It was with extreme caution that the two motor-boats crept along the shore of the island, with numerous eyes on the lookout for a good landing place.
"Seems to be plenty of water right here," remarked Jud, who was sounding with one of the poles. "Eight feet, if an inch, Paul."
Paul shut off the power immediately.
"And this looks like the best sort of place to make our landing," he said. "If we don't like it, or find a better for a permanent camp in the morning, we can change. Get busy with the poles, fellows, and shove the boat alongside that bank there."
This was readily done, and Jud was the first to jump ashore. He wanted to be able to say that of the whole troop he had landed before any one else, ghost or no ghost.
Soon the others followed suit, even if Joe and Little Billie—and yes, Gusty Bellows also looked timidly around. There was Nuthin, always reckoned a rather timorous chap, showing himself indifferent to spirits, and all such things. What bothered Nuthin concerned material things, like cats, and dogs, and wandering bears; he snapped his fingers at spooks, because he had never seen one, and did not believe in "fairy stories," as he called them, anyway.
As the second boat came alongside, and her crew swarmed over the side, there were plenty of hands to do things, though they naturally looked to Paul for orders.
"A fire, first, fellows!" called out the scout master; "so we can see what we're doing. Because it's getting pretty dark around here, with these trees overhead. Jud, you take charge of that part, and the rest gather wood."
Many hands make light work, and in what Bobolink called a "jiffy" there came plenty of wood of all kinds, from dead branches to small-sized logs.
Jud, like every true scout, knew just how to go about starting a fire. True, the recent rain had wet pretty much all of the wood, so that a tenderfoot would have had a difficult task getting the blaze started, though after that trouble had been surmounted it would not be so bad. But Jud knew just how to split open a log, and find the dry heart that would take fire easily; and in a brief time he had his blaze springing up.
Then others began to bring some of the things ashore, particularly the tents, in which they expected to sleep during their stay.
Most of the boys were deeply impressed by the size of both the lake and the island; since they had not dreamed that things would be upon such a large scale.
Then there was that strange silence, broken only by the constant murmur of the water passing out, where the Radway River had its source; and perhaps, when a dry spell lowered the water of the lake, even this might not be heard.
It seemed to some of the scouts as though they were isolated from all the rest of the world, marooned in a desolate region, and with many miles between themselves and other human beings.
However, when the white tents began to go up, as the several squads of workers took hold in earnest, things began to look more cheerful. There is nothing that chases away the "blues" quicker than a cheerful fire, and the sight of "homey" tents.
"In the morning, if we feel like it, we can put up a flagstaff in front, and fly not only our banner, but Old Glory as well," Paul observed. "And now, suppose some of you fellows give me a hand here."
"What you going to do, Paul?" asked Old Dan Tucker, eagerly.
"Begin to get supper," came the answer.
"I'll give you a hand there," said the other.
"Me too," said Nat Smith, who was a clever cook.
And when the odor of coffee began to steal through the camp, the boys felt amply repaid for all they had undergone in the rough trip from Stanhope. They sniffed the air, and smiled, and seemed ready to declare the expedition a great success.
More than that, the cooks being blessed with healthy appetites themselves, had cut generous slices from one of the fine hams, and these were also on the fire, sizzling away at a great rate, and throwing off the most tempting odors imaginable.
It was a happy sight about that time, and showed the best side of camp life. All of the boys belonging to the Red Fox Patrol at least, had been through the mill before, and knew that there was another side to the picture; when the rain descended, and the wind blew with hurricane force, possibly tearing the canvas out of their hands, and leaving them exposed to the storm, to be soaked through.
But of course they hoped nothing of that sort was going to happen to them on this trip. Once a year ought to be enough.
If the season of preparation was delightful, what shall be said of that time when the eighteen boys sat around in favorite attitudes, each with a cup of steaming coffee beside him, to which he could add sugar and condensed milk to suit his taste; while on his knees he held a generous-sized tin pannikin, upon which was heaped a mess of friend potatoes and ham, besides all the bread he could dispose of?
"This is the stuff; it's what I call living!" Bobolink remarked.
"You never said truer words." mumbled Old Dan Tucker, who was about as busy as a beaver, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction.
"One thing sure!" declared Spider; "when Dan stops eating, he'll quit living."
"Huh! guess all of us will," added Curly Baxter.
They were in no hurry to finish the feast; and when the end did arrive, it would take a microscope to discover any crumbs left over.
"The worst is yet to come," announced Jud, "and that's washing up."
But all these things had been arranged for beforehand, so that in due course of time every fellow would have his share of camp duties. Today he might have to assist in the cooking; tomorrow help wash dishes; the next day be one of the wood-getters; and then perhaps on the fourth blissful day, he would be at liberty to just loaf!
And no doubt that last day was the one most of them would be apt to enjoy above all else; for otherwise they would hardly have been flesh and blood boys.
While those whose duty lay in cleaning up after the meal were engaged, some of the others joined Paul in bringing the blankets ashore, and distributing them to the various tents.
There were three of the latter, which would allow of six boys to each, perhaps a rather "full house"—but then they could curl up and not take much room.
"Aren't we going to keep any watch, Paul?" asked Joe Clausin, when later on some of the more tired talked of turning in.
"Watch for what?" demanded Bobolink.
"Guess Joe thinks Ted Slavin and his crowd might get over here, and throw stones at our tents, like they did once before," suggested Nuthin.
"Well, they do say there's a wild man around here," declared Joe, in a half hesitating way; for he was actually ashamed to expose his belief in supernatural things for fear of being laughed at.
"Let Mr. Wild Man come around; who cares?" sang out Bobolink. "Why, the circuses are always wantin' wild men, you know; and I guess we'd get a pretty hefty sum now, if we could capture this wonderful critter that's been living here so long covered with the skins of wild beasts he's ate up. It's me to hit the rubber pillow I fetched along. And Joe, if you want to watch, nobody is going to keep you from doing it"
And with these words Bobolink dodged into the tent that he knew his mess belonged to; in which action he was followed by numerous other scouts. Joe, finding himself left in the lurch, cast a fearful glance around at the heavy growth of timber on one side the camp, the lake being on the other; after which he shook his head as though the prospect of sitting there by the dying fire did not appeal very much to him—and crawled under the flap, too.
Perhaps it could hardly be said that silence rested on the scene; for with a dozen and a half boys trying to get to sleep there is always more or less horseplay. But an hour later, something like quiet settled down. The fire was dying out, too, since they had no reason for keeping it going, the night air being balmy.
Midnight came and went, and it must have been toward two o'clock in the morning when every boy suddenly sat upright, as though a galvanic shock had passed in and out of every tent.
So it had, for the very earth trembled under them, as a terrific detonation sounded, just as though a bolt of lightning had struck a nearby tree. And some of the scouts were ready to declare that the shock had been accompanied by a brilliant electric flash, that almost blinded them.
Immediately there began to be an upheaval, as blankets were tossed aside and the scouts crawled or scrambled from under, uttering all sorts of exclamations, and apparently too dazed to account for the phenomenon.
They began to swarm out of the tents, and loud were the outcries of astonishment when they discovered not a cloud as big as a hand in the starry heavens.
"Who hit me?" exclaimed Bobolink, rubbing his eyes as he gained his feet and looked around at the dimly-seen forms of the other scouts; for the moon had by now sunk behind the horizon.
"What busted?" demanded Nuthin. "I bet it was that bottle of raspberry vinegar my sister put in my knapsack. It's gone sour, and exploded, sure as anything."
Strange to say, none of the others even bothered laughing at such a foolish remark as this. They stared at the clear sky overhead, and the twinkling stars looking down upon them, just as though winking to each other, and enjoying the confusion of the valiant scouts.
Even Paul, who generally knew everything, seemed mystified.
"I declare if I can tell what it was," he said upon being appealed to by some of the others in the group. "I was sound asleep, like the rest of you, when all of a sudden it seemed as if the end of the world had come. I felt the ground shake under me and as I opened my eyes it seemed as if I was nearly blinded. The flash came and went just like lightning, and that bang was what would pass for thunder in a storm; but for the life of me I can't see any sign of trouble up there."
"And we don't hear anything more; do we?" demanded Jud.
"Sounded like a big cannon to me," remarked Jack.
"Couldn't be that the State troops are out, and having manoeuvres, with a sham battle, could it?" questioned Gusty Bellows.
"Well, hardly, without somebody knowing about it. And they generally take up that sort of thing later in the year. There's only one explanation that sounds a bit reasonable to me," Paul went on.
"Tell us what that is, then?" asked Bobolink.
"I've heard about meteors falling, and exploding when they hit the earth," the scout master went on to say.
"That's right!" echoed Jack; "and say, they're always accompanied by a dazzling light, as they shoot through space, burning the air along with them. Yes, siree, that must have been a big meteor stone."
"Then it struck the earth right close to our camp, mark me," vowed Jud.
"Ain't I glad it didn't pick out this spot to drop on," crowed Nuthin. "Whew! guess we'd have been squashed flatter than that pancake you hear about."
"What are meteors made up of—they drop from stars; don't they?" asked Bob Tice.
"Oh! there's just millions and billions of 'em flying around loose," said Phil Towns, who liked to read of astronomy at times. "Lots of 'em happen to get caught in the envelope of air that surrounds the earth. Then they fall victims to the force of gravitation, and come plunging down at such speed that they do really burn the air, just like Jack said. You see, they're made up for the most part of metals, and our old earth draws 'em like a monster magnet."
"Is that what shooting stars are?" Bob went on to ask.
"Why, yes, they're really small meteors. We often pass through a mess of 'em. I've counted hundreds in a single night," Phil continued, always willing to give any information he could along his favorite study.
"Well, they say lightning don't strike in the same place twice; and that goes with your old buzzing meteors too, I reckon; so what's the use in our staying up any longer?" remarked Bobolink, who seemed quite satisfied with the explanation Paul had given of the queer noise, and the flash of brilliant light.
So they crawled back into their snug nests, and tried to compose themselves for sleep. But it is extremely doubtful whether a single one of those eighteen boys secured so much as a decent cat-nap between that hour and dawn.
Despite their apparent belief in the explanation of the phenomenon advanced by Paul, the boys could not get rid of the notion that that tremendous crash had something to do with the strange things told about the haunted island, and which helped to give it its bad name.
They were up pretty early, too. The first birds were beginning to chirp in the brush when figures came crawling out of the tents, with a great stretching of arms, and long yawns.
Then the lake tempted many of the boys, and a great splashing announced that those who could swim were enjoying a morning dip while others were taking a lesson in learning the first rudiments in the art; for Paul wanted every scout in Stanhope Troop to be able to swim and dive before the Fall came on.
The scout master himself watched the proceedings, hardly able to get his own dip because of his anxiety concerning those who, for the time being, had been placed in his charge.
This thing of being responsible for seventeen lively boys is not all that it may be cracked up to be; especially if the acting scout master is a conscientious chap, alive to his duties. Paul felt the weight of the load; but he did not shrink.
Breakfast was presently under way, and nobody found any fault when Bobolink announced that he meant to instruct Nat Smith and another boy just how to go about making those delicious flapjacks for which he himself had become famous.
In the cooking contests, at the time the Stanhope Troop carried off their banner in competition with the troops of Manchester and Aldine, Bobolink had easily outclassed all rivals when it came to the science of camp cookery, and his flapjacks were admitted without a peer, so that ever since, when the boys had an outing, there was always a shout when it was found that Bobolink was willing to get a mess of cakes ready for their attention.
Although most of the boys had looked a bit peaked, and even haggard, when they first issued from the tents, this had long since vanished. The frolic in the cool water, and now this feast in the open, proved the finest tonics possible.
They were now filled with new energy and pluck. Nobody dreamed of being frightened away from camp by such a little thing as a meteor bursting near by, or any other strange happening. Perhaps, when night came around again, this buoyant feeling might take wings, and fly away; but then, there would be fourteen and more hours before darkness again assailed them, and what was the use fretting over things so far removed?
All had made up their minds to do a lot of things while up at camp, according to their various tastes. One began to look around for subjects he could take snapshots of, having a liking for photography. Another got a companion to take up a station along the shore, so that they could exchange messages, using the flags and the code.
Then there were several who evinced a decided interest in finding the tracks of wild animals, like a raccoon, or a rabbit, or even a squirrel, when nothing better presented itself. These they minutely examined, and applied all sorts of theories in forming the story of the trail. In many cases these proved very entertaining indeed, and Paul was always pleased, with Jack's assistance, to pass on such things, being adapted through practical experience to correct errors, and set the beginner straight on certain facts that he had mixed.
There were numerous other things to do also. One boy loved to hunt wild flowers, and as soon as he could coax a mate to accompany him, since Paul would not allow the scouts to go off alone, he busied himself in the undergrowth, looking in mossy spots for some of the shy blossoms that appealed to his collecting taste.
Another seemed to have a love for geology. He wanted to find specimens of every sort of stone, and hinted of certain stories of mining having been carried on in these regions a century or two ago. But as he did not find any ore that contained precious minerals in paying quantities, during their stay on Cedar Island, the chances are that his father will still have to go right along paying his bills, even after he gets into college later in life.
The morning was slipping away fast, and they had not found any better place to settle on for a camp. It seemed that, by the merest chance, they had hit upon the best spot for a short stay on the island.
Three of the boys wandered along the shore, fishing. Paul had seen them pull in several good-sized bass, and began to make up his mind that after all they were going to have a fish dinner, if the luck held. He was even debating whether he dared leave camp for a while, and taking his jointed rod, joined the trio who had wandered around the bend of the eastern shore of the island; for Paul certainly did love to feel a lively fish at the end of his line, and could not think of leaving Lake Tokala without giving its finny inhabitants a chance to get acquainted with him.
Just as he had about decided that he could be spared for the hour that still remained until noon, Paul thought he heard a shout. Now, the scouts had more than a few times given tongue during the morning, when engaged in some boisterous game; but it struck Paul, whose nerves were always on the alert for such things, while this responsibility rested on his shoulders, that there was certainly a note, as of alarm, about this particular outcry.
It seemed to come from around that bend, too, where he had seen the three boys disappear. Even as he looked in that direction, he saw something come in sight among the rocks that lay so thickly around. It was Gusty Bellows, one of the anglers; yes, and there was Little Billie just behind him, taking great leaps that promised to speedily leave the other far in the lurch.
Paul's heart seemed to stand still. Where was Jud, who had been in the company of the two? What could have happened?
The scout master dropped his rod, which he had been in the act of jointing, and started on a run to meet the two fishermen; for he could hear them shouting, though unable to distinguish just what they were saying.
Then Paul felt a sensation of sudden relief pass over him. He had discovered a third figure running, some distance in the rear of the other scouts; and when he recognized this as Jud Elderkin, he knew that whatever might have happened to frighten the fishermen, at least none of them seemed to be in any immediate danger.
Of course, by this time scouts were springing up all around, and all heading toward the common centre, which would be where Paul and the fishermen must meet.
Little Billie was the first one to arrive, for, being possessed of long legs, in spite of his name, he could get over ground at a prodigious rate, given cause. And judging from his ashen face, he had plenty of that right now.
"What is it?" demanded Paul, as the other came panting along.
"Wild man!" gasped Little Billie.
"Whee!" exclaimed Bobolink, who had managed to get near enough to catch what was said.
"'Fraid he nabbed poor Jud!" said Gusty, now reaching the spot, and just about at his last gasp.
"Not much he didn't, because there he comes now!" ejaculated Bobolink.
"Oh! mercy!" exclaimed Little Billie, evidently thinking he meant the wild man.
"It's Jud, and all to the good; but even he looks white around the gills, too, Paul. They must have seensomething, to give 'em all such a scare," Bobolink went on to say.
"You just bet we did; ask Jud!" declared Gusty, just as though he imagined the others might question their veracity, but would believe the patrol leader, who was now coming along with great leaps and bounds.
And presently Jud Elderkin halted at the group. He looked first at Gusty, and then at Little Billie. There was a question in his eye.
"Sure, we saw it, too, Jud!" declared Gusty, holding up his quivering hand just as though he were in the witness box; but then, as his father was a lawyer, possibly Gusty often experimented on himself, since he meant to either take up the same pursuit in life, or give his magnificent voice a chance to earn him a living in the role of an auctioneer.
"Me too; and say, wasn't it a terror, though?" the tall scout declared.
"Well, I didn't wait long enough to have any words with the Thing," admitted Jud. "You see, I happened to be further away from home than the other fellows, and I knew I'd have more space to cover. So, after letting out a yell to sort of warn 'em, why I just put for cover. Never ran faster even between bases. Thought he'd get me sure before I rounded that bend; but when I looked back, blessed if he wasn't grabbin' up our strings of fish like fun, and making off with 'em. I don't know right now whether I'm just scared, or only boiling mad. Tell me, somebody!"
"A little of both, I guess!" declared Bobolink, grinning.
"Say, then, it wasn't just a big yarn about that wild man, after all; was it?" said Tom Betts.
"How about that, Little Billie; did you see him?" demanded Jud.
"Did I? Think I was runnin' for my health? Why, he looked all of seven feet high to me, and covered with long hair. Talk about your Robinson Crusoe making him a coat of an old nanny goat, that feller was in the same class; eh, Gusty?" loudly asserted the tall boy.
"I saw him, all right, don't you forget it," declared the one addressed. "And I certain sure thought he was afterme. But if Jud says he took our nice string of bass, why that changes the thing, and makes me mad as hops. Think of us workin' all that time, only to fill up a crazy crank. Next time I go fishin' I'm meanin' to sit home, and do it off the door step."
Paul was revolving many things in his mind and trying to understand.
"I want several of you to go back with me," he said, presently; "the rest head for camp or go about whatever you were doing."
"Want to take a squint at his tracks; eh, Paul?" asked Jud.
"No harm done if we do," remarked Bobolink, thus declaring his intention of being one of those who were to accompany the leader.
Jack also went along, and Jud, making four in all; but the last mentioned refused to budge a foot until he had obtained a healthy-looking club, which he tucked under his arm.
"Now, I want to warn that same critter to keep his distance from me," Jud said, as he led off with long strides. "He gave me one scare, and I promise you that if he tries that game again there's going to be a warm time around these regions. But I reckon he's satisfied with all our nice fish, and we won't see anything of him until he gets good and hungry again. Wonder if he eats 'em raw, Chinese fashion, or has some way of making a fire?"
"What's that over yonder?" asked Paul.
"Where?" gasped Jud, brandishing his club.
"Looks like a string of fish; and so, you see, the wild man didn't getallyou fellows caught. We'll just pick that lot up, and trot along," observed Paul.
"He got mine, all right; these must have been what one of the other fellows had. You see, they were so badly rattled they just cut and run, and held on to their rods only. Yep, there's a second string of fish, and that accounts for both; but you needn't think mine'll be laying around, for he got 'em.
"Well, show me just about where he was when you saw him last,"Paul demanded.
Jud could easily do this. They found the print of human feet in the earth. It must have been an unusually large foot that made the marks; and this tallied with what had been said about the height of the wild man.
"You're not goin' to try and follow him, I hope, Paul?" asked Jud, uneasily, as if he drew the line at certain things, ready and willing as he might be to back the scout master in most ventures.
"Oh! it wouldn't pay us," retorted Paul. "As one of the boys said, we haven't lost any wild man; and so far as I know there's no one missing around Stanhope, so it can't be some man from there. I think we'd do well to mind our own business in this affair; don't you, fellows?"
"Yes, I do," replied Jack, "but I was wondering whether this thing will crop up to give us a heap of bother while we're camping up here."
"How's that?" asked Bobolink. "There's only one thing that gives me any carking care, and you know what that is, Jack, old boy. If I only knew about those boxes, I'd be so much easier in my mind."
"Well," said Paul, "if this crazy man would steal our fish, he'd just as lief take anything else we've got that's good to eat. When he smells our coffee cooking it'll call up some long-forgotten craving for the Java bean; and first thing you know he'll be invading our camp every night, hunting around for any old thing he can steal."
"Now, I like that," said Bobolink, satirically. "Nice prospect, ain't it, not to be able to step out of the tent of nights, without bumping noses with that awful Man Friday in wild animal shows? P'raps in self-defense we may have to do that grand capture act after all, Paul."
"Well, there's nothing more to learn here, so we might as well turn back again. As I don't see anything of your string of fish, Jud, I calculate that he must have gotten away with 'em. We can add a few more to these, and have enough for a regular feast. Come on, boys, back to camp for us."
Some way or other it was noticed that during the early afternoon most of the boys hung around the camp. It seemed to have an especial attraction for them all. One busied himself sorting over the collection of the morning in the way of plants. A second was polishing up certain specimens of quartz he had found, after cracking some of the round stones that had washed on the island during a flood, possibly many years back. A third developed his pictures, having brought along his daylight tank.
And so it went, until Paul smiled to observe what a busy colony he had in his charge. On his part, he took a rod and line, with some bait, and went off with Jack to add to the number of fish, so that there would be enough for all at supper time. And as the others had fished in one direction, Paul and his chum decided to move in the other.
They put in an hour with very fair success, considering that it was not the best part of the day for fishing.
Of course, as they walked along, keeping close to one another, occasionally Paul and Jack would chat on various subjects. They also kept their eyes open, not wishing to be taken by surprise, should that hairy individual, who seemed to have a craving for fish, rush out at them.
And more than that, Paul had copied the example set by Jud. It was fashionable about that time not to walk forth without a nice little Irish shillelah under one's arm, with which a head could be made to sing unmercifully, in case of necessity.
Paul had just had a pretty lively time with a good fish, and had succeeded in bringing his prize to land, when he happened to look down at the beach on which he was standing. Bobolink and Tom Betts were coming along, as though curious to see how fast the stock of provisions for supper was increasing.
So Paul bent down to examine something that had caught his attention. The other three coming up, Jack having joined Bobolink and Tom, found the scout master still on his hands and knees.
"Hello! found something, have you?" asked Bobolink.
"Mebbe the footprints of the ghost!" chuckled Tom, meaning to be humorous.
But Jack saw that his chum was very serious; and as he dropped down beside Paul, he let his eyes fall upon the sand.
"What's this, Paul?" he remarked, immediately. "Looks like the prow of a rowboat had been pulled up here—why, that's a dead certainty, because look at the plain prints of boots here, and several different kinds, too. Shows that somebody landed here on the island; and Paul, it must have beenafterthat rain storm, for these marks don't seem to be washed, as they would be if the rain had beat down on them. What in the world d'ye suppose it means? Are there people on this queer old Cedar Island? If there are, who can they be, and why should they hide from everybody like this?"
As Jack said this he looked up. Bobolink and Tom were staring at the plain marks in the sand, with wonderment written on their faces; and even Paul shook his head.
"We'll have to look into this thing," said Paul, finally, seeing that his three chums were waiting for an opinion from the one they looked up to as their leader.
"But what I said was pretty close to the truth; wasn't it, Paul?"Jack asked.
"Every word of it" came the ready response, for Paul was always willing to give every fellow his meed of praise. "The only trouble is, it stops right where you left off. None of us can say a word after that."
"How many men were there in the crowd?" asked Tom Betts.
"I could make out four," replied Jack; "you take another look, Paul, and see if that's correct."
"I know it is," remarked the scout master, nodding, "because I counted them before I called you. And they seemed to lift something heavy from the boat, which they carried away into the bushes here."
"Whee! something heavy, eh?" burst out the impetuous Bobolink; "and they carried it between them, two and two; was it, Paul?"
"Why, yes, two on each side; if you look close, you can see where they stepped into each other's footprints," assented the patrol leader.
"That's so," agreed Bobolink, after bending down hastily; "just like—er—you've seen the pall-bearers at a funeral!"
"Oh!" exclaimed Tom, turning a little white at the idea.
"Of course, that isn't saying itwasa funeral," remarked Bobolink, hastily, as he noticed that Paul glanced at Jack, and the two shook their heads a trifle, as though the idea failed to impress them favorably. "But whatever it was, they seemed to find it heavy, the way their toes dug into the sand here."
"Yes, it was heavy, all right," admitted Paul. "I think, from the way the rear men stepped into the prints of the one up head, that whatever they were carrying could not have been very lengthy; in fact, it must have been short, but rather broad."
"Well, that's a smart idea of yours, Paul, and I c'n see how you hit on it," Bobolink was quick to say, with a look of sincere admiration.
"But whatever do you reckon would bring four men up here to this lonely island, carrying some heavy object in a rowboat?" Tom Betts went on.
"That's where we have to do our guessing," Paul replied. "We don't know; and as they haven't been obliging enough to write it out, and fasten the card to a tree, why, we've just got to put on our thinking caps, as my mother would say."
"Well, we've had some experience in the past with hoboes; think they could be a batch of Weary Willies, Paul?" remarked Tom Betts.
"I'm not ready to say off-hand that they're not," replied the other, slowly; "but it hardly seems likely. In the first place, every one of them seemed to be wearing sound shoes. Did you ever know four tramps to do that?"
"Well, I should say not," replied Bobolink, scornfully. "It'd be a wonder if one out of four had shoes that'd hold on without a lot of rope. You clinched that idea the first thing, Paul."
"Then what'd you say they were?" demanded Tom.
Bobolink rubbed his chin reflectively.
"A heap of difference between plain tramps, and the kind they call yeggs; isn't there, Paul?" he asked, presently.
"Everybody says so," came the answer. "Yegg-men are supposed to be the toughest members of the tramp tribe. They're really burglars or safe-blowers, who pretend to be hoboes so they can prowl around country towns, looking up easy snaps about the banks and stores that ought to be good picking. And so you think these four men might belong to that crowd, do you, Bobolink?"
"It's barely possible, anyhow," the one addressed went on, doggedly. "And I was just trying to remember if I'd heard of any robbery lately. There was a store broke into over at Marshall two weeks ago, and the thieves carried off a lot of stuff. But seems to me, the men got nabbed later on. I'm a little hazy about it, though. But supposin' now, that these four men had made a rich haul somewhere, and wanted to hide their stuff in a good place, could they find a better one than up here on Cedar Island?"
The other three exchanged glances.
"I guess that's about right," admitted Tom.
"It's certainly quiet enough to suit anybody; and chances are they wouldn't be disturbed in a coon's age," declared Jack. "Our coming here was a freak. It mightn't happen again in many years."
"And this old island's already got a bad name; hasn't it?"Bobolink went on.
"That would help keep people away," admitted Paul. "I've heard of men coming up in this region winters, trapping the muskrats that swarm in the marshes; but up to cranberry picking time it's almost deserted."
"Jack, you must have had an idea, too?" remarked Bobolink.
"Well, I did; but perhaps the rest of you'll only give me the laugh if I mention it," replied Jack.
"All the same, it isn't fair to keep anything back," Tom declared. "My guess didn't pan out much, and you couldn't have worse luck than that. So tell us."
"Yes, go on, Jack, and give us the benefit of your think-box. I've known you to get away up head more'n a few times, when it came to a live race. And mebbe some of the rest of us mightn't think so badly of your idea as you do yourself," and as he said this Bobolink sat down on the sand to listen, all the while eyeing those mysterious tracks as though he half expected them to give tongue, and tell the true story of their origin.
"Oh! well, that seems only fair, so here goes," Jack began. "Somehow I happened to remember that once on a time I read about some counterfeiters who had their nest in an old haunted mill, away up in the country."
"Whee!" Bobolink said, sitting bolt upright.
"None of the country people would ever go near the place, you see; and when a light happened to be seen in it at night time, they talked about the ghost walking, and all that," Jack continued.
"Huh! that must have been when the boss was paying off his hands," chuckled Bobolink. "I always heard that was the time the ghost walked."
"In this case the truth was only found out by some accident," Jack went on to say, without paying any heed to the interruption. "I think a hunter was overtaken by darkness, having lost himself in the woods. He was a stranger, and had never heard about the haunted mill. So, seeing a light, he went up to ask his way, or if he could get a chance of a bed that night, I forget which. He saw enough to give him a suspicion; and when he did get back to the tavern he was stopping at, he sent word to the Government authorities. A raid resulted, and they caught four counterfeiters hard at work."
"Four,you said, Jack!" echoed Tom.
"Yes, just the same number there seems to be here; but then that's only a coincidence, because those others are serving ten-year sentences in the penitentiary. Now, you see, I guess the fact of Cedar Island being said to have a real ghost got me into the idea of thinking about that story I read in the paper. Of course it's a silly idea all around."
"Well, I don't know," said Paul, slowly.
"You don't mean to say you think it might happen that way here?" demanded Jack, seeming to be the only one desirous of "shooting holes" in the proposition he had himself advanced, as Bobolink expressed it later on.
"It's possible," Paul said, simply.
"Huh! for my part," spoke up Bobolink, "I think it's more than that, even. If you asked me straight now, I'd be inclined to say it's probable."
"Same here," remarked Tom Betts, eagerly.
Jack laughed as if pleased.
"I declare, I really expected to hear you knock my idea all to flinders," he remarked.
"But what under the sun could they be carrying in that big box?" askedTom Betts.
"Box!" muttered Bobolink, frowning, as though the word recalled to his mind a matter that had been puzzling him greatly of late; but he did not think to say anything further on that subject.
"Well, sometimes machinery comes that way," suggested Paul. "If these strange men did turn out to be what Jack said, they might be getting a press of some kind up here, to do their printing with. I never saw an outfit, but seems to me they must have such a thing, to make the bogus bills."
"That's right," added Tom. "I read all about it not long ago. Wallace Carberry's so interested in everything about books and printing, that he clips all sorts of articles. And this one described a kind of press that had been taken in a raid on some bogus money-makers. Yep, it must have been machinery they were lugging off here. Whew! just to think of us bein' mixed up in such a business. I wonder, now, if the Government ever pays a reward for information about such things."
"Oh! rats! that's the last thing a scout should bother his head about," said Bobolink, scornfully. "He ought to see his duty, and do it. Though, of course, if a nice little present happens along afterwards, why, I guess there's no law against a scout acceptin' it; eh, Paul?"
"Certainly not," replied the other, "you've got the idea down pretty fine, Bobolink. But let's see if we can guess anything else. Then we'd better go back to camp, and start the rest of the fellows thinking about it. Perhaps Jud or Andy or Nuthin might dig up something that never occurred to any of us."
But although they talked it over for some little time they did not seem able to conjure up any new idea; everything advanced proved to hinge upon one of the explanations already spoken of. And in the end they were forced to admit that they had apparently exhausted the subject.
"Let's pick up our fish, and stroll back, fellows," proposed Paul, finally.
"Lucky to have any fish, with that hog around," remarked Bobolink.
"Now you're meaning the wild man, I take it?" said Jack.
"No other; the fellow that drops in on you when you ain't expectin' company, and just swipes your string of fish like he did Jud's. I might 'a thought Jud was giving us a yarn to explain why he didn't have anything to show for his morning's work; but both Little Billie and Gusty saw the same thing. Say, that's another link we got to straighten out. What's a crazy man doing up here; and is he in the same bunch that made these tracks?"
"That's something we don't know," admitted Paul.
"But we mean to find out," asserted Bobolink, with a determined snapping of his jaws.
"Perhaps so—anyhow, we'll make a brave try for it," Paul declared.
"He wasn't one of these four, that's flat," said Tom Betts. "We all saw what a big foot the wild man had; and besides, he goes without shoes."
"Glad to see you noticed all that," commented Paul, who always felt pleased when any of the troop exhibited powers of observation, since it proved that the lessons he was endeavoring to impress upon their minds had taken root.
They turned their faces toward the camp, and Paul made sure to pick up the fish he and Jack had caught.
"With what we'e already cleaned, they'll make a fine mess for the crowd," he remarked, pointing out an unusually big fellow that had given him all the fun he wanted, before consenting to be dragged ashore.
"I notice that you both kill your fish as you get 'em," remarked Tom.
"I wouldn't think of doing anything else," replied Jack. "It only takes a smart rap with a club on the head to end their sufferings. I'd hate to think of even a fish dying by inches, and flapping all over the boat or the ground, as it gasps its life away. That's one of the things scouts are taught—to be humane sportsmen, giving the game a chance, whether fish, flesh or fowl, and not inflicting any unnecessary suffering."
"Wonder if anything's happened in camp since we came away; because Bobolink and I have been gone nearly an hour," remarked Tom Betts, to change the subject; for his conscience reproved him with regard to the matter Jack was speaking about.
"What makes you think that?" asked Paul, suspiciously.
"Oh! nothing; only things seem to be on the jump with us right now; and a fellow can't turn around without bumping into a wild man, or some bogus money-makers, it seems. P'raps the ghost'll show up next. Listen! wasn't that somebody trying to blow your bugle, Bobolink, that you left hung up in the tent?"
"It sure was, for a fact. Let's start on a run, fellows. Mebbe they've gone and grabbed that wild man! P'raps he was bent on carryin' off the whole outfit this time. You never can tell what a crazy man'll do next; that's the hard part of being a keeper in a queer house, where they keep a lot of that kind; anyhow a man told me that once who'd been there. But listen to that scout trying to sound the recall, would you? Whoop her up, boys; there'ssomethinghappened, as sure as you live!"
It was about four o'clock in the afternoon of this, the first day of their intended stay on Cedar Island, when Paul and his three comrades came running around the bend of the shore above the camp, and saw some of the scouts beckoning wildly to them.
"They've gone and grabbed him, sure as shooting!" gasped Bobolink, exultantly.
But Jack and Paul noted that while there teemed to be a cluster of the boys no strange form could be seen among them. In fact, they appeared to be greatly excited over something Jud Elderkin was holding.
And in this manner then did the quartette reach the camp.
"Where is he; got him tied up good and hard?" demanded Bobolink, speaking with difficulty, from lack of breath.
Nobody paid the slightest attention to what he was saying; and so Bobolink, happening to notice that it was Curly Baxter who had been taking liberties with his precious bugle, quietly possessed himself of it, and examined it carefully, to make sure that it had not been dented.
"Take a look at this, Paul," said Jud, as he held out the fluttering piece of paper that had evidently caused all the excitement.
Written upon this the scout master saw only a few words, but they possessed considerable significance, when viewed in the light of the strange happenings of the recent past.
"Leave this island at once!"
Just five words in all. Whoever wrote that order must be a man who did not believe in wasting anything. There was no penalty attached, and they were at liberty to believe anything they chose; just the plain command to get out, and somehow it seemed more impressive because of its brevity.
Paul looked at Jack, and then around at the anxious faces of the other scouts. He saw only blank ignorance there. Nobody could imagine what this strange order meant. The island might have an owner, but at the best it was only a worthless bit of property, and their camping on its shore for a week could not be considered in the light of trespass.
"Where did you get this, Jud?" asked the scout master.
"Why, Old Dan Tucker brought it to me," replied the leader of the GrayFox Patrol, promptly.
"And where didyoufind it, Dan?" continued Paul, turning on the scout in question, who seemed only too willing to tell all he knew—which, it turned out, was precious little at best.
"Why, you see, I had a dispute with Nuthin about the number of hams fetched on the trip. He vowed there was two, and I said three, countin' the one we'd cut into last night. So to prove it, I just happened to step into the tent where we've got some of the grub piled up. It was three, all right, just as I said. But I found this paper pinned to one of the whole hams, which, you know, are sewed up in covers right from the packers. I couldn't make out what it meant. First I thought Nuthin was playin' a joke on me; but he denied it. So I took the paper to Jud, seein' that you were away, Paul."
"It was pinned to one of the hams, was it?" asked the scout master, frowning.
"Sure, and the pin's still stickin' in it," answered Dan, positively.
Paul looked around.
"I want to settle one thing right at the start, before we bother any more about this matter," he remarked. "Did any one of you write this, or have you ever seen it before Dan brought it to Jud?"
"He showed it to me," exclaimed Nuthin; "but it was the first time I ever glimpsed that paper or writin', Paul, I give you my word."
"If anybody else has seen it before, I want him to hold up his hand," continued the scout master, knowing how prone boys are to play pranks.
The boys glanced at each other; but not a single hand went up.
"Well, that settles one thing, then," declared Paul. "This note came from some one not belonging to our camp. He must have crawled into the tent from the rear, taking advantage of our being busy. Yes, there's a bunch of scrub close enough to give him more or less shelter, if he crawled on all fours. Let's see if one or two of the tent pins haven't been drawn up."
Followed by the rest, Paul strode over to the tent where a quantity of the provisions were kept. Entering this, he quickly saw that it was exactly as he had suggested. Three of the tent pins, which the boys had pounded down with the camp axe, had been pulled up, and this slack allowed the intruder to crawl under the now loose canvas.
"I can see the place he shuffled along, and where his toes dug into the earth," declared Jack, as he bent over.
"We'll try and follow it up presently, and see where he got on his feet to move off," Paul remarked. "I'd like to find out whether his shoes make a mark anything like some of those we were looking at up the shore, Jack."
"Whew!" exclaimed Bobolink, who was again deeply interested in what was going on, since he had found his precious bugle unharmed.
"Let's look at that paper again," resumed Paul. "The writing was done with a fountain pen, I should say. That seems to tell that the owner was no common hobo. And the writing is as clear as the print in our copybooks at school. The man who did that was a penman, believe me. 'Leave this island at once!' Just like that, short and crisp. Not a threat about what will happen if we don't, you see; we're expected to just imagine all sorts of terrible things, unless we skip out right away. One thing sure, Jud, your wild man never wrote that note, or even pinned it on our ham, because the crawler wore shoes."
"That's right," muttered Jud, his face betraying the admiration he felt for the scout master who knew so well how to patch things together, so that they seemed to be almost as plain as print.
"Now, the rest of you just stay around while I take Jack and Bobolink with me along this trail. We want to settle one thing, and that'll come when we hit the place where this party got up on his feet to move off."
So saying, Paul himself got down and deliberately crawled under the canvas the same way the trespasser had. Jack and Bobolink hastened to follow his example, only too well pleased to be selected to accompany the leader.
It was no great task to follow the marks made by the crawling man. His toes had dug into the soil, going and coming, for apparently he had used the same trail both ways.
"Here we are, boys; now, take a look!" said Paul, presently.
They were by this time in the midst of the timber with which this end of the island was covered. Glimpses of the tents could be seen between the trees; but any intruder might feel himself reasonably justified in rising to his full height when he had made a point so well screened from inquisitive eyes.
This man had done so, at any rate. The plain print of his shoes was visible in a number of places. Both Jack and Bobolink gave utterance to exclamations as soon as they saw these.
"One of the four, that's dead sure!" the former declared, positively.
"I'll be badgered if it ain't!" muttered Bobolink, staring at the tracks.
"So you see, we've settled one thing right at the start," said Paul.
"That's what we have," observed Bobolink. "It's those fellows who carried the heavy load from the rowboat, after landin' on the island, after the rain storm, that want our room more'n our company. The nerve of that bunch to tell us to clear out, when chances are we've got just as much right here as they have—p'raps a heap sight more."
"That doesn't sound much like you wanted to make a change of base,Bobolink?" remarked Paul, smiling.
"No more do I," quickly replied the other. "I'm not used to bein' ordered around as if I was a slave. What if there are four of them, aren't eighteen husky scouts equal to such a crowd? No, siree, if you left it to me, I'd say stick it out till the last horn blows. Give 'em the defi right from the shoulder. Tell 'em to go hang, for all we care. We c'n take care of ourselves, mebbe; and mind our own business in the bargain."
"But it's something else that makes you want to stay?" Paul suggested.
"How well you know my cut, Paul," declared the other. "You reckon I never can stand a mystery. It gets on my nerves, keeps me awake nights, and plays hob with my think-box all the time. Now, there was those boxes—but I guess I'll try and forget all about that matter now, because we've got a sure enough puzzle to solve right on our hands. Who are these four men; what are they hiding on Cedar Island for; why should they want to chase us away if they weren't afraid we'd find outsomethin' they're a-doin' here, that ain't just accordin' to the law?"
"You've got it pretty straight, Bobolink," admitted Paul. "But since we've learned all we wanted to find out, suppose we go back to the rest of the boys. We must talk this thing over, and decide what's to be done."
"Do you mean about skipping out, Paul?" Bobolink exclaimed. "Oh! I hope now, you won't do anything like that. I'd feel dreadfully mean to sneak away. Always did hate to see a cur dog do that, with his tail between his legs."
"Still, it might seem best to leave here by dark," said Paul.
Something in his manner gave Jack a clue as to the meaning back of these words. He knew the scout master better than did any other fellow in the troop, and was accustomed to reading his motives in his look or manner.
"I take it that means we mightpretendto clear out, and come back under cover of the night, to make another camp; eh, Paul?" Jack now remarked, insinuatingly.
"That was what I had in mind," admitted the other; "but of course it'll be up to the boys to settle such a question. I believe in every fellow having a voice in things that have to do with the general business of the camp. But majority rules when once the vote is taken—stay, or go for good."
"Glad to hear you say so," ventured Bobolink. "Because here's three votes that will be cast for sticking it out; and if I know anything about Jud and Nuthin and Bluff, together with several more, the majority will want to stick. But I mean to give them a hint that we think that way. Several weak-kneed brothers are always ready to vote the way the leaders do. When the scout master takes snuff they start to sneezing right away."
"And for that very reason, Bobolink, I don't want you to say a word in advance to any of the fellows. When we have a vote, it should be the free opinion of every scout, without his being influenced by another. But what do you think of the idea, Jack?"
"I think it's just great," answered his chum. "And by the way, if we should conclude to come back to the island again in the night, I know the finest kind of a place where we could hide the motorboats."
"Where is that?" asked the scout master, quickly.
"You haven't been around on the side of the island where the shore curves into a little bay, like. The trees grow so close that their branches overhang the water. If the boats were left in there, and some green stuff drawn around them, I don't believe they'd ever be noticed, unless some one was hunting every foot of the island over for them."
"Yes, I think I know where you mean," said Paul. "I wasn't down by the little inlet you speak of; but back on the shore there's a dandy place among the rocks and trees, where we could pitch a new camp, and keep pretty well hidden, unless we happened to make a lot of noise, which we won't do if we can help it But everything depends on how the boys look at it."
"Anyhow," said Bobolink, resolutely; "I feel that we ought to put it up to them that way; tell 'em how easy it will be to screen the boats, and have a hidden camp. You'll let me tell about that, Paul, I hope, even if I mustn't say you mean to vote to come back?"
"I suppose that would be fair enough, because we ought to hold up our side of the question," the scout master replied, as they drew near the place where the three tents stood, and several groups of chattering scouts could be seen, doubtless earnestly discussing this mysterious thing that had come about; for, of course, Tom Betts had already told all about the suspicious tracks of the four men who had carried a heavy burden into the brush.
They looked eagerly toward the advancing three, as though expecting thatPaul would now take them fully into his confidence.
This he proceeded to do without further delay; and it was worth while observing the various shades of emotion that flitted across the faces of the listeners while the scout master was talking. Some seemed alarmed, others disposed to be provoked, while not a few, Bobolink noted with secret glee, allowed a frown to mark their foreheads, as though they were growing angry at being so summarily ordered off the island by these unknown men, who did not even have the decency to present their command of dismissal in person.
He knew these fellows could be counted on to vote the right way when the question came up as to what they should do.
When the entire thing had been explained, so that they all understood it, Paul asked for a vote as to whether they clear out altogether, or appear to do so, only to come back again.
And, just as the sanguine Bobolink had expected, it resulted in thirteen declaring it to be their idea that they should come back, and try to find out what all these queer goings-on meant. When the result of the vote was made known, even the five who had voted to go moved that it be made unanimous.
Perhaps they came to the conclusion that since a return was decided on it would be safer to be with the rest on the haunted island, than off by themselves in a lone tent on the distant shore, where no assistance could reach them.
"Well, we'd better have an early supper, then, and get away; or since it is getting dark now, perhaps we'll have to put off the eating part until later," Paul suggested.
"Any old time will do for that," declared Bobolink, carelessly, whereupon Old Dan Tucker gave him a look of dismay, and sadly shook his head, as though he did not indorse such a foolish theory at all.
So, when the others were carrying things to the boats, and showing considerable nervousness while doing it, Old Dan managed to fill his pockets with crackers, which he hoped might stave off starvation for a little while at least.
Acting on the suggestion of Jack, the scouts gave all sorts of exhibitions of alarm as they busied themselves taking down the tents, and loading their traps aboard the two motorboats. Every now and then one of them would point somewhere up or down the shore, as though he thought he saw signs of the enemy coming, whereupon a knot of the boys would gather, and stare, and then scatter, to work more feverishly than ever.
They really enjoyed acting the part, too. It seemed to appeal to their fondness for a joke. And the best of it was, they always fancied that somewhere or other at least one pair of hostile eyes must be observing these signs of panic with satisfaction.
Just as darkness began to creep over water and island, clouds shutting out the moonlight again, all was pronounced ready. And then the cheery "chug" of the motors sounded, for the boys purposely made all the noise they could, under the impression that it might seem to add to the appearance of a hasty flight.
In this manner did the troop of scouts break camp before they had been on Cedar Island more than twenty-four hours; and, so far as appearances went, deserted the place of the evil name for good and all.