He had hardly said the last word when a large object jumped almost under Davy’s feet, upsetting him completely. And as he fell over, nimbly turning a complete back-somersault, for Davy was as smart at such things as any circus performer, he managed to bawl out wildly:
“Bear! Bear! why don’t you shoot it, Giraffe?”
“Bear nothing!” exclaimed the scout who held the gun.
He had instinctively elevated the weapon at the first sound of alarm from his ally; and had it been necessary Giraffe was in a position to have given a good account of himself, for he was known to be a somewhat clever shot.
Just in time, however, he had managed to get a better view of the creature that Davy had stumbled upon, losing his balance in his excitement.
“What was it, then, Giraffe, if not a bear? Don’t tell me it was a dog,” demanded the other, having righted himself after his somersault.
“Didn’t you hear him grunt as he ran away?” asked the lengthy one contemptuously; for he might have pressed the trigger of his gun only that just in time his ears had been greeted with the sound in question.
“Grunt? Great Cæsar’s ghost! was that ahog?” almost shrieked Davy.
“Just what it was, a dun-colored hog, and a rousing big critter in the bargain, let me tell you, Davy. I saw him as plain as anything, and he ran back of us, you noticed, so we won’t be apt to raise him again in a hurry.”
“But what’d an old grunter be doing out here, tell me, Giraffe?”
“Shucks! how d’ye think I’d know?” returned the other. “Expect I’m up in the hog lingo just because I did say I always wanted to understand crow talk? Why, for all we know, that hog’s been living here since last summer; or else he’s another flood victim, and got washed up like we did. They’re all doin’ it, you know.”
“Well, well, who’d expect to run up against a porker?” Dave went on to say, as he sought to grasp the full significance of the adventure, having by now recovered from the shock the sudden surprise had given him. “And Giraffe, if a hog this time, what next will we run across? P’raps there might be chickens, and cows, and all sorts of things close by? Mebbe the old island’s inhabited, after all.”
“One thing sure,” Giraffe went on to say, in a satisfied tone, “this beats out Robinson Crusoe by a whole lot.”
“As how, Giraffe?”
“Is there any comparison between hogs and goats when it comes to making a good dinner?” demanded the other. “Why, don’t you see what this means to us, Davy? No use talking about going hungry as long as there’s such noble hunting on this little patch of ground. Me to bag a prize hog, when the right time comes. Hams, and sweet little pork chops, and smoked shoulders—oh! we could live a week off that buster, believe me.”
He smacked his lips, as though the prospect gave him unlimited pleasure. Davy himself had known the time when the slaughter of a three-hundred pound hog afforded no occasion for showing more than passing interest; but that was when starvation did not stare him in the face. Circumstances alter cases; and he was almost as much excited over the outlook now as the always hungry Giraffe seemed to be.
“How do we know that this place we’ve been calling an island isn’t connected with the mainland?” was Davy’s next suggestion.
“How d’ye mean?” demanded his ally, as they started on once more.
“Why, there might be some sort of a link, you see, a sort of isthmus, so to call it, along which the hog made his way, and where we could skip out of the trap; how about that, Giraffe?”
“Nothing doing, Davy,” came the scornful reply; “didn’t we see that the river ran past on both sides like a mill race? Well, it wouldn’t do that if the way was blocked by a strip of land, would it? Not much. We’re marooned on a sure-enough island, and you can’t get around that. Course we might run across a cow yet; same time we’ll keep our eyes peeled for a breadfruit tree, and coffee bushes, and truck gardens. Nothing like being hopeful through it all.”
“Can hogs swim, Giraffe, do you happen to know?”
“Well, you get me there,” returned the other. “I never saw one doing the same; but seems to me I have heard of such a thing. They can do nearly anything, and so swimming may be on their list. I only hope the old chap don’t take a notion to clear out of here before I get a crack at him, that’s all.”
“I was only going to say that we might capture the old grunter, and hitch him to a log on which the whole lot of us perched, making him tow the same ashore.”
Of course Giraffe understood Davy was only joking when he said this, but he chose to pretend to take it seriously.
“If you leave it to me to choose, Davy,” he went on to say gravely, “I’d prefer to have those hams and the bacon, and take my chances of paddling ashore afterward. Besides, I don’t believe we’ve got anything to make harness out of, so your great scheme would fall kind of flat. Give that bunch of bushes another whack with your club while you’re about it, will you? We want to clear up things as we go along, so we’ll know the job’s been done gilt-edged.”
“Looks like that’s an open place ahead, Giraffe,” ventured Davy, after he had complied with the request, and found nothing.
“Yes, it does seem that way, Davy, and p’r’aps now we’ll have a chance to look around a bit when we strike it. I was just wondering whether the river could have been up over all this island any old time in the past, and here’s the evidence of the same.”
He pointed to what looked like drift stuff caught in the crotch of a tree. It may have been lodged there years back, but anyone with observation could readily see that it had been carried to its present location by a moving current.
“As true as anything, Giraffe, and there must have been three feet of water over the highest ground on the island then. Lucky the rain stopped when it did, or we might be perched in trees right at this minute.”
“That’s what Thad was saying, when he told us it was never so bad but what it might be a whole lot worse. Think of the bunch of us being compelled to roost in trees day and night, till somebody came along in a motorboat and rescued us. Well, for one, I’m glad things didn’t get quite that bad.”
As they drew closer to the open spot they could see the other scouts advancing on their right, and covering the ground. They exchanged signals, and in this way learned that nothing had thus far been seen of those for whom they were searching.
Thad drew them together at this point.
“From here on we’ll be much closer,” he told them all, “because it looks as though the end of the island must be just a little ways off, and it seems to come to a point like the upper end. Look over there, what do you call that?” and he pointed directly ahead as he spoke.
“Smoke!” announced Old Eagle Eye instantly.
Everyone was ready to confirm his announcement, after they had taken a look.
“And as there couldn’t be smoke without a fire, and no fire unless some human hand had started it,” the scout master continued, in his logical way, “it looks as if we might be closing in on those we’re hunting for, Wandering George and his pal.”
“Well, since they’ve had a fire that means the finish of our grub,” commented Giraffe; “but then, it’s only what we expected; and, Thad, there’s a great big hog on this island—no, don’t laugh, because I’m not referring to Bumpus now. I mean a real porker, a whopper of several hundred pounds weight. Davy stepped on him, and I could have knocked the beast over as easy as turning my hand. So we don’t need to have any fear of being starved out, if it gets to the worst.”
“That sounds good to me, Giraffe, and I can see that you’re not joking,” Thad told him. “We heard some sort of a row over your way, but thought it was only one of you tripping over those creepers. A hog may not seem like very fine company, but that depends on conditions. Just now we’ll be glad to know him, and to offer him the warmest seat close by our fire. Fact is, we’ll take him as a companion, and let him be one of us. Now, let’s make our line again, for we want to push down toward that fire below.”
“There’s another patch of scrub ahead, before we get to the point of the island, and we might lose our game in that if we didn’t keep the net drawn across, for a fact,” admitted Allan, who of course recognized the wisdom shown by the leader in continuing the carrying out of his plan.
Once more they separated, but this time it was not necessary to put much ground between them. When the line had formed all eyes were turned toward Thad. He waved his hat, which was the signal to begin the advance; so again each scout moved on as before, examining every possible cover for signs of the enemy.
They had thus made a clean sweep of the island. Rabbits may have escaped them by hiding in crannies among the rocks; and squirrels could have remained aloft in their nests inside hollow limbs of trees, or secreted amidst the foliage of the evergreen hemlocks; but certainly no larger object had evaded them.
As they continued to close in on the spot where the smoke arose, the scouts very naturally felt more or less the thrill of excitement. They knew full well what it meant, for many times in the past the same queer sensation had almost overpowered them.
This chase had been in progress long enough now to have aroused their hunting instincts. That the old blue army coat should eventually be returned to the judge was to most of them a small affair, for they of course did not know the real reason why its recovery mattered to the former owner; but they had somehow set their hearts on accomplishing the object they had in view. And the more difficulty they met with in doing this, the stronger their desire grew.
The trees became more sparse, so that before long they caught glimpses of the fire itself. It was not burning very briskly, though sending off considerable in the way of smoke, a fact that convinced the scouts these hoboes knew nothing concerning woodcraft, and the habits of Indians in making fires of certain kinds of dry fuel that hardly send up any smoke at all.
Now the scouts, having finished their “combing” process, began to gather together for the final rush. They had reached the open ground, where no object half the size of a man could evade them, so they felt they need have no fear of either one of the hoboes passing by.
“I see one of them lying there, like he might be asleep, Thad,” whispered one of the scouts; and of course it could be taken for granted that it was Giraffe, of the eagle eye, who spoke.
“The second fellow may be on the other side of the fire, back of the smoke,” remarked Step Hen; but somehow neither Thad nor Allan could believe this, because the smoke was drifting that way, and they knew very well no one willingly places himself on the leeward side of a smudge like that, suffocating in its effect.
The further they crept the more concerned did Thad and the Maine boy become. They could see the sleeping tramp by now, and it was with more or less uneasiness they realized the fact that he must be other than Wandering George. Besides, not the first sign of the blue army overcoat did they discover anywhere.
While thus preparing to close in on the sleeping tramp, and give him a very unpleasant surprise, the scouts were feeling stunned over the mysterious disappearance of the man they had been following so far, and whom they felt sure must have been on that very island only a comparatively few hours before.
Thad kept hoping that the second hobo would start up from some place when they made their presence known; and it was in this expectation that he finally swung his hat, which started his five companions on a hasty run toward the smoking fire.
The scouts had been eagerly awaiting this motion with the hat on the part of the patrol leader. It acted on them about in the same way the bang of a starting pistol might with a string of nerve-strained sprinters, anxious to leap forward, with a prize in view to the first under the tape.
Many times before had they found themselves in just this same position, with Thad deciding the start. Giraffe, the fastest in the bunch, was crouched in his accustomed attitude, looking somewhat like a big, wiry cat getting ready to spring; while Bob White, Step Hen, Allan and Davy Jones each had assumed an attitude best suited to his particular method of starting.
At the same time all of them understood this was not going to be a race. They had been instructed to spread out a little, after the manner of an open fan, as they advanced. This was to give the tramp as little chance to escape as they possibly could.
Well, the hat, after being poised for a few preliminary seconds in mid-air, was suddenly swung downward with a violent dip. That meant in the plainest of language “Go!” and every fellow made a forward move.
Giraffe had been given one of the outer lines, since that meant he would have a little more ground to cover; and no one was better fitted for this than the lanky scout. Nature had built him for a runner from the ground up; he did not have a superfluous ounce of fat on him, but was all muscle, and, as Giraffe often proudly declared, his flesh was “as hard as nails.”
It was a pretty sight to see those five fellows in khaki begin to spread out in that systematic way, just as though each one might consider himself a part of a machine.
Thad had purposely taken the center, so that he could keep an eye on every part of the field. It is always considered the best thing for a captain on a baseball club to be posted somewhere in the diamond, preferably on third base, as that gives him a chance to watch the game closely. It also allows him the opportunity of running in frequently and arguing with the umpire over disputed plays.
So far nothing had happened to warn the dozing tramp of their coming. All of the boys had gotten under way without a single mishap in the line of a stumble, which would serve to warn their intended victim.
He was still sprawled out alongside the warm fire, and doubtless enjoying himself in true hobo style, caring nothing as to what went wrong with the world, so long as he did not miss a meal.
Thad would have been much better satisfied could he have glimpsed that badly wanted army coat somewhere around; but its absence, although to be regretted, must not interfere with the programme he had laid out.
The distance from the shelter of the brush to the fire was not very great, and could have been covered speedily only for the desire on the part of the scouts to take the man by surprise.
Step Hen spoiled this by an unfortunate stumble, which was rather singular, because as a rule he had proved sure-footed. It chanced, however, that Step Hen was watching the reclining figure by the fire so closely that he did not notice some obstruction lying in his path, so that the first thing he knew he caught his toe, and measured his full length on the ground.
Of course that spoiled the surprise part of the game. Thad knew it instantly, as the tramp’s head came up, and accordingly he uttered a quick command.
“Rush him!”
With that each scout jumped forward, eager to be the first to close in on the enemy. Those who had guns displayed them threateningly, while the others waved their clubs in a way that needed no explanation as to what use they expected to make of the same presently.
If the actions of the invaders of the hobo camp were rapid the same could be said concerning the movements of the lone inmate. He must have realized the desperation of his position the very instant he sighted those advancing boys in khaki, with such a ferocious display of various weapons of defense and offense, for like a flash he scrambled to his feet.
As it was hardly to be expected that the tramp had prepared himself against a surprise like this, the chances were he acted solely from impulse.
Giraffe fully expected he would try and go around their outermost guards, and with memories of similar tactics employed on the gridiron he changed his course somewhat in order to cut off this flight.
It was a mistake, for the fellow never once endeavored to flee. Instead of this he leaped over to a pile of rocks that chanced to lie close by, forming a species of pyramid. The boys saw him throw himself into the midst of this, even while they were rushing forward, though they could not anticipate what his scheme might be.
Events are apt to happen with lightning-like rapidity under such conditions as these, and the first thing the boys knew there was a sharp report as of a pistol, and a puff of smoke burst from the pile of rocks that thrilled them to the core.
“He’s got a gun!” snapped Giraffe, looking to Thad to give the order to send back as good as they received.
It was a time for quick thinking. The tramp was evidently a desperate sort of fellow, who, finding himself in danger of arrest, meant to stand out to the end. He may not have tried to injure any of them when he fired that shot, but all the same it gave the boys a chill, and several of them involuntarily ducked their heads, as if they fancied the hobo had picked them out for his target, and that they had heard the whiz of the lead past their ears.
Thad sized up the situation in that speedy way of his. Occasions sometimes crop up that call for the promptest kind of action; and surely this looked like one of that kind.
“Allan, keep on in the center, and I’ll turn his flank!” he shouted. “Bend down, everybody, and get behind a rock if you can. We’ve justgotto land him, that’s all there is about it!”
Even while saying this the scout master was on the jump, and, passing Allan as well as Bob White, he sped toward the edge of the water, making a half circle.
There was another sharp report from the rocks, but, although the boys held their breath while watching their leader run, they rejoiced to see that he gave no sign of having been injured by the tramp’s firing.
Every boy was keyed up to what Giraffe would call “top-notch” condition; doubtless hands quivered while they clutched gun or club, and hearts beat with the rapidity of so many trip-hammers. But to their credit it could be said that not one of them as much as looked back over their shoulders, to see if the way for retreat was open. That spoke well for their courage, at least.
Thad reached the spot which he had set out to attain, and instantly whirled, to aim his gun toward the rock pile. It was just as he had anticipated, for the tramp, while sheltered on the one side, was fully exposed on that looking down the river.
“Surrender, or it’ll be the worse for you!” shouted Thad.
“Jump him, boys!” roared Giraffe, utterly unable to keep back a second longer, while his nerves were quivering in that furious fashion.
When Step Hen and the other four saw the impetuous right end start straight toward the rock pile, they gave a shout, and proceeded to imitate his example. Boys are a good deal like sheep in many ways, and when one takes a venture he is certain to be copied by others.
From all sides they were thus closing in rapidly on the hobo who was at bay, and every fellow was giving vent to his excitement in shouts and screeches calculated to complete the collapse of the tramp’s defiance.
He knew when he had had enough. Serious though arrest might appear to him under the present conditions, it would be a dozen fold worse should he fire that weapon of his again, and succeed in injuring one of these brave lads. Besides, he must have been more or less influenced by the handy way they carried those guns.
This being the case, the tramp at bay suddenly threw up both his hands, at the same time bawling:
“Hey! don’t shoot; I’m all in, gents; I surrender!”
The furious shouts now ceased, since the object of their rush had apparently been accomplished. Thad, however, was too smart a leader to lose any advantage that fortune had placed in his hands.
“Throw out that gun!” he called in his sternest voice; “and be quick about it, if you know what’s good for you!”
The man hastened to obey the order. No doubt he understood that his captors were only boys; but there may be circumstances where cubs are just as dangerous as full-grown men; and this is the case when they happen to be provided with firearms.
“Come out here, and keep your hands up!” continued the patrol leader, who did not trust the fellow, and while speaking he kept his gun leveled so that it bore straight upon him.
The hobo looked disgusted, as well he might at finding himself a victim to such humiliating conditions, with boys his captors. He scowled darkly as he left the partial shelter of the rocks, and advanced several paces toward the scouts.
“That’ll do,” Thad told him; “now lie down on the sand on your face, and put your hands behind you. We’ve got to tie your wrists, you understand. Here, don’t think to play any trick, because we won’t stand for it! Down on your knees, and over you go!”
Realizing that such a young chap was not to be trifled with, the tramp, muttering to himself, did as he was ordered. Lying there on his chest he pushed both hands behind his back, and crossed his wrists, just as though this might not be the first time he had run up against a similar situation.
“Giraffe, you fix him up!” said the patrol leader, for the lengthy scout had a reputation as an expert in tying hard knots, and was never known to be without more or less stout cord on his person.
It had come in handy many a time in the past, as Giraffe could explain if asked, and he produced his coil now with a satisfied grin that told how much he enjoyed his new job.
After Giraffe had completed the fastening of the hobo’s big wrists, there was not one chance in a thousand the fellow could free himself, even if he were a second Houdini, capable of slipping handcuffs from his person by doubling up his pliable hands.
This done, Giraffe got up, and helped the man rise to his feet.
“Behave yourself now, and we’ll treat you white,” he told him; “but just try to make trouble, and see what you get, that’s all. But, Thad, where d’ye reckon his pal has disappeared to, that he ain’t around here? We covered every foot of the island from the other end, and didn’t scare him up. Half a loaf may be better than no bread, but we didn’t come after this fellow at all. We want Wandering George, and we want him bad.”
Thad himself was bothered to tell how the second tramp had disappeared. If the ground had opened and swallowed him he could not have vanished more completely; and apparently there was only one source of information open to them. This was the prisoner, who stood there, listening to what they were saying, and trying hard to conceal a grin that would creep over his face in spite of him. That very cunning expression convinced Thad the man knew the important fact they wanted to find out, if only they could force him to speak.
“Where’s your partner?” asked Thad, turning suddenly on the prisoner.
The tramp tried to look at him as if in surprise. Undoubtedly he was hugging the one hope to his heart that as long as his companion remained foot-free there might be a chance for his release. That idea of self-interest was undoubtedly the only thing that would account for his desire to remain mute.
“My partner?” he went on to say, as though not understanding what was meant.
“Yes, the man who was with you, Wandering George, the fellow who wore the blue army overcoat that was given to him by a lady in Cranford a few days ago?”
“Oh! you mean him, does you?” the hobo replied, with a knowing nod; “that guy gimme the slip yesterday, and never divvied with me either. I’d like right well to set eyes on George myself, and that’s no lie. I got a bone tuh pick with him.”
“You’re telling what isn’t true, now,” said Thad severely. “We happen to know that you two came here in the hold of the shanty boat we were on. Last night George crept into our camp, and got away with nearly all our food stuff. There’s a piece of the bacon right now, Giraffe, which ought to please you some. What have you got to say about that, Mr. Tramp?”
“It was me sneaked your camp, kid; I was nigh starved out, and nawthin’ couldn’t keep me from takin’ chances,” the other boldly replied.
“Tell that to the marines!” Giraffe blurted out. “Thad, you don’t believe him, do you? We know better than that, don’t we?”
“The man who crept into our camp had a rag tied around his right foot to keep the torn sole of his shoe on,” Thad went on to say positively, as though clinching matters beyond all question; “and we can see that both your shoes are fairly decent, so it couldn’t have been you. Besides, there were two pairs of tracks making the trail. You waited for him back of the bushes, and both went off together. Now, you see how foolish it is trying to yarn out of it. Where is George?”
The man looked into that flushed but determined face. He saw something in those steady eyes that convinced him the leader of these boys in khaki was not the one to be further trifled with.
So he gave a nervous little laugh.
“Well, you sure got me twisted up, and kinked tuh beat the band, kid,” he said. “I got a pal, jest as you sez, an’ his handle is George. But jest where he might be at this minit is more’n I c’n say.”
“But he’s on the island, isn’t he?” demanded Step Hen.
“He shore is, ’less he’s took a crazy notion to try an’ swim over tuh the shore, which wouldn’t be like cautious George a bit.”
“He was here with you, how long ago?” asked Allan; “you must have cooked breakfast this morning with that fire, and he sat right here, where I can see the mark of his broken shoe. Where did he go, and when?”
“That’s what we want to know!” added Giraffe sternly.
The tramp saw that he was cornered. One by one his defenses had been beaten down. These energetic boys would not stand for any further holding back on his part; and unless he wished to invite rough treatment it was now up to him to tell all he knew.
“Well, George was sittin’ there, as you sez, younker, an’ he takes a sudden notion that he wants tuh find out what the rest o’ the folks of this island ’spected to do so’s tuh get away. That bein’ the case, he sez to me, sez he: ‘I reckons I’ll stroll up a ways, and take a look around. If there’s anything doin’ in the boat line we might want tuh cop it, and clear out.’ And so he goes off, an’ I ain’t seen the first sign o’ George since then.”
“How long ago might that have been?” asked Thad.
“I been asleep nearly all the time since, so how could I tell?” came the reply.
“By looking at the sun,” the patrol leader told him; “you know how high it was when George went away. And hoboes never have any need of a watch.”
“’Cept to hock, and get cash on the same, kid,” the man remarked, with a grin, at the same time casting a quick glance upward; “well, I reckon it might ’a’ been all o’ an hour back when George, he passed away.”
The boys looked at each other in some perplexity. Since they had certainly covered the whole island, they could not understand how it came they had missed the other tramp. He was a big fellow, and could not have hidden in any hole among the rocks that they had noticed. The mystery bothered them, from Thad down to Step Hen and Davy.
“What if he did take a notion to try and swim for it?” suggested the latter, as Giraffe was scratching his head, and looking in a helpless fashion at Thad.
“Not one chance in a thousand that way,” replied the patrol leader; “I call myself a fairly good swimmer, but I’d hate to take the chances of that current, and the rocks under the surface. No, he must be on the island still.”
“But whereabouts, Thad; didn’t we cover the ground, every foot of it, while we came down here?” pleaded Step Hen.
“I wonder, now?” Thad was saying half aloud, as though a sudden inspiration had broken in upon him.
“What is it, Thad?” begged Giraffe; “sounds like you’ve got an idea, all right. Let’s hear it, won’t you?”
“There’s only one way we could have missed him,” replied the other; “and that would mean he hid in a tree.”
There arose a series of exclamations from the other scouts.
“Well, what d’ye think of that, now?” cried Giraffe, apparently taken aback by the suggestion; “we kept our noses turned to the ground so much none of us ever bothered looking up, did we?”
“But, Thad, the leaves ain’t on the trees yet, so how could he hide from us? Do you mean he got behind a big limb, and lay there like a squirrel?” Davy demanded.
“You forget there are some hemlocks on the island, and every one of us knows how easy it would be for a fellow to hide in their bushy tops any time of year,” Thad told him.
“What’s the answer?” snapped Giraffe, always wanting action, and then more action.
“We’ve got to go back again, and find him, that’s all,” said Thad, with a look of grim determination on his face.
“How about this fellow?” remarked Allan. “Do we want to trot him along with us?” and he jerked his thumb at the prisoner as he said this.
Thad considered for a short time.
“That would be poor business, I’m thinking,” he concluded. “We’d better leave him here until we want him again.”
“I’ve got more strong cord,” Giraffe suggested; “and we could tie him to a tree, like the Injuns used to do with their captives.”
“Oh! there ain’t any need tuh do that, boys,” argued the hobo, who apparently did not fancy such an arrangement. “I’ll set right here, and never move while you’re gone, sure I will.”
“We’ll make certain that you stay where we leave you,” Thad told him.
Giraffe only waited for the word, and immediately backed the tramp to a tree that seemed suited for the purpose. Then he wound the cord around as many times as it would go, and tied it in hard knots. As the hobo still had his hands fastened behind him, and could not begin to get at the knots with his teeth, it looked as though he would have to stay there until the scouts were pleased to release him.
“Now what, Thad?” asked the energetic Giraffe, picking up his gun again.
“Go back the same way we came,” the other replied.
“Covering the ground, you mean, only this time we’ll look into every tree in the bargain; that’s the programme, is it, Thad?” asked Step Hen.
“Yes.”
Again the boys began to spread out, and in this manner was the captured tramp left behind. He realized that it was useless trying to influence them to change their minds, and so resigned himself to his fate.
Giraffe had secured the remains of the strip of bacon, and was dangling this from his left hand as he went along. Apparently he did not mean to take any chances of it getting away from him again; and of course Bob White noted his action with a nod of appreciation.
It was slow work now, because they had to investigate each likely tree that was approached. Some of these were of a type calculated to afford a refuge for anyone who wished to hide. Several times one of the boys, usually the spry Davy, was sent aloft to make sure the object of their search was not hiding there.
Thad began to wonder if anything could have happened at their camp. He remembered that they had left the two weakest scouts on guard, and this worried him.
Often as he pushed on, Thad had strained his hearing, dreading at the same time lest he catch sounds of serious import. But beyond the chatter of the crows that flew scolding ahead of them, and the scream of an early red-headed woodpecker tapping at a rotten tree trunk, there was no sound, unless he took into consideration the fretting of the water sweeping past outlying spurs of the island shore.
They had passed nearly halfway when Giraffe beckoned to the leader, without saying a single word, upon which Thad of course hastened toward him.
When the lanky scout pointed to the ground, Thad immediately turned his eyes in that quarter. He was not very much surprised at discovering the plain imprint of a shoe there in the soil.
“George made it,” said Giraffe solemnly, “because there’s that old rag tied about his foot, as we’ve always found it. And, Thad, of course you notice that he was heading up country when he passed by here?”
“Yes, that’s certainly a fact, Giraffe.”
“Showing he came down out of his tree, and went on after we passed him. Davy was right when he said he believed he could see signs in that last hemlock as if some one had broken the bark with his heels. It was Wandering George, all right; and this time we’ve got him ahead of us. We’ll not let him give us the slip again; and it’ll be something of a joke to get a tramp at each end of the island. But what are you thinking about, Thad, to look so serious?”
“I was wondering whether anything could have happened to our two chums, Giraffe.”
“Oh! you must mean Bumpus and Smithy!” ejaculated the lanky scout, with a quick intake of his breath, as though a thrill had passed over him at the same time; “but, Thad, they had a gun, you remember; and if they kept on the watch, as you told ’em, what could happen to hurt the boys?”
“I don’t know, only it bothers me,” replied the other; “and if we can hurry on any faster now I’d like to do it.”
The word was passed along the line, and after that they tried to increase their speed, though trying not to neglect their work, if it could be avoided.
As they drew closer to the region where the camp had been made, Thad was conscious of feeling a strange sensation in the region of his heart, which he could not wholly understand.
Giraffe made out to wander close to him on occasion, and was at this time saying with more or less confidence:
“Only a few minutes more, Thad, and we ought to raise the camp. Sure we’ll find everything lovely, and the goose hanging high. George would know better than to bother two fellows, and one of the same handling a gun in the bargain. Course he sheered off, and gave them a wide berth when he saw that, Thad. It’s going to come out all right, I tell you!”
Nevertheless the patrol leader felt very anxious as they drew near the camp, and he tried to prepare himself for the worst.
When Bumpus and Smithy saw their comrades pass away toward the north, leaving the camp in their full charge, they were immediately impressed with a sense of great responsibility.
The stout scout in particular seemed to feel that it was a post of honor to which they had been assigned by the patrol leader. Of course this was partly due to what Thad had told him at the time he picked out the pair to remain behind and take care of their few possessions.
“We’ve got to be faithful and wide awake, Smithy,” Bumpus told his comrade; “for it’d be a terrible calamity if the boys came back here, tired and played out, only to find that the enemy had captured the camp in their absence. And let me tell you, that would reflect on you and me forever and a day afterward. You know that Thad expects every fellow to do his duty. So we’ll keep on the watch every minute of the time till they come back again.”
Smithy appeared to be duly impressed with the gravity of the occasion. Bumpus of course made sure to carry the only weapon that had been left in their charge; but as it was his gun, and he knew more about handling it than Smithy did, it seemed only right that this should be so. But the other member of the home guard had seen some of the boys who went off arming themselves with stout cudgels, and he thought it wise to imitate their example, though at the same time seriously doubting his ability to make good use of the same, should an emergency arise.
“Yes, what you say is true, Bumpus,” he remarked seriously. “The motto of all good scouts is ‘Be prepared,’ and we must surely live up to it. While I sincerely hope nothing will happen to call for a defense of the camp, still I’m ready to assume my share of the burden in case of necessity.”
Now, Smithy always liked to use long words, and his manner was something like that of an important pedagogue; but the boys had learned that under all this surface veneering Smithy was true gold, and, as Giraffe said, “O. K.”
He had never been the one to indulge in rough-and-tumble “horse play” while in camp, like Giraffe, Step Hen and Davy, for instance; but on several occasions the others had seen his metal tested, and Smithy had come out with flying colors.
His face might get white when danger impended, but he had the right kind of nerve, and would stand up for another, no matter what threatened. Smithy was exceedingly modest, and always apologizing for his lack of stamina; but Thad knew he was no coward under it all.
The minutes passed slowly as the two boys sat there by the cheery fire. Naturally they kept listening eagerly, half expecting to hear some sudden wild clamor that would announce the discovery of the tramps, and a desperate effort on the part of their chums to make them prisoners.
They remembered that these men were both big fellows, and undoubtedly more or less to be feared, especially when their passions were aroused.
“Don’t seem to be anything doing so far,” Bumpus remarked, as he poked the fire, and immediately afterward raised his head, as well as his fat neck would allow, the better to listen intently.
“And you’d think they’d had sufficient time to reach the upper end of the island, too?” Smithy went on to say reflectively.
“Oh! well, the real drive only begins then, you see,” Bumpus informed him, with rather an important air. “Thad said they meant to strike straight for the place where we landed, and then comb the ground as they came along. I don’t just know what he meant by that same word, but it sounds good to me. When you comb a thing you get everything out, even the tangles; and if the tramps are hiding somewhere on the island they’ll be found.”
“Trust Thad for that,” assented Smithy, who had the greatest admiration for and confidence in the scout master.
“What was that moved then?” exclaimed Bumpus, reaching out, and taking hold of his gun with hands that trembled more or less, though at the same time his teeth were grimly set, and his eyes shone with determination. “Sho!” he added, after a half minute of terrible suspense, “look at that, will you, only a sassy little striped chipmunk, after all, frisking around to see if we hadn’t spilled some crumbs when we had our breakfast. But I’m afraid he’ll be badly disappointed, because there ain’t any crumbs when you’ve only had grits for your morning meal.”
After that they sat there for some little time with senses on the alert, waiting for some sign from the chums who had recently left them.
“One thing sure,” Bumpus finally remarked, showing what was constantly on his mind; “they’ve just got to pass by this way sooner or later. Course we’ll see ’em then; and so don’t be surprised if the brush begins to move over yonder, because it’ll be one of our chums.”
“But wouldn’t it be the proper caper for them to warn us before they show up?” asked Smithy. “They know you’ve got a gun, and that’s always a dangerous toy for a boy to handle, according to my way of thinking. Why, you might imagine they were the tramps, and give them a shot before you saw they were our chums.”
“Listen!” said Bumpus, with a broad grin.
There came from amidst the thick brush a peculiar sound that was supposed to resemble the barking of a fox. Of course both guards recognized it as the well-known signal with which members of the Silver Fox Patrol made their presence known to one another when in the forest, or in the darkness of night.