter—afraid to -let your folks know you found something in the road?” His tone was full -of contempt now, and he paused, in a quandary what to do. He knew he -could not arrest the farmer boy, and he was not sure that he wanted to. -He did not know that the crime had been all but murder. His only feeling -was that of disgust, and he surveyed the great, clumsy figure before him -from head to foot. - -“Go on into the house,” he said impatiently. “Who’s in there, your -mother and father?” - -“My mother.” - -“Well, go on in and go to bed.” - -“What are you going to do?” the wretched fellow asked desperately. - -“I don’t know what I’m going to do, if you mean about you. I’ve got to -consult my scoutmaster. Go on in and go to bed—How old is your mother?” - -“She’s nearly seventy.” - -Harry surveyed him slowly, contemptuously, from head to foot. He did not -understand dishonesty. “Well, go on in,” he repeated, “and don’t wake -her up. I guess you’re about through for to-night.” He paused, looking -steadily, curiously, at the other, as one might look at a strange -animal. Then he wheeled about and went silently off across the field. - -“Blamed if I know who Al Wilson is, or Walter, either, but if they buy a -second-hand canoe in Ticonderoga they get stuck. Jiminy, but that Kid’s -the greatest! I wonder what he’s been pushing into now.” - - * * * * * - -Gordon squatted before the dying signal-fire, an occasional gape of -stupendous dimensions distorting his round face. Below him the camp -slept peacefully. The dim light glimmered in the invalid’s tent, -occasionally blurred by the shadow of the “First Aid” boy moving to and -fro. Gordon knew now that his mind’s-eye picture of Arnold arriving like -a conquering hero was an extravagant vision. He knew that the Albany -scouts knew it, too. - -“Al Wilson could _not_ have done it,” said he, “nor any of the rest of -’em. Nobody can do impossibilities. These fellows think it’s easy to -bring a ca-a-a-a—” He was trying to say canoe and gape at the same -time. - -“Hello, Kid,” said a low, careless voice, almost in his ear. “What are -you doing here?” - -“Harry!” - -“Sure—who’d you think? Where’ve you been, anyway?” - -“But Harry—” - -“Who the dickens is Walter?” - -The younger boy clutched his friend by the arm. “Harry—I—he’s a boy -here—they—did you—why—” - -“I’ve got forty dollars belonging to him. What’s the news, anyway?” - - - - - CHAPTER X - - THE SWASTIKA - - -In the morning it began, bright and early. Harry lay alone in the tepee, -dead to the world. Mr. Wade had been quietly roused by Gordon and had -accorded Harry this resting-place with strict instructions to pay no -attention to reveille. Gordon had crept back among the sleeping Hyenas. - -It started when the two boys who had gone in search of Harry returned to -camp a few minutes after reveille, passing the Hyenas’ tent. - -“How’s Walter?” they called to the one or two who had risen promptly. - -“All right when we turned in. Any news?” - -“No—couldn’t find a sign of his friend. He may have gone back to -Ticonderoga. He didn’t come along this road—that’s sure.” - -“Maybe he’s up on Dibble Mountain making rice puddings.” - -“Keep quiet, you’ll wake him.” - -All this Gordon heard in a delicious half-sleep. - -“We met a chap on a bicycle from a summer place up Crown Point way—said -he was hunting for a hand-bag a lady left on a stone wall—auto broke -down and she sat on the wall to wait for them to fix it.” - -“I haven’t it,” called one Hyena. - -“You can search me,” said another. - -“Guess she’ll never see it again.” - -“Oh, she may, you can’t tell; the bicycle chap may find it. Nobody’s -likely to have noticed it on a stone wall at night—it’s early yet. -Honest, didn’t you hear anything of that Oakwood chap?” - -“Didn’t we tell you, no?” - -“Gone back to the log jam, I guess. The kid’ll be awful disappointed. -He’s got the bee in his bonnet that his friend’s as clever as he -is,—he’s a mighty nice little fellow.” - -“Sure, it’s fun to see him grin when you jolly him. Wade’s stuck on him, -all right.” - -“Yes, and he’s got Al hypnotized.” - -By this time the Hyenas were dragging themselves heavily from their cots -and sleepily aiding the conversation. - -“I’d like to know what was the use of sending that message, anyway. We -might have known it wouldn’t do any good. Why, man alive, if any one did -sneak down that road, it must have been an hour before we got the fire -started. Chuck my belt over here, will you, Dan?” - -“Well, it was good exercise, anyway. Oh, but my arm is stiff!” - -The camp was soon astir, and Gordon, wrestling desperately to suppress -his scout smile, came forth with the last stragglers. He stood in the -fresh morning air, watching the routine, which began early. A boy with a -pointed stick moved about, spearing papers and depositing them in a box -for burning. “No news of your pal?” said he, as he passed. Gordon smiled -and said nothing. Another boy was hurrying here and there, filling, -trimming, and wiping lanterns. “Hello, Oakwood,” he called, “guess your -patrol leader was asleep at the switch when we sent that little fire -note—don’t you care.” Several others were rigging a rope fence outside -Walter’s tent, where a Red Cross flag had already been raised. -Everything seemed to move like clockwork. Two boys came in for firewood -and departed for more. One was sorting and chopping the pieces. Others -were setting the long table-board with plates, while the savory odor of -coffee came from the lean-to. Gordon wandered among these early toilers, -responding to a pleasant word or a good-natured taunt from each, -fascinated with this first view of genuine camp life. - -Mr. Wade sat at a small table under a tree, while several scouts hovered -near, waiting his leisure. Al Wilson, standing at his elbow, beckoned to -Gordon. - -“Don’t you worry,” said he. “No doubt your friend is all right. I think -he may have gone into Ticonderoga. Most of the folks around here know -our camp, and I guess you’ll see him come walking in before the day’s -over. And don’t think that he ought to have made good—it was -impossible.” - -“The fellows say _you_ could have done it,” ventured Gordon. - -“Well, I couldn’t. I might have made out the message, but that’s all the -good it would have done me. None of us can do the impossible, can we, -Mr. Wade?” - -“Not as a rule,” said Mr. Wade, intent on his writing. Presently he -handed three small pieces of birch-bark to a boy, on each of which was -written in lead pencil, “10:30.” These were for the patrol leaders and -meant, “Come to council.” Atwell, leader of the Hyenas, received his -while helping to raise the colors, and was puzzled. Al read his in -silence and was puzzled, too, but knew better than to question his -chief. Frankie, leader of the Elephants, standing in the door of his -tent, took his with great condescension. - -“Frankie got a pretty picture card?” asked a passing scout. For answer, -Frankie let fly a huge, overripe pear, which went to its mark with -deadly precision. - -“I suppose you know those Hyenas are a bunch of jolliers,” he remarked -to Gordon, who stood near. - -“I don’t mind that,” Gordon answered. - -“Well, you would if you were I. But I’ve got a way to fix them. It’s my -corporal’s idea. You’re going to be here through to-day, aren’t you? -Well, you’ll see some fun. I’ve got to attend council at ten-thirty, and -after that I’ve called a special patrol meeting to consider the plan.” - -“Peek-a-boo, Frankie,” called a passing boy. - -“That’s one of the worst of the lot,” said Frankie, confidentially. - -“What’s the plan?” Gordon asked. - -“You’ll see—it’ll be the Laughing _Elephants_ by to-night.” - -In a little while came the call to prayers, then breakfast. There was a -camp historian in the Albany troop whose business it was to record the -doings of each day and to read the entries of the day before, every -morning before the campers rose from the early meal. Since the patrols -often went about their pleasures separately and the boys were wont to -wander off in pairs for a day of fishing, stalking, or exploring, it -fell out that this record often contained matter unfamiliar to the camp -as a whole, and so its reading was awaited with interest. - -This morning, owing to the affair of Walter Lee, it would have a special -interest. For Mr. Wade had been so much occupied during the evening and -night before that none had ventured to question him. - -When the meal was finished Henry Earle, the historian, rose at his place -and, according to custom, first announced the camp routine for the day. - -Plans for any special expeditions were submitted to Mr. Wade and then -handed to Earle. From these he now read: - - “The Raven patrol attends to the cooking from to-day until the - 10th inclusive. Not more than two members to leave camp at one - time for longer than an hour. No sentry duty. Collins relieved - of all patrol duties because of troop duty.” (Collins was “First - Aid” boy.) “The Hyena Patrol canoes to the Lake this afternoon - for fishing. Elephant Patrol to accompany them for outing and - assistance.” (Smiles from the Raven Patrol.) “Meals as usual. - Camp-fire yarns to-night. Blake to go into the village for mail - and errands; must have commissions and letters before eleven - o’clock. Patrol leaders in conference with scoutmaster at 10:30. - No leaves of absence for this evening.” - -He thrust the papers into his pocket and took up his book. The brief -record of Walter Lee’s return, with the circumstances, was read. -Gordon’s name was mentioned without comment or compliment. The troop -listened attentively. - - “The suspicions of robbery were entertained,” Earle read, - “because of a footprint and other signs near the chasm. The - visit of two country boys to camp a few days ago and the - conversation they heard about Walter’s visiting home to get - money for a canoe were regarded with some suspicion. It was - thought that the fugitive might have taken the road under the - hill, and as the friend and scout partner of Gordon Lord was - supposed to be waiting for him on the road under Dibble - Mountain, a Morse signal message was sent up telling Lord’s - whereabouts and asking him to watch the road. But the fugitive, - it appears, did not take the road.” - -At this sentence the boys started, and a stir of surprise passed round -the board. Even the quiet Al Wilson looked inquiringly at Mr. Wade. -Gordon wrestled valiantly with his scout smile, and looked straight -before him. - - “At ten minutes after two this morning,” the reader continued, - “a scout, Harry Arnold by name, leader of the Beaver Patrol, 1st - Oakwood, N. J., Troop, brought to camp and delivered to Mr. E. - C. Wade, Scoutmaster, a wallet containing two letters and forty - dollars belonging to Walter Lee.” - -Murmurs of astonishment followed this announcement. Gordon’s eyes were -riveted upon a distant tree. - - “The full details of how he received and read the Morse message, - made sure that no one had gone along the road, traced the robber - by means of finger prints on the flooring of a bridge, and - followed his trail over hard land by the print of a nail - embedded in his shoe; how he came upon the thief in the very act - of hiding his booty near his home, took it from him and brought - it here; these details belong to the history of the 1st Oakwood - Troop, Oakwood, N. J., and will constitute a glorious page in - that troop’s annals.” - -Gordon, still looking straight before him, had conquered his scout -smile; yet he was not wholly victorious, for instead his eyes were -brimming over. - -“Where is he? Where is he, anyway?” shouted several boys, jumping up. -Cattell rose, knocking over a cup, stumbled round the board, and clapped -Gordon on the shoulder. “Where is he?” he shouted. “Let’s have a look at -him.” Al Wilson came around and placed his arm over Gordon’s shoulder, -smiling, saying nothing. Some one suggested the tepee, and it was not -till a roystering, shouting group had started in that direction that -Gordon got himself under control. They did not wait for him. They had -forgotten him. But Harry Arnold, his chum, his friend, his idol, had -made good, as he always made good, and they were going to honor him. -This was joy enough for Gordon. Then, realizing what they were bent on -doing, he rushed pell-mell in pursuit, and coming between them and the -closed tepee, spread out his arms. - -“You can’t go in, fellows,” he panted. “He’s asleep and Mr. Wade doesn’t -want him waked up. He’s awfully tired—honest, he is!” Then, as they -paused, he said, as if on second thought, and so as not to make their -disappointment too heavy, “But if you come quiet, you can peek in and -take a look at him if you want to.” - - * * * * * - -An hour later Harry sat down to a belated but welcome breakfast, served -by enthusiastic Ravens who rejoiced in their special privilege to -minister to his comfort. A continually changing group lolled about the -long board, asking questions and commenting on his exploit. He answered -all their questions in his easy, careless way, correcting when they -overrated the difficulty of this or that. - -“Oh, no,” he said, answering one of Al Wilson’s questions, “hard -ground’s better than soft when there’s a loose nail in a shoe or -anything sticking on the sole—there’s nothing hard about following -that—anybody could do it.” - -“That’s just like him! That’s just like him!” cried Gordon, excitedly. - -His breakfast over, Harry wandered about, a dozen Albany scouts -surrounding him. Gordon walked over to the boy who was clearing the -table and whispered to him confidentially. “You can’t get him to wear a -belt,” said he. “Red Deer tried to, and his corporal gave him an -alligator-skin one, but he wouldn’t wear it—he just wears that -book-strap. And we can’t get him to wear the scout uniform—he likes -that blue shirt,—he’s very funny about some things.” - -“Eccentricities of genius,” suggested Al Wilson, who stood near. - -“He won’t even wear a coat,” said Gordon. - -“Never mind,” said Al, “let him wear what he likes.” - -There was never a happier boy than Gordon Lord that morning. In the -excitement of Harry’s coming his own adventure of the day before had -fallen into the shadow. No one spoke of that now, but Harry knew about -it and had praised him, and that was enough. He was constantly near his -friend, feasting on the praises which Harry, much to his discomfort, was -forced to hear. The rule requiring a scout to “smile and look pleasant” -was obeyed by Gordon to the full ability of his mouth. But the climax of -his triumph was reached as they sat about under a huge oak waiting for -the early dinner which was to precede the trip down to the lake. Harry -lolled indolently on the sward, amusing himself with mumbly-peg, and -occasionally joining in the conversation. - -“Wonder if that bicycle chap found the bag he was after?” one said. - -“Like enough—nobody’d see it in the dark and he was out early.” - -“What kind of a bag was it, anyway?” - -“Oh, kind of—this—what do you call it—mesh-work, he said.” - -“Bottle of smelling salts in it?” asked Harry, as he twirled his -jack-knife and sent it plunging into the earth. - -The boys stared. - -“Sure,” answered one of those who had met the bicyclist. “What do you -know about it?” - -Harry laid the blade of his knife between two fingers, eyed it -critically, and struck the bone handle with the first finger of his -other hand. The knife made four complete somersaults and landed upright -in the grass. - -“Handkerchief—sixteen cents?” said he. - -“Sure!” cried the astonished boy. - -Harry fumbled in his pocket, brought forth the reticule, and slung it by -its chain to the boy who had spoken. Then he held his knife suspended -vertically and, forming a ring with his thumb and finger about twelve -inches below it, dropped the knife through the ring. - -“Can you do that, Kid?” he said to Gordon, who sat near him. - -“Where’d you get this bag?” asked the boy who held it. - -“Picked it up on a stone wall near where there’d been an automobile -accident.” - -“How did you know there was an automobile accident?” chimed in another. - -“Oh, I don’t know—just noticed it—that is, the signs of it—there was -an auto, that’s sure, and somebody doing acrobatic tricks in the road. -Who does the bag belong to, do you know?” - -“Lady in Crown Point, that’s all I know.” - -“We’ll have to hunt her up, Kid; here” (handing the knife to Gordon) -“try this—it’s a good trick—I bet you pull your fingers away. This is -the hardest one I ever did.” - -“Then you admit there’s something hard you _can_ do,” laughed Al Wilson, -admiringly. - -“Oh, yes,” Harry laughed back. “I’m the star mumbly-peg player—hey, -Kid?” And he slapped Gordon on the shoulder. But Gordon was too -astonished to speak. - -The meeting of the patrol leaders with Mr. Wade had taken place earlier -in the morning, but no one had been able to get a clue as to what it was -all about. Frankie carried himself with an air of profound mystery—but -that was for reasons of his own. Of course, Al Wilson knew, but you -couldn’t pry anything out of Al with a crowbar. - -The dinner hour came, and it was a merry company that gathered around -the rough, tree-shaded board. The trip to the lake was discussed, talk -of canoes, fishing tackle, and such things went round, and an occasional -remark, in a particularly loud, significant tone, about Frankie and the -Elephants, passed from one Hyena to another. But the Elephants paid no -heed to these flippant observations. - -When Mr. Wade rose from the table, he asked the entire troop to gather -in fifteen minutes under the “assembly tree.” This was a spreading oak -from whose low branches hung a variety of forest trophies, masterpieces -of whittling and willowworking (the product of rainy afternoons), and -other specimens of camp handiwork. About six feet from the ground a -rough board with ragged ends had been fastened to the trunk, on which -was carved the quotation: - - And this, our life, exempt from public haunts, - Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, - Sermons in stones, and good in everything. - -This had been their meeting-place ever since they started camp. Here two -of Frankie’s patrol, the Stetson brothers, having come from the city to -join the scouts, had stood in the dim, solemn light under the thick -branches, and taken the Scouts’ Oath to do their duty to God and -country, to help others at all times, and to obey the Scout Law. Here -Fred Brownell, Hyena, had stood before the Court of Honor and received -from Mr. Wade’s hand the badge for marksmanship, which Frankie’s vote -had helped to award him. For Frankie was incorruptible in the discharge -of public duties, and his worst jollier could be sure of justice at his -hands. - -The full troop always gathered here for morning prayers and to sing the -patriotic anthem when the sun went down. There was always a quiet -atmosphere under this green roof, and the boys, as they straggled into -the old tree’s shade, removed their hats and stood together in little -groups. Harry and Gordon stood apart. - -Presently Mr. Wade came out of the tepee and through the assembled boys -to his usual place, directly under the rustic sign. - -“Scouts,” he said, “it is written in the law that it is a scout’s duty -to be useful and to help others, even though he give up his own pleasure -or comfort or safety to do it, and that he is bound to carry out an -order to the very best of his ability, and to let nothing interfere with -his doing so.” - -(“He means you,” whispered Gordon. - -“Nonsense!” answered Harry.) - -“If he be a good scout, he may conceive a mere suggestion, a hint, to be -an order, and map out his own path of duty as if he were acting under -command. The path may lead him among strangers. He may have to decide -his duty, standing alone, without counsel, in the darkness of the night. -But that is the law.” - -(“He does mean you,” protested Gordon. - -“Keep still, will you.”) - -“The hint may come to him in such a way that an ordinary boy—I had -almost said an ordinary scout—could not have known his duty from it. We -are not all equally favored by Providence.” - -(“There, what more do you want?” whispered Gordon, excitedly. - -“Nonsense,” said Harry, blushing a little.) - -“He may limit himself to the letter of the law if he chooses,” continued -Mr. Wade, “but he usually follows its spirit. The path of his duty may -wind its way through hardship or suffering or peril, but these things he -will not see.” - -(“Tha—” - -“Keep still, I tell you!” whispered Harry.) - -“If he be a scout favored by the gods and have the gift of prowess—” - -(“That’s you, sure!” - -“Oh, give us a rest!”) - -“—the measure of his achievement may be large, and applause and -admiration follow after him to pay him tribute.” - -(Harry managed with difficulty to control Gordon.) - -“The path may lead him to the wounded, the dying. It may bring him face -to face with the guilty and the desperate.” - -This time Gordon had no chance to whisper, for a shout went up that -echoed back from the hill to meet another and still another, yelled out -by a score of boys, who waved their arms and threw their hats in the -air. - -“Hurrah for Oakwood! Hurray for the Beavers! Hurray for the Beavers’ -leader! Hurray for Gordon Lord!” - -Mr. Wade’s upraised arm could not stem the tide, nor could Gordon turn -it all upon his friend. His attempt to do so, the tendency that he had -shown from the first, only increased their admiration and enthusiasm for -him. It was as if a dam had burst and overwhelmed him—a dam which had -been seeking vent for two days. Harry patted Gordon proudly on the -shoulder. - -“Hurray for Oakwood!” went up again and again. “Hurrah for Harry Arnold! -Three cheers for Kid Lord!” - -A rousing “tiger” was given, and then Mr. Wade motioned again for -silence. - -“I have been authorized by our three patrols,” he said, “represented by -their leaders, to present to Harry Arnold, leader of the Beaver Patrol, -1st Oakwood, N. J., Troop, and to Gordon Lord, one of his scouts, the -swastika badge of gratitude. - -“These badges were made especially for our troop,” he went on, looking -toward Gordon and Harry, “and were planned by us as a means of offering -some grateful tribute to those who, whether scouts or not, may chance to -do us some special service. Intrinsically they are mere trifles,” he -said, holding up a small swastika of narrow band silver, “but they will -serve as souvenirs to keep in memory deeds of which you two boys may be -justly proud. They are given ‘lest you forget’ for your memories, it -appears, are poor. One of you has already forgotten his achievement of -last evening in praising the achievement of his friend; and his friend’s -interest in mumbly-peg seems to be so great that he can remember little -else.” - -A general laugh followed this. - -“He’s got eyes in the back of his head,” Frankie whispered -confidentially, in Harry’s ear. “He’s on to everything.” - -“These little testimonials of our admiration and gratitude are given you -with the wish that you will remain with us as long as you can. But we -realize that you are searching for your own troop, and we must not -detain you long. It is the earnest request of our three patrols, who -agree in this if in nothing else” (he glanced slyly at Frankie and at -the Hyenas’ leader) “that you, at least, remain for camp-fire this -evening and let us have you for our guests one night more.” - -Harry stepped forward and received the little silver swastika badge in -his easy, offhand, but not ungrateful manner; then Gordon, beaming with -pride and delight, and smiling his scout smile from ear to ear. It was -the first honor he had received from the Boy Scouts, and though many -honors were to come his way, there was never another one which gave him -just the same pleasure. And though he was destined to learn much, there -was one thing that he never learned, and that was why, with such a -fellow as Harry Arnold to admire, scouts, young and old (to say nothing -of scoutmasters), loved to make him smile his scout smile and persisted -in helping him, in jollying him, in liking him, and in cheering him like -wild Indians whenever they got the chance. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - FRANKIE SQUARES ACCOUNTS - - -“Come, come, hurry up, Frankie! Don’t be all day! Are you all there? -Where’s the Stetson twins?” - -“Coming,” answered Frankie, as he and three of his patrol reached the -shore. “What’s in that bottle?” - -“Soothing sirup, in case you cry,” said a boy, who was bailing out the -dory. - -Frankie and his scouts got into the boat, and soon the Stetson twins -(aged ten, the very youngest of the troop, and known as -“tenderfeetlets”) came down. One of them, “Giant George,” was hardly big -enough to see without a magnifying glass, if you care to believe Atwell, -but he made up in fearlessness and resolution. - -“There mustn’t be more than one boy in the boat with Giant George,” -spoke up Brownell. “Mr. Wade says we must run no risks. Who’s willing to -volunteer to paddle the canoe occupied by Giant George?” - -“I’ll take that job,” said Harry Arnold. - -“Got a good muscle?” asked Brownell, seriously. - -“I guess I can manage it,” smiled Harry. - -“All right; now, let’s see. Frankie, Corporal Tommy, Eddie Worth, and -Charles Augustus Denning in the dory—here, Atwell, it’s up to you—get -in and keep your eye on this bunch. Now, William Stetson, hop in the -canoe there with Oakwood” (meaning Gordon), “and I’ll make up the trio.” -This left four members of the Hyena Patrol, who got into the other -canoe. - -The stream flowed about a quarter of a mile from camp, and, passing -under the three roads which had figured in the night’s adventures, wound -through a beautiful, wooded valley into Lake Champlain. The dory, flying -Frankie’s official banner ostentatiously at its stern, headed the -procession, and the three canoes hovered about it, gliding easily upon -the current. Now one of them would swerve near the majestic flagship to -make some slurring comment on the Elephant Patrol, now dart forward like -a playful child to await the squadron under low-hanging boughs farther -down the stream. Now and again a lazy frog, startled by the passing -pageant, dived into his muddy sanctum, and here and there along the way -the birds complained to one another of this invasion of their domain. -The scene was peaceful, quiet, and one might fancy the adventurous -Champlain exploring these same woods in his own rough, Indian-paddled -craft, many years before. Only, where the colors of France or the banner -of the French Jesuits once grazed the overhanging branches, now the flag -of the Elephant Patrol waved gayly and defiantly in the breeze. And -never had the bold Champlain such a startling enterprise to carry -through as the young leader of the Elephants. - -Harry managed his canoe as an experienced driver manages his horse. He -never appeared to exert himself. He never had to undo the effect of one -stroke with that of another. “Giant George,” his sole passenger, sat in -the bow and watched him with unbounded admiration. The canoe containing -the four Hyenas had been skirting the shore and its passengers had been -reaching out and plucking leaves or twigs or berries. Now one of them -called out: - -“Here, Giant George, have a pear?” - -Giant George’s small hands went up to receive the luscious missile which -bounded through the air. - -“Ouch!” he said, as he caught and dropped it. - -“What is it?” Harry asked. - -“Burs!” Giant George answered. - -“Sit in the middle, Giant George, and don’t bear down too hard,” came -from Atwell, in the dory. - -“Hey, Giant George, sit in the middle!” shouted Brownell, excitedly. -“What are you trying to do, tip the canoe?” Others took up the cry, -yelling at him to sit in the middle, till they had stirred up quite a -panic. It was difficult to sit anywhere except in the middle, for Giant -George was wedged into the bow where there wasn’t anything but middle, -but he sat straight upright and was very much frightened. Then he began -to shake the hand which stung him from catching the burs. - -“Don’t do that!” came from a neighboring canoe. “My, but you’re -reckless! Shake the other one too if you must shake!” Poor Giant George -was very much frightened, until presently an assuring word came from -Frankie. - -“Splash some water on them,” he called. But Giant George would not -budge. - -“Don’t you mind them,” said Harry. “Suppose I lose you overboard and -we’ll make one of those Laughing Hyenas go in after you.” - -“I can’t swim,” said Giant George, promptly. - -“No, I don’t suppose you can,” said Harry, looking the little fellow -over with an amused grin. “But you don’t need to sit so straight, and -you can shake your hand all you want to—they’re only joking you.” - -“We’re going to get square on them,” said Giant George, encouraged by -Harry’s show of friendship. “My patrol leader’s got a scheme to make -them laugh on the other side of their faces; he’s awful smart—Frankie -is.” - -“What’s the scheme?” - -“Well, I can’t tell you yet, but you’ll see. Will you stand by us?” - -“Surest thing you know. I’m with the Elephants to the last ditch.” - -“Hey, Oakwood,” some one called to Harry; “don’t let him jolly you. Here -you go, Giant, catch this!” But Giant George was out of the business of -catching things. - -Presently Gordon’s canoe came alongside Harry’s, and naturally enough a -race was in order. Gordon was much troubled. He did not want to be in -the losing canoe, but he did not want to see Harry beaten. There was not -much danger of this, however, for Brownell had plenty to learn in -wielding the paddle. The two canoes shot forward, Brownell taking the -lead and splashing water over his rival. Harry soon passed him, however, -making neither sound nor spray, and a loud cheer went up, to the delight -of Giant George, who was very proud of his companion. - -Harry’s swift glide brought his canoe into a marshy basin filled with -reeds, beyond which was Lake Champlain. - -“Don’t push through there,” called Brownell; “run her up and we’ll cut -across that little cape.” - -The craft were all drawn up on the shore, and Gordon and Harry saw that -a walk of some two minutes across a little grassy point of land would -bring them out upon the lake. A beaten path ran here, and it was evident -to the two Oakwood boys that this was the customary way to reach Lake -Champlain. - -“Now, Frankie,” said Atwell, “here’s your happy hunting ground; get busy -and dig us some bait while we’re over having a soak.” The Hyenas, one -and all, undressed, throwing their clothing into the boats and putting -on their trunks. Gordon and Harry followed suit, wearing trunks which -had been lent them by the Ravens. - -“Come, Giant George, hurry up!” called Atwell, as George stepped -gingerly from his canoe. “Who’s got the can, anyway?” The can was not to -be found. “Well, that’s a nice fix to get us in, Frankie; here, let’s -have that bottle—you’ll have to put the bait in that.” - -“How’ll we get ’em out?” asked Brownell. - -“Just whistle and they’ll come out.” - -“Let’s have the bottle a minute,” said Gordon. - -“Let him have it,” laughed Harry; “he’s got a way.” - -And sure enough, he had. He placed the bottle between his knees, wound a -piece of fishing line once around it just below the neck, pulled it -rapidly back and forth for several seconds, then plunged the bottle into -the water. The neck remained in the stream and Gordon handed to Brownell -a perfect drinking cup, smooth and even where it had broken off. - -“Good for you!” exclaimed Atwell. - -“Isn’t he the greatest!” said Frankie. - -“That’s nothing,” said Gordon. - -“Here, Frankie,” said Brownell, “you and the youngsters get busy now. -We’ll be back in half an hour and fish upstream a ways. Good-by, Giant -George.” The group passed out of sight, and the Elephants gathered -faithfully about their leader. - -“That big Oakwood fellow’s with us,” spoke up Giant George; “he said -he’d stand by us to the last ditch.” This was encouraging, for with the -exception of Frankie, they were a little fearful and had a cowardly -tendency to backslide. But the patronage of such a scout as Harry Arnold -reassured them, and Frankie’s enthusiasm and resolve lent them courage. - -“Quick, now,” said he, “one of them may be back any minute. Put your -hand up inside my jacket, George. Feel that cardboard?” Giant George -presently loosened from under his leader’s garment a large square of -cardboard on which was printed: - - THE ELEPHANTS’ COMPLIMENTS - TO - THE HYENAS - -This was fastened to a tree in a conspicuous place, while other members -of the patrol went through various extraordinary contortions to release -from under the rear of their jackets other squares of cardboard, bearing -a variety of significant observations: - - CAMP TWO MILES - TAKE FIRST PATH TO LEFT - BEWARE OF PINE NEEDLES - - AFTER YOU, MY DEAR HYENAS - - TEN CENTS TO SEE THE - LAUGHING HYENAS LAUGH! - - ELEPHANTS SUDDENLY CALLED - BACK TO THE JUNGLE - - HAVE A LEMON, ATWELL? - - DON’T FORGET SCOUT LAW, - “SMILE AND LOOK PLEASANT” - -“Take one shoe from each pair,” Frankie ordered. “They can’t wear the -other one, and it will make something for them to carry. Same with socks -and stockings. And leave them one garter each. Now pitch the -rest—everything—in the boat.” - -In less than five minutes the tree trunks were decorated with signs and -artistic representations of hyenas laughing, ironic directions for -reaching home, and so forth. From one tree there dangled here and there -an odd shoe, an odd sock, or a garter. A sign proclaimed this “The Shoe -Tree,” and another sign invited the beholder to “Help Yourself.” - -In one canoe they laid, in two neat piles, Harry’s and Gordon’s -clothing, shoes and all, and upon them a sign which read: - - FOR THE OAKWOOD SCOUTS - TO COME HOME IN - (BE SURE TO SIT IN THE MIDDLE) - -Then, after Frankie had contemplated his work admiringly for fully half -a minute, the Elephant Patrol pushed off the boat, and towing the two -canoes behind, turned their prow gleefully upstream and rowed away with -the official banner of the Elephants flaunted gayly at their stern. - -Meanwhile, the afternoon “soak” had begun. The lake was narrow at this -point and across the water they could see the Vermont shore rising -gradually, and beyond the Green Mountains, onetime home of the -adventurous Ethan Allen. The little Lake Champlain steamer, making a -prodigious racket for its insignificant size, came tooting down, and a -deckful of summer tourists waved their handkerchiefs to the boys. On the -shore stood an old, disused railroad water tank (for the railroad hugs -the shore here), and across the top of the butt which stood on lofty -spindles the boys had fastened a springy board for diving. - -Scarcely had they reached the shore when every one of them was splashing -in the water. Gordon found it much warmer than at the sea beach where he -was used to bathing. But he was a novice at swimming and, despite the -pleasure he took in bathing, had been slow to pick up the art. He -explained this by saying that he “tried to think of things” while in the -water and could not give his undivided attention to it. - -“What’s the matter, Oakwood?” Brownell asked, as Gordon came out, wiping -the water from his eyes. - -“My, but they smart!” answered Gordon. - -“That’s because you keep them open when you go under—trying to pick up -trails, I suppose.” - -“Tails?” gasped Gordon, wringing out his hair. - -“No—_trails_,” said Brownell; “didn’t you know you can follow a fish’s -trail?” - -Gordon grinned. - -“Sure,” said Atwell, always to the fore when there was any jollying -afoot; “that is, _some_ fishes’; they say it’s almost impossible to -follow a shark’s trail.” - -“Stow that, Atwell,” said the Hyenas’ corporal. Then, turning to Gordon, -“Better shut your eyes when you go under; guess you’re used to surf -bathing, hey? Well, that’s the reason. The eyes are used to salt -water—it doesn’t hurt them. Don’t you know the secretions of the eye -are salty? Tears never hurt you, did they?” - -This was plausible enough, but seeing that it was a Hyena who spoke, -Gordon was on his guard. - -“He never sheds tears,” called Harry, who was sitting astride the diving -board. “Come on up and have a dive.” - -Soon they were launching themselves, one after another, from the height -of twenty feet into the lake. Brownell had the stiff dive to perfection, -his straight body turning so as to bring his head down into the water -like an arrow. Atwell did the “drop” to the admiration of all, falling -limp and lifeless, till he almost reached the water, then straightening -out like magic. The clown element was furnished by Gordon, who came up -each time choking and sputtering, but with a grin always on his face. -None of his calculations for reaching the water panned out, but he -managed to get there each time in some fashion. - -“What do you call that one?” one of the boys asked him. - -“That’s the celebrated roly-poly tumble, I guess,” volunteered Brownell. -“Here’s a good one.” He sprang sideways, maintaining the position till -he almost reached the water, then swerved about. - -“Good,” said Harry. “Ever do this one?” - -He stood a moment on the end of the board, sprang high, turned a -complete backward somersault, and sank into the water feet first and -hands high in air. - -“That was simply great!” Atwell shouted. - -“Try this one,” said Harry, as he clambered off the ladder on to the -plank. Placing his feet on the very end of the board, he allowed himself -to fall to a horizontal position, rolled in the air like a hoop slightly -opened at one side, and pierced the water turning like a wheel. - -“Fine! Magnificent!” said Brownell, as Harry clambered up again to take -his place beside the others who were sitting along the board with their -feet dangling into the butt. - -“That fellow over there,” said one of the Hyenas, “makes more noise than -a ferry-boat.” He pointed to a canoe out in the lake which was occupied -by a young man and a small boy. The boy was waving his handkerchief -ecstatically in applause of Harry’s feat, and his companion was -splashing the water with his paddle, apparently for the same purpose. As -they watched, they saw the young man ship the paddle, rise, step toward -the middle of the canoe, lift what appeared to be a red sweater and wave -it. Suddenly he staggered, and the next thing the boys saw was an -overturned canoe, a lot of paraphernalia, and two figures sprawling -desperately in the water. - -Harry had risen and without a single word walked across the knees of the -other boys and disappeared, before the canoeists were really in the lake -and before the other boys had moved. He did not stop to dive or even to -jump, he simply walked off the end of the board. Then Brownell, who was -at the outer end of the board, dived, but by that time Harry had almost -reached the small boy, who was uttering pitiable cries. The young man -had managed to get from deep water and stood chest deep near the farther -shore, wringing his hands and screaming like a girl. - -As Harry neared the boy the floundering figure disappeared and he -waited. Presently it rose logily, heavily, the head back. “That’s -right,” said Harry, “keep your head back and don’t move.” The only -response was a scream and a panic-stricken clutch for Harry’s wrist. He -loosened the small hand easily by turning his thumb against its wrist, -but the boy’s two hands went convulsively to his neck, clinging -desperately. He put his arm around the little fellow’s waist and his -other hand, palm upward, under the chin, the tips of his fingers -reaching the boy’s nose. Then he pulled and pushed jerkily. In a moment -the little hands let go their hold. Like lightning, the boy was turned, -almost brutally, as it seemed, and Harry was behind him again, his arms -under the little fellow’s armpits, grasping each hand as it tried -convulsively to clutch him, and making for the shore. - -“Is he all right?” called Brownell, who, with one or two others, was -almost across. - -“Is he dead? Oh, is he dead?” gasped the young fellow who had been his -companion. Harry paid no attention to the question, nor to the excited -youth, but helped the boy to get rid of the water he had swallowed and -tried to calm him. - -“You’re all right,” said he; “and see how nice and clean your hands and -face are. Where do you live?” - -“He lives right up the hill in that handsome mansion,” volunteered the -boy’s friend, who lisped and panted out his words excitedly with -chattering teeth. He wore a gorgeous silk outing shirt, a neckerchief -with ends tied loosely and hanging in a way of studied nonchalance, and -a silly little trinket in the way of a compass hung on a lanyard about -his neck. He was the true amateur camper, put together in a -sporting-goods store, and now presented a ridiculous appearance as he -stood shivering and dripping. Even his jack-knife, which might easily -have been carried in his pocket, was suspended on a little silver hook -from his belt. - -“His people are extremely well-to-do,” he explained in his rapid, -lisping voice. “I am a guest there myself; I have not the slightest -doubt they will reward you suitably for your bravery.” - -Harry surveyed him curiously, but did not answer. “What’s your name, -sport?” he asked the boy, who was gradually getting possession of his -senses. - -“His name is Danforth—Penfield Danforth,” spoke up the summer -sportsman; “he’s a delicate boy, father thinks the world of him, -youngest child and all that sort of thing. Poor little codger, he seems -to be quite upset. I—” - -“Oh, let up,” Harry broke out. - -“Pardon me?” - -“He was upset, all right,” laughed Atwell. - -“Yes, indeed, in more ways than one,” said the young man, smiling. - -“Well, I guess you’d better take him home,” said Harry. “There’s your -canoe down there under that tree; you can get it later. Take him up and -get him something hot to drink.” - -“I was very much impressed with your diving,” said the young man, -“especially that last one—” - -“I guess you can get him up the hill, all right?” said Harry. - -“Indeed, yes, but I must ask your name. Mr. Danforth will, no doubt, -wish to communicate with you.” He pulled out a little blank book with a -red morocco cover, somewhat draggled from his plunge, and a pencil -pocket along its edge. On the cover was printed in gold letters, _My -Summer in the Woods_. - -Harry eyed it amusedly. - -“Your name, please?” - -“Buffalo Bill,” said Harry. - -“I’m afraid you’re joking. May I ask yours?” - -“Daniel Boone,” said Atwell. - -He dropped the book on its cord. “Well, we shall be able to find you -anyway; you can’t hide your light under a bushel.” - -Harry helped the boy to his feet, and watched the pair make their way up -toward a large house with spacious lawns that crowned a hill a little -way back from the shore. Then the boys swam across the lake and made for -the little grove where they had left the Elephants. - -“What the dickens is this?” said one. He was standing in front of a sign -which read: - - CAN’T GET AWAY TO DIG BAIT FOR - YOU TO-DAY, MY PATROL WON’T LET ME. - -“And look at this one, will you?” said the amazed Atwell. - -“Here’s another,” called Brownell. - -They walked about reading the various signs which Frankie had lost a -night’s sleep to manufacture. - -“Well, what do you think of that?” said Brownell, as they stood -surveying the “shoe tree.” “The little imps! I wonder how many pairs -they’ve left?” - -“Haven’t left any, of course; they’re all odd shoes.” - -Meanwhile, Gordon and Harry had discovered the canoe and begun quietly -to put on their clothes. - -The others gathered about and looked on enviously. “You fellows must -have a pull with Frankie,” said one. “Going to give us a ride home?” - -“Two of you can come,” answered Harry, “two light-weights. I don’t think -it would be quite safe with Brownell or Atwell.” He was not going to -lessen Frankie’s triumph any more than necessary and he knew that these -two were the chief targets of Frankie’s vengeance. Two of the Hyenas -lost no time in getting in, and while the others were wandering here and -there, ruefully surveying the Elephants’ handiwork, Gordon and Harry -pushed off. - -“Hey, Oakwood, take these shoes and things, will you?” came from the -shore. But Harry was almost in midstream and making a great splash with -his paddle, and was discreetly unable to hear. - -Two hours later, Frankie sat on a camp chair before the Elephants’ tent, -playing dominoes with Giant George. His faithful corporal stood at his -elbow. - -“Here they come,” said Giant George, in an undertone. Frankie glanced -covertly up at a sight which gladdened his heart. The Hyenas, in their -bathing trunks, each one carrying a single shoe, were straggling to -their stronghold. The perspiration dripped from them, for the heat was -intense and their long walk home had been under a broiling sun. The -Elephants had thoughtfully relieved them even of their hats and caps. - -Mr. Wade and Al Wilson stood in the path, talking. The scoutmaster had a -twinkle in his eye as the procession passed, and even the sober Al could -not repress a smile. - -“What are you going to do about it?” he asked. - -“Nothing,” said Mr. Wade, chuckling. “I don’t want to be drawn into -these political broils.” - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - SHADES OF THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS - - -During the boys’ absence, a doctor from Ticonderoga had visited Walter -Lee, and pronounced his injuries comparatively slight, predicting a -quick recovery. A sheriff had come out with him, secured the best -description he could of the robber, and, satisfied who the fellow was, -had gone in search of him. But the bird had flown, as he informed Mr. -Wade on his way back. Harry was not altogether sorry to hear this, for -he had not been able to get the wretched young man’s mother out of his -thoughts. - -That night as they sat around the camp-fire the conversation turned upon -the history of the old Fort Ticonderoga and its capture by the patriot, -Ethan Allen, in the early days of the War of Independence. - -“He was a queer old fellow,” said Mr. Wade, who was always “great” at -camp-fire, “but I’ve never been able to make out how he did that trick. -There he was, a backwoods farmer, up in Bennington, Vermont, which was -then a wilderness, with a pack of lumbering backwoodsmen following him -about. Why, half of them didn’t have firearms, and half the guns they -had didn’t work. I understand they used to use their swords to hoe -potatoes. A uniform would have been a curiosity. They were simply a -parcel of big, burly, ignorant farmers, strong just as an ox is strong, -and almost as stupid. Allen had some wit, though. Well, finally the news -works up that way that the colonists are going to war. Up jumps old -Allen, and says he, ‘Come on, let’s go over there and take those two -forts. Crown Point and Ticonderoga.’ - -“They were loafing around the village store, talking about liberty and -tyranny and all that sort of thing. ‘It’s a go,’ said Seth Warner, who -was as reckless as Allen himself. ‘I’m with you,’ piped up the sheriff. -‘Me too,’ called another, and they got ready, chose Allen leader, and -came right down through to Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga.—Put another -log on the fire, and rake her up a bit, will you, Cattell? - -“Well, sir, there was one man who happened along, and he had some -military training, but they had no use for him—said he was nothing but -a soldier, and that was young Benedict Arnold, who turned traitor before -the end of the war. But they let him go along. Now, history tells us -that this pack of rough farmers, I don’t know just how many, brought up -on the shore right opposite Ticonderoga and Allen made them a great -speech. Then they appropriated a few dories that happened to be moored -about, for transports. - -“That was long after midnight. They kept crossing and recrossing till -daylight, bringing the men over. You know, the fort, garrisoned by -English regulars, was scarcely two hundred feet from the shore. And this -thing was going on right under Captain Delaplace’s nose till daylight. -Then the whole crowd started up the hill, overpowered the sentry, -marched in, and Allen called upstairs for Delaplace to come down. - -“‘What for?’ says Delaplace. ‘For me,’ says Allen; ‘I want the surrender -of this fort.’ ‘In whose name?’ called down the Captain, his nightcap -bobbing over the stairs. ‘In the name of the great Jehovah and the -Continental Congress,’ shouted Allen. And according to all accounts, the -Captain immediately surrendered the fort. Then, as if that wasn’t -enough, Seth Warner finished the job by taking Crown Point Fort in the -same way. And the Americans held them till General Burgoyne came down -through this country and retook them. - -“Now, all things together, I say the whole thing was impossible!” - -“It was done,” said Al Wilson, quietly. - -“I know, Al,” said Mr. Wade, “but it was impossible just the -same—couldn’t be done.” - -There was a great laugh, and Fred Brownell said: “You’re like the old -farmer that went to the menagerie and saw a camel for the first time. -He’d seen dromedaries with one hump before, but when he came to the real -camel with two humps he stood and looked at it for a few minutes in -amazement with his mouth wide open. Then he let out, ‘Gosh, ther ain’t -no such animal!’” - -“Those farmers were full of patriotism,” ventured a boy, when the -laughter had subsided. - -“Yes, and patriotism will carry one a long way,” said the scoutmaster; -“but I could never understand that capture—that and Paul Jones’s -victory. We’ll look over the ground when we go down there; the doctor -told me this morning that he’d see if he couldn’t get us permission to -camp a week or so right in the old fort. They say an old underground -passage to the lake is still there.” - -Harry had listened carelessly to all this, but now an idea came to him. - -“You mean to camp in the old fort, sir?” he asked. - -“That’s the idea, if we can get permission. We’ll pick up here about the -middle of August and spend our last two weeks on historic ground. You -know, they’ve been restoring the old fortress after a fashion. A -patriotic woman became interested in it, and they’ve made quite a fort -of it. You two boys ought to see it. You know, old Ticonderoga has a -great history. It played a part in the bloody French and Indian War, -passed from the French to the English, then to the Americans when Ethan -Allen took it, then back to the English when Burgoyne took it, then -finally back to the Americans again. And now the Boy Scouts propose to -occupy it! - -“We’ll explore the old Trout Brook where young Lord Howe was killed by -the Indians. I believe I can pick out the very spot.” - -“Then you do admit Ethan Allen took it?” smiled Harry. - -“Well, in a way,” laughed the scoutmaster, “according to history, yes; -according to reason and common sense, no.” Then, more seriously, he -added, “There are some things in history, freakish things, which are -theoretically impossible, but which are done. Paul Jones’s great battle -is one. The storming of Stony Point by Mad Anthony Wayne is another.” - -“Washington put him up to that,” protested Al Wilson. - -“No, he didn’t, Al; Washington told him to go ahead if he wanted to, and -Wayne, who was as crazy as a March hare, went ahead.” - -“And succeeded,” finished Al. - -“Yes, but logically he oughtn’t to have succeeded,” laughed Mr. Wade, -“and Ethan Allen ought not to have succeeded. There was something wrong -somewhere. If I were a military man and had a force of regular soldiers -under me in that old fort, do you suppose a pack of undrilled -backwoodsmen could land under my very nose, fire off a patriotic speech, -and take the fort without the loss of a single life or the shedding of a -drop of blood? No sirree!” - -They all laughed at his good-natured vehemence, and he laughed himself, -for at such times he was no more than a boy among them. - -“Oh, but it was great, though!” cried Gordon. Harry said nothing; he was -idly whittling a stick, and thinking. He hoped Gordon would not have the -same thought, and blurt it out. He was thinking that if this thing could -be done once without the shedding of a drop of blood, it could be done -again. - -“The last two weeks in August,” he said to himself. “I wonder what Red -Deer will think of it.” - -It was natural enough after this that the camp-fire “yarns” should turn -on the history of the famous lake, of the old forts at Ticonderoga and -Crown Point, and the story of the reckless, adventurous Ethan Allen and -his Green Mountain Boys. Thus the evening passed, the cheerful fire -crackling and lighting up the solemn woods and shining upon the faces of -the merry company. They sat later than usual, in honor of the two guests -who were to bid them farewell in the morning. - -Gordon and Harry had the tepee to themselves, and the next day, early, -they took their leave of the hospitable camp. But first they went in to -see Walter Lee, who was to sit up that day. They had seen but little of -Collins, the “First Aid” boy, and now the three sat about the injured -scout’s couch and talked. Harry liked Collins immensely. When they rose -to go and had shaken hands with Walter, Harry lingered a moment. “I want -to ask you a question,” he said. “You remember when you passed us in the -train, you made me the full salute? How did you know I was patrol -leader?” - -Walter’s hand went up to a slightly frayed buttonhole in Harry’s flannel -shirt. “I guess that’s where you fasten the lanyard of your patrol -whistle, isn’t it?” - -Harry smiled. “You’ll do,” said he. - -Gordon paused to lean down and speak confidentially to the invalid. “We -can’t make him wear a belt,” he said, “and he won’t wear a khaki coat, -either. He’s very funny about some things; well, good-by.” - -Mr. Wade gave them a letter to be delivered to Dr. Brent, _alias_ Red -Deer, and bade them a hearty good-by, with many hints to be used in -their search for the needle in the haystack. The three patrols stood -together and gave them a great send-off. But not the full troop, either, -for seated by the roadside over the hill, they came upon Frankie and his -faithful follower, Giant George. - -“What did you think of that scheme yesterday?” said Frankie. - -“It was great,” answered Harry. - -“I thought up all those signs,” Frankie continued. - -“They were very clever, too,” Harry said. - -“I thought up that about the odd shoes, too.” - -“That was the best part; well, good-by, Frank.” - -They had gone perhaps a hundred yards when the piping voice of Giant -George was heard in rebellious altercation with his leader, and -presently a frantic shout from him brought them to a halt. - -“I thought up that about the odd garters!” he shouted. - -“Good for you, George!” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - AN EXTRAORDINARY INVENTION - - - (Patent not applied for) - -They cut up through the woods where Gordon had picked his way to the -Albany camp, for he wanted to show Harry the chasm and the path he had -taken. - -“Now, Kid,” said Harry, “you will be kind enough to keep your beautiful -brown eyes straight ahead, or by the great eternal sphinx I’ll put a -pair of blinders on you. No more pink arrows! Just look ahead and listen -to me. We’ve got three things to do, and one of them is right in your -line. First, we’ve got to strike Crown Point and find the elderly lady -who lost this bag.” - -“How do you know she’s elderly, Harry?” - -“On account of the smelling salts. Then we’ve got to find the troop, and -if all goes well I’m going to give Mr. E. C. Wade the surprise of his -life. How would you like to be Ethan Allen?” - -“What!” said Gordon, the idea suddenly dawning on him. - -“Well, now,” Harry continued, “Ethan Allen was like you; he was the kind -of a fellow who could find a way.” - -“That’s like you, Harry.” - -“Well, but he liked to talk and make fine speeches, too, so I think it’s -up to you. Anyway, I’m going to put the idea up to Red Deer, if we can -root him out, and see if we can’t plan an assault. We’ll reconnoiter the -locality, send a couple of scouts in, then go over into Vermont, -transport our men in dories right under Mr. Wade’s nose, gag his -sentries (he’ll have some out, you can wager), and enter the fort, call -upstairs and give him Allen’s speech about Jehovah and the Continental -Congress. Exactly how we’ll take the fort is a thing I’ll have to think -out and talk over with Red Deer. But so far, how does it strike you?” - -Gordon was radiant. “It’s great, Harry! It’s simply fine! And I read in -a book—the school history—that after it was all over Ethan Allen and -Seth Warner made a trip to Philadelphia and received the thanks of -Congress; and we’ll do that too, Harry, we—” - -“I don’t just see how we could do that,” said Harry. - -“Yes, we could, Harry; there’s a way. My uncle belongs to a club where -there’s a man who knows a senator, and he—” - -“Now just come down to earth,” said Harry. “Do you suppose Allen was -figuring on the thanks of Congress before he did anything? You’re a nice -kind of patriot!” - -They had reached the chasm and explored it together. Harry found a strip -of wood which had evidently held the three logs together when they -spanned the gully, and found that it contained several nails exactly -like the telltale one whose impressions he had followed. He even found -another one lying in the mud. - -“It’s seldom a man commits a crime,” he said, “without either taking or -leaving something that he doesn’t mean to. Sometimes it isn’t large -enough to convict him. Sometimes it’s so small that it escapes notice. -But a hundred to one, he takes or leaves something. Come on, let’s get -away from here. You did great work, Kid.” - -That was the last that Harry ever said, voluntarily, about the sordid -crime. He seemed disgusted at all mention of it and anxious to forget -it. - -Emerging on the road where Gordon had seen the pink arrow, they started -north for their belated ascent of Dibble Mountain. Their purpose was to -get an outlook from its summit and go down its northern slope into the -little village of Crown Point. They had almost reached the point where -the stream ran under the road in its journey to the lake, when they -heard voices ahead, and presently came in sight of a country boy leaning -over the railing of the bridge and talking to some one below. - -“Never heerd o’ no sech feller outside a book. I seen a book onct with a -guy by the name o’ Dan’l Boone onto it, but I never heerd tell o’ no -sech a feller in these parts; there’s a Dan’l Berry over to -Hammondville. How’s that?” - -A voice answered from below, but Harry and Gordon could not hear what it -said. - -“Oh, why didn’t ye say so?” the country boy called down. “Kind o’ -play-actin’ folks, was they?” - -By this time the boys had reached the bridge. Underneath, rocking gently -in the water, was the handsomest motor boat that Harry Arnold had ever -seen. Its brass trimmings shone dazzling in the morning sunlight. -Cushions of scarlet plush covered its seats, their vivid color thrown -into relief by the color of the boat itself, which was as white as snow. -Also as white as snow was the mustache of the gentleman who occupied it, -and the eyes which met those of Gordon and Harry as they looked down -were genial with just the suggestion of a humorous twinkle. He wore a -linen suit, very much wrinkled, and very much wrinkled, also, was the -kindly face, and rather scanty were the gray locks that showed under the -little blue yatching cap which he wore. A young man in chauffeur’s -attire sat near the engine with his hand on the steering-gear. - -“Good morning,” said the gentleman. “How far can I get with this thing?” - -“Not much farther, I’m afraid,” answered Harry. “How much does she -draw?” - -“Now, you’ve got me,” said the gentleman, laughing. “How much does she -draw, Pat?” - -Pat shook his head. - -“She draws about twenty dollars a week in the summer,” said the -gentleman, “and if she were mine, I’d discharge her.” - -“What seems to be the trouble?” laughed Harry. - -“The trouble,” responded the gentleman, merrily, “is between herself and -my son—it’s not my quarrel. She is occasionally taken with carburitis, -which is a complaint of the carbureter. To-day she’s doing very nicely, -thank you. Do either of you boys know where the Boy Scouts have their -camp—how far up this stream? I’m trying to get to them.” - -“We just came from there,” Harry answered. “They’re about two miles up, -but I’m afraid you’ll have to foot it. It’s pretty shallow and rocky -from here on.” - -The gentleman put on his glasses. “Oh, yes,” said he, “I might have -noticed. Is that a blue shirt you’ve got on? The sun is right in my -eyes—you tall fellow, I mean?” - -“It’s supposed to be blue,” laughed Harry. - -“He’s got a khaki one,” added Gordon, “but he never wears it.” - -“You belong up there, I suppose?” - -“No, sir, we’ve been making them a visit. We’re a couple of tramps just -now.” - -“Is that a leather wristlet you’ve got?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, just come—no, wait a minute—I’ll come up there.” - -“Stay where you are, sir,” answered Harry. “We’ll come down.” - -He led the way down as if he expected to be charged with a crime. He -suspected what was coming. - -“Come in here, my boy—you too. My name is Robert E. Danforth. I have a -place across the lake. You saved my boy’s life yesterday—don’t attempt -to deny it! You’re the very boy I’m looking for. Did you give your name -as Buffalo Bill? You did—don’t deny it! Who are you, anyway? Why didn’t -you come up to the house so that we could thank you? Do you realize what -you did?” - -Harry had hoped that he might hear nothing more of the incident, but -there was nothing now for him to do but face the music. - -Mr. Robert E. Danforth, according to gossip, had begun life with nine -cents, and he now had nine million dollars. It was not likely that such -a man would permit the modesty of a boy scout to stand in the way of his -purpose. And his purpose now was to make suitable acknowledgment to the -boy who had saved his little son’s life. In the winter Mr. Danforth -worked very hard; in the summer he played very hard, and this was his -play season. - -He would hear of nothing but that the two boys should go back with him -to Overlook, his magnificent estate on the Vermont shore. So the boat’s -prow was turned downstream and the little craft went chugging out -through the reedy basin and across the lake toward a beautiful -boat-house surmounted by an octagonal cupola, in one of the open arches -of which they could see a small figure. They were halfway across when -suddenly a white object shot from the cupola and dropped into the water -a few feet from the boat. - -“Get it, Pat,” said Mr. Danforth, and the boat was steered over to the -floating object, which Harry reached for and secured. It was a little -aeroplane, crude enough in construction, having a plane about twenty -inches long, on which dried glue, somewhat sticky now from the plunge, -appeared in untidy masses. But as Harry lifted it, the propeller, which -was nothing but one of those celluloid fans which shoot into the air -when twisted from between the hands, began to revolve with a steady, -even motion, continuing for fully half a minute. Mr. Danforth smiled as -Harry examined it. - -“He thinks he’s going to revolutionize juvenile aeronautics,” said the -father. - -“Well, I don’t know but what he will!” said Harry. “What is this, -anyway?” - -“It’s the alarm apparatus from a clock.” - -The mechanism was bound with thread under the center of the plane. The -brass frame which encased a set of clockwork had been filed into and -broken off, so that nothing was left but a little corner of frame -holding a small clock spring, one little cogwheel, and the catch and -release teeth which create and govern the vibration of the upright -striking bar. The little metal knob, or striker, on the top of the bar -had been twisted off and, since its weight modified the striking action, -its removal created an excess of power which was here taken up by the -propeller. This latter was rather clumsily connected with the mechanism -by a light, flat-linked brass chain which ran around the cogwheel. The -trouble with the whole affair was its weight, which, though small, might -easily have been reduced still further. - -They had now reached the boat-house, where the man jumped out and hauled -the craft in between two others, one a beautiful steam yacht. The other, -about the size of an ordinary rowboat, was covered with canvas. The -little boy whom Harry had rescued met them on the stairs, his eyes -glistening with tears. - -“It’s the twenty-third time it wouldn’t go,” he said. - -“Never mind, my boy,” said his father, putting his arm affectionately -over the little fellow’s shoulder. “Maybe it will go next time.” - -“Twenty-three’s a hoodoo number, anyway,” added Harry. “Why do you send -it over the water?” - -“Because if it flies across the lake, I’ll win the cup. But it won’t—it -never does.” - -“Well, Pat will row out and get it for you every single time,” said his -father, soothingly. - -“It’ll get spoiled—it’s spoiled now—the ones you buy go.” He almost -broke out crying, and Mr. Danforth looked as if the little fellow’s -disappointment actually hurt him. - -“I was all this week and two days of last week making it—and it’s -spoiled.” He set his lips tight in a manly effort to control his -distress. - -Harry stepped forward, placing his arm over the boy’s shoulder as his -father had done. “You remember me?” he said in his quiet way. “Well, -now, you listen a minute. Never mind if your machine is spoiled, you’ve -still got the idea and it’s a mighty good one, too. You can work it up -again and make it still better.” He smiled encouragingly and patted the -little fellow’s shoulder. The father was delighted. - -“Hear that, Pen? This is the boy who got you out of the water -yesterday—come to see how you are—maybe he can give you some ideas. -Take him up to the aviation tower and show him things—show him the -cup.” He winked at Harry. “I want you boys to stay here till to-morrow,” -he called after them as Penfield led the way upstairs, “as a favor to -me.” - -“I’m afraid we’ll never find our friends unless we get about it,” Harry -protested. - -“Well, one day won’t make any difference. I want a chance to talk to -you. Come up to the house when you’ve seen his den.” - -Penfield led them into a little octagonal room, littered thick with -shavings, pieces of silk, tangled masses of reed, and a fishing rod -which had been laid under contribution for strips of bamboo. Magazine -cuts of the various types of air craft, the Curtis, the Voisin, the -Cody, and the Wright, were tacked on the wall. - -“That’s the Voisin,” said Penfield, excitedly, as Harry stood before the -picture. “It looks like the Wright, but it isn’t, it’s got more -longitudinal stability on account of the enclosed ends and partitions. -But it can’t coast like the Wright. I like monoplanes best, don’t you? -That’s the Bleriot. You can flex the tips of the planes, that’s one -thing about it I like. Pat likes the Antoinette model, but I don’t. The -Curtis is my favorite,—only, of course, that’s a biplane. You can’t -make a toy biplane fly, it needs too much control. But the Curtis is my -favorite. It’s the lightest of all, but that isn’t why I like it. And it -has the best finish, but that isn’t why I like it, either. It’s the -control; you lift and decline the fore planes by shifting the steering -wheel. And the balance is controlled by moving your body sideways. Isn’t -that a dandy idea? But I like the Wright brothers—my, I’d like to see -them!” - -“Well, they began just like you,” said Harry. - -There was one thing he noticed in particular as he picked up the broken -and unfinished models that lay about. The most common, everyday objects -had been used for some practical purpose. A circular typewriter eraser -acted as wheel to a cog chain. Metal paper clips were used to hold -joints. The circular, hollow bar of a gas jet held together and served -as ferrule and fore-weight to the three dowel sticks forming a -motor-base. The boy seemed to have his own way of doing everything, and -everything he had done was ingenious. - -On a rough bracket, six feet or so above the floor, stood a battered -pewter stein. - -“That the cup?” Harry asked. - -“Yes, that’s it, but I can’t touch it—not till I’ve won it.” - -“Who offered it?” Gordon asked. - -“I did, but I make believe it was a club. I’m trying to win it—it’s a -trophy. I can’t even touch it till my monoplane flies across the lake.” - -Gordon would have laughed, but he encountered Harry’s look, and -refrained. - -“Well, now, let’s see,” Harry said, sitting down and taking the little -model on his knees. “I think we’re just the fellows for you. You’ve -heard of the Boy Scouts, I suppose. Well, we belong to the Scouts of -Oakwood, New Jersey, and there’s an aero club in our troop—” - -“Oh, my father’s building a house there,” cried the boy. - -“Where—Oakwood?” - -“Yes, we’re going to live there this Fall when it’s finished. We’re not -going to live in the city any more.” - -“Do you suppose he means the big house they’re putting up on the hill?” -Harry asked of Gordon. - -“Yes, it’s on the hill,” Penfield spoke up, “and I’m going to sleep -outdoors.” - -“Well, that’s news,” said Harry. “I wondered who was putting up that -house.” - -“Yes, and may I join your aero club—if I make one that goes?” - -“You certainly may!” said Harry. “You can join the troop, and then if -you are interested in aeroplanes you can join the little club six of the -boys have formed. There’s going to be a big meet in Oakwood this Fall; -any boy that lives in the county can enter his ’plane—provided he made -it. I believe the _Oakwood News_ is offering a cup, too, isn’t it, -Gordon? I don’t know very much about aeros myself.” - -“He does too,” said Gordon. - -Penfield was delighted. Excitedly he explained his crude little model to -Harry. And Harry saw that the novel motive power which he had used held -vast possibilities. He wound up the spring and found that the power -sustained the propeller in rapid motion for thirty-four seconds. - -“Twelve seconds is the best ever done with elastic band torsion,” said -Penfield. It was evident that he had been studying the subject. - -“Well, then,” said Harry, in a brown study. “I don’t see why we should -lose those twelve seconds. Let’s see, twelve and thirty-four make -forty-six. Forty-six seconds in the air will beat any model airship ever -made. Say that you lose six seconds for the transfer of power—there you -have forty left.” - -“What do you mean?” asked both boys. - -“Why, see here. The way they run these things usually—those you buy as -well as the home-made ones—is by a long, thin strand of elastic from -the axis of the propeller to a stationary hook. Wind the propeller and -it winds the elastic—there’s your power. Now, see this little jigger -here?” He put his finger on the upright wire bar on which the striker of -the alarm had been mounted. “This vibrates rapidly while the spring is -unwinding. Now, suppose you bend the top of it into a hook, wind up your -elastic, then wind up your spring. This striker bar will hold the wound -spring stationary until the power of the elastic is exhausted. As soon -as the elastic is run down, the spring goes to work. There are half a -dozen ways to connect the spring movement with the propeller—the catch -chain is one. You’ll have to work it out. I give you the tip—the name -is also thrown in—it’s the celebrated Strikastic Multiple Motor, -producing a sustained flight of about forty seconds. ‘Strike’ stands for -striker; ‘astic’ for elastic.” - -“Or you might call it the Clockubber Transfer Motive System—that brings -in clock and rubber,” said Gordon. “Or better still, the Penalarm -Torsubber Champastic Double Motor—there you’ve got everything -in—Penfield, Alarm, Torsion, Rubber, Champlain, Elastic and—and—wait -a minute—” - -“No aeroplane could carry such a name as that,” said Harry, “it would -keel right over. Now, old boy,” he said to Penfield, “if I were you, I’d -take time and make this right, and I believe you’ll have a winner. Make -your plane bigger—thirty inches anyway, and flex it. You take a wooden -pie plate and see how much higher it goes than a flat disk. - -“Flex it this way” (he showed with pencil and paper); “then if I were -you I’d have the sticks of your motor-base, or backbone, as you might -call it, just wide enough apart to wedge this clockwork business -between; it’ll stand rigid and you’ll get rid of a lot of friction. You -might take away the brass frame altogether and line the wooden casing -with aluminum. You’ve got to have the spring farther aft than this so as -to have a good long span of elastic. I don’t know what will happen up in -the air when the power is transferred. Your propeller will probably slow -down a second or two; you’ve got to experiment with that. Your -difficulty is going to be in utilizing the power supplied by the spring -by some light, simple mechanism. Cogwheels eat up a lot of energy—but -there’s a way, as my old college chum here would say, and it’s up to -you.” - -The boy stood radiant as they rose to go. - -“Did _you_ think of using the alarm apparatus?” Harry asked him. - -“Yes, but now I see what can be done with it—and—you’re a genius.” - -“No, _you’re_ the genius,” Harry answered; “you’d have worked it up this -way sooner or later. You see, your plane was too small for your motor; -then, again, this isn’t a first-rate propeller, it hasn’t enough slant.” - -“I know how to make one,” Penfield broke in. “You cut strips of -cigar-box wood, glue them on top of each other, put a nail in the -middle, then before they begin to dry, twist them a little, as you do -with a pack of cards. When the pile dries, whittle off the uneven edges, -and you’ve got a dandy propeller. It’s easier than trying to make one -out of one piece.” - -“How’d you learn that?” Harry asked. - -“Oh, I thought of it when I saw some one twist a pack of cards.” - -They went up a gravel walk which wound through the green lawn, and found -Mr. and Mrs. Danforth on the porch. Penfield disappeared and Mrs. -Danforth greeted the boys, thanking Harry profusely for his service to -her son. They found it was true that Mr. Danforth was building a house -in Oakwood and that the family were to go there early in the Fall. - -“We have done everything we could for Penfield,” said Mrs. Danforth. “We -bought this place so that he might have the mountain air, and we are -leaving New York for the same reason. Yet we can’t get him to go -outdoors and play with other boys. He would much rather sit in the house -and read. Last year the boys in Ticonderoga had a baseball eleven, the -small boys, and asked him to play quarterstop—” - -“Shortstop,” corrected her husband. - -“But we couldn’t get him to, he simply wouldn’t. And it was the same -with football. He _would not_ go on the frying pan.” - -“Gridiron,” said Mr. Danforth. - -“Diamond,” said Mrs. Danforth. - -“No, ‘diamond’ is in baseball.” - -“Well, then, where was it they wanted him to play quarterdeck?” - -“Quarterdeck is on a ship; Roger said something about quarterback, but -Pen couldn’t play quarter.” - -“Why don’t you have him join the scouts?” asked Gordon. - -“I wish you boys would take him in hand this Fall,” said Mr. Danforth. - -“He spends all his time indoors making aeroplanes and reading about -them.” - -“Well, that’s a good thing,” said Harry. “But he ought to get outdoors, -of course. I’ve been telling him about an aviation contest they’re -getting up in Oakwood, and he thinks he’d like to enter. Suppose we get -him to join the scouts after we all get home, and then—” - -“Do they shoot off guns?” asked Mrs. Danforth, looking fearfully at -Harry’s rifle. - -“Sometimes, but not the younger ones. It would be a great thing for your -boy.” - -The answer surprised him. “I think it would be splendid.” - -An hour later, as Mr. Danforth was showing the boys over the place, he -stopped abruptly. - -“You’ll stay over night with us?” Harry thanked him but said it was -impossible. He knew the house was full of guests; the tennis courts were -crowded with young people, among whom he could distinctly see the -valiant hero of the day before bobbing about, and he thought of his own -and Gordon’s very limited wardrobe. Then, too, they were anxious to lose -no more time. - -“Well, then,” said Mr. Danforth, “I won’t urge you, but you know you’re -welcome. Now I want to make some little acknowledgment for what you did -yesterday—something in the way of a trophy, as you might say.” He had -evidently sized Harry up with his wonted business shrewdness, and he -avoided the word “reward.” His tact did him small good, however. - -“I don’t think you could make any better acknowledgment than you have -done,” said Harry, feeling a trifle uncomfortable, as he always did when -any one praised him. He spoke in his customary careless tone, but his -nervous little smile seemed to say that he would like to have done with -all this. This uneasiness of the boy who was always so much the master -of himself was amusing. - -“Of course, it would be absurd,” Mr. Danforth continued, “to ask you if -you are fond of the water.” Gordon’s eyes opened wide and he listened -with rapt attention. “The boat we came across in was recently brought up -from New York. But before that my elder son, who is away at present, -ordered one which we tried, but found too small for our parties. In -fact, it’s nothing but a little motor-dory. It’s down by the boat-house -now, and I want you to tumble your freight into it and take it along -just to remember us by—or leave it here till you come back if you’d -rather.” There was an awkward pause. Gordon stood in terrible suspense. - -“I couldn’t do that, Mr. Danforth,” said Harry. “I don’t know how to -thank you, and if you knew how fond of the water I am, you’d see how the -idea of a present of that kind nearly turns my head. You’ve—you’ve hit -me in the weakest spot,” he said, kicking the gravel walk and smiling -ruefully, “but I can’t take it—I—I—just can’t.” - -“Why can’t you?” - -“Because it’s one of our rules to accept nothing for service to a -stranger. We have our own awards, honors, and of course we can try for -those. That’s different. Saving life isn’t always hard, anyway; the -little fellow isn’t heavy, and, well, I guess obeying rules is sometimes -harder. Maybe that’s the good thing about rules.” His foot still kicked -the gravel, nervously. - -“Now, look here, my boy, you listen to me. That’s all nonsense, and -what’s more, I don’t believe you understand the rule.” - -“Yes, I do, Mr. Danforth, it’s part of the law.” - -“Well, see how lawyers differ about the law,” he went on cheerfully, -“and besides, you can’t have a law that isn’t constitutional—you must -know that. Now here’s a rule which infringes on personal liberty, which -forbids _me_ to dispose of a boat that I don’t want. That isn’t fair, -now, is it?” - -“That’s right, Harry,” broke in Gordon, “we have no right to interfere -with personal liberty—no one would say that was right. We’d have no -right to even if we wanted to, Harry.” - -Harry laughed in spite of himself. - -“Last year,” Mr. Danforth went on, “I gave a thousand dollars to the -library out in the little Western town where I was born. They didn’t -refuse it. This year I gave five thousand dollars to help start a -hospital. They took it all right.” - -“Well,” said Harry, “if you wanted to do something for the Scout -organization, I couldn’t stop you, but—” - -Mr. Danforth seemed about to speak, then suddenly changed his mind, -studying Harry closely. The boy was not aware of the scrutiny, for his -eyes were on the ground. Neither did he know that he had put an idea -into this kindly gentleman’s shrewd mind. - -“What, for instance?” Mr. Danforth asked. - -“Oh, I don’t know; I didn’t just mean to say that.” - -“Is there any reward, or honor, as you call it, for doing a service to -the Boy Scouts?” - -“There is, yes, sir. But I think it’s only given in very rare cases. -There was one boy up in Maine who stopped a forest fire which threatened -a big summer pavilion that the organization owned. I think they made him -the award, but that’s the only case I’ve heard of. I think the rule -says, ‘rare and exceptional service,’ or something like that. My friend -here knows the regulations better than I do. I think that’s the only -case.” - -“What is it called?” - -“The gold cross,” said Harry. - -“Where is the headquarters of the organization?” - -“It’s in New York, sir,” said Gordon. - -“I see.” - -Penfield joined them, and they wandered down to the shore. “Let me show -you the boat, anyway,” Mr. Danforth urged. - -“I’d rather not, sir,” said Harry, hesitatingly. “I—well, I’d just -rather not.” Instinctively he held out his hand, and Mr. Danforth shook -it cordially. - -“There’s no use asking you to think it over?” - -“No, sir, but I don’t know how to thank you—I wish I did. You’ll let -Penfield join us in the Fall, won’t you?” - -“Of course, I want him to.” - -“He’s going to walk away with the prize cup,” Harry added. - -“Yes, and he’ll accept it, too,” was Mr. Danforth’s final shot, as the -two scouts got into the boat in which Pat was to take them across the -lake. - -“Good-by, Pen,” said Harry, shaking hands with the little fellow. “You -work up that idea now, and make your planes large enough, and don’t -forget to flex them the way I showed you—get some strips of whalebone. -We’ll be home when you get to Oakwood, and we’ll sail in and win that -trophy so easily it’ll be a shame to take it.” - -“He’s a mighty nice little fellow, and clever too,” Harry said, as they -crossed the lake. Gordon disdained to reply. Neither did he speak as -they left the boat and started across the quarter-mile stretch of flat -country toward Dibble Mountain. - -“Where are we going, anyway?” he finally demanded sullenly. - -“Up Dibble Mountain to spy round the country—where’d you think?” was -Harry’s cheery answer. - -“How’d _I_ know?” - -“Why, that was the idea, wasn’t it?” - -“I don’t care where we go.” - -“What’s the matter, Kid?” - -“Nothing the matter with _me_. Goodness, I can speak, can’t I!” - -“Well, what are you grouching about, then?” - -“Who’s grouching?” - -“You are; don’t you want to hunt up the troop?” - -“Oh, certainly, if you care to.” - -“We’d be a couple of gumps to go back home now.” - -“Well, there’s more than one way of being a gump.” - -“Refusing a boat, for instance? What do I want of a boat? I’ve got you -along, Kid, and that’s all I care about. I’d rather have you than twenty -boats. Come now, brace up, old man.” - -“You didn’t have sense enough to be convinced by reason. That was a fine -argument about the public library and the hospital.” - -“I know it, Kid. I don’t claim to have much sense—you’ll just have to -put up with me.” - -“You won’t gain anything, either,” Gordon continued spitefully. “My -father knows him; he belongs to a trust and he’ll manage to get around -the law all right.” - -“He’s a pretty shrewd business man, I should say,” Harry commented. - -“You bet he is, and he’ll think up a way.” - -“He’s like you, Kid, eh?” - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - ON DIBBLE MOUNTAIN - - -The belated quest of the needle in the haystack now went forward in real -earnest. In the cool of that same afternoon they stood on the brow of -Dibble Mountain. Gordon’s hands were dyed purple from the berries he had -picked and eaten along the way, and a goodly smootch ornamented his -cheek. Sometimes the ascent was so steep that they found the easiest way -was to “shinny” up the slender trees along the mountain side, and step -off on to the jutting cliffs. It was slow work. From a great bowlder -they finally looked down upon the surrounding country, which now, for -the first time, as Gordon said, actually did look like a map. - -To the east, and almost under them, as it seemed, was the lake, and -beyond it the green hills of western Vermont. On its northern side the -mountain sloped gradually, including Breed’s Hill and Sugar Hill in its -easy descent, and beyond these lay the little village of Crown Point. -Close on the west rose the great bulk of Buck Mountain, towering above -them and closing out their view. Five miles southward lay Ticonderoga, -and looking to the west of the village the boys followed an imaginary -course northward, trying to pick out in the dense woods the location of -the Albany camp. The several roads which they had traversed looked like -gray pencilings. - -Between them and the lofty Buck Mountain ran a high, walled valley, -almost a cañon indeed, known as Burgoyne’s Pass, for it was through this -valley that the British general led his army for the surprise of -Ticonderoga,—the army which, hungry and forlorn, was destined to -surrender to the Americans at Saratoga. Far in the north, but near -enough to see its outline clearly, rose Bald Knob, a veritable monarch -amid its great neighbors. Here and there thin columns of smoke rose, -suggesting pleasant habitations and reminding the hungry boys that it -was supper time. - -“Well, what do you think of our seats up in the family circle, Kid? -Pretty good view up here, hey?” - -“It’s A-No. 1! But I don’t see the troop, do you?” - -“Certainly, right over there.” - -“Not! That’s a church! Let’s take a squint through that field glass, -will you? Placing the telescope to his eye,” Gordon continued, suiting -the action to the word, “our young hero now proceeded to gaze round the -landscape, when suddenly—” - -“The bully, who was standing near,” interrupted Harry, also suiting his -action to the word, “gently took it from him.” - -“Ha! I will be even with you yet!” said Gordon, dramatically. - -“Kid, I think the best thing for us to do is to camp here for the night. -If the moon comes out, we can see pretty nearly the whole section of -country that I marked on the map—I mean we could see any smoke that -rose. This is the very nearest mountain to the shore. We can overlook -the low land immediately north and south. As for the west, that big -chunk of earth is in the way, but they wouldn’t be to the west. If we -have to go up Buck Mountain, we will. But to-night I think we’d better -perch here, and when these folks about the country get through supper -they’ll let their fires go out, and any smoke we see after that will be -from a camp-fire. There’s no use going west of that ridge, is there?” - -“What ridge?” - -“Why, we’re in the Champlain Valley; this mountain happens to be -standing almost alone, commanding north and south.” - -“Is it standing in the bottom of the valley, Harry?” - -“Yes.” - -“How about old shaggy-headed Buck, next door, here?” - -“That’s part of the ridge.” - -“I believe you’re honest, Harry, so I’ll take your word for all that.” - -“All right, we’ll stay here, then.” - -“But answer me one question, Harry, before I trust my fate to thee. -Where is the other side of the valley?” - -“Over in Vermont. The Green Mountains.” - -Gordon looked about. “Over there?” - -“Yes, but I’m not considering that side. I’m only considering this side -of the lake.” - -“You are splitting the valley down the middle like a piece of kindling -wood?” - -“Correct.” - -“Harry, you would not deceive me?” - -“I’ll _gag_ you in a minute.” - -“And this mountain is a kind of knot in the wood, Harry? Do all the -splitting you like, but for goodness sake, be careful—” - -Harry placed his hand over Gordon’s mouth, and by a dexterous movement -tumbled him on to the ground. “Get up now, and help pitch camp, and I’ll -make you a rice pudding with figs in it. How does that strike you?” - -“I can stand it if you can.” - -“No sooner said than stung,” observed Harry. - -Their first business was to find water, and this they soon discovered—a -crystal spring, ice cold, that bubbled temptingly up between the rocks. -While Gordon kindled a fire, Henry felled a small sapling and binding it -horizontally between two other saplings, in a sheltered spot, threw his -balloon silk shelter over it, drawing it diagonally toward the earth on -either side. Gordon kept up a running accompaniment as he busied himself -with the fireplace. - - “‘Oh, we are merry mountaineers, - And have no carking cares or fears.’ - -“What kind of a care is a carking care, Harry?” - -“Don’t know.” - -“One that’s made out of khaki, I guess—don’t you throw that! Roll that -green log this way, will you, Harold? Many thanks. Placing the green log -in a parallel position to the other one, our young hero now knelt -stealthily—” - -“Our young hero will never see home again if he isn’t careful,” said -Harry, as he tugged at the cover of a can. - -“When suddenly,” continued Gordon, “the bully—” - -But actions spoke louder than words. The bully let fly both camp -cushions, one after the other, and under this rapid fusillade “our young -hero” sank to the ground. - -“Coward! Coward!” he called. - -“Look here, Kid,” said Harry, standing over him and brandishing the can -opener, “I’ve got you on the top of this lonely mountain. My contract -provides that I shall accompany you in searching for camp. It does _not_ -include your old friend Alger, nor Harry Castleman, either. In just a -minute—” - -Gordon rose contritely. “What next—Harold?” - -“Put some water to boil.” - -They sat with their backs against the trunk of a large tree, and Gordon -admitted that fried bacon never tasted so good, and that nothing went so -well with it as pilot biscuit. “I don’t see what they have bread and -butter for, anyway,” said he. But his inventive genius would not long -remain satisfied with the fare which Harry provided, and presently he -was announcing luscious combinations. “I say, try this, Harry—it’s -simply great!” He handed Harry two slices of bacon with a fig between -them. When the rice pudding was served, words failed him. He ate it with -silent and serene delight. They topped off with squares of chocolate, on -one of which Gordon was on the point of pouring a little “fly-dope” by -way of experiment. - -When they had finished the meal, Gordon suggested “going back the way -they had come,” beginning with chocolate, thence to rice pudding, thence -to bacon; but Harry vetoed this novel plan. - -It was with considerable suspense that they awaited the rising of the -moon. As the twilight faded, the smoke which rose here and there in the -distance disappeared till no stir was visible on the horizon. The boys -knew that a cooking fire in the open, unless it were very close at hand, -would hardly be discernible, but they set their faith in the campfire of -huge logs, such as Red Deer had never tired of describing. About nine -o’clock Gordon, who had gone to the spring for water, came rushing back, -wildly pointing to a circling line of smoke in the southwest which was -thrown into clear relief against the moonlit sky. - -“Look, Harry, there they are!” he cried. - -“Yes, I saw that,” said Harry. “You see that little silvery streak just -beyond? That’s the stream. It’s the Albany camp. I’d like first rate to -be there with them, too.” - -“We’ll see them again,” said Gordon, somewhat crestfallen. - -“You bet,” Harry answered, “when we surprise them in the old fort.” - -“We’ll give them a jocular demonstration, all right, hey, Harry?” - -“Ocular!” said Harry. - -They played mumbly-peg in the moonlight, and discussed the proposed -attack upon the “British stronghold.” Gordon was for doing everything, -even to the smallest detail, with historical fidelity. “You must be sure -to call ‘What, ho!’ Harry, when Mr. Wade asks who it is, because that’s -in the book, and you must roll your r’s the way they do up in Vermont. I -wish we had an old rusty sword!” - -“What’ll we do with them when we’ve made them prisoners, Harry?” - -“That’ll be our chance to return their hospitality,” Harry answered. -“They’ll be the guests of the Green Mountain Boys, and Mr. Wade will -have to go away back and sit quietly down.” - -“Oh, it’ll be great!” said Gordon, with a positive groan of delight. “I -wish it was the last two weeks of August now!” - -“If we do it.” - -“_If_ we do it? Of course, we’ll do it!” - -It was ten o’clock or after when Gordon’s roaming vision was arrested by -a thin, gray line rising out of the black woods far to the north. Harry -got out his compass and found that it was a little west of north and, as -nearly as he could judge, five or six miles distant. He studied it -closely. - -“That’s it, sure,” said Gordon. - -“You might run up there and see,” Harry answered dryly. “I’ll wait till -you get back.” He got out his map and tried to determine the locality. -“Port Henry is eight or nine miles north of here, see?” he said. “It may -possibly come from there, but it’s not coming out of a chimney, I’m -almost certain. Of course, there’s no telling how far north it is, but -it’s probably this side of the high land which begins with Bulwagga -Mountain. I dare say it’s between Bulwagga and the shore. There’s a -stream there, too—Grove Brook—and that would attract them.” He studied -it long and carefully. “I don’t see any suggestion of lightness below -it, do you? It must be at least five miles off.” - -“Harry, I have an idea!” - -“Good for you.” - -“You know Red Deer’s rule—eleven o’clock sharp. We all agreed to it. -You remember what he said about not leaving any fire burning? Well, now, -if they smother that at eleven o’clock—I can just see Conway jumping up -like a little tin soldier and piling on green stuff as soon as Red Deer -gives the word. You’ll see, Harry, something will happen to that at -eleven o’clock!” - -Harry folded his map, took a piece of chocolate, and settled himself -comfortably against the tree trunk. “We’ll wait and see,” he said. - -The thin, distant column wavered in the moonlight, its top dissolving in -the air. Sometimes it was scarcely visible. As eleven o’clock drew near, -they watched it with growing suspense. The smoke in the southwest had -long since died away. For twenty minutes or so before the hour the boys -fancied that the column was losing somewhat in volume. Eleven o’clock -came—five—ten minutes after eleven and nothing happened. Gordon looked -puzzled. “I—I guess, maybe, Red Deer’s watch is wrong,” he said. - -“Look!” shouted Harry, jumping to his feet. - -The thread of smoke had suddenly expanded into a dense mass. They could -see it plainly now. - -“We’ve found them! We’ve found them!” shouted Gordon. - -“When our young hero gets over his fit,” said Harry, “I will gently -remind him that we have _not_ found them at all. There is something -going on up in that direction—there seems to be a fire. That’s all we -know.” But they watched the thickening mass intently. “Well,” said -Harry, “we may as well obey the rule, Kid; let’s turn in. In the morning -we’ll cut up through Crown Point village and camp on high ground -to-morrow night.” - -“No, _sir_! We’ll go straight—” - -“Where?” - -“To that—to camp.” - -“Yes, but where?” - -“Right where that smoke is.” - -“There won’t be any smoke there to-morrow morning. Where do you propose -to go? Can you point me out on the map just where that smoke is? Well, -then, come down out of your airship and listen to reason. If to-morrow -is very clear we may possibly be able to pick out the smoke of the cook -fire—assuming that that’s our own camp. But I don’t think there’s much -chance of our seeing it. That smoke has been coming from several -good-sized logs—it’s a big fire. To-morrow we’ll drop into Crown Point -and return this little reticule to its owner and then—” - -“And you’ll ask questions in Crown Point, Harry, and they’ll tell you -just where our camp is, and you’ll spoil the whole business. No sirree, -we’ve picked up the trail ourselves, and I’m not going to run the chance -of our getting information.” - -“I’ll promise not to ask a soul, Kid.” - -“Then what _will_ you do?” - -“We’ll get up north of Crown Point and camp to-morrow night on Bulwagga -Mountain. If my idea is correct, we ought to see that smoke to-morrow -night close underneath us. Then the next morning we can drop right in on -them—_if_—” - -“There’s no _if_ about it,” said Gordon. But he reluctantly agreed to -this cautious advance, and they turned in for the night. Gordon sang -Kipling’s “Scout Song,” chastising his companion by way of -accompaniment: - - “These are our regulations: - There’s just one law for the scout. - And the first and the last. - And the future and the past, - And the present and the perfect is, - Look out!” - -With every emphasized word a camp cushion came down upon Harry’s head. -“And the first” (_bang_) “and the last” (_bang_). - -“You bet it’s the last!” said Harry, “Look out!” and he promptly -returned the compliment with the other cushion. - - “And the first and the last, - And the future and the past. - -I say, that’s a terrible song, isn’t it, Harry? Say it. Go on, say it -once. You can never get it out of your head. There was a fellow over in -England—a tenderfoot—and he learned it and it drove him crazy. Go on, -say it, Harry.” - -“Who told you that?” - -“You say it once—please.” - -Harry said it, and lost two hours of his night’s sleep in consequence. -For while Gordon slept peacefully, dreaming of what the next day was to -bring forth, his friend lay looking out into the darkness and saying, -over and over: - - “And the first and the last, - And the future and the past, - And the first and the last, - And the future and the past, - And the present and the perfect is, - LOOK OUT!” - -He finally shouted the last two words in hopeless exasperation. - -“What’s the matter?” said Gordon, sitting suddenly up. “Look out for -what?” - - “And the first and the last, - And the future and the past,” - -moaned Harry, while a smile of delight stole over Gordon’s sleepy -countenance. - -“Kipling’s a fiend, isn’t he, Harry?” - -“Kid, if you ever mention that song to me again, I’ll do something -desperate!” - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - THE OWNER OF THE RETICULE - - -The sleeping propensity of a top is nothing to the way Harry and Gordon -slumbered. You cannot sleep such sleep indoors. You need the starry sky, -the dark surrounding trees, the lullaby of cricket and locust, the low, -musical rustle of leaves. Then you can sleep, as Gordon put it, “till -the cows come home.” - -It must have been the custom for the cows in that vicinity to come home -at seven A. M., for at that hour the boys awoke, and Harry soon had -water boiling for the coffee. Of course, every one’s way of making -coffee is by far the best way. The scout way is to bring your water to a -boil first, then drop your coffee in and stir like the mischief. - -At eight-thirty they had every single thing in their bags and were on -their way down the northern slope of the mountain. You would not have -known that any one had camped at the spot except for the ashes of the -fire and the beaver’s head scratched on a rock. - -They followed a winding, woodland path, scarcely visible in places. -“What’s this?” asked Gordon, picking up a small, flat, triangular stone -which his alert eyes had discovered. It proved to be an Indian -arrow-head about an inch and a half long and nearly an inch wide at one -end, tapering to a blunt point at the other. Harry showed his companion -how, wedged into the split end of a stick and bound firmly, it -constituted the old-time arrow of the bloody Mohawk tribe, whose savage -warwhoops had no doubt once been heard along this obscure mountain path. - -Gordon trudged along, kicking the earth in search of more of these -murderous souvenirs. Although they searched carefully, they could find -no more of them, but Harry came upon something which held a grewsome -interest. At the base of an old oak tree where the earth was gray and -powdery, he found the head of a tomahawk, eaten with rust and so -encrusted with earth that he was able to break off the corners of it as -if it had been made of plaster. - -“I guess some poor chap met his end here,” Harry said soberly. “How -would you like to be tied against that old tree and have a pack of -savages throw these things at you?” - -Gordon shuddered. “Do you suppose we’re on the old trail of the Mohawks, -Harry?” - -They were, indeed, treading the very ground over which that treacherous, -bloodthirsty tribe had once carried their victims to torture and -massacre. The thought of it had a quieting effect on Gordon, and they -pressed their way along silently for a little while. Then he began -humming: - - “Though you didn’t or you wouldn’t, - Or you hadn’t or you couldn’t—” - -“What’s that?” asked Harry. - -“It’s the rest of that ‘Scout Song,’ Harry,” said Gordon, looking slyly -sideways at his friend. - -“You know what I told you, Kid! So help me—” - -“Where do we come out?” Gordon interrupted. - -“We’re headed for Crown Point Centre.” - -Within an hour they came upon an open road and soon reached the village. -It was not necessary to inquire for the owner of the little reticule, -for on a wooden post outside the post-office was a notice written in a -delicate hand on a half sheet of note paper: - - LOST - - Lady’s small hand-bag on road near Ticonderoga. Finder will - confer great favor by kindly leaving with postmaster or - returning to - - Miss Antoinette Crosby, - Buck Mansion. - -The word “great” was underlined several times, the word “kindly” was -underlined twice, and the word “Miss” once. - -“How far is it to Buck Mansion?” Harry asked, sauntering into the -post-office. - -The postmaster took a leisurely scrutiny of both boys. “What yer want to -go up thar for?” - -“Just to see some one. About how far is it?” - -“Well, up here folks calls it three mile. City folks sometimes calls it -five. One man that was up thar last summer calc’lated ’twas ten—said -’twas ten mile down and twenty mile back. He was a kind of a comic. But -I can tell you right now they ain’t got a vacant room in the house.” - -“Thank you,” said Harry. “Come on, Kid, we’ll go up there. We don’t need -to get up Bulwagga Mountain before night.” - -The distance to Buck Mansion was somewhere between one mile and ten, and -the way led them through a fragrant country with houses at intervals -along the road. To-day the distance was rather shorter than usual, or -else the “scout pace” helped to make it seem so, for within an hour the -boys reached a spacious white house, standing well back from the road. -The lawn in front was covered with trees, where a number of hammocks -hung. The fence skirting the road was broken in one place by a little -summer-house containing a pump, and the half of a cocoanut shell hung -near by way of a cup. - -The position of this little well-house on the very edge of the public -road afforded a tempting resting-place for tired wayfarers. Through the -trees the boys could see that a deer’s head with spreading antlers hung -over the doorway of the house. On the deep porch easy-chairs stood -about, and in a frame swing to one side of the lawn a solitary figure -sat writing. With this exception, not a soul was to be seen, which -seemed odd in a spot that afforded such tempting facilities for idleness -and repose. - -“The deserted village,” said Harry, “but I guess this is the place, all -right.” - -Just then voices reached the boys through the trees: - -“Shall I come to you?” - -“No, try to go out.” - -“She’s for that wicket.” - -“_She_ can’t get through.” - -“I could send her down to you.” - -“She plays before I do.” - -“Well, I’m going to try to hit her anyway.” There was a second’s -silence, then a whack, then “Missed! I told you so!” - -“Come on over there,” said Harry. - -On a smooth croquet ground an exciting war was going on. So intent was -the group of ladies on the game that it was fully five minutes before -any one spied the two scouts who leaned on the picket fence watching the -play. Then one of them came toward the fence, her croquet mallet over -her shoulder like a musket. - -“Excuse me for interrupting you,” said Harry, removing his hat, “but I -didn’t like to come out on the ground. Is this Buck Mansion?” - -“Yes, indeed,” she said, eying the boys curiously. “Is there some one -you wish to see?” - -“Is there a Miss Crosby here?” - -“Indeed, there is. Nettie!” she called. “Here are two young gentlemen to -see you.” - -The figure in the swing rose quickly, spilling a writing tablet, a bag -of candy, a fountain pen, and a magazine. As she straightened out her -gown, which did not reach anywhere near the ground, the boys saw her to -be a girl of not more than sixteen. They turned toward her. - -“Miss Crosby?” Harry asked. - -“Ye-es.” - -“I think this little hand-bag is yours.” - -“Oh, _did_ you find it?” - -“Yes, and I ought to have returned it sooner. I’m afraid I found it -within an hour of the time you lost it, but better late than never.” He -handed her the bag. - -“Oh, thank you so _very, very_ much. How _did_ you find it?” - -“Oh, I was just amusing myself noticing where your auto broke down.” - -“It isn’t _my_ auto.” - -“And I picked up the bag on the stone wall.” - -“Oh, thank you so _very_ much for your trouble. The bag isn’t really -_worth_ anything, but—” She stopped short and looked at him -suspiciously. “How did you know I was in an auto?” - -“You just said so—or said as much,” smiled Harry. - -“Yes, but _you_ said it _first_.” - -“Well,” said Harry, driven to it, “I happened to be along the road above -Ticonderoga that night, and I saw the auto tracks in the moonlight and -the ground all rumpled, and, oh, one thing and another, and then the bag -on the wall. So I put it in my pocket to return it if I could find the -owner.” - -“You _knew_ we broke down?” - -“I thought so.” - -“Oh, _isn’t_ that just _wonderful_?” - -“That’s nothing,” said Gordon. “He does things like that every day—he -does them by deduction.” - -“Deduction?” - -“Yes—putting two and two together and making four.” - -“That’s arithmetic,” said she. - -“For instance, he thought this bag belonged to an elderly lady,” Gordon -continued. “Of course, once in a great while he’s wrong,” he added -quickly, rather regretting that he had selected this particular -illustration of Harry’s talent for deducing. - -“What made him think _that_? Why, it’s a pale blue—it matches—what -_made_ you think that?” she demanded of Harry. - -“On account of the smelling salts,” said Gordon. - -She opened the bag and closed it hastily. “I think you’re just -_horrid_!” she said, looking at Harry. But she did not think he was -_horrid_. Quite otherwise. - -“You see,” explained Harry, “I had to open it to see if it contained a -name or address.” - -“Of course,” she said, “but it was just horrid to _think_ I was an _old -maid_! Do you always finds things out about people that way—what is -it?” - -“Deduction,” Gordon spoke up. “All scouts have to learn to decide things -that way—it’s dandy fun.” - -“I think it’s horrid. I suppose you’re just finding things _out_ about -me _now_. It makes me _creepy_! But you’re _very_ kind,” she promptly -added. “Tell me, honest and true, what _are_ you deducing about _me_ -now?” - -“Well,” said Harry, “I deduce that you’ve been writing a letter and -underlining lots of words.” - -She opened her mouth in astonishment. “You’re a _perfect_ ghoul!” said -she. “But I haven’t _even_ asked you to sit down yet. Won’t you come -over here and rest?” She led the way to the little well-house by the -roadside, giving Gordon an opportunity to whisper to Harry: - -“Now, you see, Harry—if you only had your uniform on! Did you see how -she looked at me? It wasn’t I she cared about, Harry—it was the scout -uniform. The scout suit catches them every time. I know more about those -things than you do, Harry, because I’ve had more experience. Now you’ve -learned a lesson.” - -There was no chance for Harry to reply, for the young lady had reached -the little shelter and stood waiting for them. She was an extremely -pretty young lady, with a great mass of dark hair held together in the -back by a huge bow, and she had a very snub nose and a way of puckering -her brows into a kind of whimsical frown. A number of rebellious locks -hung about her forehead, shaken loose by the habit she had of giving all -her adjectives a racking emphasis, thus causing her head to be in a -state of almost continual agitation. She wore a white sailor blouse, -with blue trimming and a blue anchor worked in front. Also a blue -braided cord with a tiny round mirror on the end, used in capturing and -confining the loose locks after a particularly emphatic tirade. The -other extremity of Miss Antoinette was on the whole more demure and -reposeful, her small feet being encased in bewitching little pumps, -which were hardly worth while at all since they were almost completely -obscured by enormous silk bows. - -It took Gordon about one minute to forget his anxiety to keep secret the -object of their wanderings, and presently Miss Antoinette was apprised -of their intention of ascending Bulwagga that very day. She said it was -all _wonderful_. - -“And it was so _clever_,” she went on, “your _knowing_ that I was -autoing. They were friends of mine over in Vermont, and have such a -_lovely_ place. Mr. Danforth—he’s just, oh, _so_ generous and _such_ a -dear! It was his son, Roger, that I was with that evening, and oh, he’s -so _dreadfully_ unlucky!” - -“I should call him lucky,” said Harry. - -“Oh, _no_, you wouldn’t. _Something_ happens _every_ time he goes out. -Now what _are_ you looking that way for? You’re _deducing_ this very -minute—you _know_ you are!” - -Harry clasped his hands behind his head, settled far back on the seat, -and looked serious and thoughtful. Gordon cast his eyes heavenward as if -buried in deep calculation. - -“There must be some cause for this bad luck, Kid,” said Harry. “What do -you make of it? He understands autos perfectly, I suppose, Miss Crosby?” - -“Oh, yes, he has _two_.” - -“Interested in mechanical matters, then?” - -“Oh, _very_ much.” - -“Probably has a motor boat, also?” - -“Yes, he _has_.” - -“Such traits usually run in families. Has he any brothers and sisters?” - -“Yes, the _dearest_ little fellow—and _he’s_ interested in mechanical -things, too.” - -“Ah,” said Harry, thoughtfully. “He would probably be interested more in -some other form of mechanics—aeroplanes, for instance.” - -“He is, he is!” cried Miss Antoinette. - -“And if he spent too much time reading and studying about them it might -affect his health,” suggested Gordon, innocently. - -“I catch your idea,” Harry said. “You think the older brother might be -preoccupied by concern for the little fellow’s health, and so not give -his full attention to his car?” - -“That might account for his having so many accidents,” said Gordon. “He -ought to take his chauffeur along.” - -“Possibly he leaves him at home to help the little fellow with his -aeroplanes,” said Harry, after a moment’s thoughtful pause. “Living in -the city, as I suppose they do, the little chap would naturally take -advantage of being up here to try out his models. And they might be -afraid of his meeting with some accident—being so near the lake, too. -_Is_ his health at all delicate, Miss Crosby?” he added. - -“Yes, _indeed_,” cried the girl, who had been staring from one to the -other in speechless amazement. - -“They all worry about him _so_ much. And he _does _stay indoors too -much, reading and experimenting with his aeroplanes. Roger is _always_ -speaking of it, and I believe he _does_ leave his chauffeur at home for -that _very_ reason.” - -“Then, too,” said Gordon, placing the tips of his fingers together, “the -chauffeur would be needed for the other auto—taking parties about. The -house is probably full of guests most of the time.” - -“Pre-cisely,” said Harry. “And the father probably doesn’t understand -much about motors,” he added, as an after-thought. “He naturally -wouldn’t. May I ask if the chauffeur is Irish, Miss Crosby?” - -“His name is Pat,” she answered, as if in a trance. - -“Probably cheerful and good-natured,” mused Harry. “So you think they do -worry about the younger brother’s health?” - -“Oh, I _know_ they _all_ do, for his lungs aren’t strong.” - -“I should say they’ll probably move to the country before very long,” -said Gordon, with great deliberation. “The little boy would be better -there. Very likely they’ll build in some good, healthful suburb, most -likely somewhere in New Jersey, and give up their city residence -altogether.” - -“Not necessarily,” said Harry. - -But Miss Antoinette had jumped to her feet. “I _never_ in my _life_!” -she exclaimed. “It’s _perfectly miraculous_! That’s _exactly_ what they -_are_ going to do! Mr. Danforth is building a _beautiful_ place up on a -hill in New Jersey, and they’re going there to live this Fall!” - -[Illustration: “‘I NEVER IN MY LIFE!’ SHE EXCLAIMED.”] - -“’Twas merely a guess of my friend,” said Harry, in a deprecating way, -as he rose to pump some water. But the repressed twitching around -Gordon’s rebellious lips made the girl suspicious. - -“You’re just _fooling_ me!” she cried. “You must _know_ them!” - -In a few minutes it was all out. Gordon, entirely heedless of Harry’s -scowls and embarrassment, gave her a complete account of the rescue of -little Penfield and their subsequent visit at the Danforth place. She -was entirely of Gordon’s way of thinking as to the acceptance of the -boat, and assured Harry that there was really no hope of escaping Mr. -Danforth. “You might _just_ as well have _taken_ it,” she said, “and -then you wouldn’t have to be _worrying_ about what he might do next.” - -“You don’t think he’ll really get up a conspiracy?” Harry laughed. - -“I _know_ he will, and it will serve you _right_; you _did_ interfere -with his liberty.” - -“Now you see,” sneered Gordon, with great satisfaction. “What did I tell -you? He never takes my advice,” he added, confidentially, to the girl. -“Now you take to-day, if he only had—” - -“Is that a tennis court over there?” Harry interrupted. - -“Yes—do you like tennis? I _hate_ croquet—they _all_ play croquet -here, and there’s not a _boy_ in the place. Oh, I wish I were you, you -can have _such_ fun, going _wherever_ you want to, and just camping -out.” - -They walked over through the croquet field and were presented to twelve -ladies and two lonely gentlemen, all of whom showed a lively interest in -them, as people usually do in boy scouts. Then to the tennis court, -where Miss Crosby and Harry played a lively game, while Gordon sat on a -rustic seat and gorged himself with apples. Between games she made a -hasty trip to her mother on the croquet ground, and presently that lady -strolled over and insisted that the boys remain to dinner. - -Gordon’s eye was on Harry, and he did not dare decline. They found the -summer guests a cordial set, who were only too glad to vary the daily -routine of alternate croquet and bridge by entertaining them and plying -them with questions. - -Early in the afternoon they set forth for Bulwagga Mountain. Miss Crosby -had acquired a lively interest in their enterprise and had made them -promise, at parting, that they would call again if they could possibly -manage it, “and show me some more _deducing_” she had said, with an -injured look. - -And she added that she would “_certainly_ stay up until _midnight_, and -try to discover smoke, and if she _did_ discover it, she would know that -_they_ had seen it too, and would be with their friends in the morning, -and _wouldn’t_ that be just _dear_?” - -Harry said it certainly would, but that it was too good to be true. - -“Now, Harry,” said Gordon, as they started into a clump of woods in the -direction of the great Bulwagga Mountain, “the trouble with you is that -you don’t recount your adventures. That’s the only trouble with you, -Harry. You should have recounted your adventures. There was your chance -to recount them to a maiden.” - -“A what?” - -“A maiden—it’s the same as a girl. And you’ve got the very best kind of -an adventure, too—rescuing some one from drowning—it’s always a -winner. Why, Harry, a maiden always marries a fellow that saves her from -drowning—always! It’s all right to have adventures, but if you want to -be a real hero, you’ve got to recount them. They always do in books. -‘After he recounted his adventures—’” - -“Well, that shows I’m not much of a hero, Kid, doesn’t it?” - -“I know, but you _might_ be. You’ve got the adventures all right, only -you don’t recount them. _I’m_ not blaming you, Harry, because you don’t -know much about girls. Now there was a fellow in a play, named Othello, -and oh, cracky, Harry, but he was a peacherino! He used to recount his -adventures all the time—to a maiden. And he made a great hit, too. And -you could do the same thing, Harry. There’s no kind of an adventure like -a rescue from drowning. Of course, I don’t say anything against pulling -a maiden off the railroad track, especially if she’s bound with cruel -thongs, because that’s a winner, too. But a rescue from drowning catches -them every time. Why, don’t you suppose that Alger, and Henry, and men -like that, know? You bet they do! ’Most all their heroes save people -from drowning, and that’s how they win her hand. If I had an adventure -like that, I’d recount it to maidens, you can bet! But I’m not saying -you didn’t make a hit, Harry.” - -“Oh, stop that, Kid.” - -“No, I won’t stop it, either. If you’d only had on your khaki suit, like -me, it would have been great. But even as it was, you made a hit, -Harry.” - -“You’re dreaming, Kid.” - -“All right; but you’re going there again, I can tell you that.” - -“Not.” - -“I bet you do.” - -“I bet I don’t.” - -“She invited you.” - -“She invited both of us.” - -“Yes, but she meant you.” - -“What the dickens gives you that idea?” - -“I deduced it, Harry.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - GORDON INTERFERES IN FAMILY MATTERS - - -At six o’clock that night the two boys stood on the summit of Bulwagga -Mountain, or on one of the summits, for Bulwagga has two peaks. It was -the hardest afternoon’s work they had ever undertaken. Long before they -threw down their burdens, two thousand feet above sea level, Gordon had -ceased to talk and devoted his breath to panting. It was a tough, -tedious climb, but the game was well worth the candle. They looked off -upon an endless landscape, dotted here and there with toy houses and -pigmy villages. - -“What’s the use of sawing wood and laying bricks and building houses and -churches,” said Harry, “if that’s all they amount to?” - -Indeed, Bulwagga, standing silent and serene, close to the shore of the -great lake, seemed to belittle everything. There lay Crown Point, a -modest little cluster of tiny buildings. There lay the lake, almost -under them, with all its little juttings and indentations plain to view. -There was the Crown Point peninsula curving out into the middle of the -lake and pointing northward like a great, clumsy thumb. Inside it was -Bulwagga Bay. - -Once upon a time, more than three centuries ago, the adventurous -Champlain sailed up this great lake which bears his name, with an -exploring party of merry Frenchmen. Instead of turning their prows -eastward into the narrow channel formed by the peninsula, they sailed -gayly into Bulwagga Bay, supposing that an open path lay before them. -But the bay proved to be a trap. Down out of the fastnesses of the old -mountain came the Mohawk savages, and the gay little company was caught -like a rat. Harry, who knew the history of the lake, now saw just how it -had happened. Many a time and oft had the bloody Mohawks made good use -of this deceptive bay, and many who were caught and slaughtered there -supposed they had reached the end of the winding sheet of water, for -there was no sign posted on the end of the peninsula informing the -explorer to turn to his left. - -But now the old mountain, which had so long been the secret ally of the -bloody Mohawk tribe, gave up the secret, as if to say: “You see how we -worked it. Wasn’t it a great scheme?” - -“Harry,” said Gordon, “I’m all in—let’s rest.” - -“Your motion is unanimously carried,” said Harry, sitting down on a -rock. “If I saw the camp ten feet in front of me now, I wouldn’t budge. -Now that’s just about where I think the smoke was,” he continued, -pointing down into the woods which extended from the base of the -mountain to the lake; “and if I’m right, we’ve got a grandstand view on -them, provided there’s a moon. Just as soon as they get their old logs -blazing, we’ve got them. If—” - -“Now you spoil it all when you say _if_, Harry. It isn’t necessary to -say that. We’re sure to see them from up here. We’ve got them, sure, -Harry.” - -There was some reason for his hopefulness. Bulwagga Mountain is, indeed, -a mighty grand stand built on the shore of Lake Champlain. It is long -and narrow, its length running parallel with the lake. There are two -peaks, precisely placed, one at the northern, one at the southern, end -of the ridge. By reason of Bulwagga Bay, the northern half of the -mountain actually forms the shore, descending sheer like a great wall, -as if to crowd the railroad into the water. The southern half sits back -like a dress circle in a theater, or rather the lake flows wide of it, -leaving a stretch of flat, wooded country between. Here the mountain -slopes down from its southerly peak, admitting of a descent, if you are -cautious and care to undertake it; but there is no way to descend from -the northern peak eastward except to go to the edge and jump off, a -method which has never been popular with tourists. - -On his western extent old Bulwagga is more amiable. There is a road -which works its way up toward the northern peak, as many a tired horse -knows, but it does not get to the top; and you alight and plod on till -you look straight down into the bay and can see the ruins of the Crown -Point fortress on the end of the chubby peninsula. The southerly summit -looks down with lofty scorn upon the touring parties that make the -ascent of his brother peak, for he encourages no sightseers to come too -near and trifle with his lonely majesty. - -It is all very well for Bulwagga to raise his twin crowns proudly and -make a great show to summer boarders, but I can tell you that he might -better bow his heads in shame, for he has a most bloody and disreputable -history. I dare say there is not a mountain along the whole stretch of -Lake Champlain and Lake George that has gotten itself mixed up in so -many massacres. For years its fastnesses echoed with warwhoops and with -the cries of the dying. It was a favorite stronghold of the savage and -treacherous Mohawks. But all that is past. - -It was the baffling, lonely, wild southerly peak of old Bulwagga that -the boys had succeeded in mounting. There was no road, no path, nothing -but their compass to guide them. They had come up from the west and the -spot where they threw themselves down commanded an unobstructed view of -the stretch of woodland between them and the lake. As they looked down, -a sudden jut of white smoke rose under the precipitous northern end of -the mountain, the column traveling diagonally across the base of the -peninsula toward the lake. - -“Listen,” said Harry, and they heard the distant rattle of a hidden -train, as it rushed across the peninsula to regain the shore. - -“My, but it’s lonely up here, isn’t it, Harry? When are we going to eat, -anyway?” - -“As soon as little Gretchen brings in the firewood. I’ve got to sit -right here so as to keep that woods down there in view. It wouldn’t be -safe for me to move.” - -“It wouldn’t, wouldn’t it?” said Gordon, pushing his staff against -Harry’s chest and toppling him over backward. “Get up and pitch camp, -you lazy thing!” - -They set to work putting up their shelter, and in a little while the -frying pan sent forth its savory odor. - -“Let’s have some more of those bacon sandwiches, Harry. Where are the -figs?” - -“All gone. Want coffee?” - -“I certainly do.” - -“It’ll keep you awake.” - -“Never! A brass band wouldn’t keep me awake up here.” - -“All right, hand me over that egg powder. Could you eat an omelette?” - -“Could I? Here you go, catch this—catch this chocolate, too.” - -“What’s that for?” - -“Scrape some into the egg powder, Harry. It’ll make a sort of chocolate -omelette.” - -“Why not put some cereal in, too, while we’re about it?” - -“Just the idea, and we’ll have a new breakfast food—choc-chocerealeg.” - -“Reminds you of the Champastic Motor,” laughed Harry. “I wonder how the -little chap’s getting on with his model.” - -“We’ll get him in the troop, hey, Harry?” - -“By all means.” - -After supper, to which both did full justice, they sat back to await the -darkness. They had hoped to see some smoke which might indicate a cook -fire, in the woods below, but supper time had come and gone and there -had not been the faintest suggestion of any. It was true their outlook -was by no means limited to the woods directly east of them. By shifting -their position somewhat they could scan the country far to the west and -south. But the woods to the east afforded an ideal spot for a camp; -there was the lake just beyond—it was just such a spot as Red Deer -would have chosen and near enough to show the trained vision of a scout -the smoke of its cook fire. But there was none, and both boys rather -dreaded the approach of darkness with, perhaps, its greater -disappointment. For Gordon enthusiastically, and Harry quietly, had set -their hopes all day on what a view from this old mountain might reveal. - -“I know one thing,” said Harry, “and that is, if we stay here over -to-morrow, I’m going to find a place where little fishes dwell. Methinks -I could dally with a fried trout, Sir Gordon.” - -“But why should we hang around here over to-morrow, Harry?” - -“Because, my son, we don’t happen to be weather-vanes on the top of a -steeple. If we don’t spy anything down there, we’ve got to get over that -way till we can command the west,—savvy?” - -“That’s a good expression, Harry, ‘command the west.’” - -“You like it?” - -“It’s all right.” - -“If I happen to use an expression you don’t like, just mention it.” - -“The pleasure is mine,” said Gordon. - -Ten o’clock arrived—eleven. No sign of a camp-fire. Weary, sleepy, and -disappointed, they turned in for the night. - -The morning broke damp and foggy, with a drizzling rain veiling the -country roundabout. The wind was east, the sky dull and heavy, giving no -promise of clearing. - - “Rain before seven, - Clear before eleven,” - -sang Gordon, cheerfully. “It’ll be a good day for fishing, anyway. I’m -going after minnows. We’ll see if that trickle of water doesn’t broaden -out some, hey?” - -“I can tell you that without going,” said Harry. “It does. It flows into -the lake.” - -“Rises in Bulwagga Mountain,” said Gordon, “takes an easterly course, -and flows into Lake Champlain. Correct; be seated, Master Lord.” - -“A little south by east,” said Harry, looking at his map. - -“Aye, aye, sir,” Gordon answered. “A sail on the weather bow, Cap’n.” - -“Look here, Kid, we’ll have to stick it out up here to-day, and if -there’s any sign of clearing by afternoon we’ll move over through this -clump where we can command the west.” - -“Don’t talk about commanding the west, Harry. Last night you were going -to command the east, and now the east has got you rattled. I don’t see -us commanding this old country at all. It seems to me the country is -having a great laugh on us. Look at this game that we’re mixed up in -now. This rain wasn’t on the map, was it? You give me a pain with your -ridges and outlooks and things—and so does Red Deer with his blackboard -charts! You call this a peak? I don’t see any peak to it. It’s a -jungle—that’s what it is! Where’s the peak?” - -“We’re on it.” - -“Harry, you’re crazy. There’s no sign of a peak here.” - -“Isn’t that other one a peak, Kid? Well, over there this one looks the -same.” - -“All right,” said Gordon, as if to make allowance for his friend’s -peculiarities, “only don’t talk about ‘commanding the west.’” - -“Getting discouraged, Kiddo?” - -“No, I’m trusting to luck. I’m usually lucky. I found a quarter and a -dime and a gold ring and a watch charm last year, and I believe I’ll run -up against camp—that’s all.” - -“Good for you! Well, now, give me your ear. I was just going to rise to -remark when you made your little speech, that we’ll go over to the -western side of this sharp peak, this tack point, this spire—” - - “And the first and the last, - And the future and the past. - And the first and the last—” - -sang Gordon, doggedly. - -“Keep still!” - -“Well, then, _you_ keep still.” - -“Kid, all you need is an apple. Now listen to your patrol leader. It’s a -scout’s duty to obey his leader. You need to brush up on the law a -little.” - -“I suppose that precipice over there is what you call a contour line,” -said Gordon, with deep sarcasm. - -“That’s what Uncle Sam’s surveyors call it, but, of course, anything you -say—” - -“And when it comes to the law,” continued Gordon, “you just want to read -up General Baden-Powell—what he says about chivalry. It’s a scout’s -duty to recount his adventures to maidens.” - -“Well, if I’d recounted a thrilling adventure like a rescue, she might -have cried, Kid.” - -“Maidens don’t cry—they weep.” - -“Well, this mutiny has got to be put down, anyway,” said Harry. “I order -you to dig a hole and bury this refuse, as per camping regulations of -the Boy Scouts.” - -The odds and ends of breakfast (and they were not many) were soon -disposed of “as per,” and Harry outlined his idea for exhausting all the -possibilities of spying which the mountain afforded, before, like the -famous Duke of Yorkshire, they marched down again. - -Despite the drizzling rain, they made their way to where the little -neighboring rivulet formed a pool with a bright, pebbly bottom, and here -they scooped up minnows almost by the handful, until their pail was -thick with the little, darting, silvery fishes. - -These Harry fried in cracker crumbs, and they sat under their little -shelter and enjoyed them, Gordon keeping up a running comment on their -tastiness and flavor. And I can tell you that if you happen to be on a -lonely mountain on a drizzly day, you cannot do better than arrange -yourself comfortably under your shelter, enjoy the remoteness, the -wildness, laugh at the weather, and eat fried minnows. - -In the afternoon Harry, who was a true philosopher, took both camp -cushions, which they had filled with balsam the night before, spread his -blanket, pressed all available clothing into service to form a means of -reclining, and settled back comfortably with a paper copy of -“Kidnapped,” which he had taken the precaution to bring against the -possibility of just such weather as this. - -“If any one calls, Kid, I’m not at home—office hours after six.” - -Gordon knew what that meant. He hated Robert Louis Stevenson as a rival. -As sure as a rainy day came, Harry would double up in a corner -somewhere,—in his room, in the library, in the troop room,—and be dead -to the world. At such times Gordon was powerless, nothing could rouse -his friend. He had hoped that Harry might get through with this trip -without an attack of the kind. But now it had come. Stevenson, like -rheumatism, was always to be counted on in bad weather. - -“Why don’t you tackle ‘Brave and Bold,’ Kid?” said Harry, as he settled -down. Gordon chose to interpret this as a cowardly and slurring attack -on Alger, and he disdained to reply. - -“If you’re going to be knocking around in the Scotch Highlands all -afternoon, I might as well take a walk.” - -“Don’t fall off the peak.” - -Gordon scorned this shallow attempt at humor. “How near through are you, -anyway?” - -“Eight more chapters.” - -“That’ll take you two hours. Good-by.” - -“Here, take the compass—and don’t trip over those contour lines.” - -Gordon caught the compass, but his scout smile was conspicuous by its -absence. The rain had held up somewhat, and he picked his way through -the thick brush, every stir of which shook water upon him, for old -Bulwagga was thoroughly soaked from the continuous drizzle. - -Stumbling and creeping on, he soon found himself in a labyrinth which it -was impossible to pass through, so interwoven were the limbs and vines. -He retraced his path and was able to pick out a comparatively open way -around this tangled spot. Never had he seen such wildness. There was not -a thing to indicate that any human being had ever before set foot on -this rugged mountain top. Great bowlders, covered with tenacious vines -and sheltered by crooked sinewy branches, lay about in tumbling -confusion. - -“This is a peak, I don’t think!” he sneered, and brushed the water from -his clothing. He came to a black pool in which broken twigs lay -motionless, and there was the pungent odor of rotting wood and wet -foliage. A few feet away stood a tall hemlock which seemed to rear its -head out of the pandemonium of rock and thicket, into the light of day. -As he looked about him in the silence of this untamed spot, it seemed as -if all the materials of creation, rock, water, trees, creeping vines, -had been thrown here in an indiscriminate heap. - -It occurred to him that if he could get to the top of this big tree he -might obtain an unobstructed view of all the country, north, east, -south, and west. The trunk was large and the lowest branches a good -distance from the ground, but he noticed that a young spruce rose within -its spreading radius. He hung his hat and khaki coat on a projecting -bush, wet his finger and made a mystic circle on his forehead for good -luck, embraced the spruce, placed the wet soles of his sneakers against -it, and went up like a monkey. Transferring himself to the lowest branch -of the hemlock, he paused for refreshment, producing from his trousers -pocket a fishline, two sinkers, a jack-knife, an oval pebble, and a -lead-pencil eraser. An exploration of the opposite pocket proved more -successful, yielding half a handful of shelled nuts. He sat on the -bough, dangling his legs and eating these. Then up, stepping from bough -to bough. - -He had not gone far when he was conscious of a slight movement on the -branch where his foot rested, and looking down he saw two little eyes -gleaming at him out of what looked at first like a knotty projection of -the wood. He moved his foot, and the little animal stirred -correspondingly. It was no bigger than a cat. - -Gordon was a scout, and he had no wish to harm the animal, whatever it -was; but he was also Master Gordon Lord, and he was very curious. He let -himself cautiously down and straddled the branch, facing the two eyes. -The little creature, frightened at this move, backed out toward the end -of the bough and Gordon crept nearer. Presently, they were at close -quarters, and for a moment his quarry seemed undecided what to do. It -scanned the tree above, then looked to the ground, then backed another -inch or two—as far as it could go. Gordon’s next move decided it. It -gave a tremulous whine. Instantly there came from below a sort of -restrained howl, and Gordon saw, climbing up the trunk of the tree, a -good-sized gray animal with catlike eyes and a little bushy beard under -its chin. He suspected it was a lynx. - -The boy was about halfway out on the limb, the frightened kitten -crouching ludicrously on the end, and its mother, presumably, coming to -its rescue. Gordon’s predicament was not a pleasant one, and again the -words of Red Deer came jumping into his head: _Always use your brains -first; then your hands and feet_. - -A move in either direction would hasten the animal’s ascent. The three -participants in the affair paused motionless, staring at each other, the -large animal’s body flattened against the trunk. Then, with its cold -eyes fixed cautiously on Gordon, it resumed its climb, growling -irritably. Gordon fumbled for his jack-knife and opened it. The lynx -paused again with its narrow eyes fixed upon him. The kitten humped its -back and glared in a way that would have been amusing if the situation -had not been dangerous. - -With as little stir as possible, Gordon pulled the fishline out of his -pocket, which, being unwound and somewhat tangled, brought one or two of -his precious possessions with it. He distinctly saw his lead-pencil -eraser strike a branch below and bounce off into the pool. Binding the -open jack-knife against the end of his stick, he had a spear long -enough, if effectual, to reach below the lowest branch and prevent the -mother’s gaining a vantage ground above. He moved inward, much to the -little animal’s relief. Growling menacingly, the mother stealthily -mounted, inch by inch. She was just making a quick movement to gain the -lowest bough when she encountered the large open blade of Gordon’s -jack-knife. Her mouth opened in a hissing growl as her paw cautiously -felt the end of the stick. Then she glided upward and Gordon pricked her -vigorously. With a howl that woke the forest, she crouched back and gave -a spring, her fore paws clutching the lowest branch. - -By this time the kitten was thoroughly frightened, crowding back on the -end of the bough and whining piteously. This only served to make the -mother more frantic. Gordon stood on his branch, bracing himself against -the trunk, and fought back the infuriated creature. And with every prick -of his makeshift spear, it crouched back and advanced with renewed rage. -It was a difficult and perilous encounter for the boy, for should he -lose his foothold or pause but for a second the lynx would gain the -lowest branch and it would be hopeless to try to check it. As long as he -could keep it hugging the trunk, his chances were good, and this with -all his might and main he strove to do, manipulating his weapon with the -greatest dexterity to prevent the animal’s getting it between her teeth. -Each time he withdrew the stick, the beast gained an inch or two, -retreating with each fresh thrust. Its mouth was dripping blood and its -paws were stained, but it fought with increasing fury, howling in a way -to strike terror to the boy’s heart. - -The jack-knife began to wobble on the stick, and presently it fell to -the ground. The animal seemed to appreciate this advantage to itself, -for it straightway made a savage onslaught. Gordon waited till its mouth -opened wide in a menacing hiss, then thrust his stick between its jaws -and pushed it vigorously from him. There was a moment’s terrific -struggle, the stick broke in the middle, and the lynx, clutching the end -of it, went to the ground. - -Like lightning, Gordon moved out toward the little animal and shook the -branch desperately. But he could not shake it off. The mother was -halfway up the trunk again, howling and climbing rapidly. There was no -time to think. Neither was there another small branch which he could -quickly detach. In his desperate plight he stood above the infuriated -creature, clutching the tree and kicking wildly with one foot. But he -wore only sneakers, and presently he withdrew his leg, very much the -worse for the encounter. He had gained time, however, to perform the -acrobatic feat of tearing off his flannel shirt with one hand. Hastily -getting a match from his hat, he set fire to the shirt and held it down -above the animal’s head. Singed and howling, it backed away from this -new weapon. But the shirt was presently all aflame and Gordon could not -hold it. Reaching as far down as he could, he dropped it against his -enemy’s face. - -Then arose such a howl as he had never heard. Backing down the trunk, -principally by means of its hind legs, the animal tried to rid itself of -the blazing garment by its fore paws. The result was that its claws -caught in it. Presently it bounded from the trunk to the ground, freeing -itself from the burning shreds. Gordon saw that he had but a moment in -which to act. If he failed now there was no other weapon available. - -He moved rapidly out toward the little creature. It whined as he -approached, and an answering whine came from below. The mother, its -front hair singed, was again on the tree trunk. He feared if he went -farther the limb would break, but it was his only hope, for he could not -shake the little creature off. So he moved out, the branch crackling -ominously beneath him, and grabbed it by the nape of its neck. It whined -piercingly and clung to the tree. He wrenched it off just as the lynx -had reached the same branch. Holding it up so that its mother might -clearly see what he was doing, he threw it into the pool below. At this -moment the infuriated mother was within five feet of him. What she might -have done if he had thrown her baby to the ground is uncertain. Seeing -it in the pool, she did not hesitate. With the hatred of water which all -the cat tribe possess, she could not trust her kitten to its dangers. -With a shriek she sprang from the bough, and ran excitedly round the -pool. Then the necessity gave her courage and she swam to the little -one’s rescue. Dripping with the slimy water, her head woefully singed -and matted with blood, Gordon saw her bring the little one to shore in -her mouth and trot silently off into the thicket. - -“If she had only known,” said he, “that I didn’t mean to hurt it.” - -The creature had given him a great scare and called forth all the -agility and ingenuity that he possessed, but now that it was over he -felt nothing but admiration for his foe. And afterward, when he -“recounted the adventure,” he always made a great point of its plunging -into the pool and coming out, dripping and bloody, and trotting off with -the kitten into the forest. - -He had lost all desire to climb the tree, his leg was badly scratched, -and his nerves on edge. He knew that he had come in a southerly -direction from camp and that he had only to work his way northward -through the woods to return. And though the way was tangled and -baffling, he could have managed it except for one trifling circumstance. - -He had lost the compass. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - IN HOC SIGNO VINCES - - -It was now late in the afternoon, and the drizzling rain had stopped; -but the sky remained dull, and a chill wind was blowing. The sun, which -might have guided him, had not shown itself all day. He tried vainly to -find it by holding his knife blade vertically on his thumb and twirling -it round in hopes that it might reveal a faint shadow. He might have -secured an outlook from the top of the hemlock, but his leg was -scratched and sore and one sneaker torn almost apart. He realized now -how exhausted he was. For a moment a panic fear seized him; then he -remembered what Red Deer had once told him, in case he should be lost in -the woods, “Don’t get rattled—keep your shirt on.” - -“But I can’t even do that,” said Gordon. - -He sat down on a bowlder. “If I ever hear Harry call this a peak again, -I’ll—” Suddenly a thought came to him. The wind had not shifted; it was -still in the east. He stood facing it, holding his left arm -outstretched, sideways. “That ought to be the north,” said he. Looking -where his hand pointed, he noticed a small hole in a tree trunk near -him. A worm seemed to be hanging out of it, but as he approached it gave -a sudden whisk and disappeared. It was no worm, but a mouse’s tail, and -he recollected with great elation (for he seldom forgot anything) that a -field-mouse almost always dwells on the south side of a tree. So, with -the wind and the mouse-hole agreeing as to the compass points, Gordon -started north. - -He believed that camp was a mile and a half or two miles distant, and he -sorely regretted now that he had not blazed the way for his return. But -he went straight ahead, as he thought, pushing through the underbrush -until he found himself in comparatively open land. There was no outlook -here, and he was too stiff to climb a tree. Nevertheless he fancied that -one or two objects were familiar, and was convinced that he was heading -directly for camp. - -Wet, shivering, sore, and tired, he plodded on. When he believed he was -within call, he shouted, but there was no answer. He would give another -shout a little farther on. Presently he came to a thicket, and in a few -moments stood, limp and weary, staring about him in amazement, in the -very spot of his fight with the lynx. There was the hemlock. There was -the pool. - -Very much discouraged, he sat down to rest, kicked off his battered -sneaker, which was of no further use, and took a long “think.” He knew -that he had done what people lost in the woods are almost sure to -do—walked in a large circle. - -“That’s a funny thing when you come to think of it,” he said; “we must -be built lopsided.” - -As he tugged his rebellious stocking into place, another idea came to -him. Well he recollected one evening when Red Deer (in his civilized -role of Dr. Brent) had sat on the porch talking with Mr. Lord. He, -Gordon, had sat in the background catching and retaining everything like -a sponge. He remembered Dr. Brent’s telling his father an interesting -theory to account for this tendency of people to walk in a circle. The -theory was that the heart, beating on the left side, throws extra -strength and activity into the left leg, so that one unconsciously edges -to the right. “Now,” thought Gordon, “if I just limp a little more on my -sore leg, that ought to straighten things out.” - -So, when he had rested, he started north again, resolving to keep this -mischievous inclination of the heart in mind and counteract it by -limping uniformly with his left leg. That his limping very nicely -balanced the extra strength was demonstrated (to his own complete -satisfaction, at least) when an hour later, shoeless and shirtless, but -with a radiant smile, he limped into camp just as Harry was beginning to -think of going in search of him. - -“Harry, I don’t _have_ to limp as bad as this, but I’ve made a wonderful -discovery.” - -“Where’s your shirt?” - -“Wait till you hear—I’ve had a great adventure! You know we’re all -lopsided, Harry, on account of our hearts; we’re not built true, and -I’ve thought of a way—” - -“All right, come in here and get dressed. Lucky you’ve got another shirt -and a pair of sneakers. What have you been into now, you little son of -trouble?” - -“Shall I begin at the beginning, Harry?” - -“Certainly! Let’s hear it all!” - -So Gordon recounted his adventure with his wonderful discovery as a -climax, and Harry listened with a dry smile. “Guess it was a lynx, all -right,” he said. - -After supper Harry displayed an elaborate drawing of a model aeroplane -which he had made on the inside cover of his book. Ever since he had -left Mr. Danforth’s hospitable roof, his thoughts had run somewhat on -Penfield and his model. The result of his studying the diagram was that -he had written Penfield a letter on the fly leaves of the book and -stuffed it in his pocket to mail as soon as he should strike a -post-office. It read: - - Dear Pen:— - - Be sure to soak your clockwork in kerosene oil. If you can’t hit - on any whalebone, get an old umbrella and use the ribs. The silk - will make good covering, too. Drop a glass bead on your - propeller axle—it will do for ball bearing. Put some vaseline - on it. Be sure to have your covering hang a little over the back - of the planes to hold the air a second, and I think the cover of - a fountain pen would do better than a gas tip to hold your - sticks together—it’s lighter. Hairpins are handy, too. Maybe - you’ve got one of those bamboo porch screens that pull up and - down. The strips would be great if you’re making a curved plane. - If your sisters have any old hats with flowers on them, you’ll - find good thin wire inside the stems. Peel the green stuff off. - The wire would be just the thing for binding your frame corners, - too. Don’t get discouraged. We’ve got them beaten already. Only - don’t be too reckless with your glue, and have plenty of oil on - your cog chain. And don’t have your propeller go too fast—it - only cuts a hole in the air. If you could get hold of one of - those little hoops ladies embroider on, you could cut it in half - and you’d have good rudder frames. If you need strong spring - wire, the sides of a pair of spectacles would be just the thing. - You might find some good stuff in a willow chair. Be sure not to - have any flat surfaces against the air. - - We’ll try to see you before we go home. We’re up on Bulwagga - Mountain now—still hunting. Hope to get a clue this afternoon - or night. - - Your friend, Harry Arnold. - - P. S—If you can’t get hold of a lady’s hat, maybe Miss Crosby, - over at Buck Mansion, can fix you up. Tell her I deduced that - she has a few. Gordon had a fight with a lynx—how’s that? Lost - his shirt and gained an adventure. - -The night continued cloudy, and the boys had no alternative but to turn -in again with neither information nor clue. And this was especially -unfortunate since the moon was rising later each evening and soon all -hope of night searching would have to be abandoned. - -“Kid,” said Harry, “I don’t think they’d have gone north of this—I -can’t get that woods down there out of my mind. But we could never -follow the stream down, old boy, not with your leg as it is. It means -more climbing than walking. It looks to me as if the stream would be a -series of waterfalls. Then I wouldn’t dare go far from it without a -compass.” - -“Harry, now don’t spoil it all, whatever you do. I won’t vote for -sending up a signal—there’s no use asking me. We’re going to find -_them_. And everything is going fine. Gracious, I was scared when I lost -that compass, but now I know it’s the regular thing to do, Harry. Now, -there was a fellow they called the Black Ranger, and he did the same -thing, and it said that without food or compass and limping from his -wound, he pressed on with dauntless courage. And we’ve even got the -limp, Harry—if it don’t go and get well before we find them. We ought -not to find them, Harry, till we are well-nigh exhausted.” - -“How’s that?” - -“We ought to drag ourselves, weary but triumphant, into camp.” - -“Hmmm,” said Harry. - -He lay awake long, thinking. They might kindle a large signal fire on -the mountain, but that, if it were seen, would lessen the triumph of -finding the camp. It would be, in a way, calling for assistance, and he -did not like the idea any more than Gordon did. - -The morning dawned dull and cloudy; it bade fair to be a repetition of -the previous day. Gordon slept long, and when he awoke he found the -shelter empty save for himself. While he was pulling on his things, -Harry came in, his mood wholly out of keeping with the weather. - -“Hello there, Kiddo! Here are some minnows for breakfast.” - -“Hello! I guess we won’t see any sign of campfire to-night. Doesn’t this -weather beat all!” - -“Don’t grumble about the weather now. This is just the day to do my -sewing. I’ve got to patch up your stocking and fix you up generally, so -that if you should meet any maidens you’ll be in shape to recount your -adventures.” - -“What’ll be our next move, Harry?” - -“Our next move will be to explore that woods down there. That’s the -likeliest place for camp that they could strike in this vicinity, it -seems to me. It’s between the two forts, it’s flat woodland, and it’s -got a stream running through it—this stream that begins up here. So I -think we’d better get right down there and not waste any more time up -here.” - -“But when we get down on the mountain side, Harry, we won’t be able to -see where we’re going.” - -“We’re going down just the way we came up,” said Harry, “and strike into -the Port Henry Road. I think we’ll hit a road that goes around the -northern end of this old mountain and skirts the shore, and we’ll follow -that along till we strike the stream in level country. If they’re down -there at all, they’re near the stream—you can be sure of that; and -we’ll follow along the stream to the lake. I shouldn’t be in the least -surprised if we found them.” - -“But if we don’t?” - -“Then we’ll go on to Port Henry, and I’ll buy a regular spyglass there -if they have such a thing—and on to Bald Knob.—And if the collar -button’s under the bed, we’ll find it, or break our necks in the -attempt!” - -“Or drop in our tracks is better, Harry.” - -“Well, we’ll do that, then. So now for minnows and coffee and—do you -want bacon?” - -“Surely.” - -“Bacon it is, and then the sewing circle. Dump that spool of thread out -of the coffee pot, will you? Kid, you’re a horrible sight! You look as -if you’d been through a sawmill.” - -By ten o’clock they were picking their way down the western slope toward -the Port Henry road. It is probably the easiest descent from the -southern peak, but it was difficult for all that. Noontime found them -again in open country, trudging along the road toward the little village -of Port Henry, which is on the lake shore about three miles north of the -mountain. Instinctively, each took a side of the road, watching it -closely as they went along. Now and then Harry would pause to examine a -trampled spot near the roadside. Every suspicious stone was carefully -scrutinized, then kicked aside for any secret it might be hiding. -Usually their inspection was only casual, and they discovered nothing -which justified them in pausing. Footprints were out of the question -considering the length of time which had elapsed and the rain which had -fallen. Every time Harry paused, Gordon looked expectantly over and -asked, “What did you strike?” and Harry would answer, “Nothing.” - -They had almost reached the crossroad when Harry stopped to examine a -little hole in the ground, no larger in circumference than a broom -stick. He stuck a twig into the hole, finding that it was about six -inches deep. - -“Locust hole?” asked Gordon, going over. - -“Don’t think so,” Harry answered, pulling the grass carefully away from -it. “It’s octagon-shaped, isn’t it? Let’s have a match.” He held the -match down. “Humph, seems to go to a point, doesn’t it?” - -They stood looking at each other. - -“Morrel has an octagon-shaped staff, hasn’t he, Kid!” - -Gordon’s face was an ample substitute for the recreant sun. - -“We’ve found them! We’ve found them, Harry!” he shouted. - -“Let’s sit down and think,” said Harry, quietly. “Kid, that crossroad -ahead there would take us round under the mountain, under the precipice, -and so into the woods below.” - -“Harry, we’re on their trail!” - -“You don’t call a hole in the ground a trail, do you? This is nothing -but a poor, weak, sickly little apology for a clue. So don’t go up in -the air. In the first place, has Morrel an octagon staff, or hasn’t he?” - -“He has, Harry.” - -“All right, now you’re talking. Evidently they stopped and talked here. -That stick must have been stuck down pretty well into the ground to -leave a hole that would stay there after the rain we’ve had in the last -couple of days. But if they knew they wanted to get into that woods, why -didn’t they come up the shore? What were they doing away in here west of -the mountain? Let’s take a look at that road for a little way.” - -They could see by the map that the crossroad skirted the northern slope -of the mountain and ran along the bay shore, under the precipitous east -wall, and thence into the woods. But surely if the Oakwood troop had -come up from Ticonderoga knowing their destination, they would have -taken another and easier way to reach it. - -With their inspection of the crossroad, the weak, sickly little clue -grew to robust proportions. - -“Here’s where Mac got hungry, Kid,” Harry commented, kicking a piece of -silver paper. “Let’s see, now, if we can make anything out of all this.” -He looked smilingly round. - -Meanwhile, Gordon’s observant eye had discovered something which -gladdened his heart,—a true, out-and-out scout sign. A little way down -the crossroad, along the right-hand side, a small square was scratched -with stone on a rock, with an arrow pointing from one of its sides. It -did not take Gordon long to take three paces from this stone in the -direction of the arrow. - -“Let’s have your ax, Harry.” - -In a minute more, both boys were sitting by the roadside poring over a -few words written on a piece of paper, which puzzled them more than they -helped, however. It simply said, in what appeared to be a hasty scrawl: - -“If any of you come back this way, follow blazing.” - -“_If any of them come back this way_,” repeated Harry. “What in the -dickens have they done—separated?” In a moment the answer came to him. -“Kid,” he said, “I may be all wrong, but I have an idea that some of -them went on into Port Henry to hire boats. That’s why they were up as -far as this. Probably they couldn’t find half a dozen canoes and dories -farther down. Here’s where they separated. Some went on, and the rest -stayed here—you can see they loafed around here—look at the chocolate -wrapper. Mac can’t sit down a minute without eating—he’ll weigh a ton -if he keeps on. Maybe the fellows that went on expected to make -arrangements for boats and perhaps come down the lake in them. Anyway, -the boys that waited here probably thought that some of them might come -back along this road expecting to find them, so when they decided to go -on they left this. I can’t make it out—they’ve been here, that’s sure, -and they’ve blazed a way off this road down a ways. Come on!” - -They started down the road, watching carefully for any signs. Gordon was -almost too excited to speak. - -“Oh, Harry, won’t it be great when we find them! What’ll we say?” - -They came to a blazed tree and turned into the woods. Other trees were -blazed at intervals of a few yards, leading deeper and deeper into the -forest. They were now shut off from any outlook and did not know in what -direction they were traveling; but they followed the blazing, and before -long the lake showed in silvery patches through the trees. - -“Harry,” said Gordon, stopping, “let’s decide how we’ll act. I say, -let’s just walk in as if nothing had happened and sit down. When they -ask us questions we’ll just answer kind of careless, and stretch -ourselves, you know, as if we didn’t want to be bothered. I’ve been -thinking, Harry, and I believe that’ll be better than dragging ourselves -into camp, hungry and exhausted, but with dauntless courage. You see, -the trouble is, Harry, there’s really enough food left in our packs for -several days more. By rights we ought not to find them till about three -days after our—what is it they call food, Harry?” - -“Grub?” suggested Harry. - -“No—means of something or other—” - -“Means of sustenance?” - -“That’s it, Harry,—till our means of sustenance is exhausted. Then -again, Harry, I don’t really look so very bad—I mean I don’t look bad -_enough_.” - -“You look very dressy, Kid.” - -“Now, keep quiet about that, Harry. I mean I don’t look as if the bleak -wind had penetrated to my very—” - -“You look as if you needed a pair of stockings,” said Harry. “We’ll have -to get some in Port Henry. You’ve got an extra pair, but you ought to -have two good pairs in case we should happen to go—” - -“Ha! What did I tell you? Didn’t I say you’d be going there again? And -now you want to use me for a scapegrace!” - -“A what?” - -“Well, you know what it is when you want to do a thing and lay the whole -blame on somebody else.” - -“Oh, that’s a scapegoat.” - -They had walked on and now reached a spot where they stopped short. It -was within a few yards of the shore. Before them was a large charred -spot, covered with ashes. A rough pole rested horizontally between two -saplings. A stream flowed into the lake near by. The ground was -trampled, and they could plainly see stake holes. Clearly, there had -been a camp here. - -Both boys stood silent, contemplating the deserted spot. - -“Well, what—do—you—think—of—that!” said Gordon. - -“Kid,” said Harry, after a minute, “this is where we saw the smoke from -Dibble Mountain—just about where I thought. We didn’t see it from -Bulwagga that first night because it wasn’t here.” - -“Correct; be seated, Master Arnold.” - -“What do you say, Kid?” - -“I have only one thing to say, Harry. We have been handed a large and -juicy lemon.” - -“Let’s go down and look around the shore.” - -The shore was sloping in one place—an ideal spot for hauling up canoes; -but no sign was there, not the slightest ruffle in the sand, to indicate -that any boats had been there. - -“Maybe they went back the way they came, Harry.” - -Harry paid no heed to this remark, but walked about the shore, stooping -now and then, examining it closely. He walked along the stream to its -nearest point to the deserted camp, but found nothing. Gordon sat on a -large rock by the shore, watching him. - -“Harry, you look like an Uncle Tom’s Cabin bloodhound.” - -Harry, meanwhile, had taken a stick and prodded it into the water under -the rock. “Pretty deep, eh?” he said. Then he felt of the rock by -Gordon’s side. His finger rested on what appeared to be a wet spot, but -it was perfectly dry. He leaned down and smelled of it. “Take a whiff of -that, Kid.” - -Gordon smelled it. “You can’t prove anything by me, Harry.” - -Harry vaulted on to the rock and sat by Gordon’s side. “You’d better -read up what your old college chum, General Baden-Powell, has to say -about smelling clues, my son,—that’s a grease spot.” - -“Maybe somebody laid a frankfurter there,” suggested Gordon. - -“More likely it was an oily rag out of a motor-boat. Now, kindly keep -your seats, ladies and gentlemen; the show is not over.” - -But Gordon, heedless, had taken a flying leap, and was sniffing the spot -with inquisitive enthusiasm. - -“I smell it! I smell it!” said he. “Oh, Harry, I smell it! It’s -gasoline! Eureka! Excelsior! or whatever they call it!” - -“I think not,” said Harry, quietly. “It was a wipe rag. Probably the -engine went on strike—as it naturally would if Walden monkeyed with it. -I never thought Walden’s bungling would be any use, but I believe he’s -done us a good turn here. Let this be a lesson to you, my son, never to -smoke cigarettes.” - -“Harry,” said Gordon, dramatically, “I never shall. But kindly tell me -what that’s got to do with a motor-boat—or with Walden, either—he -doesn’t smoke.” - -“No, nor any other scout. And you show me a fellow that smells an oil -stain in the open air after two days of rain, and I’ll deduce for you -whether he smokes cigarettes or not. You can take that little sermon -from your patrol leader, and if you don’t believe me, ask Red Deer.” - -“If I ever see him again, Professor Arnold.” - -“You’ll see him again, all right,” said Harry, examining the grease -spot. “Do you understand Latin?” - -“I can tell if there’s any quinine in a prescription, Harry.” - -“Well, listen to this: _In hoc signo vinces._” - -“Harry, _don’t_ tell me they’re in hock!” - -“No, some one came down here in a motor-boat, got the rest, and went -chugging back again.” - -“You’re a _perfect ghoul!_,” cried Gordon, mimicking Miss Crosby. -“You’ve picked up a loose chug—you _know_ you have! It’s just -_wonderful_!” - -“Do you want to know what _In hoc signo vinces_ means, you little -monkey?” - -“I shall never be happy till I find out.” - -“Well, then,” said Harry, pointing to the grease spot, “it means, “By -this sign thou wilt conquer.” - -“But I don’t see how you know they went off in the motor-boat, Harry. -Even supposing there was a motor-boat here, there’s nothing to show the -fellows went off in her. It might have been just somebody that stopped -here to visit the camp.” - -“Well,” said Harry, “they didn’t go back the way they came, that’s sure. -They’d never have left that note under the rock if they’d gone right -back past it. There’s no other road leading away from here, and I don’t -believe they’d have struck right across country. I’m pretty sure they -wouldn’t follow the railroad track either, so there’s nothing left but -the motor-boat. We shall now count the railroad ties from here to Port -Henry.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - AT THE FINISH LINE - - -“Now we’ve got something to go on,” said Harry, as they walked along the -road that skirts the shore. - -“You mean, _they’ve_ got something to go on, if your idea is right,” -Gordon corrected. “Think the sun’s coming out, Harry.” - -The belated sun was indeed breaking through the clouds. Harry saw from -his map that there was but one stream emptying into the lake between -them and Port Henry, and on reaching this they found that it was not -suitable for even a motor-dory. - -They had no intention of making inquiries in the village, their plan -being now to go up the lake shore till they found a boat, or boats, -moored, or streams to explore. They would march straight through the -village as if they did not know it was there. - -“I understand we’re not to recognize Port Henry, Kid?” - -“We’ll snub it, Harry. We don’t want to get any directions at the last -minute.” - -But Port Henry had something to say about this. She was not in the habit -of having people pass by without acknowledging her, and just at this -particular time she was putting on her holiday clothes. She always makes -a great splurge in the summer, and in the winter rolls herself up like a -bear and goes to sleep. - -It was well on in the afternoon when Harry and Gordon came in sight of -the town and decided to pitch their shelter in a little grove till -morning. For Gordon was too weary to go farther. As night came on, they -could see the lights of the village in the distance, and they busied -themselves speculating what the morrow might bring forth. - -Harry looked at Gordon critically. “Do you feel you need some meat, old -man? How are you, weak?” - -“No. Just tired. I’m going to turn in early.” - -“I’ll try for a rabbit if you say, Kid, but I’d rather not. If you’re -weak, just say so, and I’ll find you something hearty.” - -“Bacon and cereal will do for me, Harry.” - -“All right, then. Sit where you are—I’m going to learn that trick of -yours, making a fire. Here, get under the shelter and stuff these -cushions back of you. You’re all in, old man; take it easy now.” - -“Harry, this may be the last supper you and I’ll have together.” - -“Like enough, if we’re lucky.” - -“To-morrow’s the Fourth of July.” - -“So it is!” - -“I kind of wish we’d have a few days more of it, Harry.” - -“Why? Suppose you open up that egg powder—sit still now.” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” said Gordon; “I—I—kind of like being alone with -you, Harry.” - -“Same with me, Kid.” - -“I hope you’ll never move away from Oakwood, Harry.” - -“Not much danger of that; our house was built by my grandfather. Look -here, Kid, I know what’s the matter with you—you’re just dead tired.” - -“Your father might put up a new house somewhere else, like Mr. -Danforth.” - -“No sirree! We all think too much of the old shack; and anyway, if he -did, there’d be a room for the Black Ranger, all right, no matter where -it was. We’d think of a way, Kiddo.” - -“I don’t know how it is, Harry, I seem to learn things from you without -your teaching them to me—I just learn them.” - -“Nonsense!” - -“Don’t you think one fellow can learn better from another than from some -one else? I mean, Harry, if you think a whole lot of a fel—a person, -why, you’d learn more from him than—Now, I’ll never smoke a cigarette -after what you said, Harry, and it wasn’t like a lesson at all.” - -“Guess you’ll never learn much from me, old man—Hand me the saucepan, -will you?” - -“My father thinks I will—and anyway, I’m glad I’m in your patrol.” - -“Well, the patrol wouldn’t part with G. Lord for a seagoing yacht.” - -“Just the same, I’d like to be alone with you a little longer, Harry, -honest, I would.—I heard Red Deer tell my father how important it is in -camping to find pure water. He said fellows about the age of the older -ones in our troop are liable to typhoid fever. I hope you’ll never get -that, Harry.” - -“Kid, you’re a great old boy.” - -“Let’s feel your muscle, will you, Harry?” - -Harry went over, smiling, and bent his arm slowly back and forth. - -“My, you wouldn’t think a fellow as thin as you would have a muscle like -that, Harry.” - -Harry laughed outright, and doubling his fist, thrust it gently into the -younger boy’s upturned face. - -The next morning they went into Port Henry, and found the village in -gala attire. It was their purpose to hire a canoe, and continue their -explorations along the shore and up the smaller streams. This would be -easier than mountain-climbing (of which Harry thought Gordon had had -enough), and since there was now some reason to expect to find camp -along the shore, a little paddling about, as Harry said, would not go -half bad. - -“Port Henry’s dressed up as if she was going to graduate,—hey, Kid?” - -“She certainly has her pink sash on. I wonder what’s up.” - -The town was resplendent in bunting festoons and streamers, and every -store and house had its flag. The national emblem, of course, -predominated, but here and there hung a triangular, purple flag showing -the letters M B C in white, with an anchor beneath. - -Most of the stores were closed, and there was a general air of holiday -festivity among the little groups that talked excitedly here and there. -The city people were in festive array. Tennis-shirted and sneaker-shod -young gentlemen lolled about. - -“Cracky!” said Gordon, “the shoe business must be good here.” - -“Yes,” Harry answered. “I don’t suppose there was ever a shoe box but -was doomed to carry sandwiches sometime or other. There are a lot of -folks here from out of town.” - -Presently they were reading a big poster in one of the windows: - - REGATTA - MOHAWK BOAT CLUB - JULY FOURTH - - WATER EVENTS AT 2 P.M. SHARP - ROWING - SWIMMING - SAILING - - MUSIC BY PORT HENRY BAND - FIREWORKS IN EVENING - - BASEBALL! BASEBALL! - PORT HENRY VS. PLATTSBURGH - - _SPECIAL_ - GOODWIN, THE DARING AVIATOR, WILL - FLY IN HIS AIRSHIP TO VERMONT - AND BACK, ALIGHTING ON THE GREEN - -“Looks as if there were going to be some doings,” said Harry. - -“Not much chance of getting hold of a canoe to-day, I’m afraid,” -commented Gordon. - -They sauntered up the main street, and could not fail to notice that -several people turned and stared at them. Harry thought it was because -of their rather battered and disheveled appearance. As they passed the -post-office, a little crowd of city fellows called tauntingly after -them. - -“There’s a couple of them, now,” said one. - -“Hurrah for the Boy Spouts!” another shouted. “Sh-h-h!” said another. -“They’re on the trail of a deer—don’t disturb them!” - -Gordon glanced back, laughing cheerfully at his own expense, and noticed -that one of the fellows had a flag with the words WELDEN SCHOOL on it, -and that several others wore pale blue sweaters bearing a W on the -chest. - -“Them chaps is goin’ to win the regetty,” volunteered a black-coated man -near by, who looked pathetically uncomfortable in his gala attire. -“They’re champion experts.” - -“Bully for them,” said Harry, cheerily. - -Presently, as they passed a pleasant cottage, a woman with a battalion -of small children turned in at the gate. - -“Give me the key,” they heard her say to one of the boys. - -“I haven’t got it.” - -“Who has?” - -It appeared that none of them had. - -“Well,” said the woman, in despair, “we’re locked out, then. I _told_ -you to put the key in your pocket.” - -“So I did.” - -“Well, where is it, then?” - -“You told me I could leave off my jacket—it’s in my jacket pocket.” - -The woman stood frowning. - -“Could we do anything to help you?” said Harry, vaulting the low fence -and standing, hat in hand, before her. Gordon followed and stood beside -him. - -“I’m afraid not,” said she. “We’re locked out; it’s most exasperating. -John, you’ll have to run straight down to Mr. Berry’s and tell him to -come right up.” - -“Just wait a minute, please,” said Harry. “Maybe we can think of some -way to get in. All the windows are locked, I suppose?” He stepped out a -little and saw that a window above the doorway was open. From its sill a -flagpole projected. - -“You can never get in there,” said the woman. - -“Is that a hammock hook on that tree?” Harry asked. - -“Yes.” - -“The hammock doesn’t happen to be outdoors anywhere, does it?” - -The hammock was found to be behind the house, and Harry carried it to -the front doorway. The hammock itself, together with its two ropes, -formed a line perhaps twelve feet long, which was easily thrown over the -inner end of the pole. In a moment Harry had swung himself up to the -flagpole and reaching down from it was carefully brushing off the dust -which his feet had left on the flag. The woman watched him with an -amused smile. - -“That’s one of the first things we scouts have to learn,” Gordon told -her,—“respect for the flag.” - -Presently Harry opened the front door. The woman was very profuse in her -thanks. - -“There’s nothing to thank me for,” said Harry. “You know, I used to be a -burglar,” he added, laughing. - -“But you must come in,” she said. “I’m sure you’re strangers. What can I -do to repay you?” - -She insisted upon their following her into the cozy little sitting-room. -“It was nothing at all,” Harry said. “But if we might ask a favor, -perhaps you’d be willing to let us clean up a bit here. My friend—well, -I’m really ashamed of him—the fact is, we’ve been mountaineering.” - -Might they? Indeed they might! And they must also stay and have some -lunch. No, she would hear of nothing else. - -It is a scout’s duty to be polite and not to gainsay a lady, so -they—well, they stayed, in obedience to Section 5, Scout Law. - -When they thanked her and started forth from her hospitable roof, they -were quite presentable. She had insisted upon sewing several buttons on -Gordon’s uniform, all of which he had unearthed from various pockets, -and after a sponging process, he came forth glowing and immaculate. - -They had also learned something regarding the day’s program. Four rowing -crews were entered for a contest,—Plattsburgh, Port Henry, and a crew -of boys from the Welden School who were summering at Port Henry. The -Welden School was somewhere over in Vermont, or Massachusetts, she -thought. Then there was also another crew “from down lake somewheres,” -but she guessed the Welden boys would have things their own way. She -didn’t care much who won “s’long’s nobody got drowned.” - -The boys thanked her again and started for the seat of war. They found -both shores lined with people as far down as they could see. Harry had -hoped to get a glimpse of the racing craft and size up the contesting -crews, but the dense throng surrounding the boat-house and float made -this impossible. - -“Come on,” said he, “there’s nothing doing here. Let’s get down to the -finish. I don’t believe they’ll pull more than a mile.” - -They started down the road which skirted the shore, working their way -through a labyrinth of buckboards and three-seated stages and throngs of -spectators. Overhead, the sky was cloudless, and the sun poured hotly -down upon an army of parasols. Out in the lake it touched the still -water with gold, and here a little motor-dory, flying the boat-club’s -colors, chugged about, warning encroaching canoes off the course. It -seemed to be a thankless task, for as fast as one was driven back -another darted forward, until the busy, important little boat reminded -one of the old woman who lived in a shoe. Down at the finish, the throng -expanded into a seething mass. So close together were canoes and dories -that they seemed to form a solid float. On the shore, carriages and -autos were drawn up. The whole countryside had turned out in holiday -attire. - -Through this dense mass the boys managed, by a series of maneuvers, to -reach the shore, and soon stood at a point where they had an open view -up the river. The little official boat came chugging down past them, and -boldly essayed the task of ordering a handsome steam yacht to get beyond -the finish line. - -“We’re not on the course,” shouted its captain. - -“Yes, you are, sir,” answered the official bouncer; “you’ll have to get -downstream.” - -The boys listened to this dispute, which was within a few feet of them, -with a good deal of curiosity, for there is nothing so interesting as an -altercation in a public place, when suddenly there was a frantic waving -from the deck of the yacht. - -“Why, there’s Miss Crosby!” exclaimed Gordon. - -They waved their caps to her, and she suddenly disappeared. Evidently, -she had issued her orders, for the yacht, in utter defiance of rules and -regulations, was brought alongside a neighboring pier, and the crowd, no -doubt much impressed with its gorgeous appearance, for it was a -glittering combination of white and brass, opened to let the two boys -pass down and go aboard. - -“The _idea_!” said Miss Crosby, as she greeted them. “I never _knew_ -such downright _tyranny_! That’s the _only_ thing to call it! They seem -to think they _own_ the lake!” - -“I’m afraid it looks as if _we_ thought that,” said a genial voice, and -the boys turned in surprise to see Mr. Danforth coming toward them with -outstretched hand. “But we couldn’t pass right by you. Miss Crosby -said—” - -“Oh, I _never_ said _anything_ of the kind!” - -“He probably just deduced it,” laughed Harry, “whatever it was.” - -Mr. Danforth chuckled; he had evidently heard about their “deducing.” -“Well,” said he, cheerily, “who’s going to win the race?” - -“_We_ don’t even know the program,” said Harry. “We just dropped into -town.” - -“Still hunting?” laughed Mr. Danforth. - -“Still hunting,” said Harry. - -“Well, well, you must take an afternoon off and explain the events to -us; we’ve been hearing more about you from this young lady.” The young -lady gave him a very severe scowl, but it did not deter him in the -least. “She’s been very much interested in your trip, and we’ve been -comparing notes about you. Now, here we are, met again, all hands around -St. Paul’s, as you might say. By Jove, I’m sorry Pen isn’t here! Come -aft and let me introduce you to our little party.” - -The yacht had now steamed out of forbidden territory. Mr. Danforth led -the boys to an awning-covered stretch of deck, strewn with oriental rugs -and comfortable wicker chairs. The party consisted of Mr. and Mrs. -Danforth and their daughters, Miss Antoinette and her mother, and a -couple of gentlemen from the city. - -“Well, now,” said their host, “I don’t believe I’ll have the courage to -tell Pen we saw you. You’ll have to go home with us—that’s the only -way.” - -“Mr. Danforth was just saying,” his wife continued, “that he wouldn’t -dare tell Pen there was an aeroplane flight; but, I declare, I believe -he’ll be even more disappointed at not seeing you.” - -“Well, probably there won’t be any flight,” said one of the gentlemen; -“there usually isn’t.” - -“That’s so,” said Mr. Danforth; “the weather clerk finds it pretty hard -to suit an aviator. Now there isn’t a breath stirring to-day, and the -sailing race is off on account of the calm; but you just wait and see if -this fellow doesn’t come out with the statement that there’s too much -wind.” - -“Well,” said the other gentleman, “as I understand it, an aviator -sometimes means the air above—some distance up. They say the air is -always in more rapid circulation up a ways. And then, there are what -they call pockets of air—sometimes it’s full of those things up above -when it’s calm down here.” - -“Something like Gordon’s pockets, here, I suppose,” interpolated Harry; -“full of all sorts of junk—gusts of wind, odds and ends of squalls, and -things like that. I suppose those things would play the mischief with an -aeroplane. I don’t know much about the subject myself.” - -“He does, too,” said Gordon. - -“Kind of atmospheric spasms,” said Mr. Danforth. - -“Something like that,” answered his friend. “There’s a kind of little -fan they shoot up in the air which will often give them an idea how -things are up there—they’ve got to be careful.” - -“No life-saving stations up there,” laughed Mr. Danforth. “Well, I just -wish you could see Pen’s new model, Harry. The motor actually does go -for nearly a minute. It’s the most ingenious thing I ever saw. By Jove, -if the little fellow doesn’t win that contest, I believe it’ll kill him! -He’s just counting the days till we get to Oakwood.” - -The conversation was interrupted by the muffled sound of cheering along -the shore. The yacht was brought around so that the deck aft commanded a -vista of smooth water, reflecting in long perspective its bordering rows -of waiting spectators, and the party had an unobstructed view up the -course. Far up the shore, flags and caps were waving, showing that the -first heat had begun. - -The judge’s launch chugged around under the yacht’s stern and out into -midstream. The patrol boat, with a great deal of racket, made a final -cruise driving back unruly canoes and punts. Neighboring boats which -gloried in the possession of whistles, began tooting them. There was a -general bustle of suspense and expectation. The cheering up the course -rolled nearer like a wave. A gay little dory, containing a dozen fellows -in pale blue sweaters, who were shouting a club or school yell, shot -across the course, in laughing defiance of the judge, and took an -advantageous position. - -“Hurrah for Welden!” shouted some one. - -“Those boys are going to win in a walk,” called a voice under the -yacht’s rail. “They’re college trained.” - -Far up the course, two slender craft shot into view. Harry took the -glass from Mr. Danforth and saw that one of them was leading by more -than a length. As they neared, the space between them steadily -increased. He handed the glass to Miss Crosby. “The crew on the left are -rowing ragged,” he told her. - -“They may catch up,” she said excitedly. “Just _see_ how they splash!” - -“’Fraid not,” Harry answered. “It’s all over. It was won before it -began.” - -It was certainly won long before it was finished. Amid excited cheering -and frantic waving of flags, a single boat glided past the finish line. -The other crew had gone to pieces up the course. - -“Who are those that won?” Mr. Danforth called over the rail to one of -the boats that were clustered thick under the yacht’s stern. - -“The college boys,” some one answered. “Plattsburgh crew stopped to -fish.” - -“I don’t believe they did,” said the girl, incredulously. - -“No, I don’t either; there isn’t any good fishing up there,” said Harry, -soberly. - -“Who ought I to cheer for?” she asked, surveying the party. - -“Well, I guess those college boys are right in your line,” Harry said. -“They’re certainly first-class oarsmen. I believe they come from -somewhere over in Massachusetts, don’t they? What’s that their friends -are waving?” - -Amid much laughter, the blue-sweater crowd had hoisted a great banner -above their little craft, on which was printed in charcoal: - - These are our regulations,— - There’s just one fate for the scout, - And the hayseeds, too, - And when we’re through - They’ll look like all get-out! - -There were loud congratulations from the occupants of this launch to the -victorious crew, whom they boisterously pulled into their craft. The two -heroes, who, it was plain to see, were crack rowers, joined them in a -most complicated and idiotic conglomeration of rah, rah, rahs, cisses, -booms, and the usual vocabulary of victorious athletes. - -But the program had taken on a new interest for Harry and Gordon, and -they awaited the next heat with some suspense. To be sure, it was likely -enough that a town the size of Plattsburgh would have a troop of scouts, -or, for that matter, there might be a troop even in such a little -village as Port Henry. But the Oakwood boys had never given this a -thought, until now it appeared that a crew of scouts was to row in the -second trial. - -“That’s a pretty good one on you boys,” laughed Mr. Danforth, referring -to the placard. “What scouts do they mean, anyway?” - -“You’ve got _me_,” said Harry. “I don’t know; there must be a troop, or -at least, a patrol, organized somewhere round here. They’ll never outrow -that blue-sweater crowd, I can tell you that.” - -“Well, that’s a good taunt, anyway,” Mr. Danforth laughed. - -“_I_ think it’s _insulting_,” said Miss Crosby; “and it’s perfectly -_dreadful_ poetry.” - -By a series of inquiries among the jubilant throng below, the party -succeeded in learning that the next heat was to be between the Port -Henry boys and some boy scouts from somewhere. - -The moments seemed long before the excitement along the shore told that -the second pair of contestants were coming down the course. Soon they -shot into view, gliding abreast, as it seemed, with the little -power-boat of the referee close in their wake. Harry studied the crews -with his glasses, as the rise and fall of the oars became discernible. - -“They’re walking along, all right,” he said, handing Gordon the glass. -“Can you make out their flags?” - -They had left the three-quarters flag behind them, and the moving backs -of the rowers and the long sweep of the oars were plainly visible. The -rowing seemed mechanical—perfect. Each shell held its way wonderfully -between strokes. Neither bow swerved, but they came down through the -cheering, frantic crowds like two arrows. The flags, fluttering behind, -afforded no hint to those at the finish line, but as the shells neared, -loud shouts went up for Port Henry, and many flags were waved. - -A clumsy-looking motor-boat shot out from the shore, and followed in the -wake of the referee’s boat, as close as it dared. It held several -people, notably a man in white. The party on the yacht watched -breathlessly as the oars rose dripping from the water, paused a fraction -of a second in air, then plunged silently, uniformly, into the -sun-flecked lake. - -Far forward, far backward, leaned each crew with mathematical precision, -as the shells, side by side, sped on. Then one crept forward. - -“They’re hitting it up,” said Harry, as deafening yells rose about them. - -They were close on the finish line now, one nearly half a length ahead. -Cheers for Port Henry filled the air. “Come on! Row!” some one shouted. - -“You’re walking away from them!” - -The second boat’s prow was even with the forward rower of the rival -shell. Then it lagged even with the second oarsman. Then it fell astern, -amid a pandemonium of waving and yelling. - -“It’s all over,” some one called. - -Then a voice from the motor-boat following called, “Lengthen out!” - -The cry seemed to give new courage to the pair in the second shell. -Their prow again rode level with the second member of the rival crew. -Again they bent forward, their oars seemed for a second glued to the -boat’s side, and as they rose again she shot forward. Again, and still -again, the lithe forms bent, forward, back, and with each rise of the -straining figures the craft leaped forward. - -Now the two shells were even, their crews rowing like demons. Then again -amid the shouting from both shores, the voice from the motor-boat cried, -“Lengthen out!” and the shell which had regained its position darted -forward again, past the other boat, and amid a bedlam of yells, the -screech of whistles, and the frantic waving of a thousand handkerchiefs -and flags, glided past the finish line, a half-length ahead of its -rival. - -In the moment of triumph, one of the victorious rowers was seen to sway, -then sink forward. Harry could see it plainly—it was within a few yards -of the yacht. The referee’s launch chugged up; some one called to the -white figure in the old motor-boat, which was also drawing near. Others -paddled up with congratulations and inquiries. - -“Is there a doctor ashore?” some one called. - -“No need for that, sir,” said the white figure in the approaching -motor-boat. “I’m a doctor myself—just help me get him aboard here.” - -Harry clutched the rail, speechless. He knew that voice, he knew that -manner, he knew the glitter of the gold spectacles; yes, and he should -have recognized before the spotless suit of white duck. - -It was Red Deer. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - THE FATE OF THE BLUE SWEATERS - - -All this had happened amid so much confusion and excitement on the lake, -that before Harry realized it the stricken oarsman had been transferred -to the motor-boat, which went chugging back up the course. Then he and -Gordon stared blankly at each other. Even if they had had the presence -of mind to call to Dr. Brent, it is doubtful if they could have made -themselves heard above the tumult. - -“It was Red Deer, Harry.” - -“Sure it was—and that was Mac they lifted out.” - -“Who _is_ Red Deer?” asked Miss Crosby, excitedly. “Were those _scouts_ -that won?” - -For a moment Harry was too preoccupied to explain. “Yes, those were -scouts that won,” he then said abstractedly. - -The clamorous shrieking of the launch containing the blue-sweater -fellows brought them out of their daze. Their scoutmaster had actually -appeared and disappeared before them amid excited throngs here at this -remote little village. Two of their own fellow scouts had, by almost -superhuman effort, won a race before their very eyes. Yes, and those -were the only two fellows in the troop who could have done it—save one. -And now one of them had given out, and there was the final heat still to -be raced. - - “These are our regulations,— - There’s just one fate for the scout, - And the hayseeds, too, - And when we’re through - They’ll look like _all get-out_!” - -sang the college boys, triumphantly, as they chugged about. Their -boisterous, confident voices were greeted with laughter and cheers from -the shore. Soon, their well-trained, crack oarsmen would come down the -river, walking easily away from the scout crew, with its probably crude -substitute. - -“I wonder how Red Deer got himself mixed up with those cracker jacks,” -said Harry. - -“Harry, what’ll they do? They can’t put Nelson in—or Burt, -either—it’s—” Gordon looked imploringly into his friend’s face. - -“Well, my boy,” said Mr. Danforth, clapping Harry on the shoulder, -“where’s your voice? By Jove, that was a great victory! Why didn’t you -cheer? Eh?” - -“He’s deducing,” said Miss Crosby. - -Harry turned suddenly. “Mr. Danforth,” said he, “those fellows belong to -our own troop. Hanged if I know where they came from, but I—I—just -can’t stand here and see them beaten after putting up a race like that.” - -The girl’s eyes were fixed intently on Harry. Gordon listened, his hand -trembling on the rail. Down the course came muffled cheering, as the -victorious shell, with its single oarsman, was towed back to the -starting line. - -Then Miss Antoinette Crosby did a strange thing. She threw her arms -around Mr. Danforth’s neck, and whispered to him, concluding by saying -audibly, “Please, _please_!” - -That gentleman looked sharply at Harry, but said not a word. He walked -across the deck, and called below: - -“Captain, steam up the course as quick as you can!” - -In a moment the yacht’s bow came around, and a score or more of little -craft went scooting this way and that. Then her whistle sounded, -dignified and melodious compared with the screeching and tooting about -her, and she headed up the crowd-bordered lake. - -“Where are you going, sir?” came a voice from below. - -“Up the course.” - -“You can’t go up the course now, sir,” came from the patrol boat. -“You’ll have to stay below the finish line—you were told that before.” - -“It’s a matter of great importance,” Mr. Danforth called. - -“Can’t help it. Fetch her round.” - -“Take her up, Captain!” ordered Mr. Danforth, firmly. “Clear out under -there if you don’t want to be run into!” - -“What are they trying to do?” said a man in the judge’s boat, which came -chugging up. “Here, bring that craft about! None of that!” - -“Ahoy there, below!” shouted Mr. Danforth’s captain. “Stand out from -under if you don’t want to be run down!” - -The low, deep whistle sounded again, two gasoline dories chugged -frantically backward, and the big white yacht, serene and heedless, -steamed majestically up the course. - -“Didn’t I _tell_ you he _always_ has his own way?” said the girl, coming -up to Harry, who still leaned dazedly over the rail. “_Now_ you are -going to distinguish yourself—you’ve _got_ to—for _my_ sake!” - -“How did you know I wanted to take that fellow’s place, Miss Crosby?” - -“_Stupid!_” she said. “Do you think you’re the _only_ person that knows -how to _deduce_?” - -“I’m afraid it’s a hopeless task, Miss Crosby. I haven’t been in -training, you know. I’m all tired out, and they’re a pretty skillful -pair—those college chaps—then—” - -“They’re an _insulting, conceited_ set—and their _poetry_ is -at-ro-cious! You’ve _got_ to do it. You can beat them. I _know_ you -can!” - -“Well, I guess that will help me to win, if anything can,” Harry said. - -“Here, Harry, my boy,” said Mr. Danforth, coming up. “No time to be -standing around talking with girls now. Come down in the cabin, and -we’ll see if we can’t root out a jersey or bathing suit that’ll fit -you—we’ll be up there in a minute.” - -“Isn’t it _wonderful_! You’ve _found_ them at _last!”_ the girl said to -Gordon when Harry had gone below. “And just to think, _I_ was here to -_see_ you do it! And oh, I want _so_ much to see him row!” - -“You’ll see him row, all right,” said Gordon. - -“He can do most _anything_, can’t he?” - -“Yes—but he doesn’t know much about girls.” - -“Why, what makes you say _that_?” - -“’Cause he doesn’t. He doesn’t know as much as I do about them.” - -“The _idea_ of your saying _that_—he must know _lots_ of girls!” - -“He hasn’t had as much experience with them as I have—but, honest, -there’s nothing he can’t do—honest.” - -“Tell me about him, won’t you? About the things he can do.” - -Would he! - -All was excitement on the float as the yacht steamed by, headed for the -pier a few yards beyond. Evidently the oarsman who had collapsed was not -in a serious condition, for there was Dr. Brent talking with one of the -regatta committee. And there were Walden and Charlie Greer and Swift and -Waring and “Brick” Parks, crowding about him. - -“Looks good to see Parks’s red head, doesn’t it, Kid? Don’t shout, now, -just wait—it’ll only be a minute.” It was like an inspiration to both -boys to see the familiar faces. - -A racing shell containing two boys waited at the float. Each had a blue -sweater thrown over his shoulders. Another shell, empty, was moored hard -by. - -The yacht made a landing and Harry went ashore, followed by Gordon. Miss -Crosby stood at the rail watching them as they went over the side. - -“Remember,” she said, laughing, “it’s a scout’s _duty_ to _help others_. -You see, I know the law!” - -The boys hurried to the float and for a moment stood on the edge of the -little crowd, unobserved. - -“I’m sorry, sir,” said Dr. Brent. “There isn’t another oarsman I can put -in. I thank you for your kindness, but I’m afraid it will have to go by -default. You see, we’re not prepared for this kind of thing, anyway; -we’ve already accomplished more than I expected.” - -“Nothing doing?” called one of the oarsmen in the waiting shell. - -“’Fraid not,” answered some one in authority. - -Several fellows in blue sweaters, armed with gigantic megaphones, set up -a victorious howl. The Danforth yacht steamed gayly down the course. - -“Humph! All over. Those Welden chaps would win in a walk, anyway,” said -some one near Harry. Then he heard the referee speak to Dr. Brent from -his launch. - -“I’m going to start this crew down the course, sir, so that I can give -them the decision; you are not prepared?” - -The expression rang in Harry’s ears. It was the scouts’ own motto. - -He pressed his way through the crowd and stood, face to face, with his -scoutmaster and several members of the committee. - -“Yes, sir,” he said quietly; “we are prepared.” - -You could have knocked Red Deer down with a feather. As for Walden and -Charlie Greer and “Brick” Parks—you should have seen them. Vinton, the -Hawks’ corporal, stood gaping like an idiot. Then the sudden appearance -of Gordon broke the spell and turned the whole thing into a laugh. - -“Did you come up in that yacht?” asked the astonished Red Deer. - -“Yes,” said Harry. “We’ve been tramping around the country, looking for -you. How’s Mac—what’d he do, just faint? Hello, Burt, how’s everything? -Morrel, you’ve got your octagon staff along, haven’t you?” - -“Do you wish to enter this fellow?” some one asked, while the crowd -clustered about. - -“Will you try it, Harry?” asked the doctor. - -“What do you suppose we came up in a private yacht for?” asked Gordon, -who, being, as you might say, mascot of the troop, enjoyed the special -privilege of “talking up” to the scoutmaster. “There’s a magnet on that -yacht.” - -“A what?” said Dr. Brent. - -“Magnate, he means,” said Harry. - -The sudden appearance of the substitute did not seem to produce much -anxiety on the part of the blue sweaters. On the contrary, they regarded -his advent as affording them an opportunity of winning when they would -otherwise simply have had the race without earning it. The casual -glimpse they had of him gave them a good deal of amusement. He wore an -ill-fitting bathing jersey, his face had the tan of a countryman, and -the loose stride with which he approached the shell, followed by Pierce, -was not the stride of a trained athlete. There was no objection to his -rowing when it became known that he was a member of the troop. - -As many of the scouts as their old boat would hold crowded in and made a -bee line for the finish, Gordon among them, talking volubly. - -Harry looked the shell over as he and Pierce took their places. It was -quite the sort of racing craft which one might expect to find in a -country boathouse. It had two pairs of swivels, not very far from the -sides, and was, indeed, little more than a narrow, attenuated skiff. -Harry sat on the forward slide and for a few moments had some trouble -getting Pierce’s stroke. He was the last one in the world to row -jealous, but try as he would to accommodate his pulling to that of his -partner, he inevitably rowed him around every few strokes. - -He could not fail to see that Pierce was well-nigh played out. The other -shell was a full length in the lead, and gliding steadily along with a -length and evenness of swing that were beautiful to see. The crowds -cheered vociferously, and since both contestants were outsiders, there -was no encouraging word for the second shell as it wriggled along. - -Harry knew enough of pair racing to know that the forward oarsman is not -free, and having his doubts about Pierce’s vitality, he had wisely taken -the forward slide so as to watch him. It soon became plain that he must -accommodate himself to ragged and erratic work. Whenever Pierce swung -short or took a slack beginning, Harry had to exert himself to correct -his partner’s fault and hold the course. They managed to get together in -a spurt just beyond the half flag, and sent their prow up to the second -rower of the rival craft. But it soon lapsed into a series of pitiable -swerves, leaving them a full two lengths behind. With a coxswain, of -course, they might have done better, but as it was, their progress was -little better than ridiculous. The shouting along the shore had an -occasional note of hooting in it. - -“Let her run, Welden,” some one called derisively. “It’s all over.” - -“Those fellows came here aching for a race, and they haven’t had one -yet,” shouted a sonorous voice. - -The college boys were now more than three lengths in the lead, moving -like twin pendulums, with long, uniform, supple swings. Together their -oars rose, together plunged dripping, and steadily, without a tremor, -their shell glided forward. - -The leading shell was passing the three-quarters when Harry looked -around. In his hasty glance, he saw the finish, the gay flotilla with -its welcoming flags, the dense throng. He heard the premature tooting of -distant launches. - -“Hit her up, old man,” he said; “careful, now, one—two—” - -It was no use. “Where are we?” asked Pierce, breathing heavily. - -“There’s the three-quarters flag. Are you all in? All right, old -man—don’t try.” - -The disappointment in Harry’s voice could not be disguised, and it -spurred Pierce to a frantic final effort. He leaned far forward, plunged -his oar, made a long, steady stroke, then before he rose, a hand stole -over his own and the oar was taken from him. - -“That’s all right,” said Harry, gently. “Sit steady, old man,—not going -to keel over, are you?” - -Half-consciously, and with a feeling of utter relief, Pierce collapsed, -his head hanging forward, his hands clutching the gunwale on either -side. - -“That’s right,” said Harry. “Don’t lean back. I need the room. I’ll -splash you when I get her going.” - -Pierce did not know what it was all about; he did not care, but he was -vaguely conscious of ecstatic cheering and of a sudden dart forward. - -They were two racing oars that Harry had undertaken to manage—not a -pair of sculls—which meant that there was a full two feet more length -than a single arm was supposed to manipulate. He locked the oar into his -own empty swivel. His lithe, slender form bent forward till it almost -lay upon the prostrate figure before him. Then the quick, steady rise of -his body, past the perpendicular, back till he seemed to lie prone. Then -the quick, clean, firm lift of the dripping oars. Then the rapid, -elastic recovery of his body, the long, well-balanced forward swing, -accompanied by the straight reach of his arms. - -The shell glided forward under the impetus of this human machinery. -Again and again, without the variation of the fraction of an inch in any -move, the long pull was taken, and greeted with frantic howls from the -shore. His hair blew about his head with a kind of wild picturesqueness, -his movement was like an automaton—perfect, calm, indomitable. -Presently, a perfect pandemonium of yelling and screeching rang in his -ears. He glanced aside and saw that his prow was even with his rival’s -forward slide. They were now within a few feet of the finish. - -He pulled another stroke, then splashed water over Pierce’s head, as he -had promised. - -The rival oarsmen glanced at him, surprised, apprehensive. The launch -with the other blue sweaters approached as near as allowed, her -occupants shouting advice vociferously to meet this new turn of affairs. -Their placard was not in evidence. - -Close in the rear, Harry saw the referee’s launch clipping along, as if -awakened to sudden and necessary activity. He was vaguely conscious of -the dense, surrounding throng, of carriages and autos crowded in the -road, of canoes and dories packed tight at the water’s edge. - -He was desperate, but calm. He knew what he wished to do. He knew enough -of the sport to know that the sculler has one advantage, that of -spurting. Between contesting scullers, well-matched, the spurt at the -right moment usually means victory. If he could keep this position -through his rival’s “long stroke,” then he stood a chance. - -Presently, the order came. “Long stroke—hit her up!” shouted their -coach from the motor-boat. They darted ahead, had their little spasm, -and Harry remained exactly where he was before—his bow level with their -second slide. - -They were close on the finish line. The screeching was deafening. - -“Hit her up, boys!” came a laughing mandate from the Welden launch. -“Once more, hit her up, and let her run!” - -The judge’s dory swirled about to clear the way. You would not have -thought that Harry could give a longer swing nor pull a more effectual -stroke than he had been doing. Yet the shell, bearing the huddled and -exhausted scout and its single oarsman, darted silently forward like a -streak. Its prow lay even with the prow of the rival craft now. The boys -in blue sweaters yelled frantically to their crew, but their cries and -orders were drowned in the tumult. - -Again, and still again, the agile form swung forward. Again, and still -again, the shell responded, cutting the still, sun-flecked water like a -knife. Now she was half a length ahead. Then there was a sudden shake of -his head as the oars dipped, and his hair flew loose. It was a sight for -a painter. - -Throwing all his strength into the pull, uniting in a final effort the -utmost power and reach of arm and body, he swung back, his head hanging -in a kind of loose abandon from the exhaustion of the stroke. And amid -the frenzied cheering and clamorous waving of hats and flags, he swept -past the finish line. - -Just above him, as they brought the shell about, he could distinguish, -amid the screeching of a score of boats, the deep, melodious whistle of -the big white yacht. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - GORDON GOES UP IN THE AIR—ALSO HARRY - - -“Hey, Harry, come up here, will you? Gordon’s having a fit.” - -“Honest, Harry, you ought to see him—he’s wound up!” - -“On the level, Harry, he’s doing a hornpipe in the cabin—come on up, -don’t miss it!” - -“Say, Harry, come up here till we get hold of you! How did you ever -manage to do that, anyway? It was great! Gordon’s waving the field glass -round his head—we can’t stop him!” - -“Red Deer’s waiting to get his hands on you, old man—he’s got a scout -smile a yard long! You ought to get a special award for that! It was -great!” - -“That was wonderful, Harry! You deserve a vote of thanks for licking -those college fellows, but I don’t see how you did it single-handed!” - -The voices came from a group of scouts as they crowded at the yacht’s -rail. A rival group dragged him into a large, broad, dilapidated -fishing-smack, furnished with a gasoline engine. - -“I want all you boys to get out of that thing and come aboard here,” -called Mr. Danforth, seconded by the half dozen of the troop whose -presence he had already secured. - -Harry was literally pushed up the steps, the rest following him. - -“How are you?” said Dr. Brent, grabbing him with one hand and pounding -his shoulder with the other. Mr. Danforth very cheerfully pushed Dr. -Brent out of the way. “Harry, my boy, how are you? It was magnificent! -You’re a wonder! How do you feel?” - -“Fine and dandy,” smiled Harry. - -“You must be all played out,” said Morrel. “Do you feel like a cup of -coffee?” - -“Do I _look_ like a cup of coffee?” Harry laughed. “Where’s the Kid, -anyway?” - -“The Kid went up in the air when you touched the finish line and hasn’t -come down yet. He told us all not to speak to you till he’d seen you -first—didn’t he, Tilford?” - -“Sure, they’re all crazy about you here, Harry. You’ve got them -hypnotized. Gordon’s applied for a patent on you.” - -“Say, Harry,” said Charlie Greer, the Beavers’ corporal, “we’ve been -writing to Oakwood. Where’ve you been, you old tramp? Gordon says you’ve -been doing light housekeeping on the top floor of old what’s-its-name -mountain.” - -“Yes, I’ve been cooking for the Kid,” Harry answered. “He’s a whole -famine in himself.” - -“Harry, those were regular rowing oars, weren’t they? How did you manage -’em, anyway?” - -“Yes, they were as long as a spelling lesson. I believe it was that -placard those fellows had that helped me. I just couldn’t stand for -that. Hel-lo, Langford, old boy! Well, it’s good to see your pudgy -face!” - -“Sh-h-h, here he comes,” cried Roy Carpenter, the Hawks’ patrol leader, -as Gordon’s head became visible above the companionway. - -“Dearie me!” said Waring. “Let’s get from under!” - -Gordon made a dive for Harry, and grabbed him. “Come down, come down!” -said he. - -“Hello, Kid, down where?” - -“Downstairs—she—she—” - -“Go ahead, Harry boy,” said John Walden, knowingly. “By _all_ means, -go!” - -But Harry had no choice. - -“I thought _I_ would _wait_ until you had seen your _friends_,” said -Miss Crosby, shaking hands with him, “to _congratulate_ you for your -perfectly _wonderful_—” - -“Did you have a good view, Miss Crosby?” - -“Saw _everything_. And your friend explained things to me. Oh, he’s -_such_ an interesting little fellow, and he isn’t a _bit_ bashful, is -he?” - -“Well, not so you’d notice it,” said Harry. - -All of Mr. Danforth’s party had now to congratulate him, and in the -midst of it Raymond Vinton, corporal of the Hawks, appeared in the -doorway of the cabin. - -“Mr. Arnold,” said he, with a profound air of mock deference, “Goodwin, -the daring aviator, has just sent a special message aboard asking if the -victor of the boat-race would like to take a little joy ride with him -over to Vermont. What shall I say?” - -“Oh, _isn’t_ that just _lovely_!” said Miss Antoinette. - -“Great,” answered Harry. “Things are certainly coming my way. Here, -Raymond, have you met Miss Crosby? Miss Crosby, Mr. Vinton is corporal -of the Hawk Patrol, such as it is, and he’s great on deducing. You just -waste a few minutes talking to him, won’t you, while I go on deck and -see if they’re trying to guy me.” - -But they were not “guying” him. Sure enough, there in a boat at the foot -of the yacht’s steps sat a young man in a pair of greasy overalls. It -was Goodwin’s mechanic. - -“Harry,” said Dr. Brent, “go by all means. It’s a chance not to be lost. -It isn’t every one who has such a dramatic opportunity of breaking his -neck. And when you return, if you do, you’ll find the troop up at the -float. If you are inclined to accept the poor hospitality of our humble -camp after all this,” he added with a humorous smile, “you’ll find us -waiting for you with the _Swan_.” - -“The how?” asked Harry. - -“The _Swan_, my boy, the boat you just saw. It is ours till September -first—ours and paid for. Harry, my boy, I can see by the look in your -eye that you are going to call your scoutmaster down for getting the -troop mixed up in this racing affair—but we couldn’t resist the -invitation, and your corporal, acting for you, voted to see it through. -But as for the _Swan_, Harry, I will not hear one word against her.” - -“She looks as if she might do a mile or so an hour—with the current. Is -it _your_ joke, Doctor?” - -“I hired her from a country youth after scouring the country. If you -choose to join the mockers, do so. I stand by the _Swan_, Harry, I’m -afraid it’s going to be a job to drag the boys off this yacht, but it’s -got to be done. Your friend Mr. Danforth is great!” - -“They’re moving to Oakwood this Fall.” - -“So I hear—that’s fine. Well, my boy, you’d better be off for your joy -ride.” - -It was hard for Harry to say good-by to his genial host and the party on -the yacht, but he made the rounds of the cordial group, promising to see -them in the Fall—at least, the Danforths and Miss Crosby, who told him -that she would _surely_ be in Oakwood to see little Pen win the aero -contest. - -With many expressions of good-will from Mr. Danforth, and a good deal of -mock deference from the troop, he got into the little boat and was rowed -ashore. The man in the greasy overalls led the way to a spacious green -near by, around which a rope fence had been stretched. The enclosure was -already lined with people. Others, more anxious to witness the flight -than to examine the machine, were comfortably seated on rocks or -sprawled on the grass outside. The man’s greasy overalls acted as a -password, and the crowd opened to let him cross the rope with Harry. - -“That’s the fellow,” said some one, alluding to Harry, who gave no heed -to the comments on himself, for his interest was fixed on the center of -the field, where a perfect whirlpool of dust was rising, almost entirely -obscuring the aeroplane. - -“They’re trying out the motor,” the man explained. - -“Jiminy!” said Harry. “She goes some, doesn’t she?” - -“Four hundred and seventy turns a minute,” said the man. - -“How fast will that send her?” Harry asked. - -“Forty miles an hour against a brisk wind.” - -“How fast do you suppose that would send a small boat?” - -“Now you’ve got me—they don’t have to figure so much for slip in the -water. Water’s a dense medium; but the air’s thin; you’ve got to -remember that. You interested in air work?” - -“Why, yes,” said Harry, “but I’m not very well posted. What’s the pitch -of a propeller, anyway?” - -“That’s its angle—you can’t get two aviators to agree about that. Mr. -Goodwin uses an eight-foot fan. You see, if we got the full benefit of -those four hundred and seventy turns we could make a streak of lightning -look like a snail, but you understand it’s like walking up a -treadmill,—you’ve got to walk like the mischief to keep ahead of the -game. Mr. Goodwin saw you win that race. Well, here we are.” - -It surprised Harry a little to hear this grimy-faced, besmirched, greasy -young man talk so intelligently. But the experience is not uncommon for -those who interest themselves in aviation. A machinist or electrician -who lays down his ordinary work to devote his skill to the conquest of -the air, usually does so by reason of an ardent love of the science; and -there is not a more scientific and competent set of mechanics than those -who have attached themselves to successful aviators. - -Goodwin, an active little man, with keen black eyes, came forward from -the little group surrounding the machine to welcome Harry. - -“Ah,” said he, “that was a splendid race. I congratulate you. It -occurred to me that you might like to go up with me—eh?” - -“Indeed, I should,” said Harry. “It was good of you to ask me.” - -“Not at all, there’s an empty seat, if you’re not afraid.” - -“Not much,” laughed Harry. “I’d have come a long way for this chance.” - -“We haven’t got much air to stand on,” said Mr. Goodwin. “We’ll have to -speed a bit, I think.” - -“We won’t get arrested for speeding, anyway,” suggested Harry. - -“True enough,” laughed the aviator, as he went about his machine, trying -the wire bracing as one tries the strings of a harp. “If there’s -anything you want to know, my boy, just fire away. These reporters have -got me worked up so I’m a regular ‘Questions and Answers Column’ in a -newspaper. Now’s your chance—any posers?” He glanced whimsically at -Harry, who was already absorbed in an inspection of the graceful medley -of wing and wire and polished struts. - -The machine was a biplane of forty-two feet lateral extent, with forward -stability planes similar to the Wright model. Instead of the tips of the -main planes being flexible, however, which is a chief feature of the -famous Wright machine, the lateral stability of the craft was controlled -by hinged wings, midway between the upper and lower planes at each -extremity, more after the fashion of the Van Anden device. Harry noticed -the curve of the main planes, for he had heard that here lay one of the -elusive secrets of aviation and a rule which would apply as well to a -boy’s model as to a man-carrying craft. The cross-ribs rose rather -abruptly from the front an inch or more above the forward horizontal -framing, then curved evenly back. The curve of the canvas was not the -arc of a circle at all, but a sort of humpback shape, cleverly designed -to catch the air in front, imprison it for the fraction of a second, and -pour it slowly out under the rear to make room for more. Many a stick -had been steamed and bent and dried and thrown away before that ugly, -but efficient, curve had been decided on. - -“I must see that Pen has his planes flexed right if we have to go out -and harpoon a whale to get the whalebone,” thought Harry. - -The strength and perfect rigidity of the machine were obtained by a -multiplicity of wire braces running in every direction. There was some -good reason for the presence of _every_ stick and brace, for every -little curve or turn. Even the canvas was laid on diagonally for the -bracing effect it might have. And though the machine looked simple, -considering its great responsibility, Harry could well believe that -every detail of it was the result of years of study and experiment. - -For the aeroplane is not a discovery, nor an invention, either, in the -ordinary sense, but the combined application and the nice adjustment of -a dozen worked-out principles and a hundred ingenious devices for riding -the baffling and unstable air currents. Every jut and turn, every little -projection, every eccentric form of wing or plane or rudder, had its -scientific explanation. Yet most boys who see an aeroplane think they -can go and build one. But the money which is often expended for wood and -tools might better be used to purchase books containing the rudimentary -facts, a knowledge of which has made the conquest of the air possible -and goes far to make it safe. - -Two seats, side by side, were cozily placed in the center between the -upper and lower planes, with the control device near at hand, and thus -every movement that a bird makes,—the flex of wing, the flap of tail, -the guiding tendency of this or that little stir of throat and -body,—was at the command of the operator. The telescope, the first tool -of aviation, had forced the swallow and the sea-gull to yield up their -secret, and here it was amid a network of frame and wire, at the service -of man. - -Goodwin’s voice aroused Harry from his absorption. “No questions -answered after the train leaves,” he said. Harry felt very much at home -with him already. Here was a man, unaffected, simple, offhand, -competent, self-assured, and levelheaded. Nothing of the crank or the -visionary,—the kind of man who helps to advance the science of -aviation. - -“I thought the propeller looked pretty big across the field,” said -Harry; “but it doesn’t look so big now. That all there is to the -motor,—just that that’s on the propeller?” - -“That’s all, but it’s enough,” Mr. Goodwin answered. - -“It makes a whole lot of fuss, anyway.” - -“Right you are, and she fits like a suit of clothes. It isn’t wholly a -question of how much power you have, you know, but does the power fit? -That’s the question. See?” - -“But doesn’t more power mean more speed?” Harry asked. - -Goodwin laughed. “No, not exactly. The motor sustains the machine in -flight. Now, if there’s a good big supporting wing area, why, the engine -can be smaller—it’s got to be, in fact.” - -“I’m afraid I’ll have to go to the foot of the class,” laughed Harry. - -“So? Why? You never studied the subject? Well, see here, now, I’ll give -you the A B C of it and then we’ll hop in. The more spread there is, the -less supporting work the propeller has to do. So a powerful motor fits a -small machine, and a big machine takes less power to get the same -results. Now, you take Curtiss; he cuts down his planes, makes his -machine small, and what’s the answer? Does he get along with less power? -No, he needs more. You see, it isn’t a case of more power, more speed. -It’s having your power to _fit_ your machine. The propeller is more than -a propeller,—it’s a sustainer as well. Stop the propeller of a boat, -and the boat stands still. Stop an aero propeller, and down she comes. -Propeller keeps her up and keeps her going—two jobs. If you lessen your -support in one way, you must make it up in another. An aeroplane is -sustained by its speed with help from its planes. Well, now, the more -area you have, the less the motor has to do. You’ve heard aviation -compared to sailing, and that’s just the very thing that it isn’t a bit -like. Did you ever skate on thin ice? Well, there you have it. If you -want to keep from going in, skate fast. Now, if you put a large motor on -a large machine, you don’t get a normal increase of speed, by any means. -So you see, it’s not a question of power—it’s a question of a nice, -neat fit, as you might say.” - -Harry remembered this later, when he saw more than one model aeroplane -lurch and flutter to the ground, to the amazement and disappointment of -its young maker. And when he returned to Oakwood, he remembered the -words of his aviator friend, “It isn’t a question of power—it’s a -question of nice, neat fit.” - -“That’s a gnome motor,” concluded Mr. Goodwin; “revolving type, -air-cooled, saves the weight of a fly-wheel because the whole thing is a -fly-wheel in itself. Is she all right, Joe? Hop in, then, my boy.” - -It was a moment that Harry Arnold never forgot. He would have liked to -study the machine a little longer before taking flight, for every detail -of it excited his keenest interest. It seemed almost incredible that -this man who climbed into the seat beside him could be so offhand about -so momentous a thing as mounting and riding the invisible air, but he -got in as if he were about to drive a familiar horse along a quiet -country road. - -Two men stood behind the main planes, steadying them, and the mechanic -stood at the center, at the end of the bird-like tail, where the -vertical rudders were placed. - -The aviator placed one foot conveniently near a small pedal beneath him. -His other foot and both of Harry’s rested on a bar, which was all that -kept their legs from dangling loosely over the edge of the lower plane. -On the outer side of each seat rose one of the supporting struts of the -plane above them, forming a convenient handle to steady oneself by. - -Mr. Goodwin put his hands on either side of a wheel before him, placed -like the steering gear of an automobile. Beside him was an upright -lever. He wet his finger and held it up. Then he pulled out a little -strip of cheesecloth and held that up. It fluttered a little to one -side. “A little to the left, Joe,” said he. The man at the tail pulled -the machine about till it faced directly into the breeze—what little -there was. Then one of the men at the end came forward and began kicking -stones out of the way. - -The suspense, to Harry, was delightful. Even here on the ground his -position was one of openness and freedom. Below him there was nothing -but the bar on which his feet rested. His position, little more than a -comfortable perch, gave him a first thrill of exhilaration. - -“Run her out, Joe,” called the aviator. - -There was a little jerk, and the machine started along the ground, -gathering speed till it clipped along at a good pace. Harry saw the men -at the ends of the planes pushing and steadying. Their chests were about -level with the lower plane. Presently, Goodwin put his foot on a little -button, and Harry nearly jumped from his seat from the sudden whir -behind him. Louder and more tumultuous it grew, till it rivaled the -noise of a sawmill. He saw one of the men at the plane ends reaching up. -Yes, they had left the ground. The frame vibrated, sending little -tremors through him. They were skimming along toward the encircling -crowd. - -Presently, Goodwin, holding the wheel steadily, pulled it toward him. -The little pair of horizontal planes, resembling a box kite, which were -situated about twelve feet in front of them, turned slightly on their -axles so that Harry could not see between them now, and he was presently -conscious of a backward tilt of his body. They were rising. The noise of -the propeller just behind him was deafening. The whole frame was -convulsed with its movement. It was plain now that every wire was -needed. - -Harry clasped the upright by his side and looked down. The line of -spectators blurred as the machine passed over it. Then, as they mounted -higher, following the tilt of the forward runner, things became clearer, -until, about three hundred feet from the ground, land and crowd took -their proper perspective, and Harry saw beneath him hundreds of upturned -faces. - -He now felt scarcely any motion at all. When he closed his eyes, he -could not have told that he was moving, save for the wind in his face. -The deafening roar of the fan made questions impossible unless he -yelled, and the aviator seemed too much occupied to talk. - -Soon, still holding the wheel stiff, Goodwin pushed it from him, and the -little planes in front twirled back to their former position, while the -back of Harry’s seat seemed to be pushing him forward. Now, he could -look straight between these two little forward planes again, and he knew -the machine was coming to an even keel. They were at a height of five -hundred feet or more, heading directly across the lake. Now and then, -Goodwin turned the wheel slightly, and once, as he did so, Harry glanced -behind him, and could just make out, through the whirring fan, the two -vertical planes at the end of the tail turning a little to right or -left, like a fish’s tail. - -The seat was not equipped with springs, yet there was no jolting; -indeed, there was no sense of motion at all, except for the wind, and -the terrific straining and vibration of every part of the machine. Yet -the boats in the lake beneath them receded, and in a little while they -were above the Vermont shore. - -Now, again, the forward planes turned slightly and the greater spreads -of canvas followed them obediently upward, till Harry reclined against -the back of his seat as in a steamer chair. When they came to an even -keel again he realized that this had been done to clear the tree-tops on -a hill well in from the Vermont shore. The absence of all sense of rapid -motion continually tempted him to release his hold of the supporting -bar, only to grasp it again whenever he looked at the tiny specks below, -and at the lake winding its way like a river on a map. - -Now, for the first time, the operator placed his hand on the lever, -still holding the wheel stiff with the other hand. The hinged planes, -out at the end between the main planes, rose on the right-hand side and -sank on the left-hand side simultaneously. There was a sense of sudden -lift, the left end of the craft rose higher, higher, till the machine -swung full to the left. There was no jolting, only a delightful -consciousness of being swept around. Now, again, the crowd on the New -York side was clear to view. Again the lake, with its tiny, screeching -boats, stretched below them. When they were almost above the field -whence they had started, the vibration became less furious, the -propeller slowed down, stopped. A grateful silence prevailed. - -“Anything wrong?” asked Harry, apprehensively. - -“No, indeed,” said his companion. - -The machine coasted slowly, easily, downward, held stable by the lever -control, with an ever so slight declining of the forward planes. Harry -did not know when they touched the ground. When he alighted, he saw the -tracks of the wheels for fully fifty feet behind. And it was only in -that way that he was able to determine where the aeroplane had left the -unstable and invisible currents of sustaining air for the homely but -reliable support of good old Mother Earth. - -“Look at him,” said Goodwin, with a grin, as he climbed out. - -“It’s easy to tell he’s one of those scouts we hear so much about,” -laughed a reporter who stood near. “First thing he does is to go back -and study the tracks!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - MAKING THE GLIDER - - -“Now, you see, Harry, if I hadn’t stopped to do that good turn for Miss -Leslie, and missed the train, you wouldn’t have had a ride in an -aeroplane,” said Gordon, as he hitched up his stocking and settled -himself comfortably in the boat for the voyage to camp. “And you fellows -would have lost the boat-race, too.” - -“We don’t appreciate what a blessing G. Lord really is,” said John -Walden, Hawk. - -“And he wouldn’t have met Miss Crosby, either,” continued Gordon. - -“He ought to be very thankful to you,” said Tom Langford, Beaver. - -“That’s the great thing about having a good-turn specialist always right -on hand,” said Vinton, the Hawks’ corporal. “When things are kind of -slow, he just up and does a good turn, and presto! there’s something -doing for everybody! Why wouldn’t it be a good idea, Red Deer, to have a -‘good turn’ badge? We have the marksman’s badge, and the trackers’ -badge, and so on.” - -“We might suggest that to headquarters,” smiled Dr. Brent. - -“Well, anyway, Red Deer,” said Gordon, “here’s a sticker for you. -Suppose you have your choice of doing a good turn or being prepared, now -which should you do?” - -Red Deer pondered a moment. “Well, you see, Gordon, if you do a good -turn, that includes being prepared; you _are_ prepared—to do the good -turn. See? But if you just keep your mind on being prepared, and don’t -think about good turns, why, then, the good turn often gets left. -Technically, doing a good turn necessitates being prepared. You see, -when a scout is a good-turn specialist, as you are, that really carries -everything else with it. Of course, it is a nice question that you -propound, and scouts might differ about it. Lawyers can never agree as -to the law, you know—” - -“That’s just what Mr. Danforth said,” interrupted Gordon. - -“But if I were you,” continued Dr. Brent, smiling whimsically, “I should -go right on and carry out your regular policy—good turns first—then -trust to luck.” - -“And the best turn you ever did,” said Brick Parks, “was to come up and -find us, Kid. The camp wasn’t complete without you.” - -“Well, anyway,” said Gordon, “we’re all lopsided.” - -“What’s that?” said Dr. Brent, puzzled. - -Gordon hitched up his stocking, and launched forth with a complete -account of his great discovery, with the result that Dr. Brent, who was -steering, had to give the wheel to George Conway, until he was -sufficiently recovered to take it in charge again. - -Half of the troop had gone on afoot, and by taking a short cut across -country reached camp first. The boat made its way to a point about two -miles north of the village, then up a stream for half a mile, and there -in a grove of silver birches was the Oakwood Scouts camp. - -“Well, here’s the needle in the haystack, Gordon,” laughed Dr. Brent, -stepping out. - -“By the way, Kiddo,” said Harry, as they joined the group ashore, “you -were telling me of a way to find a needle in a haystack, the night -before we started; you fix a magnet to the end of a long stick—” - -“And then poke the stick in here and there,” continued Gordon, “and -pretty soon you’ll find the needle sticking to the magnet; but of course -there are other ways, and I thought if we didn’t find the troop one way -we’d find them another. One way is, you—you—sit around on the haystack -and—well—you just—pretty soon, you know, you’ve found the needle.” - -“And that’s the way you found the troop,” laughed the doctor. - -“Yes,” said Gordon. - -“Have an apple, Kid?” said Morrel, pointing to a basket. - -“Sure!” said Gordon. - -The camp-fire burned late that night, for Gordon Lord recounted their -adventures. It was an unabridged version and held the boys spellbound -till midnight. It was in vain that Harry tried to modify this or that -detail which reflected credit on himself, and it was in vain that Red -Deer looked ruefully at his watch when one or other of the party added -fuel to the already imposing blaze. Being a wise scoutmaster, he saw -that Gordon’s enthusiasm, like the measles, must run its little course, -and the sooner it was over the better. - -“Now,” said Gordon, finally, “it’s time to discuss our attack on Fort -Ticonderoga and—” - -But here Red Deer put his foot down, and the discussion was put over -until the next day. - -That night Gordon and Harry slept in their own tent, with their own -patrol, under the Beavers’ banner. And they slept hard. But Dr. Brent, -alone in his little tepee, broke the rules unseen, and sat up until the -wee hours of the morning. The week they had spent in camp had not been -an idle one, and he had in a good-sized wallet various papers and -memoranda which would mean promotion and awards upon their return to -Oakwood. - -For one thing, Brick Parks, in spite of his red head, had succeeded in -getting near enough to a variety of birds and woods creatures to shoot -them with his camera, which is the only way a scout shoots except in -case of need. He needed only to develop his films and make prints, and -the stalker’s badge would be his. - -Then there was Howard Brent, the doctor’s nephew, who had at last, after -a terrific struggle, mastered the Morse code, and would, so the camp -gossip said, cease to be a tenderfoot before the summer was over. - -Matthew Reed would glory in the marksmanship badge, if he kept up his -crack target work, and Dan Swift and Johnnie Walden would wear the -first-class badge before another camping season. - -To these memoranda Dr. Brent added the letter from Mr. Wade, which -recommended Gordon for the medal given for saving or helping to save -life, and Harry for the signaler’s badge. On the back of this letter he -made a memorandum of his own, about the saving of little Penfield -Danforth’s life. Then he wrote a letter to Mr. Lord, and turned in for -the night. - -The idea of attacking old Ticonderoga, and winding up with a great laugh -on the genial, but skeptical, Mr. Wade, took the Oakwood boys by storm, -to say nothing of Red Deer, who was having the time of his life among -them. He was a man of about thirty-five, was Red Deer, whose great -recreation was getting among the boys, and he had organized the Oakwood -troop quite as much for his own pleasure as for theirs. None of the boys -could beat Red Deer when it came to roughing it He could take off his -neat gold spectacles, fold them up, lay aside, his spotless white duck -coat, and show you some fencing that was beautiful to see. Whenever he -methodically and carefully removed those precious gold specs, and said, -“Hold these a minute, Ben,” or “Harry,” as the case might be, the boys -knew there was going to be “something doing.” - -Whenever Gordon was about to undertake one of his unusual feats, it was -his mischievous habit to put his two hands up to his ears, making the -funny little twirl as if to remove a pair of spectacles, and by this -sign the boys knew that something remarkable was about to take place. -The doctor, who saw everything, had seen this, and it amused him -greatly. - -Whenever Dr. Brent’s trim little runabout stopped before a residence in -Oakwood, you might be sure of seeing a boy or two sitting comfortably -beside him, for one or several of them were always about him; and the -little Red Cross on the front of his white automobile might -appropriately have had placed beside it the full badge of the scouts. -What is more, Red Deer had the Master-at-Arms badge, for he was not -going to be handing out honors and earn none for himself, and his -wrestling and jiu jitsu were the envy of his two patrols. In baseball, -he played a very heady game at “first,” and his skyscrapers were famous. - -For Harry Arnold, Dr. Brent had an unbounded esteem, and since it was -one of his pet theories that laughter was a great medicine, he took -frequent doses of it at the hands of Gordon Lord. In short, Red Deer was -a true sport, and the proposition to go up the lake about the middle of -August to repeat the historic assault on the old fort touched him in a -susceptible spot. “We’ll do that,” said he, rubbing his glasses with a -spotless handkerchief. “Harry, you’ll be Ethan Allen. Don’t argue now—I -appoint you—I’ll make other appointments later.” - -But there was a full month before this plan could be carried through, -and judging from all appearances there was much to occupy the time. For -one thing, Gordon was going to pull himself up to the first-class rank -this summer, which means that his activities are worth watching. - -Harry was full of aviation. His meeting with Penfield had kindled an -already existing spark, and his flight with Mr. Goodwin had fanned it to -a flame. Now here, to cap the climax, were Howard Brent, Matthew Reed, -and Ben McConnell, or Mac, of the Hawks, and Tom Langford of his own -patrol, with a good store of pliable, selected willow which they had -gathered for the manufacture of their models to be entered in the -Oakwood contest that Fall. But not a word did Harry say to them of the -wonderful combination motor which Penfield was going to spring on the -multitude, for he was not going to lessen the boy’s glory a particle. -Meanwhile, the others worked away on their models, introducing rudders -and so forth, of any shape and size, to suit their fancies. - -One day, about a week after his arrival, Harry came in from one of his -rambles (for he was fond of going off alone at times), and squatted on a -rock under the cooking lean-to, where several of the boys were binding -their frames with coarse linen thread. - -“What’s the matter, old chap—blues?” asked Mac, with an end of thread -in his mouth. - -Harry laughed, for, oddly, it was a question often asked him. - -“Where’s G. Lord, Esquire?” asked Matthew Reed. - -“Don’t know,” said Harry. “He’s after his first-class badge these days. -How’s that old balloon silk shelter you had last year, Howard?” - -“Why, it hasn’t written me lately. It was a little under the weather -when we camped last season.” - -“That a joke, Howard?” said Mac. - -“Well, you remember it rained, and the shel—” - -“Kill him, if he tries to explain it,” piped up Tom Langford. - -“Why, what’s up?” asked Howard. - -“I was thinking we might make a glider,” Harry answered. “Red Deer’s -talking of having us throw a bridge up, Baden-Powell fashion—over that -chasm. A glider would be more sport, and help us over, too.” - -“You’ve surely got the aeroplane bee in your bonnet, Harry,” said Mac. - -“Well, how about it?” said Harry. - -“Looks good to me,” said Langford. “Where would we get the stuff?” - -“Now you’re talking,” said Harry. “Has this aero club any financial -backing?” - -“If you mean, is this aero club able to launch a glider—” - -“That meant for another joke?” asked Mac, picking up a stone. - -“The answer is, Yes, several of them. The question is, we have one -Beaver in the club already; could we stand for another?” - -“Of course, it would be an advertisement to have Harry Arnold a member.” - -“Let up on that,” said Harry. “Do you want to build one, or don’t you?” - -“Surely we do,” said Mac, becoming serious. - -“Well, then,” said Harry, “we’ll need four sticks,—spruce sticks would -be best,—twenty feet long, and we’ll need Howard’s old piece of -balloon-silk, if we’re going to go up against the wind—” - -“The first thing is to go up against the doctor,” said Matthew. - -So Red Deer was taken into their councils. The upshot of it was that -Howard Brent, Matthew Reed, Mac, Tom Langford, and Harry spent the rest -of the morning with Dr. Brent making and criticising little diagrams on -one of the doctor’s prescription pads. - -“I think,” said Red Deer, at length, “that that is about all you’ll -need; the cross-ribs that are left over we can use for splints, in case -of broken arms and legs—they’ll come in very handy.” - -The five boys went into Port Henry in the boat that afternoon in search -of a sawmill or lumberyard. - -“When G. Lord hears of this taking place in his absence, he’ll explode,” -said Tom, as they chugged up the lake. - -Their first business was to send a telegram for Howard Brent’s old -balloon-silk shelter, which would, with piecing, amply cover the two -planes. - -“What would you say if I sent for my old wheel?” asked Mac. The -suggestion was received with acclaim, for an old bicycle is a perfect -treasure house of fittings, wire bars, and various odds and ends useful -to the ingenious amateur mechanic. So Mac, with much adding and -eliminating and changing of words, finally succeeded in concocting a -satisfactory message to his father. - -“Better underline the word ‘old,’ Mac,” said Harry, quietly, “or he may -send your new one.” - -McConnell dutifully obeyed, while the operator grinned. Then, realizing -what he had done, Mac proceeded to administer suitable chastisement on -Harry. - -“Do you think your father can make out your handwriting?” Tom asked -innocently, as they went out; “that was a pretty hasty scrawl.” - -Mac could hear the operator snicker. “I’ll put a hasty scrawl on your -face, Tommy,” he said. - -At the mill they bought and had trimmed four spruce sticks about twenty -feet long and an inch square. These were considerably thinner than the -corresponding timbers of Goodwin’s machine, but they were the best that -could be procured. - -“And they’re six feet longer than you said, Harry,” said Howard Brent. - -“Well, never mind that,” Harry answered. - -“Might as well have them cut down to the length we want.” - -“No,” said Harry, “leave them this size.” - -“Twenty feet is long enough for any glider,” said Langford, eyeing him -shrewdly. “I know what _you’re_ up to. You expect to put a motor in -her.” - -“We’ll see how she goes first,” said Harry. - -Besides the four long strips, they managed to root out, with the help of -the mill foreman, a couple of dozen strips four feet long and -three-quarters of an inch in thickness. Some of these would be used for -the horizontal struts, or cross-bars, and some for the upright -stanchions. None were according to the regular specifications for a -glider, but they were not so far out of the way as to destroy the chance -of success and safety; and, as the boys agreed, they “ought to take what -they could get and be thankful.” For one thing, the uprights should have -been round and highly polished to lessen their resistance to the air, -but the boys had to be satisfied with having the edges smoothed off with -a few runs of a hand plane. - -Up to this point in their negotiations, the mill foreman had exercised -his resources to satisfy their peculiar wants, though his manner was not -encouraging. But when Mac asked for about forty or so strips, four feet -long and thin enough to steam and curve, he could contain himself no -longer. - -“Ye ain’t buildin’ a hen-coop, then?” he asked. - -“No, not a hen-coop,” said Harry. - -“Huh. Thought ye was. Well, ye can’t use them long strips for a boat.” - -“You have one more guess,” said Harry. - -“How’s that?” - -“We’re building an airship,” said Harry; “that is, a glider—for -gliding.” - -The man stared at them, amazed. - -“Well, you’ll all break your necks,” said he. - -But he condescended to tell them that Marty Forbes might have what they -wanted down at his boat-yard. So they sought out Marty, who, on hearing -their wishes, was still more discouraging. He had prophesied, he said, -that half the boys would go crazy after seeing Goodwin fly, and he -guessed he was about right. But he was willing to be a party to their -rashness to the extent of selling them some thin strips, which he agreed -to steam and curve according to Harry’s directions. So Harry cut a piece -of stiff wire to the proper length and bent it as a pattern. “There, -that’s a parabolic curve,” he said. - -“Paregoric?” said Marty. - -“No, parabolic.” - -Since the matter is important, and since every boy is interested in -aeronautics, you may as well know, once for all, that this is the curve -which does the trick: - -[Illustration] - -So don’t waste your time stretching barrel hoops, but cut a wooden -pattern, bend your sticks over it, tie them down, then steam them -thoroughly. - -If the boys had been in the city, they could easily have bought the -necessary fittings and bearings; but the hardware resources of Port -Henry were limited to one side of the grocery and a rival establishment -at the blacksmith’s. They managed to secure, however, a large box half -full of little wrought-iron right-angle braces with screw-holes, a good -stock of nails, screws, glue, sandpaper, spar varnish, and several rolls -of heavy wire. - -As for tools, a small chest of handy utensils, pliers, hammer, file, and -so forth, had been brought from the city (Red Deer’s surgical outfit, -the boys called it), and to this stock they added an extra hammer and a -saw. - -It was a merry company that started down the lake with this cargo of -lumber and other necessities, the result of a half-day’s shopping. -Another trip would be made several days later for the bicycle and -balloon-silk shelter, when the ribs would also be ready, according to -Marty. - -“There’s one thing I don’t understand about aeroplanes,” said Matthew -Reed, who was at the tiller. - -“Only one thing?” asked Tom. - -“Well, I don’t mean exactly that.” - -“No, we understand,” said Mac. “There might be two or three things.” - -“Oh, let up on that,” said Matthew, annoyed. “The Wrights say that every -feature of the aeroplane is taken from nature. I suppose they mean from -birds. Now, Brick Parks has got snapshots of a couple of dozen birds; -he’s after the stalker’s badge, you know, and not a single one of them -has a screw propeller.” - -“Slap him on the wrist for that, will you, Howard!” called Harry, who -was tending the engine. - -“Well, you can laugh, but that’s true. Show me a screw propeller in -nature, and I’ll—” - -“If you’ll promise to be good, I’ll tell you where you can find one,” -said Harry. “Did you ever notice the seed pod of an ash tree? Well, you -just look at one the next time you get a chance, and watch how it comes -to the ground. It’s a little propeller, all right, and it lets the seed -down to the ground as easily as Goodwin landed. You just watch how it -revolves.” - -“That’s the kind of thing he finds out when he goes off in the woods by -himself,” said Mac. “Harry, you’ve got us all backed right off the -boards. No wonder Miss—” - -“When are we going to start building this thing?” Harry asked hastily. - -“Right off—why not?” - -“Suits me.” - -They were all so interested in the proposed glider and in getting the -stuff from the boat that Harry did not at first notice Gordon among -several boys who came down to the shore. - -“Looks like business, hey?” called one. - -“Bet your life!” said Harry. “How much do you think the whole business -cost us?” - -“How much?” - -“Seven dollars, all told.” - -“Cheap enough.” - -“Here, take this box, will you, Ray?” called Matthew, handing out the -hardware. - -“Haul those sticks out, Raymond,” Harry said. Then, suddenly espying -Gordon, “Hello, Kiddo,” he called cheerily. “Here, grab this bundle, and -make yourself useful.” - -To his astonishment, Gordon turned on his heel and went up the path to -the tents. Harry watched him, surprised. The others were too busy to -notice. They carried their material to a part of the grove where the -trees were sparse, but close enough to afford some shelter. Here they -smoothed off a strip of already flat ground and partially sheltered it -with Harry’s tenting. Then they sat about, discussing the best way of -going to work in the morning. One by one, other members of the troop -wandered over, squatted here and there, and contributed suggestions and -advice, till Charlie Greer, who was cooking that week, called them in -with the welcome sound of his tin horn. - -It was the boys’ custom (originating with themselves) to stand at their -places till Red Deer took his rustic seat. He sat at the head of the -long, narrow board, one patrol occupying each side, the patrol leaders -at his right and left hand. The soft evening breeze caught the fresh -scent of the woods and wafted it among the merry, hungry campers. The -stream which tumbled in a little cascade over rocks a short distance -farther up its course, was their accompaniment. - -After the early supper, and just before sunset, they gathered about the -flagpole and sang the song of the beautiful emblem that fluttered above -them. Then Red Deer asked if any one had in mind anything which he had -done or said that day which he would like to undo or unsay. It was his -custom to ask this. One or two had, but the matters need not be told -here. Red Deer never thought of them or mentioned them again, so why -should I spread them broadcast? After that, the flag was lowered. - -Before camp-fire, Gordon went off to a large rock on the top of a -neighboring hill, to get a photo printing-frame which he had left there -for exposure. It was a peculiar hill. It looked as if some giant might -have sliced an ordinary hill in half, at its very summit, leaving one -long slope, terminating at a sheer precipice. On the brink of the -precipice stood this solitary, sun-bleached rock and one lonely tree. -Below was an expanse of thinly wooded marshy land, enclosing a pond. And -out of this pond, through reeds and dank undergrowth, a green, scummy -stream wound its sluggish way into Lake Champlain. To look down from the -precipice, one might almost imagine that he was gazing upon a tropical -landscape. - -On the rock where Gordon was accustomed to leave his printing frame were -graven the initials “G. L.,” for he seldom identified himself with any -place without carving his initials somewhere about; and so completely -had he taken possession of this sun-scorched hill that the troop had -dubbed it “Kid’s Perch.” - -Harry saw him plodding up the hill, and went after him. - -“Hello, old man,” he said, as he came up to the rock. - -“Hello,” said Gordon, coldly. - -Harry stood for a moment, half-puzzled, half-amused. Then he stepped up, -slapping him on the shoulder in his familiar way. Gordon turned -resentfully. - -“What’s the matter, Kid?” Harry asked, his voice serious and full of -feeling. - -“I’m not bothering _you_, am I?” said Gordon. - -“No, Kid, but what’s the matter? Can’t you tell me?” - -“The matter is I don’t want to be followed—now are you satisfied?” - -“No, Kid, I’m not. I want to know what’s the matter, old boy. I can’t go -down to camp-fire with things this way—you can’t, either.” - -“Oh, yes, I can. Besides, I guess you can get along all right. You seem -to have plenty of other fellows.” - -“Kid, old boy,” said Harry, beginning to see where the trouble lay, -“don’t talk like that. You know, as sure as you’re standing there, that -I—Why, old man, you don’t forget that week we spent together, do you?” - -“You didn’t have any one else, then. Everybody knows it’s easy to play -me for a good thing.” He turned to his printing-frame. - -Harry watched him. - -“Did it print all right, old man?” he asked, almost humbly. - -Gordon, ignoring the question, started down the hill, but Harry caught -up with him. “Wait a minute, Kid,” said he. “I don’t want Red Deer to -know about this. Wait, just a minute, please. You know, we can’t always -stick together, here in camp. Naturally, I’m interested in some things -and you’re interested in others—photographing, for instance. And I’ve -got the aeroplane craze now. I’ll get over it, you know, just as you got -over the mumps. Would you have gone to the village with us, if we’d -waited? They all say I’ll break my neck yet. Won’t you help us make the -glider, Kid? Come ahead.” - -“That all you’ve got to say?” said Gordon. - -“No, I want you to say that things are all right. I know we haven’t seen -much of each other this week, but you know how it is, Kid. I was -thinking, coming up the hill,” he added, in a pathetic attempt to arouse -the younger boy’s interest, “that your suction-pad—you know, the one -you invented—would be great if there were a ledge on that precipice—” - -“Oh, give us a rest,” said Gordon. “There’s Langford and Reed waiting -for you, down there.” - -“Kid,” said Harry, putting his hand on Gordon’s shoulder, “do you -remember—” - -“Take your hand off me,” cried Gordon, turning. - -“You don’t mean that, Kid.” - -“It’ll be time enough to crawl,” said Gordon, “when I ask you to.” - -“I don’t want to crawl, old man,—or we’ll call it crawling, if you -like,—I don’t care. I just want to be friends. Come on, old Black -Ranger.” - -But Gordon had started down the hill, and Harry stood still, watching -him. - -The next was a busy day for the aero club, working on the glider. When -the troop assembled under the flag at sunset—the several parties of -stalkers, trackers, fishers, home from their chosen haunts—and Red Deer -asked the usual question, if any had done or said a thing that he would -like to undo or unsay, Harry looked wistfully, almost imploringly, -toward a certain round head, with a scout hat perched upon the back of -it. But the owner of the round head neither spoke nor stirred. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - HARRY FINDS A WAY - - -The next day the work was at a standstill, for they had gone as far as -they could without the ribs and the covering. So the aero club -separated, Mac and Tom joining Nelson Pierce for a day of fishing. Most -of the troop went down to the lake with Red Deer for a “soak.” Harry sat -on the ground near camp all the morning, his back against a huge tree, -and his knees drawn up by way of a writing desk. Here he used up page -after page of a writing tablet, making a variety of diagrams, only to -crunch up each leaf and stuff it into one or other of his pockets. - -No one was about except Charlie Greer, cook, and Johnnie Walden, cookee, -who were busy in the lean-to. When Harry finally ambled over toward -them, he was stiff from his long sitting. Out of the fifty or so sheets -of paper he had used, there were only six that he saw fit to save. The -rest he pulled out from his various pockets. - -“I’m a human waste basket, Charlie,” said he. “Here, burn these up, will -you?” - -“Figuring out your glider?” Charlie asked. - -Harry creased a sheet of paper into an arrowy form and shot it through -the trees. “Look at that go, will you, Charlie?” He went and picked it -up and brought it to Charlie to burn. Then he wandered off, his hands in -his trousers pockets. He passed Morrel, who was on sentinel duty at the -edge of the grove. - -“What’s the matter, old man?” said Morrel. “You look lonesome.” - -“Come on down to the village,” said Harry. He knew Morrel couldn’t go, -but he asked to be sociable. - -In Port Henry, he jumped upon the bench in Marty’s boat-yard. “Got those -paregoric ribs ready?” said he. - -Marty looked at him suspiciously, as if he were beginning to see through -some involved swindling game. “Thought you was comin’ down in yer boat -to-morrer.” - -“So we are, but I’m in a hurry to see one of them.” - -“Well, there they be,” said Marty, with lofty contempt. “You’re daft if -you go into this aeroplane business.” - -“I know it,” said Harry, “but I can’t help it; I was born that way. Can -I take one of these along?” - -“Guess that’ll be all right,” drawled Marty. - -When the other boys returned from their various occupations they found -Harry squatted near the unfinished glider, contemplating with critical -gaze the solitary rib, which he had fastened in place. - -The work, so far, consisted of two rectangular frames, each twenty-four -by three feet, and joined at the corners by the right-angle braces, -fastened with screws. The fact that these frames were four feet longer -than the regulation trial glider would seem to indicate a sneaking -intention on Harry’s part to install motive power sometime or other; but -if he ever did, it is not a part of this story. - -Besides the end pieces, four other cross-bars, or struts, had been -fastened between the beams at even intervals, except that in one of the -frames the two nearest the center were only two feet apart. This would -be the under plane, and the space in the center being left uncovered, -the passenger might pass his arms over these center cross-bars, hanging -by his armpits. The lateral balance of the glider would thus be -controlled by the sideways swinging of his legs, and its coasting -inclination—that is, the tilting upward or downward of its air-cutting -surfaces—by his sliding backward or forward on these central struts. - -Thus, in this simple form of glider, the weight of the operator’s body -takes the place of complicated stability planes and rudders, and all -that is needed to maintain a level keel is a level head. - -“That rib looks lonesome there, Harry,” said Tom Langford. - -“Well, it will have to stick it out alone to-night,” Harry answered. - -“Looks like a fence that’s fallen down, doesn’t it?” said Howard. - -They spent some time screwing on more of the right-angle braces, for -though they lacked many of the fittings usually recommended for such -work, they had an abundance of these braces. They served very well to -hold all corners firmly and rigidly together, although of course -absolute rigidity of such open framing could only be secured by a -thorough system of taut wire trussing. - -“Guess she won’t fly away to-night,” said Tom Langford. “Come on down -and clean up for supper. I say, it makes me sad to see that lonely rib -there.” - -The next day they went into Port Henry with the Swan, and got the -bicycle, the silk shelter, and the rest of the ribs. There were -forty-one, all told. They were curved to perfection, and the boys were -vociferous in their thanks to Marty. On the way back, one of them -slipped into the water. - -“Floating rib,” said Matthew Reed. “I knew a man once who had a floating -rib.” - -“Joke,” said Mac. - -“Well, people do have such things as floating ribs,” protested Matthew; -“ask Dr. Brent.” - -“Very clever,” said Tom Langford. “Let’s all laugh.” - -“Hope you choke,” grunted Matthew. - -The next day the ribs were fastened in place, and these, of course, had -a bracing effect on the frame. On the upper plane there were twenty-one -ribs, placed at even spaces across the frame. On the lower, one rib was -omitted in the center, where there would be no cloth covering on account -of the open space required to hold the passenger. Thus the ribs were -something over a foot apart. Since the frames were only three feet wide -and the ribs four feet long, it followed that they had to project a foot -over one edge, and this of course must be the back, or after, edge. The -front or abruptly curved end of each rib was brought flush with the long -beam and screwed down to it with a long, flatheaded screw. Then where it -crossed the after beam it was also screwed down. They were careful to -see that each one was correctly squared with the long bars, so that the -ribs, when placed, were parallel with each other. - -When their work was finished, the boys squatted about, surveying the -result of their labor and commenting on the scientific and shipshape -appearance it was beginning to assume. The curved ribs had transformed -the fencelike frames into two graceful pieces of lattice, with a sort of -aerial, buoyant aspect that immediately suggested the aeroplane. Up to -this point the work might have been intended for any one of a dozen -purposes. Not so now. - -“She’s going to be all right,” said Mac. “Where’ll we try her out—down -the hill?” - -“We’d better try her on the level first,” said Harry. - -“Certainly, we’ll do everything on the level,” ventured Matthew. - -“Matty,” said Tom, “if you don’t stop making these jokes—” - -“I can’t seem to satisfy you fellows,” said Matthew. “That wasn’t such a -bad one—” - -“Wouldn’t it be a good idea,” asked Howard, innocently, “to put the -covering on before we try her out?” - -“Mightn’t be a bad scheme,” said Harry. - -“You know most of them are covered,” Howard said; “they say it helps -them to rise.” - -Two sonorous blasts of Charlie Greer’s tin horn put an end to the -conversation. Near the lean-to the trunk of a young tree had been felled -and rested horizontally in the forks of two others. From this hung a -line of seventeen towels, rough dry, but spotless, each one bearing a -scout’s initials. The cookee laundered these every sunny day, by Red -Deer’s orders. In process of preparation for supper, Harry reached the -rack before the others, and came upon Gordon giving his round face a few -final rubs. - -“Hello, Kid,” he said cheerily. - -“Hello,” Gordon answered. - -“Thought we’d see you over yonder to-day. She’s beginning to look quite -shipshape, Kid. Come on over in the morning and take a look. Guess we’ll -get her finished to-morrow, if Mat doesn’t stop to chin too much. Been -stalking to-day?” But there was no answer; and when Harry’s face emerged -from its towel, Gordon had disappeared. - -It developed from camp-fire talk that night that Gordon had been -stalking with that indefatigable stalker, Brick Parks. Parks, after long -and patient effort, had managed to get a first-class snapshot of a hawk, -for it was his public-spirited wish that the Hawk Patrol, of which he -was a member, should have some sort of representation of their patron -bird, produced by his own hand. And the idea had fired Gordon with -enthusiasm, so that for the last two days he had been haunting the -stream, armed with his trusty little “Brownie,” in the hope of bringing -its deadly focus on a real live beaver. - -Under ordinary circumstances, he would have consulted his patrol leader -about this, and if he had he might have directed his search more wisely; -but as it was, he was going to triumph over the entire patrol, he was -going to do them a magnificent good turn, he was going benevolently to -donate eight photographs of a beaver, one for each member, and Arnold, -when he received his, would feel the sting of a remorseful conscience, -and that would serve him right. - -“Any beavers to-day?” asked the doctor, as he took his customary seat -amongst them. - -“No, sir,” said Gordon. - -“I should think that land under the precipice might have a beaver,” the -doctor suggested, “near the pond, I mean. I believe you’ll find them -pretty scarce, though, Gordon. A muskrat wouldn’t do?” - -“Of course not,” said Gordon. “We’re not muskrats.” - -“Well, a muskrat is a kind of a small beaver,” protested the doctor, -cautiously. - -“Just the thing,” said Tilford Morrel, Hawk. “He’s a kind of small -beaver, aren’t you, Kid?” - -The talk turned to the all-important topic of the glider, and Red Deer -fell a victim to the ruse which was practiced on him nearly every night, -that of getting him interested in some absorbing topic just before -eleven o’clock. Then, at about twelve, he would rise with great -alacrity, saying that the hour was outrageous, but that he had only -himself to blame. - -In the morning came the most difficult part of the work, especially -difficult since they were in the woods and had not the proper material -for what they had to do. This was to fasten the two planes, one above -the other, by means of the upright stanchions. If they had been in the -city, their stanchions would have been round, and it would have been a -simple matter to procure brass sockets for the ends to rest in. As it -was, Mac suggested buying twelve ordinary brooms, which would have cost -them about five dollars. Harry improved on this by suggesting hickory -rake-handles, which can be purchased separately for twenty cents each in -any country store. But since they had no round sockets, square -stanchions would, on the whole, be best. - -“Besides,” said Tom, “I wouldn’t have the nerve to walk into that store -and ask for twelve rake-handles. Every merchant prince in town thinks -we’re a pack of lunatics, as it is. Marty Forbes pities us. So does the -telegraph operator. When I asked for piano wire, those two fellows in -the hardware store looked at each other and winked. Come on, let’s get -busy with the square stanchions.” - -“That’s right,” said Matthew, “have the stanchions on the square if we -mean to use the machine on the level, then—” - -Mac walked grimly up to him and shook a chisel in his face. “Matthew, -the day has just started; you are forgiven this once, but don’t let it -happen again. Now, you remember!” - -“Come on, messmates,” said Walden, tightening his belt; “are we going to -get through to-night?” - -“Indeed we are!” said Harry. - -They placed one of the four-foot stanchions in the corner of the frame, -held it upright, and screwed it on by means of the right-angle, -wrought-iron braces. They used two of the braces, one flange of each -screwed to a side of the upright, the other two flanges screwed one -along the long beam, the other along the end cross-bar. When they had -done this, the stanchion stood plumb upright and solid. If you do not -care to pay fancy prices for brass stanchion sockets, do not let the -books frighten you into doing so. These little wrought-iron braces, with -screws to match, will do very well, and square stanchions are not half -bad. - -They put a stanchion wherever there was a cross-bar end. Now came the -job of lifting the other frame and placing it on the stanchion-tops. -When this had been secured, the whole frame was not as steady as they -wished. But they contemplated their handiwork with admiring comments. It -looked for all the world like Goodwin’s biplane. - -Now it was time to lay violent hands on Mac’s old bicycle, and the boys -went at it as if it were a cold turkey the day after Thanksgiving. Their -object was to furnish the glider with wheels, placing them to the rear -near the ends of the lower plane, so that the legs of the operator might -form a third wheel, in a sense, relieving him of much of the strain of a -sudden alighting. They remembered the wheels on Goodwin’s machine, and -they had not stopped to reflect that in a light-weight glider their room -might be better than their company. It fell to Harry to discover a -better use for the old wheels. - -“Here’s a way to truss her up good and tight,” said he. “We don’t need -these wheels—she’s as light as a feather. And here’s a way to pull the -wiring taut. That’s very necessary. Why, Goodwin walked around his -machine trying all the wires, and they sounded like harp strings, they -were so tight.” - -If you have a bicycle, you must have noticed that one end of the spoke -is threaded and screws into a little turnable socket. They filed off -each one, leaving the threaded end and its socket on the spoke. Then -they cut the spokes a few inches from the sockets, and bent the other -ends into the shape of a hook eye. Now, they took a strand of wire, -bound it firmly to one corner of the frame, drew it loosely to an -opposite corner, and cut it in the middle. One severed end they bound to -the threaded socket, the other to the eyelet they had made in the spoke. -The spoke was then screwed into its socket, and by this operation the -wire was pulled taut. It sang and vibrated when they tried it with their -fingers. - -“Hurrah! How’s that for trussing!” exclaimed Howard Brent. - -“We can screw these wires so tight she won’t give a particle,” shouted -Tom. “Good for you, Harry!” - -The idea was a good one, for since absolute rigidity of the long planes -is imperative, it follows that the trussing and bracing by wire must be -perfectly tight—tighter than any pair of hands can draw it. It was a -particularly happy notion in this case, as it permitted of the glider’s -being easily taken apart. - -Several of the boys now got between the two planes, being careful not to -step on the ribs, and began trussing. They wired each section -separately, stretching a wire from each corner to the diagonally -opposite corner,—that is, from the lower end of the back stanchion to -the upper end of the next forward stanchion, and so on. - -“Reminds you of that game you play with string,—cat in the -cradle—doesn’t it?” said Matthew. That was as near as he dared approach -to a joke. - -“Yes, dearie,” said Mac. - -They had to be careful that no wires should span the open space to be -occupied by the passenger. As each wire was fixed in place, it was -tightened by turning the little bicycle-spoke socket, and it was a never -failing delight to the boys to spring these wires and listen with -satisfaction to the long vibration which told how tightly they pulled -the frame together and held it rigid. - -When the trussing was finished, Mac stepped into the operator’s place, -grasped the cross-bars, and lifted the machine. It tilted to one side, -then to the other, but did not sag. - -“A couple of you hold up the ends,” said Mac, “while I hang in the -middle, and see if it holds stiff.” - -Two boys did so, but the long frame did not give, nor was there any -sound of straining. - -“She’s what G. Lord would call a James Dandy,” said Tom. - -“She’s a lalapazuza!” Howard shouted, throwing his cap in the air. - -“All we have to do now is to fit on her silk dress,” said Harry. - -This was quickly done. They cut the silk into strips wide enough to span -two rib-spaces. Each strip was turned under the forward bar, which was -smeared with glue, then tacked with copper tacks and pulled tightly to -the after bar, where it was also fastened. The edges of the strips met -at every second rib, where glue was also smeared and the overlapping -edges tacked down. - -“There was some kind of a thin moulding running along over the ribs on -Goodwin’s machine,” said Harry, thoughtfully. - -“Harry, was there anything about Goodwin’s machine that you didn’t see?” -asked Mac. “Your beautiful gray eyes are certainly wonders for seeing -things.” - -Harry, ignoring the compliment, departed, and presently reappeared with -a felt duffel bag. - -“That’s mine,” said Matthew Reed. “What are you going to do with that?” - -“I’m going to attach it,” said Harry. - -“Attach it to what?” - -“Attach it in the interest of science. Now, Matthew, don’t cut up and be -naughty at the last minute. You know you have two of these.” - -Matthew subsided, under a storm of references to his lack of public -spirit, and the felt bag was cut into long, narrow strips, slightly -wider than the ribs, and tacked along over them. - -The lower plane was covered in the same way, except that the two-foot -space between the central struts was left free of rib and covering, to -accommodate the passenger’s body. Thus a boy could step into this space -(always watchful not to step on the flanking silk) and, stooping, take -the struts in his two hands and lift the complete frame. - -“She’s did!” shouted Tom Langford, throwing a tack-hammer into the air. - -They stood about, eying the completed glider admiringly. There it stood, -its ends resting on two logs, graceful, aerial, but strong, its taut -copper wiring crossing and recrossing between the curved surfaces and -glittering in the declining sunlight. They surveyed it from every angle, -with enthusiastic comments. From the rear, the slight uniform curve of -the silk to the rib summits, with the outline of the ribs showing at -even intervals beneath the tight-drawn cloth, was beautiful. They looked -from end to end, through a long vista of slanting wires. Howard Brent -stepped on the middle of one of the lower bars and jumped ever so -slightly. There was no spring. The bar, one inch in diameter, held rigid -like a bar of steel. - -“You wouldn’t think you could balance that sideways by holding it in the -center, would you?” said Mac. - -“Balancing sideways is what they call ‘lateral stability,’ Mr. -McConnell,” said Tom. “If we’re going to do this, we want to do it -right, as Master G. Lord says about our proposed assault on Fort -Ticonderoga.” - -“I agree with G. Lord,” said Tom. “If we’re going to be Green Mountain -boys, we ought to roll our r’s and talk like them and carry rusty swords -and worn-out guns. G. Lord has the right idea.” - -“That’s what Red Deer calls entering into the spirit of a thing,” said -Matthew; “and that’s G. Lord’s specialty, all right. He wouldn’t stand -for ‘balancing sideways.’ It would have to be ‘lateral stability’ for -him.” - -“I’ve missed him over here,” said Mac. “Wonder why he hasn’t been -around?” - -“Oh, he won’t bother us much till he uses up those three films he -bought.” - -Harry said nothing, but he realized keenly that his pleasure in building -the glider and in the anticipation of using it had been sadly marred. - -They rounded the struts which the passenger was to hold, and bound them -with felt so that the hands and armpits might not chafe. Then they gave -the whole thing, covering and all, a coat of varnish. This would not -only fill up the weave of the silk, making it air tight, but stiffen it -as well; and the varnishing of the stanchions in particular would cause -them more easily to deflect the air. As a precaution against a sudden -rise of wind, the four corners were anchored to the earth by ropes and -stakes and the apparatus was left to dry over night. In case of rain it -might be brought into one of the tents. - -That night at camp-fire some one rashly tried to introduce the subject -of Myer signaling, only to be put down by a veritable storm of -aeronautic talk. - -“Now,” said Red Deer, “I’ve waited till this glider was finished to make -a remark. Is the coast clear for about five minutes? All right, then. -Now, you understand that I’m on a vacation. It wouldn’t be fair to ask -me to set broken joints and bind up wounds, would it?” - -“Certainly not,” laughed several, seeing the diplomatic trend of his -talk. - -“Well, now, I want you to begin on level ground. Be satisfied with -gliding a few feet or so close to the ground. You’ll find old terra -firma a pretty good friend. Then, when you’ve got the hang of it, try it -on the hillside if you wish. There isn’t so very much slope, especially -down toward the foot. But get the hang of it first. That’s the way the -Wrights did. Understand, Harry?” - -The next morning they tried it out in a near-by field, and came in to -dinner enthusiastic over their success. Mac took his place in the -center, holding the felted struts in his hands and letting his arms hang -straight down. Thus the lower plane was about two feet from the ground. -Harry and Tom steadied the ends. The glider was faced directly into the -breeze and Mac started to run. The first thing he knew, his feet had -left the ground. Then one of the ends sank, scraped the field, and he -was down again. - -“If you hadn’t looked around to see if I was still holding on, that -wouldn’t have happened,” said Tom. “Try it again.” - -“As soon as your feet leave the ground,” said Harry, “stick them forward -a little. That will tilt the forward edge up—not too much, though.” - -The next start was better. As soon as Mac’s legs were clear of the -ground, he projected them slightly, which kept the glider from coming -down. And now instinct—the same instinct which enables a bicyclist to -right his tilting wheel by just the exact degree of motion—came to his -aid. The slightest movement had a controlling effect on these -far-spreading wings. He slid his hands four or five inches backward, -throwing the cutting edge of the long planes up. Thus the glider, -scooping the air under its curved surfaces, rose. Also instinct seemed -to tell him when it was about to cant, and he inclined his body -sideways, accordingly. The sensation of feeling the long planes obey -this slight move was delightful. But it was too soon for instinct to be -attuned to all the subtle little calls upon it, and presently, leaning -too far forward, that delicate and stubborn thing known as the center of -gravity shifted, and the glider came coasting to the ground. He had -risen about twelve feet and glided about forty. - -Next Harry tried it and did still better, starting with more power after -a longer initial run. It was a very easy thing to learn how to do. One -after another the boys tried it, with a trifling mishap now and then. -Bert Waring glided fifty-one feet from the rising point, which was the -record until Red Deer took off his gold specs and handed them to Roy -Carpenter. - -“Get from under!” said Matthew Reed. - -“Move those trees out of the way,” said Langford. - -“Will you be back to-night, Doctor?” asked Mac. - -Red Deer made a very scientific flight, doing a sort of scenic-railway -curve, almost alighting, then up again. His lateral balancing was -admirable. He got up as high as thirteen or fourteen feet, and tacked -three feet on to Waring’s record. - -“By Jove, that’s splendid sport, isn’t it?” said he, as he alighted. - -“Let’s try it down the slope now,” said Roy Carpenter. - -They took it up to within about twenty-five feet of the precipice. That -was as far as Red Deer would allow it to be carried. - -“That’s far enough,” he called, as he came up after them. “I want you to -be careful never to go nearer the top than this. If any wind should -catch you and take you over the brink, it would be all up.” - -“It would be all _down_,” said Matthew. - -“I hate to think what it would mean, boys,” said the scoutmaster, -earnestly. “Try it down the slope all you want to, but don’t go nearer -than this to the precipice. If one of you should by any chance go over, -you’d crash down a hundred feet.” - -“We wouldn’t think of trying a glide off there,” laughed Vinton. “At -least, not for mine.” - -“I know you wouldn’t,” said the doctor. “You’re not fools enough for -that. But what I mean is, don’t back up that far to take a runner. You -see, while you’re facing down into the wind, if a sudden gust should -come, you can never tell, you know, it might catch the machine a certain -way and topple you right down. You’ve got a good long slope here. Don’t -go nearer than this now, will you?” - -“Don’t worry, Doctor,” said Mac. - -“Well, I want you all to promise me. I’ve got to go down now and make up -a report for the local council, and I want to be able to banish this -from my mind. Do you all promise? Do you promise, Harry?” - -“Why me, in particular?” Harry laughed. - -“No reason, only I happened to notice you standing there.” - -Harry stood among the others, his hands in his pockets. “Of course, I -promise,” said he. - -Red Deer watched the first flight. It carried Carpenter, the Hawks’ -patrol leader, over one hundred feet down the slope, skimming the -ground. Then the scoutmaster, apparently satisfied, went down to his -tent. Presently, Nelson Pierce literally leaped into fame. He had been -watching the manipulations of the others shrewdly, and now, with the -benefit of what he had seen and a theory or two of his own, he took a -good run and, balancing carefully, brought the forward edges up to a -sharp angle. The downward slope of the hill and the upward coasting of -the glider soon left at least thirty feet of space below him. - -“Oh me, oh my!” shouted Howard Brent, as they ran down to be in at the -finish. - -Nelson, maintaining his lateral balance by careful inclinations of his -body to right and left, cut his way upward at a slight angle, with never -a tremor of the planes, extending his momentum by holding a stiff, -steady angle, until, about one hundred and fifty feet from the start and -fifty feet from the ground, the attraction of gravitation began to -assert itself and drew the glider and its passenger earthward. But the -attraction of gravitation cannot have its own way with a glider going -against the wind, and Nelson coasted easily down not so very far from -the foot of the hill. - -“That was fine!” said Bert. - -“How was the weather up there, Nel?” asked Morrel. - -Harry tried it after that and made a good flight; but he tried a -spectacular rise, throwing his edges up to forty-five degrees, and -consequently didn’t go so far. - -Instead of blowing his horn, Charlie Greer, wearing his apron, came up -to see the show and summon them to supper. They made him get in and, -amid loud cheering, he made a magnificent flight of eight feet. - -“Great, Charlie!” shouted Vinton. - -“Charles, you’re a winner!” said Mac. - -“Guess everybody’s tried it now,” said Walden. - -“Where’s Kid Lord?” piped up Tom. - -“Here comes Brick Parks. Hey, Brick, where’s the Kid, anyway?” - -“Stalking,” said Parks. “Let’s try that thing, will you?” - -“Too late to-night, Bricky, old boy, but you can take a picture of it.” - -“Sun’s too low,” said Parks. - -They anchored the machine with ropes and stakes about twenty-five feet -from the cliff, meaning to resume their operations after supper. - -The excitement of the trials over, Harry was miserable. He knew that -Gordon, in his heart, would have liked to try the glider, and that it -was just boyish pique that kept him away. He drew a mental picture of -Gordon trudging alone in the woods, his trusty little camera under his -arm, in hopeless quest of a beaver. He was sorry he hadn’t made other -overtures and told him that there was next to no chance of finding a -beaver short of many miles to the west. He told himself that he should -have been more in earnest when he spoke to Gordon, less independent, -though it is hard to see how he could have said or done more. The more -he thought, the more he blamed himself. He thought of something he would -say to Gordon when he saw him. He would go up to him and say, “Can’t we -find a way, Kid?” and that would surely catch him. - -But he did not see Gordon, for Gordon did not appear at supper. Such -things often happened, and Red Deer was not anxious, only annoyed. Brick -Parks said that he and Gordon had separated down the stream, Gordon -wishing to follow the water. - -He thought his quest of the elusive beaver might have taken him through -that dank place below the hill. - -“I bet he gets one,” said Vinton. Harry shook his head. - -But Gordon’s absence did not interrupt the air talk, though Harry had -little to say. - -“You see, boys,” said Red Deer, as they ate, “the great thing is to -glide _into_ the wind. If you do the other thing, you take your life -into your hands.” - -Of course, the question of installing motive power was discussed, and -Morrel caused a great laugh by his suggestion to purchase the _Swan_ and -use its engine for the glider. “We could make the propeller with a -couple of canoe paddles,” suggested Vinton. - -After the colors were down and the anthem had been sung, it was too late -for gliding, for the dusk was lowering rapidly. It was decided to leave -the glider where it was, at least till after camp-fire, to see if the -night bade fair to be clear. Harry said he would go up and see if the -stakes were secure, for the breeze was freshening up. He went up the -hill in the dusk, feeling wretchedly unhappy and kicking stones to right -and left, as he walked. They saw his slender figure silhouetted against -the gray sky. - -“Anything the matter with him?” some one asked. - -“No, surely not—why?” - -“Seems kind of quiet, that’s all.” - -Harry looked at the stakes, pressed one a little farther down with his -foot, and then went up and sat on the rock, looking admiringly at the -graceful framework. There, beside him on the rock, were crudely graven -the initials “G. L.” Gordon’s failure to show up at supper had amused -him a little, it was so characteristic of him. He thought of the night -he had waited under Dibble Mountain and how Gordon had communicated with -him through the darkness. He looked down upon the dank stretch of land -below him, under the cliff. The wind was blowing, as it had blown all -day, up the hill. It was quite brisk, and he had to pull his hat down -tight to keep it from blowing off. It was just right for gliding down -the slope. Its direction could be plainly seen even in the land below -(despite the windbreak of hill), where the reeds all leaned away from -the cliff. - -As he watched the bending reeds, he noticed something which aroused his -interest. It looked like some one standing in the midst of them. Then he -realized that the figure must be kneeling, for it did not rise as high -as the surrounding growths. What with the dusk, the distance, and the -swaying of the reeds about it, he could only see it intermittently and -indistinctly. But surely there was some one there, kneeling or stooping. -He looked closer, concentrated his gaze, and shuddered, as a dreadful -thought came to him. - -The figure was neither kneeling nor stooping. Nor was it standing. While -he gazed, leveling all the strength of his vision upon it, a gust of -wind blew his hat off, over the precipice, and the same gust blew the -distant reeds far down, showing the figure clearly. He saw a spasmodic -motion of an arm, grasping the reeds. It seemed to have no legs. It was -nothing but the upper part of a person’s body, with two arms swinging -frantically. Now the swampy growths stood upright and the figure was -concealed. Presently they swayed again, far over, seeming to change -color as they bent. And there was the figure—lower than before, its -arms clutching the reeds. As Harry watched, he was sure that he could -see it sinking, slowly. Then the stump of head and chest and spreading -arms was hidden in the reeds and swampy grass. - -He knew now what it meant. There must be quicksand there, and the -wretched person was being slowly drawn down to his death. A terrible -fear gripped him. Parks had said that Gordon was going down there after -a beaver! - -He lost not one second’s time. Always cool, always level-headed, he was -so now. And since he was not in a panic, neither work nor time was -wasted. He ran down the slope to the glider, cut the ropes which held -it, brought it around facing the cliff, got into it, and came up to the -edge. He knew that what he was about to do had never been done but once, -and that once was when the famous Lilienthal went crashing to his death. -He was not going into the wind, he was going _with_ it. But he gave not -a thought to his own peril, he had to get out there at all costs. - -He waited for a gust of wind to part the reeds and swamp grass and show -him the spot for which he should aim. Presently it came, and almost -simultaneously a frightful shriek from below reached his ears. -Shuddering, he fixed his eyes on the spot, grasped the handle struts, -lifted the machine, and plunged from the cliff. - -The instant he was off, he lowered himself until his armpits caught the -struts, thus giving his body a longer and freer play. And that happened -which always happens in such cases. A gust of wind caught the glider -behind and threw it around. By luck, or instinct, or both, Harry had the -plane on an even keel and was ready to counteract the lurch. If it had -been at either angle, it would have crashed to the ground. As it was, he -kept his equilibrium by keeping his head. And he had now the full -pendulum length of his body to control his balance. - -His object was to coast down. But his position in the air was most -precarious, for he had not the sustaining power of the wind blowing -against him. On the contrary, coming from behind, it continually upset -his steering and balancing calculations, tilting his planes this way and -that, and once almost turning the machine over. Once he found himself -facing the cliff and sailing straight toward it, till by a series of -sudden jerks of his body he managed to haul the glider about. The wind -died for a few moments, and free from its diverting and dangerous -influence, he brought his forward edges slightly downward and the -machine coasted obediently. If the calm would hold for just a few -minutes, he thought desperately, he might make a safe landing. And it -did hold, just as the moon had come out once before to help this boy who -knew how to help himself. - -Down from the turmoil of choppy, rebounding air, out from lurching and -spinning like a top, came the glider, the long pendulum of Harry’s body -hanging loosely in it, now bending this way, now that, now forward, now -back, in assured and masterful control; and, obedient to the indomitable -will and skill and courage that held it as with a tight rein, it coasted -easily downward, straight for the spot he was aiming for. It had reared, -it had lurched, it had turned. And now, like the horse that recognizes -that it has met its master, it meekly obeyed. If the back wind held off -for just a moment more, he might be in time. And the back wind, being a -true sport, did hold off, just to see how this lithe, slender boy would -manage it. - -The glider came to earth, pulling the tall swamp grass like a great -comb, and settled its broad area upon the treacherous quicksand. Harry -had drawn himself up and stood, stooping, between the long planes, -looking this way and that, and calling. The thought that he might be too -late almost unnerved him. In his descent, he had seen nothing of the -figure, but had headed for a tree which stood near by. And his alighting -had been accurate, for not two feet from the plane he now saw the head, -with two arms above it. Evidently the lateral resistance of the arms had -been lost through weakness, for they were almost perpendicular. - -Grasping one of the stanchions with one hand, he leaned over and seized -the sinking figure by the collar. Then, grasping as much of its clothing -as he could in his hand, he pulled with all his might and main. He -succeeded in lifting the boy the least bit. Then he separated one of the -guy wires and with it lashed himself to the stanchion. Leaning over, and -exerting all the strength of both arms, he succeeded in slowly raising -the buried body. It was a terrific tussle, but he had made up his mind -to do it, and he did it. - -A few minutes later, panting, exhausted, almost on the verge of collapse -himself, he was kneeling over the prostrate form which lay on the lower -plane, and wiping the mud from its face. The eyes looked up, staring, -terrified, into his. - -“Who—what is it?” said the voice, weakly, half consciously. - -“It’s just Harry, Kid—I found a way, that’s all.” - -[Illustration: “HE LEANED OVER AND SEIZED THE SINKING FIGURE BY THE -COLLAR.”] - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF - - -“It’s going to be a great day,” observed Mac. “What was it the history -book said, Gordon? ‘The day of their departure dawned brisk and fair’?” - -“Yes,” said Gordon. - -“Didn’t it say something about every soul being scared? Surely it did.” - -“It said every soul was prepared,” corrected Gordon, with dignity. - -“Well, Ethan Allen and his crowd hadn’t anything on us,” Mac answered. - -Indeed they had not, to judge from appearances, for nearly everything -which had constituted the camp and made it homelike had been loaded into -the gallant _Swan_, which rocked gently at its moorings. The glider, -after a triumphant career of record making and breaking, had been taken -apart, first submissively posing for innumerable snapshots. There was -talk of awarding to the graceful flier a gnome motor, some time or -other, and it was agreed that meanwhile if any enterprising shopkeeper -in Oakwood cared to exhibit it “as the glider in which Harry Arnold -had—” - -“Sh-h-h, here he comes,” said one of the scouts, in an undertone; “he’d -be wild if he heard you proposing that.” - -“You’re not going to trust this precious cargo to Morrel, are you, -Doctor?” said Harry. - -“I thought I’d let Howard go along with him to tend the engine. Morrel -can steer.” - -“If you want her to go to the left, Til,” said Harry, soberly, “you just -pull on this rope, and for the right—” - -“Think you can remember that, Til?” said Roy Carpenter. - -“You fellows make me tired,” grumbled Tilford Morrel. - -The _Swan_, on her last voyage under scout auspices, went majestically -down the stream into the broad expanse of the lake, and headed for Port -Henry. Here she waited for the rest of the troop, and then the greater -part of their camp property was sent on to Oakwood to herald their -approach. But they kept enough for bivouac camping, in case they should -decide to tramp as far as Albany before taking the train. - -If you were to search to-day for the spot where the Oakwood boys camped -all summer, you would find no distinguishing mark, no defacing of ground -or tree, no unsightly can or battered paper box,—nothing unless, -perchance, the initials “G. L.” obscurely graven here and there. Thus -the scout comes and goes, and none shall be the wiser,—except, perhaps, -another scout to whose observant eyes a wisp of grass may hold a -meaning, and who sees where others see not. - -Their camping paraphernalia reduced to a minimum, the Oakwood troop -crowded into the _Swan_, a borrowed dory accommodating the overflow, and -crossed the lake at Port Henry, landing at Chimney Point. From here they -could look across the narrow channel formed by the Crown Point -peninsula, and see the ruins of the famous old fortress on the end of -the clumsy thumb of land. The sight of it fired Gordon with enthusiasm. - -“Oh, it’s going to be great!” he cried. “Can we get down opposite -Ticonderoga to-night, Red Deer?” - -“If you’re good,” said Mac. - -At Chimney Point they returned the _Swan_ to its rightful owner, who -agreed to row the borrowed dory across to its owner, and then they -started southward along the Vermont shore. - -It was, as Mac had observed, a great day. A brisk breeze rippled the -waters of the lake, and rustled musically among the leaves. - -“Well, who’s going to be Ethan Allen?” asked Red Deer. “Here we are, a -couple of miles down the line, and don’t know yet who’s leader. Harry, -this beautiful historic revival is yours, so I guess you’re old Ethan.” - -“No, that’s Kid’s job,” laughed Harry, putting his arm over Gordon’s -shoulder as they tramped along. - -“G. Lord, or no one,” shouted Mac. - -“G. Lord for mine!” added Brick Parks. - -“If Kid Lord isn’t Ethan Allen, I won’t play,” shouted John Walden. - -Gordon grinned from ear to ear. “All right, only you’ll have to be Seth -Warner, Harry.” - -“If you think I’m going to turn around and lead this outfit back to -Crown Point in order to play Seth Warner, you’ll have to think again, my -fraptious boy. If Ethan Allen Lord leads us forth to victory this night, -I think that will be about enough. Have you got the speech all pat?” - -“‘In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress!’” -shouted Gordon, striking an attitude. - -“Great!” said Charlie Greer. - -“Did you notice how I rolled my r’s?” asked Gordon. - -“We certainly did—you’re the only original!” - -“That’s nothing. I can do it even better than that.” - -Harry, smiling, walked over to Vinton, who was carrying several staves -and a fishing-rod wound up in a piece of light tenting. Fumbling in this -bundle, he pulled out a battered, rusty sword. - -“Here you are, old man,” he said, handing it to Gordon. “You want to do -it right, you know.” - -“Where’d he get that?” asked Langford, surprised. - -“Don’t ask me,” said Dan Swift. - -“Oh, cracky, where’d you get it, Harry?” Gordon cried. - -“Oh, cracky, I just happened to see it in Port Henry when we were making -the glider,” laughed Harry. - -Gordon grew sober. - -“Now you’re the genuine, warranted article,” said Harry, falling back -and walking with the scoutmaster. - -“How did you happen to buy that, Harry?” Dr. Brent asked in a low voice. - -“Oh, I just happened to see it in the blacksmith’s. I _thought_ it would -hit him in the right spot.” - -Red Deer made no comment. He knew Harry. - -In a few minutes Gordon fell behind, and he and Harry walked together. - -“Harry, it’s a James Dandy! I—I don’t see how you happened to think to -buy it.” - -“Oh, I just happened to be in Berry’s getting some steel bent.” - -“Then it was when—while—during—” - -“Yes, it was when, while, during,” said Harry; “and you’re supposed to -wave it over your head just the minute you clap your eyes on Mr. E. C. -Wade—see?” - -“Oh, but it’ll be great!” said Gordon. - -A day’s tramp southward along the Vermont shore brought them opposite -Ticonderoga about dusk. Far inland, when the view was unobstructed, they -could see the hazy outline of the Green Mountains, and across on the New -York side, Harry pointed out the frowning, shaggy head of old Bulwagga, -and farther on, the less forbidding height of Dibble Mountain, from -whose summit they had seen the smoke which lured them northward only to -find a heap of ashes. - -“But you found us just the same, didn’t you, Harry?” said Mac. - -“Did you think he wouldn’t?” said Gordon, contemptuously. (It was -noticeable that he did not say _we_; he said _he_.) “He found you right -at the biological moment, too.” - -“Psychological,” corrected Red Deer, smiling. - -“He’s all right, is Harry boy,” said Charlie Greer. - -“So’s G. Lord,” said some one else. - -“Harry,” said the doctor, “this is private land we’re coming to. Guess -we’ll have to make a long detour. It wouldn’t do for a party of scouts -to be caught trespassing.” - -To the doctor’s surprise, however, Harry vaulted the low fence, -apparently oblivious of the sign which said, “Positively No -Trespassing.” “Come ahead,” said he, looking back. - -“Isn’t he the bold thing?” said Nelson Pierce. - -A man came down through the grounds with a menacing aspect. “Don’t yez -know how to read plain English?” he shouted. - -“No, but I can understand plain Irish,” said Harry. “Hello, Pat, how are -you?” - -The man uttered a laugh to crack the heavens. “Sure, and ’tis yourself, -is it? And Oi’m that glad to see ye!” - -“Are we pinched?” laughed Harry. - -“Ye are that, the whole Wild West crew of yez! Fetch yer friends in here -till I have thim fined ten dollars each. Did yez have yer supper yit? -’Tis a lie, ye didn’t—come into the house.” - -Gordon was already at Harry’s side, and the rest followed. - -“Where’s the folks?” asked Harry. - -“Gone. The place is closed up an’ I’m left here to kape it open. The -sarvants went to Oakwood to tidy up a bit a week ago, and the Mister and -Missus went this morning with Master Penfield. It’s a ghrand place -they’ve there, Mister Arnold. Me and the old woman goes down with our -bandbox in the tourin’ car with Jimmie, Mister Roger’s man, this day -week, praise be, for ’tis as slow as mud here now.” - -“How are they? All well?” asked Harry. - -“All well, and waitin’ to get their two hands on ye—specially the -girrls, forbye a letter ye sint Master Penfield. Sure, he made a raid on -the establishment. Two fancy hats, no less, must Miss Marjorie hand -over, and there’s not so much as a wicker chair left in the house. Come -up and set down in wan o’ thim—the whole o’ yez!” - -“Was the aeroplane a success?” Gordon asked. - -“Faith, why should it not be, with the ind of a tin-dollar fountain pen -into it, and poor Mr. Danforth, him writin’ with the stub of a lead -pencil? It kin carry three passengers, seventeen-year-locusts, would ye -believe it, and it wint acrost the lake!” - -“Fine!” said Harry. - -The place seemed indeed deserted, with Mr. Danforth’s genial face not in -evidence. But Pat and his good wife proved very cordial and hospitable -substitutes. Pat protested that if Mr. Danforth were to hear of their -passing the house without accepting its entertainment, he, Pat, would be -peremptorily discharged and denounced every day thereafter. So they -dined luxuriously under the trees on the beautiful lawn, on a variety of -dainty and toothsome odds and ends from the still well-stocked larder. - -After dark they went on down the shore, with many acknowledgments to the -hearty chauffeur, who seemed to have a full measure of the genuine -Danforth hospitality. “I was chauffeur here long befoor there was anny -autimobiles, or befoor they’d the place at all,” he told them, as they -left; “and he’s the ghrand man, but I can’t larrn him to manage a boat.” - -At nine o’clock that night, the Oakwood scouts sprawled on the grassy, -sloping shore, just opposite old Fort Ticonderoga. A mile or so behind -the fort lay the sleeping village. Behind the waiting scouts rose the -historic Mount Independence; and across the lake there glimmered a -quivering yellow band, the light of a camp-fire just beyond the fort. - -“Wonder what time they’ll turn in?” said Roy Carpenter. “Christopher, -but that light looks cheerful!” - -The old fort, partially restored, lay at the end of a roundish cape -projecting from the New York shore, and here the water flowed through -the narrowest channel in all the lake’s broadening and narrowing path. -It was a spot forever associated with the good old War of Independence. -Right here, where the Oakwood scouts now waited for the light to die, -had the redoubtable Allen given his boisterous followers a final -harangue, generously offering to release any one who lacked the courage -to follow him across. - -The boys had not been able to secure a boat anywhere in the vicinity, -and here they were handicapped in a way that Ethan Allen had not been. -For that intrepid leader had, to tell the truth, “attached” all the -boats along the shore—in the name of the great Jehovah and the -Continental Congress. This, of course, the new Green Mountain Boys could -not very well do; so Harry suggested reconnoitering alone, bringing -back, if possible, one of the enemy’s canoes. The proposition was one -after Ethan Allen’s own heart. They rigged a makeshift raft by lashing -together three logs which lay on a ruined pier near by, and spent an -hour fashioning a rough sculling oar with a scout staff and a piece of -narrow board. - -After the fire had died sufficiently to convince them that the Albany -troop had gone to bed, Harry boarded the raft, and managed to work his -way across the channel, which was here about one third of a mile across. -He kept well clear of the illuminated area, and crawled cautiously up -the sloping shore, testing the ground before each step. It was almost -pitch dark, but on the little eminence, a hundred feet or so from the -shore, a black, irregular bulk could be seen, behind which was a -fast-dying light. Undoubtedly that was where they spent the evenings. -And he felt equally certain that they slept within the fortress walls. -He crept up the hill. There was not a sound. He listened, and suddenly -became conscious of voices, speaking in an undertone. Then, two figures, -walking together, emerged from the darkness, crossed the band of dying -light, and were engulfed again in the night. He followed them by their -voices. He could not hear what they were saying, but presently one spoke -in a louder tone, from which he gathered that they had separated. He -crept closer until he was within earshot of steady footfalls. These he -followed, silently, stealthily, clutching every stone and brittle twig -between his toes. Soon a figure took hazy outline against the background -of less black water. It seemed to be headed for the shore. - -Harry undid the knot of his scarf and took it off, crunching the soft -fabric into a wad. Then he stole forward, and with simultaneous -movements threw one arm about the walking figure and with the other hand -stuffed the wadded scarf into its mouth and held it in. Then, tripping -the boy by a dextrous movement of his foot, he let him gently to the -ground. As the sentinel was taken completely by surprise, it was all -done in a second. - -“Hello, Atwell, you Laughing Hyena,” he whispered. “It’s your old -college chum, Harry Arnold,—don’t get scared now; here, look at me,” -and he struck a match, holding it near his face. “You’re supposed to be -gagged—see? There’s a great game on for to-night. We’re going to take -the fort and have the laugh on Mr. Wade. I’m going to take this wad out -of your mouth, but understand you’re supposed to be gagged—you mustn’t -do or say a thing—understand?” - -Atwell nodded, and the gag was removed. “You’re a wonder, Arnold,” said -he. “My, but you had me scared for a minute!” - -“Don’t tell me a thing,” interrupted Harry. “You’re gagged and you can’t -talk. I’m going to tie this scarf round your neck, and that’ll mean -you’re out of the game—you’re a gagged sentinel—see? Don’t spoil it -now, will you?” - -He felt sure that the gag about Atwell’s neck would be as effectual as -one in his mouth, and he wasted no more time on that bitter enemy, for -there was another sentinel to be looked after. This turned out to be -none other than the redoubtable Frankie, who was easy game. Harry gagged -him with his handkerchief, marched him down to Atwell, who was sitting -on a rock, and left him to recover from his fright and to receive from -his fellow-sentinel a more complete explanation. - -“Remember, you’re out of the game, Frank,” whispered Harry, as he -started down toward the shore. In half an hour he was back among his own -troop with a canoe. There were other canoes, but he had managed to find -only one paddle. - -“One canoe’s all we want, anyway, Harry,” said Gordon, laughing -gleefully over his report of the gagged sentinels; “because the day must -be just breaking when we enter the fort and we must go in small -boat-loads to stretch the time out.” - -Between one and two o’clock in the morning, they began their desperate -and hazardous move against King George’s proud minions, as Gordon called -them. - -“Say, Atwell’s an awful nice fellow for a redcoat,” said Harry, as the -first three scouts, Vinton, Carpenter, and Brent, were pushed off with -many reminders of the need of absolutely silent paddling. - -“I have naught but contempt for him, and for that redcoat tyrant, Wade, -as well,” said Gordon. - -“Ay, let us think of the cruel Stamp Act to-night, and the Boston -Massacre, and—and—a few other things,” said Red Deer. “Colonel Gordon -Allen speaks what is in all our hearts!” - -“You’ll like Mr. Wade, Red Deer,” said Harry. “He’s great. His troop -thinks the world of him.” - -“His tinseled uniform was paid for by poor colonial farmers and honest -pioneers,” said Gordon, fiercely. - -“On the level?” said George Conway. - -“He wore a golf suit the last time I saw him,” said Harry. - -“Now, Harry, I can see you’re going to spoil it all. The first thing -you’ll do, you’ll go and shake hands with him before—” - -“Never!” said Harry. “Shake the hand that—er—something or -other—mm—squeezes—pinches—er—an unjust tax—er—” - -“That’s rotten, Harry!” said Brick Parks. - -“Awful,” commented Red Deer. - -“That tramples on our unavailable rights,” growled Gordon. - -“Inalienable rights, sure—that’s what his hand tramples on—if it -tramples at all.” - -“I meant his foot,” said Gordon. - -“Well, then, I won’t shake his foot, either,” said Harry. - -They sat close to the shore, and listened for the sound of the returning -canoe. - -“Guess they’re pinched,” suggested Bert. - -But soon the canoe glided silently shoreward with the faintest ripple. - -“Where did you land them?” Harry asked Roy, who brought the canoe back. - -“Just in the shadow of the fortress. They’re playing mumbly-peg with the -gagged sentinels.” - -“What’s that?” said Gordon. - -“Never fear,” said Roy. “’Tis not so. Goodman Brent and Goodman Vinton -are playing mumbly-peg with each other near the shore. We heard the -gagged sentinels talking together a few paces off.” - -“Chewing the rag,” ventured Matthew Reed. - -“Now, don’t begin that, Matty,” said Harry. “You’ve been so good up to -now.” - -“Who goes next?” Red Deer asked. - -“Goodman Walden, Goodman Morrel—” - -“Better send Morrel with the last load, Kid,” said Harry. “He’ll be sure -to talk when he gets over.” - -“Don’t call me Kid! Is that what you call respect for your leader?” - -There was no need for hurry, for they did not wish to land the last -boat-load until dawn and they preferred to make a number of trips rather -than crowd the canoe. “For,” as Gordon said, quoting Mr. Wade, “this -thing must be going on right under his very nose all night.” - -So they went over in small lots and did the whole job in eight trips, -having met with no mishap and made no sound which could possibly have -been heard within the fort. The day was just breaking. The two gagged -sentinels, faithfully silent, came down to the shore and stood meekly -watching the group. - -“Hello, Kid Lord,” ventured Frankie, in a cautious whisper. - -Gordon gave him a scathing look. “Follow, my brave fellows,” said he. - -“Did you hear that?” said Brick Parks. - -“Come on, follow,” said Mac. - -Gordon, with the gigantic, rusty sword thrown over his shoulder like a -musket, trudged up the slope, his gallant company following after, and -Red Deer, smiling and cleaning his gold specs, bringing up the rear. It -was a formidable array. There, on the summit of the grassy height, stood -the old fort, rather small and unforbidding to have such a bloody, but -glorious, history. For many years, it had been no more than a roofless -ruin, but the partial restoration had been studious and faithful, on the -outside, at least. Yes, it was, in all essentials, the same old fort -that Montcalm had held against the British in the bloody French and -Indian War, that Ethan Allen had taken, and that General Burgoyne had -retaken. - -The great portal stood open, and the intrepid leader marched boldly in. -The first gray light of morning coming through the score of port-holes -showed the forms of the occupants, each patrol sleeping in a separate -corner of the enclosure. Here was a slight divergence from historic -truth, for Captain Delaplace had slept upstairs. But there was no -upstairs now, and Mr. Wade reposed comfortably on a balsam mattress -among the Ravens. But was not the feat already accomplished? Had not the -sentinels been overpowered and gagged? And had not the brave Green -Mountain Boys crossed the lake in small boat-loads under the very nose -of the haughty Delaplace? - -“Go and poke him with your sword, Kid,” whispered Howard Brent. - -“Better tickle him,” said Mac. “Jumping jiminies, how those redcoats can -snore!” - -“Ahem,” said Gordon, gruffly, not knowing exactly how to proceed. - -“You’ll wake the wrong one,” suggested Red Deer; “better give the -captain a poke, Gordon.” - -So Gordon stepped up and prodded the Albany scoutmaster with his sword. -Mr. Wade immediately sat up, rubbing his eyes. “That you, Frank?” said -he, sleepily. “You—is it?” - -“Come down—er—I mean, get—rise up—you crawling tyrant’s minion!” -shouted Gordon. “I demand the surrender of this fort!” - -“There must be some mistake,” said Mr. Wade, rising sleepily and rubbing -his eyes. “We have permission to camp here.” - -“We scorn the warrant of King George!” Gordon answered, “and denounce -your commission—and—er—don’t we?” he ended, turning to Harry. - -“Sure we do,” said Harry. - -By this time nearly every scout was sitting up, staring. Mr. Wade was -beginning to smile. - -“I demand the surrender of this fort, Captain Delaplace Wade,” said -Gordon, waving the old sword, “in the name of the great Jehovah and the -Continental Congress! Here I stand with near a score of sturdy Green -Mountain patriots at my back. Your sentinels lie gagged. We have come -thither—I mean hither—in one of your own canoes!” - -“It’s a bum canoe, too,” said Mac. - -“Silence, Goodman Mac,” said Gordon. - -“We have come here in the name of Liberty, under the very shadow of -your—er—wait a minute—your—er—unguarded walls. Do you admit that -you were talking through your hat that night at camp-fire?” - -Mr. Wade gave one look at Dr. Brent, who was nearly bursting with -laughter. Then he went over to a corner, picked up a scout staff and -handed it respectfully to Gordon. “I surrender,” said he, laughing, “but -not unconditionally. The brave Green Mountain Boys must become our -guests.” - -In a minute all was laughing pandemonium, and introductions were as -thick in the old fortress as bullets in the days of the gallant -Montcalm. Red Deer and the tyrant Wade chatted in a way to suggest -downright treason on the part of one or the other. Al Wilson, Atwell, -and Brownell hobnobbed with Ethan Allen, as if he were a long-lost -brother. Frankie and Giant George followed Harry Arnold about, so that -it looked suspiciously as if Harry would turn Tory before the day was -over. Walter Lee displayed his new canoe to Harry in a way to suggest -that the two might have held some treasonable intercourse in times past. -But worst of all, and enough to make old King George turn in his royal -grave, what did the Green Mountain Boys do but agree to remain with the -proud redcoats for several days and then join them in a canoe trip up -the beautiful Lake George! - -The redcoat Wade’s surrender was complete. He admitted that they had -done just what he had said could not be done, and that, so far as the -transporting of the company and the overpowering of the sentinels were -concerned, it was true to history, as nearly as history could be relied -upon, when it couldn’t agree with itself. - -If we were to follow these thirty-odd boys as their flotilla of canoes -glided up the placid bosom of the beautiful lake on their homeward way, -there would be no space for the one or two incidents which have yet to -be told. The two troops parted at the head of the lake, where the -Oakwood boys took the train for New York. - -While they were bidding good-by to the Albany scouts, with many plans -for a joint camp the next summer, Frankie confided a dark secret in -Harry’s ear. “Atwell and Brownell sent me into the lean-to for the -bottle of citronella the other night, the mosquitoes were so thick.” - -“Yes? They say it’s great stuff to rub on your face,” answered Harry. - -“Of course, it was dark,” said Frankie. - -“Was, hey?” said Harry, carelessly. - -“I brought them out a bottle of ink,” Frankie concluded. “They didn’t -find it out till after they’d used it.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - MR. DANFORTH HAS HIS WAY - - -At Albany a boy boarded the train with a huge basket of sandwiches, each -neatly wrapped in paraffin paper, and Red Deer successfully negotiated -with him for his entire stock. As a scout never throws papers about -wantonly, either indoors or out, it fell out that these papers were held -by their various possessors until Gordon conceived the notion of -gathering them up. - -“What you up to now, Kid?” asked Tom Langford, as Gordon stopped at his -seat. - -“Tickets, please,” said Gordon, grabbing the paraffin paper and passing -on. - -“Playing conductor, Gordon?” Dr. Brent asked cheerfully, as Gordon -passed. - -But it turned out that this was Gordon’s first maneuver in the direction -of one of his own particular, genuine, original good turns (for not even -Black Wolf himself, with all respect to him, could stand up with G. Lord -in this particular phase of boy scouting). He hoped that no one but -himself would remember the law which had just gone into effect in the -State of New Jersey, prohibiting the public drinking-cup in railroad -trains and elsewhere, and he made no answer to the jocular remarks of -the boys, as he carefully folded the papers and tucked them away in his -pocket. - -When they reached New York and boarded the Oakwood train, there was the -usual cooler filled with ice-cold water, but no glass. The day was very -warm, and only one or two of the passengers carried drinking-cups. Then -Gordon, in his element, went through the car, deftly rolling his -paraffin papers into little cornucopias, and handing them with a word of -explanation to the astonished passengers. - -“I never even knew there was such a law,” remarked one old gentleman, to -his companion. - -“They’re a wide-awake lot—those Boy Scouts,” his friend replied. - -“Thank you so very much,” said a young lady, taking the makeshift cup. -“I’m dreadfully thirsty, too—you’re a public benefactor.” - -“Let me fill it for you,” said Gordon, grinning delightedly. As he -handed it to her, the train pulled into Oakwood, and before he had -refilled it for her to enjoy a second draught, every member of the troop -had left the car, and the train was puffing out of the station. - -“Hurry up, my boy, train’s starting,” the old gentleman called cheerily -after him; “you’ll have to jump.” - -“That’s nothing,” Gordon answered, as he swung off. - -Thus it was that Master Gordon Lord, Scout, missed his train by stopping -to do a good turn, when he started away, and almost missed his station -by doing another one, when he came home. The good turns had not lessened -his pleasure in the least; one of them had opened the way for a variety -of adventures, and, as he later remarked to a gentleman representing the -National Council, who was visiting Oakwood, and to whom he had -“recounted his adventures,” “The more you do of them, the more fun you -have, and oh, cracky, I’m glad I met Miss Leslie that first morning!” - - * * * * * - -The mention of the national councilman leads us, by a short cut, to an -important event, but in order to get to it we must take a running jump -over another one. - -It was a great day when a score or more of youthful inventors and a very -fair audience of adults besides gathered on the golf links of the -Oakwood Field Club to see the trials for the aviation cup which the -_Oakwood News_ had offered. The golfers stopped their play in honor of -the occasion, and the contestants on the tennis courts laid down their -racquets and wandered over to the field. Even so grouchy a character as -old Cobb, the club steward, had to leave his accustomed duties and -loiter out to the field as if he really didn’t care what was going on, -but just happened to be ambling in that direction. His half-interested -manner deceived no one, and his arrival was hailed by a score of voices: - -“Don’t let yourself get excited, Mr. Cobb.” - -“This is what Mr. Cobb has been counting on for a month.” - -“Give Mr. Cobb a front seat.” - -“Goin’ to have an air race with those things?” Cobb finally condescended -to grumble, though he knew perfectly what was afoot. - -“No, we’re going to have a swimming match,” said a High School boy. - -“Humph,” said Cobb. - -Mr. Carson, the manual-training teacher in the High School, was on hand -with half a dozen boys whose aeroplanes had been entered, and a good -many more, whose aeroplanes were not entered, but whose lungs were in -good condition to cheer. Will Garret, son of a local architect, was -there with a perfect model of the Van Anden machine. Howard Brent, -Matthew Reed, Ben McConnell, and Tom Langford had each entered a model. -The local Y. M. C. A. had its aviators too, who had brought their -several machines. - -There was one other contestant, besides. He sat in a big touring-car -which was drawn up among several other vehicles,—an odd, pale little -fellow, all nerves and excitement. He lived in the great stone mansion -on the hill, and he was not very well known in Oakwood yet. He seemed a -very little boy to live in such a big house and to sit in such a big -car. - -“There are some dandy ones there,” he said to the burly chauffeur, who -sat beside him. - -“There’s none of ’em has flown acrost Lake Champlain, at all,” the loyal -chauffeur answered. “Has there, Mister Arrnold?” - -Harry, who sat on the long step of the car, looked up and laughed. He -had gone about the field in his quiet way looking at the dainty little -models, some of which were masterpieces of clever construction. He had -handled Will Garret’s silver-painted flier and praised it. He had sized -up the graceful monoplanes made under Mr. Carson’s competent direction. -Then he had walked over to the auto and ruefully examined the little -aeroplane that Penfield held. It was not very well finished. The sticks -of the motor base were held together with the cap of a fountain pen, by -way of a ferrule, and Harry recognized various other results of his own -suggestions. The alarm works were bound rather far forward, and several -strands of live, red elastic hung slack between the little striking bar -and the propeller, which was in the rear. The clockwork power was -communicated to the propeller by a flat-linked brass chain. This whole -mechanism was mounted beneath two planes, monoplane fashion, -thirty-eight inches long and ten inches in width. - -Harry examined it closely. The fact is, he was anxious. He could not -bear to think of Penfield’s disappointment, but he feared that, after -all, this novel device would prove impracticable. - -Suddenly, the Oakwood band, which had been playing, stopped and the -voice of Billy Carter, the club’s gardener, rose above the buzz of -conversation. - -“Hurrah for Billy Carter!” shouted a dozen boys. - -It took Billy a few minutes to down the testimonials to his own -popularity, and then he made his announcement. - -“The first contestant for the _Oakwood News_ Aviation Cup is Henry -Archer, flying model of Santos-Dumont’s monoplane, _La Demoiselle_.” - -Archer stepped up to the chalk-line, winding his propeller. Holding his -machine steady, and pointing it slightly upward, he sent it forward. It -lurched and fluttered to the ground. He picked it up and disappeared -into the laughing crowd. There was no need to measure his flight. - -“Matthew Reed, of 1st Oakwood Troop, Boy Scouts,” shouted Billy, -consulting a memorandum, “flying miniature reproduction of Antoinette -model.” - -For a moment the cry of the Hawks and the hand-clap of the Beavers -filled the air. Matthew wound his propeller till the elastic band was -knotted, then let it fly. Amid much cheering it sailed about one hundred -feet, then fluttered down. The distance was officially marked at 92½ -feet. Then came a Bleriot model; then a Cody biplane, which looked as if -it had been fashioned from a box kite. Both fell short of Matthew’s -record. Then Tom Langford stepped up with his little willow-framed, -silk-covered, swallow-tailed affair, and sent it gliding over the -course. It crept upward at a gentle angle, never swerving, exhausted its -power in air and coasted easily downward. - -“Two hundred and ten feet,” called Billy, and referred to his paper. - -“William Ormond, of Oakwood High School, flying monoplane of his own -design, clockwork power.” - -The boy stepped up to the line, winding his motor. The graceful little -craft darted forward, its propeller spinning. Its flight was steady and -its descent slow. It dropped about two hundred and eighteen feet from -the line. - -“They can’t beat that,” some one said. - -“That’s very ingenious,” remarked another. - -“William Garret, of Oakwood High School, flying modified reproduction of -Van Anden biplane.” - -William stepped up, holding high in air the neatest model that had been -shown. Its frame was of dowel sticks, its covering made from a silk -umbrella, and the contrast of the black silk and the silver-painted -frame gave it a unique and attractive appearance. It was trussed up with -a veritable network of fine wiring, and its planes were flexed to -perfection with the pliant ribs of a lady’s fan. Its two propellers, red -and highly polished, shone in the bright sunlight. It was whispered -about that William’s father had had something to do with this, and the -little craft looked well worthy of a skilled and practiced hand. Gordon -walked over to the touring-car and sat on the step beside Harry. - -“Looks pretty slick, doesn’t she, Kid?” said Harry. - -And she went “pretty slick,” too. When both propellers had been wound -tight, the beautiful little model was started on its aerial excursion. -For fully one hundred and fifty feet it cut its way upward and onward, -amid loud cheering. Harry watched it critically. Its long strands of -elastic band, fully two feet in length, extended its power over a longer -interval of time than that of any craft thus far. And its rigidity and -proportions gave it wonderful buoyancy. It had passed the alighting -place of every previous flier when, glittering in the sunlight, its -propellers slowing down and its elastics hanging slack, it coasted -downward at a long angle. Its course had been straight as an arrow, and -it had covered four hundred and one feet. - -Following came several crank devices, none of which made much of a -showing. Then Announcer Billy seemed to be puzzling over his schedule. - -“What’s the matter, Billy?” the boys called. - -“Struck a snag, Billy?” - -“Try hard, Billy—there you go!” - -“Master Penfield Danforth, of the 1st Oakwood Troop, Boy Scouts, flying -the—a—model of his own design—propelled by the Cham—the Cham—” - -“Once more, Billy—three strikes out!” - -“—the Champastic—Torsubber—Pen—Pen—” - -“Penwiper,” some one suggested. - -“—the Pen—alarm—motive system,” Billy concluded triumphantly, amid -much cheering and laughter. - -“What kind of a wrinkle is this?” some one asked. - -Harry grabbed the aeroplane, as Penfield got down, and taking a bottle -from his pocket, doused the spring and wheels with kerosene oil. “Trot -over, Pen, old boy,” he said. “Good luck to you!” - -The little fellow, smiling nervously, carried the dripping model over to -the line. The crowd eyed him and his odd-looking monoplane with -good-natured indulgence. One or two taunts were heard, but most of the -spectators laughed amiably. - -“What’s that, an ice-wagon?” said Garret, who stood near the line, -holding his own trim little craft. “Keep still, Garret!” said another -boy. - -“Let her go!” said another. - -Any one could see that the hand which held the machine was trembling -nervously. The boy looked back toward the touring car for Harry, who -smiled back reassuringly. He would not for the world have had Penfield -know that he felt any doubt. - -The little monoplane darted from Pen’s hand, silently. He watched it -intently as it rose, plowing its way forward. At a distance of, perhaps, -two hundred feet its propeller slowed down. - -“That’s better than I thought,” some one said. - -For the fraction of a second it fluttered and its rear end settled, as -if to sink. Then a strange thing happened. There was a sudden clicking -sound in the air, and the crude little monoplane darted forward and -upward, making a bee line for the cupola of the clubhouse. Up it went, -shaking, but rising steadily. The crowd was too dumfounded to cheer. It -cleared the cupola and disappeared. And when Billy, followed by a score -or more of curious and excited spectators, picked it up more than six -hundred feet from the starting point, it began to buzz spasmodically, as -if it had forgotten all about its aerial mission and were bent on waking -some tired sleeper. - -“What under the sun is that, anyway?” asked a gentleman, pushing his way -into the crowd. “I never saw such a thing in my life!” - -“It’s guaranteed to go for ten minutes if you don’t get up and stop it,” -answered Penfield. “It came out of a patent alarm clock.” - -When Penfield went home that day, he proudly bore in his hands the -silver cup. - -“Harry,” said Dr. Brent, as they wandered from the field, “I believe -you’re more excited than when you won the boat-race—you’re all worked -up.” - -“Oh, no, I’m not,” said Harry, smiling. - - * * * * * - -“I bet Harry goes in his blue shirt,” said Mac, a week later. “You’d -better trot up the hill, G. Lord, and use your influence with him. Tell -him Miss Crosby went up in the Danforth’s auto from the 3:30.” - -“That wouldn’t faze him,” said Morrel. - -“I bet he doesn’t show up at all,” suggested Tom. “He’s afraid somebody -will offer him a prize.” - -“Honest, I wish I were like that fellow,” said Matthew Reed, earnestly. -“He isn’t afraid of anything in the world except being praised.” - -“He looked like a regular coward when Red Deer was telling Mr. Wade -about the glider feat,” commented Roy. - -“Kid says it took Mr. Danforth about five minutes to size him up.” - -“It took him only one minute,” corrected Gordon. - -“He’ll kill us when he hears of that letter we all signed.” - -“Well,” concluded Roy, “as Red Deer says, he was just born that way; he -can’t help it.” - -“It’s great to have a character like that,” Mac added. “Everybody seems -to catch a little of it.” - -“He’s all to the good, is Harry boy.” - -“Only he doesn’t know much about maidens,” said Gordon. - -“Well, I guess I’ll toddle over home and fix up,” said Matthew. “See you -to-night.” - -It was a large audience that gathered in the Town Hall to see and hear -the well-known gentleman representing the National Scout Council, whose -visit to Oakwood had been duly heralded in the Oakwood press. But they -were not gathered wholly to hear him, either, for Oakwood was proud of -its scout troop. The wholesome, cheery, chivalrous, khaki-clad boys who -flitted about her shaded streets were a part of her local charm. If -there is any one who is not attracted by Boy Scouts, he must be either -blind or crazy. They have made the scout smile epidemic. Quietly they -come and go, picking up your parcel for you, or opening the shop door -for you to pass in or out. In Oakwood they had planted flowers along the -public way. They had raised a flagpole on the green. They had made tall -baskets and placed them at intervals along the streets for scraps of -paper and other refuse. Not a resident of the town but had paused, -smiling, in his walks abroad and listened to their bugle or patrol calls -in the neighboring woods. Not a lady but had seen some slouch hat, -cocked jauntily up at the side, pulled quickly off in deference to her -as she passed. - -No wonder a line of autos stood outside the Town Hall that night. No -wonder the Field Club dance had been postponed till the little flurry -blew over. - -The troop sat on the stage, one patrol occupying each side, with chairs -in the center for the scoutmaster and the members of the local council. -The corporal of each patrol held its banner on the end of a scout staff. -On two pedestals in the background were mounted a stuffed hawk and a -beaver—the gifts of Mr. Lord. On a rustic, rough-hewn board, suspended -above the center of the stage by ropes tied in the standard knots which -every scout must know, was printed the scouts’ motto, - - BE PREPARED - -Most of the boys had already taken their seats when Harry came quietly -in and dropped into the chair reserved for the Beavers’ patrol leader, -next to Corporal Greer, who held the banner staff. He actually wore his -khaki suit. - -“Doesn’t he look fine?” said Tom Langford, in an audible whisper. - -“Su—perb!” answered Charlie, turning. - -“Harry, your beautiful, willowy form—” - -“Keep still, will you!” said Harry. - -“Say, Harry boy,” said George Conway, leaning forward, “do look at those -girls in the second row! Do, please look, Harry, they simply can’t take -their eyes off you!” - -“Go on, Harry, look,” Bert Waring urged. - -The Hawk Patrol smiled significantly, across the stage, and Mac opened -his eyes and drew a long breath in pantomimic admiration, which was not -wholly lost on the audience. It was fortunate for Harry that Red Deer -and the local council came on at this critical and embarrassing -juncture, escorting the gentleman from headquarters. Both patrols rose, -making the full salute. Then some one in the audience called, “Three -cheers for Dr. Brent!” The doctor stood, smiling and wiping his gold -spectacles, while three cheers were given that made the rafters ring, -the troop doing their full share. Then both patrols took their seats. - -“I thank you all, heartily,” said Dr. Brent, “scouts and audience alike, -and if I could make a speech I would, but I am not prepared—” At this, -the whole house laughed and applauded. - -“It may seem strange for a scoutmaster to have to stand up and make such -a confession, but you will admit that I am not wholly deficient in the -scout law, and that I, at least, know how to smile and look pleasant.” -(Roars of laughter.) - -“Ladies and gentlemen, and fellow-scouts, I have had the time of my -life—” (He put on his gold specs and immediately took them off again.) -“I have had _my_ reward—the privilege of being with these splendid boys -all summer.” (Applause.) “There is nothing coming to me.” (Voice, -“That’s all you know about it!”) “I would rather have these boys for -friends—I would rather have them believe in me—than to have the -friendship of the most influential man in the United States.” (Voice, -“You’ve got your wish, Doctor!”) “I would rather have seen and heard -what I have seen and heard this summer than to have my college -training.” (Cheers for Red Deer.) “But I am not here to talk. You will -be glad to know that three of our troop, Daniel Swift, John Walden, and -Gordon Lord, are to be enrolled as first-class scouts, and Howard Brent -as second-class scout. We are also glad to welcome Penfield Danforth -into the ranks of the tenderfeet. You may be slightly interested to know -that I myself have won the archery badge.” (Voice, “Bully for you, -Doc!”) “And that Matthew Reed, our troop jester,” (laughter) “is to wear -the badge for marksmanship. I could win this badge myself if I tried.” -(Laughter and applause.) “You all know Brick—er—I mean, Winfield -Parks. He has used up every photographic film in upper New York and he -has a snapshot menagerie. We are going to give him the stalker’s badge -to keep him quiet.” (Applause.) “You all know Ki—that is, Gordon Lord. -He is good to take three times a day, after meals, especially if you -have the blues.” (Broad scout smile from Gordon.) “I have been -authorized by the committee of awards of the National Scout Council to -tender to Gordon Lord the bronze medal. This medal is given for helping -to save or preserve life. Those of you who have read the history of our -troop’s summer, as printed in the local press, know of the circumstances -which led to this award, and it is not necessary for me to rehearse the -details of how this boy discovered an injured fellow-scout, bleeding and -unconscious, in a ditch, bandaged his wounds in the darkness of night, -and sent him aid. If he had not discovered the boy and sent help to him, -the injured scout would have died—there is little doubt of that. I am -glad, Gordon,” he said, “that you have passed the first-class tests, for -it makes the awarding of this badge possible. Come here, my boy.” - -Gordon never looked quainter, more original, more jaunty, than when he -stepped forward to receive the badge. There was not a person in the hall -but smiled to see his round head cocked sideways and looking up at Red -Deer. He wore a brand-new scout suit in honor of the occasion, and as he -waited he gave his stocking just the suggestion of a hitch, which -brought down the house. - -As the audience burst into applause and laughter, Gordon joining in -charming bewilderment at the great hit he was making, the national -councilman beckoned to him and cordially shook his hand. He was so -delightfully confused when he went to take his seat that he marched -plunk into the Hawk Patrol, to the great amusement of the Beavers -opposite. It was too late to correct his mistake; the Hawks hung on to -him and there he sat wedged between Mac and Tilford Morrel, who glared -triumphantly at their brother scouts across the stage. - -Then Red Deer introduced the gentleman representing the award committee -of the National Council. He was a very well-known man, and the Oakwood -people greeted him enthusiastically. - -“Ladies and gentlemen, and scouts,” he said, “the sight of this genial -audience watching and applauding these fine boys and their beloved -scoutmaster was worth coming a long way to see. It is easy to understand -why they worship him and why he is proud of them—why you are all proud -of the scouts and their leader. I thank you for giving me such a -welcome, but I am not here to make a speech. Rather, will I speak to you -in the words of others, for I bring back to you words which have come to -us from your own town. And I am to perform a duty which cannot be -performed by your scoutmaster. It is a duty which I am not accustomed -to, as it has only twice been performed before in this country. The -National Council is in receipt of a letter signed by all you boys save -one,” he went on, turning to the troop, “but the action which you -requested had been already decided upon. You are acquainted with Mr. E. -C. Wade, scoutmaster of the 1st Albany Troop.” (Applause from the boys.) -“A letter of similar purport was received from him, signed by every -member of his three patrols.” (“Vile redcoats!” Mac whispered in -Gordon’s ear.) - -Harry looked about, puzzled. Charlie Greer pounded him on the knee, and -winked across at the Hawks’ corporal. - -The little flurry of excitement among the troop was abruptly ended by -the councilman’s next words. “A complaint has been received against one -of your number,” said he. A dead silence prevailed. Even Red Deer took -off his glasses and stared. Then he smiled. - -“The National Council is in receipt of a letter signed by a name which -cannot be ignored, a name which is widely known in the realm of -commercial enterprise and of public charity. It appears that one member -of your troop has occasioned this gentleman a considerable annoyance.” -You could have heard a pin drop, as he unfolded a typewritten letter and -read: - - “Gentlemen: - - “On the 29th day of June, of this year, a boy of your - organization—Harry Arnold by name—living in Oakwood, N. J., - rescued my little son from drowning in Lake Champlain. He - appeared to deprecate his performance and refused a trifling - reminder of my gratitude on the ground of some law which he says - governs your members. I understand that this same code of - by-laws requires strict obedience to superiors. Will you kindly - correct what, I am sure, must be an erroneous conception of his - duty in this particular matter, and have the proper authorities - instruct him that it is his duty to accept the trifling gift - which I offered. I will add that the gift was not of money. - - “The saving of my son’s life and his subsequent acquaintance - with his rescuer has brought great happiness into a rather frail - little life, which has not escaped the notice of two anxious - parents, and the whole occurrence has directed my interest to - the organization which can produce or at least bring such boys - to the front. It has been the greatest pleasure of my summer - sojourn in the country to fall in with this boy, to watch his - activities, and to talk with him (to say nothing of his - interesting companion). He is in all ways a splendid, noble boy, - and it is gratifying to think what a man such a boy will make. - - “It has occurred to me that many of the companies of scouts in - this part of the country are less favored by fortune than the - troop to which this boy belongs, and that they lack the - advantages which a rural life affords. The country where these - Oakwood boys have spent their summer is healthful and historic. - If the gentlemen interested in your very worthy enterprise are - disposed to accept some testimonial of my good wishes and - interest, I should be pleased to talk with them as to the idea - of erecting a pavilion with grounds and all camping facilities, - suitably endowed, where troops of these less fortunate Boy - Scouts may camp. - - “I shall be glad to arrange some plan by which a summer outing, - transportation, etc., included, might be made feasible for many - companies of boys where the same is not possible now, and I - should like the name of this particular boy to be identified in - some way with it. - - “Awaiting your views upon the matter, I beg to remain, - - “Very sincerely yours, - “R. E. Danforth.” - -Every eye was upon Harry as the gentleman refolded the letter, and he -was blushing scarlet. Charlie Greer, sitting next him, patted his -shoulder, saying, “You’ll have to stick it out, old man.” Harry’s -nervous, embarrassed glance caught Gordon among the Hawks opposite, who -was grinning with delight and satisfaction. Then the audience broke into -applause, and some enterprising enthusiast called for Mr. Danforth. This -started the ball rolling. They dragged him down the aisle to the stage. -Red Deer was there to haul him up, aided by the sturdy warriors of the -local council. He emerged from the tumult into the center of the stage, -somewhat the worse for his experience and rather abashed to be brought -into such prominent notice, but with a genial smile on his wrinkled -face. They tried to make him speak, but he laughed and shook his head. -So they ordered him into one of the vacant chairs among the local -councilmen. And there he sat, with a genial twinkle in his shrewd eyes, -his scanty gray locks shining under the electric lights. - -Then the speaker asked Harry Arnold to stand. It looked for a moment as -if there were going to be no response—a kind of awkward suspense. Then -he rose, holding the back of his chair with one hand, as if he would -resume his seat the first minute he got a chance. Roy Carpenter, leader -of the Hawks, made a motion and every member of both patrols rose. This -was too much for Harry. In a kind of daze he saw the councilman holding -a small plush box. He saw the Hawk Patrol opposite, standing with their -hands raised in the full salute. He caught the glitter of Red Deer’s -spectacles. He saw Mr. Danforth smiling at him. He felt a hand on his -shoulder from behind. “Brace up, Harry boy,” whispered Tom Langford; -“it’s only a minute.” - -“Come here, my boy,” he heard, and stepped forward reluctantly, standing -before the speaker with a kind of bewildered, startled expression, with -one hand against his hip in an attitude that was characteristic of him. - -“My boy, you have heard this gentleman’s letter. It is said of him that -he is very good at reading character. That letter was answered, others -were passed, and his generous, big-hearted offer has been accepted. A -great good turn has been done to the Boy Scout organization. In summers -to come, many poorer boys will enjoy the freedom of the open woods; many -troops from the heat and turmoil of the great cities will be taken to -the beautiful country whence you have lately returned, to track and -stalk and study nature; and they must thank not only this kindly -gentleman, but you who gave him the incentive. - -“He has asked you to receive a gift at his hands in grateful -acknowledgment of a deed of heroism. This you saw fit to decline. We -have told him that your own will must govern this case. There is no -reason why you should not, under the peculiar circumstances, accept his -gift, my boy. Your scoutmaster hopes that you will do so. I hope you -will do so. But we cannot order you to accept. Perhaps you have some -friend, learned in the scout law, who will influence you.” (Side glances -at Gordon from the troop.) - -“There sits among your patrol now the boy whose life you saved. Among -those other boys” (indicating the Hawks) “there sits another boy whose -life you saved at imminent hazard of your own. I will not embarrass you -by rehearsing the circumstances. Your whole summer has been filled with -exhibitions of resource, with credit and honor. Your fellow-scouts have -asked that you be awarded the highest honor we can give you. There is an -award, my boy, the highest possible award for service and heroism, which -may be granted to a scout who has saved life at the greatest risk to -himself. - -“I have come here, Arnold, to award to you this medal, the Golden Cross. -It is the highest testimonial you may win, the highest that any scout -may win.” - -As he spoke, a white ribbon glittered in his hand. This he pinned on -Harry’s right breast. It formed a spotless, snowy background for a -golden cross with the full badge of the scouts superimposed upon it. - -Red Deer stepped forward and grasped Harry’s hand. And it was plain to -see why the boy had stood slightly turned from the audience, for his -eyes glistened. He shook hands with them all as they crowded about, -delighting to honor him, but he was too overcome to speak. Brick Parks -pushed Swift and Waring aside, landing a cordial pound on Harry’s -shoulder. Gordon worked his way in and grabbed both his hands. - -“Come with me just a minute, my boy,” said Mr. Danforth. He put his arm -over Harry’s shoulder, and guided him through the throng and out of the -building. “I want you to see my daughters. I saw them go out—to escape -the crowd, I suppose—oh, yes, here they are.” He led the way to a big -red touring-car, where a familiar voice greeted Harry. - -“I suppose he deduced that we were waiting out here. Oh, I want to -congratulate you—do let me see it!” He handed the medal to her, and it -was passed about and examined by all the occupants of the auto. “It’s no -more than you deserve” Miss Crosby said, and added, whispering: “You -will accept the boat, won’t you? Oh, please do!” - -“Perhaps I’ll walk up to-morrow and we’ll fight it out on the tennis -court,” said Harry. - -“Oh, yes, do come, and bring your sister. I want so much to meet her. -But you must take the boat.” She lowered her voice and glanced about, as -if to communicate some dark secret. “You might as well give in right -now, you are no match for Mr. Danforth—he’s a perfect ghoul for -thinking up ways of doing things and getting the best of people!” - -During this conversation, Gordon, with terrific exertion and with the -full strength of his two arms, was keeping half a dozen scouts from -approaching the car. “Can’t you see he’s talking to a maiden?” said he. - -Among the autos was a comfortable surrey, with two stamping, impatient -black horses. It belonged at the old family mansion on the hill, for the -Arnolds had kept their horses, which looked odd among all the paint and -brass glitter of the autos. Into this vehicle Harry jumped. His mother -and father sat in front, and beside him on the rear seat was his sister, -a girl of fifteen, who threw her arms impulsively about his neck as the -horses started. - -“What’s the matter?” said Harry. - -“Nothing. Can’t I kiss you if I want to?” - -“Certainly—seen anything of Gordon?” - -“He was standing guard near that auto a minute ago.” - -“Hey, Kid!” Harry shouted back. “Coming up?” - -A small figure darted out from the crowd and after the carriage. Some -one called, “It’s going too fast for you, Kid,” and the boy answered, -“That’s nothing.” Presently two hands grabbed the back seat and the -small figure came tumbling in between brother and sister. - -The loud, hollow hand-clap of the Beavers, mingled with the piercing cry -of the Hawks, sounded vociferously from the hall entrance, as the team -of blacks, trotting briskly, disappeared around a turn of the road. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALONG THE MOHAWK TRAIL*** - - -******* This file should be named 60269-0.txt or 60269-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/0/2/6/60269 - - -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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