Mr. Pender swooped down and seized Paul's hand, which he squeezed so heartily that he almost made the tears come to the boy's eyes.
"That sounds good to me, my boy. Please tell me about it. Where was it at the time? And do you think it can have gone beyond Stanhope? I hope you didn't give the gentleman any idea that you had ever heard a word about him or his car?"
"Oh! I give you my word, sir, that they never dreamed I knew a thing about them. A scout has to learn how to keep his feelings in check, you see, Mr. Pender. I acted just as naturally as Jack did; and he knew nothing."
"Well, tell me about it now, please."
Stopping at the corner, Paul started in to relate all the incidents connected with that meeting on the road. The gentleman hung upon every word. He certainly looked pleased, and Paul realized that he had done something worth while. To his credit be it said that never once had he entertained the thought of receiving any sort of reward for his services.
"All this is of the greatest importance to me, my boy. I am frank to tell you that the successful capture of those two men you have so ably described, thanks to your scout training, will mean much to me. And depend upon it, if success rewards my efforts, I shall certainly remember that you gave me very valuable assistance in the undertaking."
"Then you think I might have a reward, don't you, Mr. Pender?" he said.
"I most positively do, and right now and here I'm willing to promise you—"
"Wait a little, Mr. Pender. There's only one thing you could do to pay me for the little assistance I have been to you. Some time later on, after you get back to Washington, write me a letter on your official paper, stating just what aid the Boy Scouts of the Red Fox patrol were to you in furthering the ends of justice. That's all any of us could accept, sir."
"By Jove! I'm proud to know such boys, and proud to shake hands with the fine scout leader at their head!" exclaimed the Government representative, as he cordially thrust out his digits.
But "once bit, twice shy"; and Paul shook his head as he caressed his fingers.
"Excuse me, won't you, Mr. Pender; but once at a time is enough. I expect to have a lot of use for my right hand to-night, sir," he laughed.
"Oh! pardon me, my dear boy!" cried the other, "I was forgetting that it wasn't the hand of a tiller of the soil I squeezed. I'll be more careful next time. But your news was so unexpected, coming at a moment when I had received some depressing information by mail, that I quite forgot myself. Please continue to keep these facts to yourself for a little while longer, Paul."
"Yes, sir; until you give me leave to speak I won't tell anybody, not even my own folks at home. And if we are so fortunate as to get that letter from you, Stanhope Troop will have a big advantage over other competitors. You know, sir, we are competing for an elegant banner; and the other patrols have been working all summer; so that we've just got to get busy if we hope to have a show in."
"I don't care if they've been going along a year, I'd be willing to wager that Stanhope will win the prize. That shows what faith I put in the leader of the Red Fox patrol. Nothing is going to ever hold you back. I can see the spirit glowing right now in your eyes," and Mr. Pender nodded his head wisely as he said this.
Paul turned red under the praise.
Mr. Pender was apparently anxious to know all he could about the place around the abandoned mill.
"Have you seen this party named Solus Smithers?" he asked, presently, as they walked slowly on in company.
"Yes, sir; several times. He's a very tall and thin man, with a face I never liked. He's driven some of us boys away from the mill pond this last summer. We have always fished there, and nobody ever said a word; but he acted as if he had an idea some of us would steal his old house. He even brought out a gun once, and warned three fellows off. After a while no one cared to go up there. Some of the boys even said they believed the old man was daffy, and that he might shoot if anybody made him real mad."
"Oh! yes; I see; and he didn't want trespassers on his farm, eh? Does the mill pond stand on the ground he's rented?" asked the gentleman.
"Oh! yes, and all the ground around there. It must cover four hundred acres, but most of it is in woodland, you see, sir," replied Paul, promptly.
"Can you tell me what Smithers looks like, Paul?"
"He's very tall, stoops quite a lot, uses snuff like they do down in North Carolina, and has small blue eyes and a queer nose. Some of the boys say it looks as if it had been broken. That man in the red car knew it when Jack called it a hooked nose, sir."
Mr. Pender slapped his thigh as though in great glee.
"Well, this is great luck, sure enough. From your description I believe that I know this Mr. Solus Smithers, though that isn't his name at all. It keeps on getting better and better, the deeper I grub. And if all turns out well, I shall owe you a heavy debt, my dear boy."
"Make it up in that letter then, sir. The stronger the better. And if you happen to need any further assistance don't hesitate to call on us. We've got some dandy trackers in the Red Fox patrol; and it would have to be a pretty smart fellow to pull the wool over their eyes, sir."
"Good for you, Paul," said the gentleman, warmly; "always ready to sound the trumpet for your comrades; but if the truth were told I reckon I'd find the scout leader at the top of the bunch when it came to a knowledge of woodcraft."
"Please don't, sir," pleaded Paul.
"Jack has been confiding to me all about how you've always been deeply interested in outdoor life," went on Mr. Pender; "but as you have told me all you know about this red car that has gone along the Grapevine Road, headed for the old mill pond, I believe I'll have to leave you. Take my hand, won't you, Paul? I promise to be good, and not put on pressure, though my heart is very warm toward you, lad."
So Mr. Pender hurried away.
Paul turned back. He had noticed an air of unusual excitement inside the post-office, and his curiosity was stirred. While Mr. Pender and his strange mission was in the foreground, of course, he had been able to pay little attention to anything else; but now that this was shelved he could not resist the inclination to return, and ask what made the people stand around in knots as though exchanging views.
He discovered Ted Slavin and three of his friends jabbering away just inside the door, and heard one of them exclaim:
"Course we will go along; it'd be a big feather in our cap, fellers, if we'd be the ones to bring him back."
"Yes, send out word for the boys to get together, Ted. We'll show 'em what we fellers that has hunted since we was knee high, know about follerin' a trail!" another remarked.
"Let up, you; d'ye want to give the whole snap away? See who's here!" whispered Ted; but in such a hoarse tone of voice that Paul could not help hearing.
Of course his curiosity was still further aroused. Whatever could have happened in quiet Stanhope, to cause all this gathering of people, and such earnest consultations?
He saw Chief Billings, who was in charge of the police force in the town, leaving the post-office, and noted that a large delegation trailed after him.
Could it be possible that the local authorities had in some manner become aware of the fact that law breakers were abroad in the land? Was Mr. Jared Pender, the Government expert, about to have rivals in the field? When those cronies of Ted spoke of following a trail could they have had any reference to the track of the wonderful red automobile with the khaki-colored top; and occupied by the two parties whom Mr. Pender wished to catch, as he said, "with the goods on?"
Paul hoped not. It would complicate things very much; and in the confusion the rascals might manage to slip away. Paul had known Chief Billings to undertake a clever piece of business before now; but never succeed in accomplishing one.
Some one banged into him as he turned a corner in the building.
"Why, hello! Paul, that you?" said a voice.
It was Si Growdy, who claimed to be a nephew of old Peleg, but who had never been known to be recognized by the crusty old farmer. He clerked in one of the general stores, of which Stanhope boasted several big ones, where everything, from a package of pins to a coffin could be purchased.
"What's all the row about, Si?" demanded the acting scout master, as he seized hold of the clerk, to head him off; for Si seemed to be in a hurry as usual; he worked for a man who was a driver, and had to give an account of every minute of his time.
"Ain't you heard nawthin' about it, Paul? Where you ben all this afternoon?" was the way the clerk answered one question with another.
"Up in the woods with the scouts, doing stunts. But tell me what's gone wrong? Another robbery at the jewelry store; or has some one sneaked away with one of the coffins your house carries?" pursued Paul.
"If anybody ever got off with a pin that didn't belong to 'em at our emporium, the fact ain't never been known. I've seen the boss chargin' customers with the cracker they eat when samplin'. We got orders to make light weight if they buy. But about this rumpus; they's a child lost!" said Si.
"Who's child?" asked Paul, instantly deeply interested.
"Mr. Boggs' little Willie. The Chief was just in to talk with him. He's all broken up over it, because you know, he uses a crutch, and can't help hunt."
Paul knew Mr. Boggs assisted the post-master in his duties; and many a time had Paul chatted with the pretty little chap who played around the building while his father was assorting the incoming mails. Willie Boggs had always been a universal favorite. He was the sweetest child in all Stanhope, and everybody loved him.
Paul was shocked at the news. Still, he hoped it might not be as bad as Si said.
"Where did it happen? How do they know? Who saw little Willie last? What has been done to find him?" he fired at the clerk like the discharge of a Gatling gun.
"Glory! expect me to tell the hull story, with my boss asettin' there inside the store, watchin' the clock, an' dockin' me for every minute I'm late? All right, who cares? And besides, Paul, p'raps that troop of yours might be useful in follerin' the tracks of poor little Willie," Si went on.
"Where, when, how?" demanded the scout master, resolutely.
"This mornin' it happened. Willie went with Annie Spooner to get some leaf mould in the edge of the woods, for her ma's flowers. She came back just at noon an' sed Willie had strayed away in the woods."
"Did anybody go to look for Willie?" asked Paul.
"Three boys went out to bring him in. They hunted high an' low, but he wa'n't there. Then a dozen people set out to search the woods. Just now they come back to say Willie ain't to be found high nor low. That stirs the big chief some. He 'low he knows how the thing's to be did; and so he's agoin' to organize a hunt for the lost child. That's all. Now, let me get back to my slave tasks, Paul."
"And night coming on," murmured Paul, as he looked out of the door to where people were assisting the crippled Mr. Boggs across the square in the direction of his nearby home, where his wife was no doubt waiting eagerly for some news of the missing darling.
Si Growdy shot out of the door, and headed in the direction of the store where he gave his valuable services daily from seven in the morning until late in the evening, for a miserable pittance.
Paul walked thoughtfully out of the post-office. He was tired from his exertions of the afternoon; but all that was immediately forgotten when he mentally pictured the weeping mother in that little cottage where the honeysuckle climbed above the door. Then he thought of the terror of the little fellow, wandering about in the great woods with night coming down, and all sorts of strange noises arising to chill his blood.
"I'll do it!" exclaimed Paul presently; "the chance is too good to be lost. Why let Ted and Ward have the inside track? Just as soon as I can send word around we'll test our new system of bringing a bunch of the Fox scouts together. And then, if the boys are willing, we'll try and discover where Willie Boggs has wandered. It's a glorious opportunity to find out if what we've learned is worth having. Here goes then, to send out the call for help!"
"Why, Paul, what's all this hurry mean?"
"I just want to get a few bites of supper, mother, and then rush off. I've sent out the call for a hurry meeting of the patrol. Some people call it the emergency signal. Every one of the scouts knows what it means. Those who can get out will be gathering here inside of half an hour."
"But it must be something very unusual that urges you to do this. You've been on the go all afternoon, and I don't know that it is wise to bolt your supper in such a style, just to be ready to greet the boys when they arrive."
"Mother, you don't understand. Father hasn't come back from his afternoon round of visits, has he? Then you couldn't possibly know," went on Paul.
"Know—what, my son?" questioned his mother, seeing that the boy was worked up more than usual.
"We're going to organize a searching party. Perhaps some of the scouts may be smart enough to get on the track. It's poor little Willie Boggs, mother."
"Searching party—Willie Boggs! Is the child lost?"
"Yes, and has been ever since before noon, in the big woods. You see it's just beginning to get dark now. Think of the poor little fellow wandering perhaps miles off in the woods. What if a storm should come up?" and Paul's manner told how he felt.
"But there are no wild animals large enough to injure the child. The most he could suffer would be exposure to the night air; that and the fright of finding himself alone. Oh! it is a terrible thing though; and little Willie is all his poor father has left. It would kill him if anything happened," declared the good lady, whose heart was very tender.
"Now you see why I'm in such a hurry to get a bite, mother. Every minute might count, for perhaps he is wandering further and further away. You'll let Jane get me something in a jiffy, won't you, now?" continued the eager lad.
"Gladly, and help her too, after you have told me more. How do you boys expect to look for the child in the blackness of those woods?"
"Every scout will carry a lantern, with which we have practiced signal wig-wagging until we are able to send messages back and forth. Besides that, we can form a long line across the woods, and comb nearly every bit of it, looking into every stack of brush and waste to see if Willie has lain down. And mother, think if we should just find him, how glad you'd be that we went out!"
"Indeed, I should! I shall pray that you succeed, my boy. And it does you great credit that you are so earnest in your desire to help others. Sit down, and I'll wait on you myself," and Mrs. Morrison bustled away toward the kitchen as she spoke.
As Paul was hastily devouring his supper, for he was as hungry as a wolf, who should come in but the doctor. And of course he had to be told; though Paul's mother took this task upon herself, giving the boy a chance to eat.
Through the window Paul could see that already several fellows had gathered; and other lanterns were meanwhile coming like giant fireflies through the gathering gloom of the night.
The prospect of bringing his scout troop into action for such a good cause was particularly pleasing to the boy who temporarily filled the office of leader. Spurred to do their very best by a recollection of the vows they had so recently taken, the members of Stanhope Troop might be depended on to bring credit to their organization.
By the time Paul issued from the house there were a full dozen of his chums present. He was glad to see that all the original charter members forming the Red Fox patrol were on hand. They happened to live closer than others who had joined later; and boys of a particular community generally flock together.
Immediately a great hubbub ensued. Those who did not know what all the fuss was about had to be "put wise," as William said. And Paul was called upon to explain his plans for the tracking of little Willie Boggs, who had become as a chip on the torrent, a wanderer in that mysterious forest, the end of which few Stanhope fellows had ever reached in their wanderings up over the hills.
There were now fourteen present, and Paul determined not to wait for any more of the troop to come to time.
"Fall in!"
Down the street they marched, the lanterns flickering as they swung to and fro.
No wonder people, rushing to the doors as shouts arose, began to ask eagerly if the lost child had been recovered.
"It's the Boy Scouts; and they're going out to join the hunt!" some one shouted.
"Oh! they're about a mile behind Ted and his crowd!" jeered one fellow who must have had leanings toward the Slavin party; he had been detected in cheating so often in every game boys played that for months now he found himself left severely alone by decent fellows, and it was reported had applied for admission to the patrol Ward and Ted were getting up.
Out of the town, and straight to the spot where the lost boy had last been seen Paul led his squad. He knew that it would be only a miracle if the many feet that had trod the ground over would have left any trace of the child's little shoes; but he still had hopes that the training some of his scouts possessed would bring more or less success.
The unique sight of all those lanterns on the road had attracted many people, so that when they arrived at the spot Paul had in mind, fully thirty followed, a number of them boys who came only to make sport of the scouts.
"Spread out, fellows," said the scout leader, quietly, "and examine every foot of ground. If you find a single impression of Willie's little shoe, give the signal, and I'll come; but hold your places every one."
Immediately the scene became an animated one. Lanterns flashed hither and thither, swinging close to the ground; while young eyes searched diligently for a trace.
In less than five minutes the signal sounded, and Paul hurried over to the one who had given the same. Jack was at his elbow, and between them they examined the mark, to ascertain in what quarter it pointed.
Then the advance was taken up in that direction.
Again came the thrilling cry that told of a new footprint that had been found.
This time it was Wallace Carberry who had made the discovery. He talked so intelligently about it that Paul determined to keep him close by. Wallace would be a valuable advisor in case he and Jack disagreed at any time as to what the signs meant.
So they went on for an hour, finding a footprint now and then to encourage them. These came at more frequent intervals when they got far enough away to avoid the trampled soil where the crowd had hunted all the afternoon.
Those who had followed were now missing. They had seen that the scouts meant business, and did not care to wander so far from town. Hence, Paul presently found that he and his patrol had the woods almost to themselves.
Several times though he had seen other lanterns wandering around, and guessed that these were carried by some of the Slavin crowd, also diligently combing the woods in the hope of being the lucky ones to find the missing boy.
The chief of police and his party had gone off in an altogether different direction.
"How long can we keep this up, Paul?" asked Jack, when they had been moving on for two hours, with no end in sight.
"Don't know, but we ought to be able to put our best foot forward just as long as that little fellow does, don't you think?" replied the other, reproachfully.
"Why, of course, and don't think I'm showing the white feather so early in the game. I've made up my mind never to go back until he's found. Why, we can camp right in the woods if it comes to it. And that would be a bully experience for every Fox in the bunch. Think of having to make beds out of branches! Ain't I glad some of us brought our camp hatchets along."
"And Jack, it would leave us in a good position to take up the hunt again in the morning; for you see we'd be right on the ground where the little chap passed along. Suppose you call out again. He might hear, and answer."
Jack obeyed, and repeated the name of Willie in a loud voice again and again. But only the echoes of the great woods answered. If the boy were within reach of that cheery hail he must be wrapped in the sleep of exhaustion, and unable to reply.
Finally Jack ceased to call, for he was growing very husky.
The search still went on with unabated zeal, each boy trying to vie with his mates in the endeavor to make some new discovery. Paul examined every faint print of that little foot, desirous of fixing the time it was made. Wallace joined him in this, and it was clearly shown that hours must have elapsed since the child passed that way.
"Still, he may be within fifty yards of where we are. Let's keep at it as long as we can, and only camp when some are too tired to go on," declared Paul, greatly disappointed to think that they had thus far been baffled by hard luck.
It was astonishing to see how far the little fellow had wandered; but fear always lends wings to the feet; and all the while Willie doubtless really believed he must be heading toward home.
And Paul noted another fact that somehow gave him new interest in the enterprise. By degrees the trail had swung around to the left, as is nearly always the case when grown persons are lost; and the principle seemed to hold good in the case of even a child.
In itself this was not strange; but Paul knew that if they kept on for another hour the chances were they would come upon the old mill pond, nestling in the valley. The fact caused him to remember his friend Mr. Pender; to once more mentally see that red motor with the khaki-colored top; and to picture the two strangers who had asked him so many questions.
Was this really an accident, their being drawn out toward the farm of the unneighborly Sol Smithers; or might it turn out to be the working of destiny?
He was aroused by a call that he had been expecting to hear for some time now.
One of the scouts felt forced to admit that he was "all in." They had done manly work to keep up the tramp all this time, being but boys at best.
It meant that camp must be made, and the balance of the night spent there in the woods, waiting for day to come to renew their search.
Poor little Willie was destined then to pass still more hours, surrounded by the terrors of the black and unknown forest. But probably by this time he must be so exhausted through his unusual exertions that he was dead to the world in sleep; so it would not matter very much.
Soon all was bustle as the fourteen lads began to make ready to spend a time in open camp. The sound of hatchets made pleasant music, as branches were cut, and beds made close to the fire that had been started.
Some of the smaller lads were so utterly exhausted that they just dropped to the ground, and went to sleep. Paul and Jack passed around to see that these wornout fellows did not lie too near the blaze; and that they were fairly comfortable.
In an hour's time it seemed as though every one were taking solid comfort after such rude fashion as could be devised. One of the boys had brought his camera along, keen to secure novel effects; and without warning he set off a flash that gave him a picture of the slumbering heroes on their lowly beds, that would be ever afterwards treasured as invaluable.
At the brilliant illumination several sat up, and one even gave a cry of alarm, thinking perhaps that lightning had struck a tree close by; but with the coming of darkness again they settled back.
But Paul could not sleep. He was only waiting until some of the more restless souls quieted down. Then he and Jack, together with Wallace, meant to again tackle the job of seeking for further imprints of those worn little shoes among the dead leaves, and in the soft soil under the giant trees.
Somehow Paul believed that the hunt was bound to carry them to the very door of that farmhouse on the mill pond. He was induced to suspect this because the last time they had examined the small shoeprints, the mark of a much larger foot had appeared beside it; and after mature deliberation he and Wallace came to the conclusion that some man, walking through the forest, had discovered the trail of the child,and was following it!
He looked around him. As near as he could tell every one of the tired scouts was slumbering soundly.
So Paul silently arose, touching Jack on the shoulder, who immediately gave Wallace Carberry the signal.
The three uttered no word, but moving softly back from the circle of firelight, carrying their almost exhausted lanterns, made ready to once more start out into the depths of the wood; with the lonely farmhouse now rented by the surly Sol Smithers just half a mile further to the north!
"There it is again, Paul!"
"As sure as you live we're being followed, boys!" and Wallace allowed his voice to rise just above a hoarse whisper when he made this energetic remark.
The three were crouching in the bushes.
As yet Paul had not caught a glimpse of the object which seemed to disturb both of his friends; but he was looking sharply now.
"Why, yes, I do believe you are right, fellows," he said, calmly.
"Well, you take it mighty cool, I must say," declared Jack.
"Because I see no reason to get flurried over such a little thing, boys," was what the leader replied.
"Little thing, when you know Ted Slavin and a bunch of his toadies came up here to get all the glory they could out of this business! Don't you understand, Paul, that if they thought they could down us, they'd just as lief waylay us in the woods, and put an end to all our expectations?"
This was a very unusual way of talking for Wallace, but it only went to show how the boy was worked up over the situation, and made nervous by the continuous strain.
"But how do you know those moving figures are Ted and Ward, or even any of that crowd?" demanded Paul.
The others hesitated, and finally Jack remarked:
"Well, for a fact we don't know; but you remember we saw signs that even you declared proved what I'm saying—that some of those fellows have wandered as far as this."
"Yes, that's a fact. I'm not apt to forget it. Now, how many figures have you seen dodging along back there, just as if they didn't care to be seen—yet?"
"How about it, Wallace?" queried Jack, doubtfully.
"Two, anyhow; I'm sure of that," came the hesitating reply.
"Yes, at least two, Paul," the other echoed.
"And we are three. That's one reason why I don't see any reason for getting nervous over the discovery," observed the leader, his voice now apparently showing a trace of humor that was bubbling up near the surface.
"But where there are two there may be more, Paul?" objected Jack.
"Yes, possibly eight or ten more," went on the calm leader.
"Goodness! and you say there is no need of our worrying?" exclaimed Wallace.
"Yes, explain what you mean, old fellow. Eight or ten would give us a warm time don't you think?" demanded Wallace, gripping Paul's arm fiercely.
"Hardly, if they were all sound asleep around a dying campfire, dead to the world," quoth Paul, chuckling now.
But the others uttered low but vehement exclamations.
"Don't you see what he means, Wallace?" asked Jack.
"Sure. What a couple of fools you and I were," came the scathing reply.
"We've been followed by two of our own boys. They must have watched us crawl out of camp, and not wanting us to have all the fun, here they come creeping after us. What shall we do, Paul?" Jack queried in the other's ear; for the flitting figures were now very near.
"Open our arms and welcome the recruits. If they're just bound to join forces with us, why should we make any kick. I'm glad of it."
Then raising his voice a little, Paul continued:
"Hey! there!"
They could hear the murmur of voices. Evidently the two shadows were talking it over, and must have arrived at some quick conclusion, for presently same a hail.
"Hello! Paul, Jack!"
"It's Bobolink, for one," muttered Jack, immediately.
"Then it's a sure thing William is tagging along," said Wallace.
"Come on, both of you fellows. No danger!" called Paul, softly.
After that assurance the shadows boldly advanced, and quickly joined the three who stood under the spreading oak.
It proved just as Jack and Wallace had predicted, for the newcomers turned out to be William and Bobolink. They were chuckling, as though considering it a good joke.
"Thought you'd give us the quiet sneak, and gobble all the glory yourselves, hey?" said the latter, as they bustled up; "but William and myself had it all fixed. We were on to your curves, all right."
"Yes," broke in William, just there; "didn't we see you with your heads together a lot, and wasn't we wise to what was in the wind. Bobolink was awake, and it was my turn to snooze. He gave me a kick in the seventh rib that made me think a comet had dropped on me. But we showed up game. Now, what's doing, fellows; and do we get a grab at the scout?"
"If you both feel like trotting around a whole lot more, why you're just as welcome as a shower in spring," asserted Paul, promptly.
"I should say, yes," declared Jack; "and if the whole bunch could stand the racket we wouldn't have crept away like we did. But most of the poor fellows are all in, and dead tired, and we thought it would be a shame to invite them to hike some more."
"Did you bring your glim along?" asked Paul.
"Our lanterns? Well, William didn't want to, but I insisted. I knew that if we missed you fellows, and lost ourselves in the bush, they'd come in mighty fine for company," returned Bobolink.
"Then let's light up. After that we'll spread out, and try to find the trail," with which remark Paul set the example.
Presently five lanterns glowed like giant fireflies.
"Think it lies in this direction, Paul?" asked William.
"I'm sure of it. After that man's track came alongside the print of the little chap's shoe, there was no more wandering about; but it struck straight ahead. That told me the trail was heading for a house," came the ready reply.
"A house. Say, is there any other place up here but the old farm alongside the mill pond? I don't seem to remember any," remarked Bobolink.
"And that's just where I expect we'll bring up sooner or later," observed Paul.
"Then why not put for the old place at full speed right away?" suggested William, always impetuous.
"To do that we'd have to drop the trail again. And besides, what does an hour, or even two of them, matter in the end? Slow but sure is the successful scout's motto, boys. Hello I look here, what's this?"
Paul thrust his lantern down close to the ground. Bending over to look, the others could see the plain impression of a child's little shoe. It was heading due north, just as many similar tracks had been of late.
"Now if you look at this you'll see it's nearly crushed out by the big print of a man's foot; while just beyond the child has stepped into the impression made by the man. That can mean only one thing; the two were going on in company, and for a minute he let go the little one's hand, so that first the child was in front, and then behind."
"I guess you're right, Paul. But see here, what does this mean? The small track has dropped out altogether," remarked William.
"That is where the big fellow picks the boy up in his arms, and is carrying him," said Wallace, before Paul could answer.
"Right you are, that is just what happened. To tell the truth I don't know why he didn't do that before. He must have been toting some bundle along, and couldn't well carry the boy too. Come back a bit. I want to look around," and Paul retraced his steps until he had reached the spot where a confusion of tracks met his gaze.
He followed the man's trail a few paces, and found himself under a tree. Raising his lantern he carefully examined the bark of the trunk, and finding several fresh scratches, pursued his investigations still higher.
One accommodating limb grew rather low. In fact a man could, by reaching up his arms, clasp it easily; and that was what Paul believed had been done.
"Give me a push, somebody; and then hand up my lantern," he said, clasping his arms about the tree as well as he was able.
Ten seconds later William was handing him up the light; after which Paul began to ascend slowly, looking about him as though constantly on the watch for signs that would tell another had preceded him.
"All right; it's here. I'm coming down, fellows," he soon called out.
Reaching that friendly lower limb he held something in view.
"Take hold of this, Bobolink, and handle it carefully, because we don't know what's in the package. It might be dynamite!" he remarked.
"Oh! I hope not!" exclaimed the one in whose arms the bundle reposed; and he did not look any too happy at the prospect ahead.
"Don't be silly," said Paul, as he dropped beside them. "But whatever it may be, we might as well hide it in a new place. Then if the fellow should come back here to get it, he's going to meet with a disappointment, that's all."
"But what d'ye think it is?" argued the one who clasped the large package in his arms, though with evident reluctance.
"That is none of our business just now. It may be honest enough, and we'd get into a peck of trouble if we peeked. So let's just chuck it in some hollow stump as we go along, and muffle our trail behind us so he can't find where we put it. Later on I think I know some one who will be glad to look into what it contains."
"Perhaps I do too," remarked Jack; and the two chums looked at each other, with mutual astonishment marked on their faces.
"Oh!" remarked Paul, "are you on, too? Did he tell you the secret?"
"I happened to pick up an envelope he dropped, and wondered whose it was; so I went around, asking. He laughed when I came to him, and told me a little bit of news that surprised me. But Paul, he asked me not to breathe a word, even to you. That was a mean joke, when you knew all along," Jack complained.
"Remember the red car on the road, and the two men in it?"
"Oh! did they have anything to do with his coming up here? Yes, now that I think of it, you were pretty much excited over that same red car. You guessed something then, didn't you, Paul?"
"He had asked me to watch out for a red car with a khaki-colored top, that might have two men in it, one of them owning to a glass eye."
"Good gracious!" said Jack; "that tall chap did have a bogus eye, for a fact. And when you left me in town you hurried around to the post-office to find Mr. Pender, didn't you? I see it all now. He never came home for supper, as far as I know. I reckon he must have got a rig of some sort, and put out for the mill pond. But what about Solus Smithers—they asked after him, you know?"
Paul pointed to the marks on the ground.
"Unless I'm wrong those are his tracks. I noticed that he had big feet at the time he came out and ordered us to clear away from the pond, and threatened us with his gun. Yes, perhaps he got home to find visitors waiting for him," Paul observed, just as though he could read all these things from the trail.
"Then we go on, do we?" asked Bobolink, eagerly.
He had been listening to what passed between his two comrades, and while it was partly Greek to him, enough of the truth filtered through to give him a creepy sensation, as though cold water were being poured down his back.
Bobolink was no coward though, and while he shivered it was more through a delicious frame of mind over the chance of an adventure than because he felt fear.
"Straight on, as long as these lanterns hold out. I see yours has begun to flicker already, William. There, it's puffed out; and my own isn't near as strong a light as it was."
Paul seemed to be a true prophet, for inside of five minutes the lanterns "gave up the ghost," the last to expire being that of Jack.
"What's doing now?" demanded Jack.
"Gather up all the matches in the crowd. Then I'll strike them one by one," was Paul's immediate response.
This emergency torch lasted for a little while. Finally the last match was gone, and still they were some distance away from the mill pond.
"Listen," said William, suddenly; with a thrill in his voice; "whatever do you suppose that is?"
"Sure it wasn't an owl?" asked Paul, when a full minute had passed away, without their hearing a repetition of the sound that had reached the ears of his comrade.
"Didn't sound like it. I kind of thought it was somebody calling for help!" said Bobolink, quivering with the suspense caused by the situation.
They stood in a group, listening eagerly. The night wind stirred the tops of the tall forest trees softly, and even this gentle sound boomed on their strained nerves like the strokes of a bass drum.
"Oh! there! Didn't you hear it that time?" whispered Bobolink.
"I guess we did," replied Paul; "and you're right in saying it is somebody shouting. But all the same I don't feel sure it was a call for help. Let's remember, fellows, that Ted and his crowd must be somewhere about up here. And you know from past experiences what dodges he's up to when he wants to play a trick on anybody."
"Do you mean he'd like to draw us off by shouting that way, while some of his fellows went along to the farmhouse, and got the lost boy?" asked William.
"That would be just like Ted. He's as full of tricks as an egg is of meat," Jack took it upon himself to say at this juncture.
"Well, what are we going to do about it, boys?" asked Wallace.
"I leave it to Paul; whatever he says ought to be good enough for me," replied Wallace.
"And me," came from the others without hesitation.
"Thanks, fellows. I hope that my plan will prove the best after all. But don't blame me if I should make a mistake. Let's head for the road, which I take it ought to be somewhere over yonder," remarked Paul, pointing through the darkness.
"The road, eh? I see, you mean that once we get on that we'll have it easy all the way to the pond. That suits me all right. Count William in."
"Yes, seeing that our lanterns are out, and not a match in the crowd, I guess the sooner we get our feet planted on the highway, the better for our noses. I've barked mine already against a tree, and another dose will spoil my classic beauty," grunted Bobolink, rubbing tenderly at the spot in question.
"Then come along, the rest of you," said Paul, starting off.
"Seems to me it's getting lighter," announced Wallace, presently.
"Mebbe our eyes are used to it, that's what," Bobolink remarked.
"Mine are closing up right fast, I warn you, fellers," said William; "and before long it's going to be a case of the blind leading the blind. That branch took me across the face. Hey! ain't that the same old shout?"
"Sounds like it; but much nearer," returned Paul, with a vein of uncertainty in his voice, as if he might be commencing to doubt whether they were doing the right thing in paying no attention to the calls.
"Oh! I guess I know what it means," remarked Jack; "I've been trying to make it out all along. That's sure a different voice. Some of Ted's crowd have got separated, and they're just trying to get together again. You've heard quail calling, after being flushed and scattered. How, Paul?"
"Perhaps you've struck it, Jack. Anyway, we are on the road here, and had better push straight along to the pond first."
"Right enough," uttered Bobolink, as he broke through a cordon of brush, and jumped out on the highway, though it might be only an apology for a road after all, being scantily used; "and after that experience it's going to be something big that drags me into the woods again."
The little group stood there for a minute to recover their wind, which had been more or less exhausted in the last desperate push through the dark woods.
"Ready to move on, fellows?" demanded Paul, who had apparently not changed his mind, and was more than ever bent on covering the last lap lying between themselves and the pond.
Jack and Wallace fell in on either side, and the march was begun. Since the other pair did not wish to be left behind, they were forced to accompany themselves to the movements of the trio.
Thus they walked perhaps a full hundred yards along the winding road, with the stars showing overhead, and the black mysterious woods flanking them on either side.
The shouts had apparently ceased; at least none had been heard since the five lads reached open territory.
Again it was Bobolink who caught a sound of some sort.
"Tell me again I'm hearing owls, will you, fellows? If that ain't a gasoline wagon climbing a hill ahead there I'm off my guess," he whispered.
"Chug! chug!" came the plain sound, as the air current veered more toward the point toward which they were heading.
"I know that hill," Paul observed, as if talking to himself; "it's just this side of the mill pond. That means the car is coming this way. The two gentlemen are separating themselves from their dear friend, Solus Smithers. Why, I wonder? Would Mr. Pender have anything to do with it?"
"Wow! did you see that?" gasped Bobolink, proving that his plaint about his eyes closing up could hardly be based on solid ground.
"Somebody struck a match, and it went out! Whoever it is, he's on the road just ahead of us, fellows!" whispered Jack.
"Back up into the scrub here. Quick! for perhaps he's got another match!" said Paul, following up his words by instant action.
They managed to cower down in the brush, though Bobolink muttered something to the effect that he had received another jab in the neighborhood of his wretched eyes.
"Look! he's done it, Paul, just as you said he would!" whispered Jack.
"Yes, he's shielding it from the breeze till it gets strong. There—well, what d'ye think of that, fellers?" gasped William.
"It's Ted!" muttered Wallace, staring hard at the figure that seemed to be huddled up on the road a little distance away.
"What do you suppose the silly goose is doing on his knees?" came from Jack.
"He's found something, and he's looking at it. See, now he's managed to open it up. Seems to me like a leather bag, boys," Wallace managed to wedge in with.
"Just what it is, old cat eyes. A hand bag! Now, however did that thing happen to be lying there in the road? Nobody ever comes up here but Solus, and he isn't the one to own a bag like that."
"The red car," said Paul, as Jack seemed to hesitate.
"That's it, as sure as you live. Dropped out of the machine; and by jinks! the fellers are comin' back to look for it. Never missed it till Sol got home!" his chum declared.
All this talk between the five boy scouts was carried on in the lowest of whispers. The sound of their voices would not have carried twenty feet; and the kneeling Ted was several times that distance away.
Besides, he seemed to be so fascinated by what he had discovered in the leather grip that he had eyes and ears for nothing else just then.
"The motor is coming closer!" remarked Wallace, as the sound of the engine was borne more distinctly to their ears.
"Sure. She's just at the top of the rise, and now it's down-grade. Reckon she'll be here in a minute. Push back further, fellows."
"Look! Ted hears it now! He's jumped up! Seems like he just don't know what to do, cut and run with the bag, or wait till the car gets there. Hey! watch that, will you?" gasped William.
"He threw the bag as far as he could into the woods!" said Jack.
"That looks like he meant to try and keep it," suggested Jack; "I imagine that the leather grip holds something that took Ted's fancy. But all the same I reckon it isn't going to be easy sledding for him. Will he run, fellows?"
"He's debating that same question now; but it's too late. He waited just half a minute too long," Paul remarked, as a sudden flash of dazzling light shot around a bend a short distance ahead, and the red car with the khaki-colored top came into view, making fairly fast time.
They could dimly see the inmates apparently surveying the road ahead with the utmost eagerness, as though anxious to make a discovery. The loss of that bag must have rather upset their plans, and given them a jolt.
Every one of the five hidden scouts crouched low, so that their faces might not be discovered by that fierce white glow.
Plainly to their ears was borne the shouts of the men in the machine, as they discovered the figure of Ted on the road. The Stanhope bully had evidently made up his mind that the bag was well worth struggling for, and that he must make some sort of a fight to retain possession of it.
Paul could guess what his plan of operations would be. He had seen Ted play innocent more than once before, when caught in the act of doing some mean thing. And as a rule the fellow could carry out the game fairly well.
But he was up against a different proposition now; and these keen-eyed men were not apt to be hoodwinked so easily as a parcel of schoolboys.
Ted stood there, looking at the car that was bearing down upon him.
No doubt he had assumed the innocent air of a rustic, and tried to make himself appear as stupid as he could. The two men in the red car were no longer calling, for they had seen that the boy on the road showed no signs of wanting to run.
As they bore down upon the spot the car slowed up, and came to a full stop within a few yards of the waiting Ted. Every scout lying in the screen of bushes held his breath as he listened to catch what was going to follow.
"Say, gimme a ride, mister?"
That was Ted speaking, before either of the men could say the first word. Indeed they were too busy clambering out of the car to surround him, and cut off any chance of escape, to think of anything else.
Without answering they bore down on Ted, and he found himself confronted by two eager faces, while a rough hand clutched his arm.
"He ain't got it, Brad!" exclaimed the shorter of the pair, as though disappointed over something.
"Hey, what'd you do with it, son?" demanded the taller traveler, looking furiously at Ted, though pretending to speak gently.
"With what, boss? I ain't got nothin' that belongs to you, sure I ain't!" whimpered the boy; and Paul came near to chuckling at the way Ted put on the agony.
"We lost a leather bag out of the car. I saw it after we turned into this here twisting side road just back a piece. We've looked over every foot between here and the mill pond, and ain't seen it. I'm going to ask you again, son, what did you do with it?"
The man did not threaten, as yet, but there was something deep down in his voice that seemed to tell of all sorts of terrible things that might happen to the boy unless he came to time, and confessed.
But at any rate Ted was game. His covetous nature had been aroused by something he had glimpsed inside of that same bag; and he did not mean to give it up unless pushed to the last resort.
"Ain't seen no bag, mister, 'deed an' I ain't," he whimpered; "I got a lantern here, an' I was ahuntin' a little boy that was lost from home. Lots of other fellers in the woods adoin' that same. But my light give out. Then I struck this here road. I'm clean tired out, mister, and I'd like to get a ride home, if so be you're goin' my way. A bag, mister? Sure I ain't knowin' nawthin' about no bag. Cross my heart if I do. Gimme a ride to Stanhope, mister, please!"
The two men looked at each other.
Apparently they hardly knew whether to believe Ted or not. Paul saw them put their heads close together, as though exchanging confidences. Then the tall fellow once more whirled on Ted, who had been standing on one leg, with a most forlorn look upon his face.
"We both think that you lie, son," said the man who was minus one of his optics, as he thrust his face close down to that of Ted, as though he would look straight into his heart; but this was something that no one else had ever succeeded in doing, and the attempt did not prove very successful.
"Tell him who we are, Brad," growled the shorter of the twain, who looked angry enough to devour the unfortunate Ted.
So the one called Brad took something out of his coat pocket that made a peculiar jingling noise, and held it up before the boy.
"D'ye see them, son? We call 'em bracelets, and they're meant to go on the wrists of criminals. D'ye understand now? We're officers of the law, and we've just made a grand haul. But some of the evidence has slipped away from us. It's in that same bag you picked up on this here road. Now, don't you dare deny it again, or we'll take you into town with these pretty toys clasped on your wrists. I'm going to give you another chance to tell us, son. Where did you put that bag?"
Ted winced and whined. He showed all the signs of injured innocence. Surely he must have made up his mind quickly that the contents of the bag were well worth taking all sorts of chances for.
"Ain't seen no bag. Sure I'd be on'y too glad to tell you, mister, if I had. All I wants to do is to go home. I'm tired, an' nigh sick with all this huntin' for that kid," he whimpered.
The man suddenly pounced on him, and despite Ted's struggles and entreaties, he seemed to succeed in accomplishing his purpose. At any rate the concealed scouts heard a snap; and when Ted reeled back he was holding his two hands close together in a suspicious way, and staring at something that seemed to be in the nature of a connecting link.
"Now you are in for it," said the tall man, shaking his head threateningly as he stood over the prisoner; "we'll have to take you to town, and put you in the lockup as an accessory after the fact. D'ye hear that, you young fool? And all because you refuse to help honest officers of the law in their legitimate business. Why, you may get ten years at hard labor, yes, twenty. Better tell all you know, and perhaps we'll let you off."
"You can do anything you like to me, mister, but I ain't agoin' to say what I don't know. Ain't seen any bag of no kind. Cross my heart if I have. I'm willin' to help you hunt for it, even if I am dog tired. Don't you believe me, mister? Sure, I wouldn't lie to you. What would I be wantin' with a bag; we got plenty at my house. Ted Slavin's my name, and I live in Stanhope. Gimme a ride, mister, if you're goin' that way, won't you?"
Again the two men talked together, while Ted watched them out of the corner of his eye. He might even have tried to run but the fact that his hands were fastened together with that steel chain prevented such a thing.
Once more they turned upon him, and the tall man pointing down, thundered:
"You've been kneeling in the dirt!"
Ted glanced down at his trousers involuntarily; but even then he was not taken off his guard.
"I fell ever so many times after my lantern went out. See here, mister, how I scraped the skin off my hand. That's the honest truth I'm givin' you!" he cried.
Undoubtedly it was, but all the same the men showed no signs of yielding.
The taller one, called Brad by his companion, deliberately detached one of the lamps from the car. With this he bent down to examine the road.
"He'll see the marks of the bag!" whispered Bobolink to Paul.
"Watch him while I scurry along the road a bit, to see if he left it," was what the man said, and then moved down toward the spot where the five boys lay in hiding.
When he came opposite them they hardly dared to breathe, lest his keen ears catch the sound, and he pounce upon them.
But he went past, scouring the road closely, and looking for some sign of the missing bag. They saw him pass on, and the light grew dim. Meanwhile Ted sat down on a log, and seemed to be very dejected and forlorn. Once or twice when the shorter man was not looking Paul saw him glance around, as though sizing up the chances for a sudden plunge into the forest.
"He's coming again," said Bobolink; and the brilliant glow from down the road bore evidence of the truth of this remark which was whispered in Paul's ear.
Brad walked hastily back, and soon rejoined his companion, with whom he talked earnestly for a minute.
"Get up!" he said, turning to Ted, and giving the boy a kick that made him climb to his feet hurriedly, groaning with pain.
"Bring him along into the woods, Wash!" the tall man continued, turning aside.
"Oh! what are you goin' to do?" cried Ted, in real or pretended terror, as he caught hold of the man's coat, and sought to hold him back.
"You'll find out right soon, son. Before we're done with you perhaps you'll wish you'd told us about that ere bag us the beginning. We're just going to make it warm for a feller of your size. This night air has made you too cold to speak up; but we'll fix all that, I reckon; we know how to do it, don't we, Wash?"
"Do we? Well, I should smile we did. But they's no need of our goin' far, old man. This here is a right smart tree, and looks like it might answer. 'Sides, they seems to be lots o' loose wood lyin' 'bout this part!"
Paul felt a chill pass over him. Could it be possible these rascals meant to torture Ted until he told; or were they just trying to frighten him? If it came to the worst they just could not stand by and see such a thing done.
Ted, of course, was considerably worked up when he heard what the shorter fellow said. It was so very plain he could not mistake the meaning.
"Say, mister, you wouldn't go to hurt a poor feller what never done you no harm, now, would you? Wish I on'y knowed where I could find a bag; I'd get it for you like hot cakes. Please don't smoke me. I ain't a ham, mister, an' I never done you any harm. Let me go, won't you? I'll never come up here again, sure I won't. And I'll promise to bring you all the bags in our house, mister."
Paying no attention to his pleadings and his groanings the men stood Ted up against a tree. Then the rope brought from the car was wrapped around both boy and tree several times.
"Get busy, Wash, and scrape up all the dead leaves you can find. Then begin and pile up some brush and stuff. Oh! yes, it's a cold night, but we ain't agoin' to let a poor critter what's lost his way, suffer. Here you, stop that snifflin'. Time enough to beller after it begins to hurt."
He struck Ted again in the face, making his nose bleed. Paul had crept out from the brush and commenced to approach the spot. He knew that the other four scouts were probably close on his heels.
Every boy's heart beat like a trip hammer with excitement. They bit their lower lips to keep from shouting out loud, such was the strain upon them. But not one had the least thought of turning back. With such a leader, how could they?
The shorter ruffian was scratching right merrily among the dead leaves, making all the noise he could, so as to impress the prisoner with a sense of his perilous condition. While he worked he kept talking, half to himself, and no doubt uttering all sorts of terrible threats calculated further to alarm the boy.
"We forgot one thing, Wash," said the other man, suddenly.
"What was that?" asked the one on his knees.
"To search the varmint. I might as well do it right now, while you go on getting his jacket warmer ready."
At first Ted tried to make all the resistance possible; but this only brought quick punishment in the shape of ugly blows and threats. So Ted had to stand and allow the other to have his way.
A minute later the man uttered a loud cry.
"Look here, Wash, what did I say?"
He was holding something up. Seen in the light from the lamp belonging to the red car it looked very much like a fat wad of greenbacks, tied together with a cord.
Wash sprang up, and bent over to examine the object in the light. Then he laughed harshly.
"It's the boodle, all right, Brad. He found the bag, sure as thunder! And now he'sgotto tell, or it's all up with him!"
Both men turned furiously on the bound boy. Ted had held out against all odds up to this critical point; but of course he must admit himself beaten, now that they had found the evidence in his pocket.
Nearer crept Paul, with his chums tagging close at his heels. And nobody thought to look beyond the line of brilliant light cast by the lamp which rested on the ground at the foot of the tree. Fortunately its powerful rays were directed away from the quarter occupied by the creeping Boy Scouts.
"Now, I reckon you're agoin' to tell all you know about that ere bag, son?" said Brad, in a terrible voice.
"I guess I'll have to, mister. I was just holdin' out to see if so be you was what you says. Now I know you be, and I'm ready to tell the hull thing if you'll only let me go free. I don't want to be smoked, just yet anyway," Ted whined.
"You did find the bag, then?" demanded the other.
"Yep, that's what I did."
"And took this wad of dough out of it?" pursued the other, savagely.
"It looked too nice to throw away, so I cabbaged it, mister. Wisht I hadn't now."
"What became of the bag after you took this out—go on, now, and tell, or—"
"Oh! I throwed that away, mister, right over here in the woods somewhere. If you look around you'll find her close by. Please let me go when you dig her out!" said Ted, really alarmed now for his safety.