“What did this car look like?” asked the warden.
“Like nothin’ else in the world, seems like. Said it had a canvas top, like a Conestoga wagon, all fixed up to live in—the driver was a fat little feller that looked like a wop, and he had his missus along. Catch that pair, and mebbe they’ll tell you somethin’ ye ought to know!”
“We passed that outfit up the road—remember?” burst out Diker. “Full speed ahead, Frank! They were fixin’ up a tire when I saw ’em—they can’t be very far from here! And pass me that gun of mine.”
Frank carefully passed Diker’s shotgun over the back of his seat, and the car roared ahead. Jerry peered forward with the rest. He had seen that caravan and its funny little owner. Did he know anything about Jake and Burk? Was it even possible that——
They rounded a sharp bend in the road. “There it is!” whooped Diker. “Draw up beside them, and we’ll see what they know!” Again the driver slammed on the brakes, and the car screamed to a halt a few yards ahead of the oncoming van. Diker jumped out, shotgun in hand, and stood in front of the strange canvas-covered car. “Halt, in the name of the law!”
The caravan shivered to a rattling stop. The dark, fat couple on the seat began jabbering at each other in some outlandish tongue.
“Never mind that!” came Diker’s command. “Come down here in the road! Now, I just want you to answer a few questions—— Quiet! How do you expect me to talk when you’re gabblin’ like a bunch of turkeys?”
“What ees it you do, Meester?”
“Come down, I say! That’s right—now bring the lady.” Diker turned to his chief. “I’ll bring ’em over to you, Warden, so you can ask ’em anything you like. Over here, please! Gypsies, aren’t you?”
Jerry, from his seat in the car, could look down upon the heads of the two dark little people who were now lost in the cross-fire of questions put to them by Diker and the warden.
“Now, you stopped up by Lake Wallis a few hours ago. We’re looking for a man, a convict, who has escaped and who was last seen at the place you stopped. Know anything about him?”
The little man almost had tears in his large rolling black eyes. “Ah, Meester, I have hear of that wicked man! No, thanks to the saints I have seen no wicked man—eh, Maria?”
His gestures were comical, but Jerry Utway was not watching. Did his eyes deceive him, or was there a ripple of movement behind the canvas top of the other car? Was it really true that Jake and the man Burk were——
“No,” the little stranger went on; “there was no wicked man. But—wait a meenit—there was a very good man, a good man who help me poosh—and a very good leetle boy——”
Jerry, who had not taken his eyes from the opening in the canvas front of the caravan, bit his lip to keep from shouting. For an instant, he had seen a pale face peeping out there, and it was Jake’s face! They were in that car, hiding under the canvas top! In another second the fat, voluble little man would give them away, and then it would be all over!
Diker shifted his gun. “A man and a boy?” he cried. “Where are they now?”
Jerry saw his chance. All eyes were upon the strange couple. With a swift movement, he leaned forward, over the driver’s shoulder. The keys to the ignition were still in the lock on the dashboard. Deftly he switched them off, and threw the bunch of keys as far as he could into the bushes on the other side of the road!
The men of the law, intent on their questioning, had been taken off guard. For a moment they did not comprehend what had happened; and in that moment Jerry Utway screamed his warning.
“Drive ahead, Jakie—drive!”
He felt the warden’s arms about him; he could not move. The driver shouted: “He chucked away the keys!” and jumped out of the car, colliding with the bewildered Diker. A motor whirred noisily; the ungainly caravan lurched slowly forward. And Jake, good old Jakie, was bending over the wheel, driving for dear life!
“Drive!”
The man called Frank was trying to disentangle himself from Diker’s arms, still shouting: “He chucked away the keys! We can’t chase them until we get those keys!” Diker fought his way free, bumped into the fat, frightened-looking dark man, and at last got clear. He started to run up the road in the wake of the caravan, which had slowly gained speed and was rattling south at a good rate. Seeing that he could not hope to overtake the car on foot, he stopped short, yelled a final command to halt, and clapped his gun to his shoulder.
“Duck!” shrieked Jerry, and felt the warden’s hand clapped over his mouth. A double explosion boomed from the road. Diker had fired both barrels. Jerry’s eyes hurt as he strained to see through the smoke. The caravan jerked an instant, then moved on, gathered speed, and disappeared from view at a curve in the road.
In full career, the caravan pitched and creaked like a ship in a heavy sea. Jake clung grimly to the wheel, expecting each minute to hear another rain of lead rattle about his ears; but he doggedly notched the little car to its highest speed, holding her to the road.
Old Jerry had done it! In another minute they would have been bagged without a struggle, but Jerry had given them the only chance for freedom in sight. It would take their hunters some time to locate the keys of the big car, turn it around, and pursue the van. A few minutes leeway might do wonders!
“Stop, stop, ye fool!”
A man with a badge on his lapel was waving his arms wildly in front. Jake shoved on more gas; the man who had sought to stop them leaped blindly for his life, and they passed him in a cloud of dust.
How far could they get at this rate? Jake leaned back and shouted, “All right, Burk? ’Fraid we can’t get far, unless we get out of this bus pretty quick.”
Burk’s head appeared in the opening. Jake did not dare turn around, and so did not see that his partner’s face was drawn with pain. “It’s—no use, I guess, old man.”
“Why, we’ve been in worse places than this! Soon as we get a bit farther along, we’ll hop out and take to the hills again!”
Burk shook his head. “We can’t make it. Only thing to do is—pull up and wait for them.”
“Come, Burk,” Jake protested; “we’re not far from Canoe Mountain now! We’ll desert this car and run for it again!”
“Can’t do it, son. Not a quitter—but I couldn’t run very far. Some of that shot caught me in the leg. I—I——”
“What?” Jake shoved on the brake, and the caravan rattled to a standstill at the side of the road. He scrambled through the curtain, and stared at Burk’s blanched face. “Let me see—did they get you bad? I didn’t stop to think they might—— It was that fellow Diker with them; I knew him right off.” He was rolling up the corduroy trousers on Burk’s right leg as he spoke.
“Whew! Looks bad; right in the calf of the leg. But it might be worse. Do you see anything around I could use for a bandage?”
Burk shook his head again. “Don’t bother. The prison people will be along in a minute, and they’ll take care of us. Too bad it had to break this way; why, we can see Canoe Mountain from here.”
“How far is it?” Jake’s tone was filled with eagerness.
“Only about five miles to the lodge. You take the road that leads out from Apple Hill, just a little ways down here a piece. At the top of the first mountain, you turn right on a short lane that goes straight to the lodge. But why?”
“Listen,” said Jake Utway swiftly; “can I leave you here all right? I can see your wound is pretty bad, and you couldn’t walk a step with that leg; but I’m still lively enough. We’re not licked yet. I’m going on!”
Jake peered out the back of the caravan. Their enemies were not in sight yet. Burk waved his hand in feeble protest.
“The game’s up, old fellow. What could you do at——”
“I don’t know, Burk. But I’m going anyway. I want to have a look at that hunting lodge of yours. The prison bunch will take care of you I know. Now, before I leave you, tell me—have you been able to remember anything about where you might have put that necklace?”
The man groaned softly. “I’m afraid not. I’ve tried and tried—but I guess it’s hopeless.”
There was not a minute to waste. Jake jumped to the ground. “So long, Burk! I’ll be seeing you again. Cheer up!” he called gently, and began hiking at a fast gait up the road toward the little village of Apple Hill.
A forlorn hope, if there ever was one, Jake Utway told himself as he hastened toward the nearing cluster of houses that marked the crossroads town. Of the four of them who had faced the new day in heartsome spirits, he alone was the only one still uncaught. First Sherlock, then Jerry, and now Burk—one, two, three!—one after another they had sacrificed their liberty in order that the venture should go forward. And it should go forward, to the very end, Jake promised himself. Canoe Mountain or bust! It was part of playing the game, to keep on and on toward the goal, as long as breath was left to struggle ahead——
A boy in overalls was riding slowly toward him on a bicycle. Jake halted and waved his arm at the oncoming lad, who pulled to a stop, and eyed him suspiciously.
“Hello, kiddo,” smiled Jake. “Where do you live?”
The boy scuffed the toe of his shoe into the dirt beside the road, and gaped with open mouth before answering. He jerked a grimy thumb to the right. “Yonder.”
“Want to make some money?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Huh?”
“I said, do you want to make a little extra money? Listen; I have to go somewhere pretty quick. Lend me that bike of yours for a couple hours, and I’ll pay you.”
“Naw.”
Jake fished in his pocket and pulled out all the cash he had been able to bring with him. “Look! There’s almost four dollars there. Four bucks, just for letting me ride your old bike for a little while! I promise to bring it back in good shape.” The farmer lad shook his head. Jake jingled the money in his palm. “You won’t have another chance to make money this easily!”
The boy pointed a finger at Jake’s scout knife, which he had drawn from his pocket with the money. “What kinda knife’s that?”
Time was getting short. “That’s a swell knife—look at all the blades it’s got,” said Jake desperately. “Tell you what—I’ll give you the knife and all this money too, if you let me borrow your wheel for just an hour or two!”
The added attraction of the knife was enough to sway the smaller boy’s mind. He snatched it and the coins from Jake’s hand, and then slowly climbed down off his bicycle.
“You’re making a good swap, kid,” said Jake, gripping the handlebars. He was surprised to find that the boy, as though he had suddenly changed his mind, was clinging to the bicycle with determination. “Say, what’s the matter?”
The boy shook his head. A thought had just occurred to him. “How do I know you’ll bring it back? Maybe you’ll bust it, or I’ll never see you again!”
Jake’s patience was rapidly giving out. “Look here!” he said. “You haven’t got sense enough to take my promise. Well, see this mackinaw I’m wearing? It’s a good coat, and worth two or three measly bikes like this one!” He slipped off the garment, and held it out. “Here, take it. You can keep that until I bring your bike back safe, just to show you I’m not trying to steal anything. Do you get that?” The boy looked at the coat, then at the money and knife in his hand. Jake tucked the coat under the lad’s arm. “All right. You keep the mackinaw, and in a little while I’ll bring this back to that red house over there—that’s where you live, isn’t it?—and get back my coat.”
Before the boy could change his mind or offer further objection, Jake climbed into the saddle and began pedalling down the road toward Apple Hill. He had not gone far when he heard a shout behind him, as if the boy had already doubted the wisdom of his transaction; but he increased his speed, and was shortly amid the houses of the town.
He found the road to Canoe Mountain without any trouble, and speeded off to the westward. Only a few miles away the low blue line of the hills, bristling with pine and spruce trees on the skyline, pointed his goal. About half a mile after he had left Apple Hill behind, the asphalt paving ended, and the road became a dusty and rutted stretch of dirt. A fine powder, stirred up by his progress, settled on his clothing, coated his face and choked his nostrils. Yet he kept on, pedalling as hard as he could go.
Some three miles on his way, he came to the span of a concrete bridge, which carried the road across a slowly-moving stream. Jake dismounted, and wheeled the bicycle beneath the bridge, where a grassy bank spread invitingly in the sunshine of the late afternoon. It was warm there, and restful.... He needed a bit of rest, to get his breath back.
Jake stretched his limbs out luxuriously. His hunger made him feel a little light-headed. He closed his eyes for a moment to shut out the bright sun. Burk—Jerry—the prison guard—hungry....
He awoke with a start. It was late. The sun was almost down, now; there was a misty chill in the air beside the slowly-gliding brook. He jumped up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. What had happened? The bicycle lying at his side brought his memory back again. For several precious hours he had been sleeping; he could have been at Canoe Mountain Lodge by this time! Hurriedly he pulled together his scattered wits, and climbed to the road. The coast was clear. He pushed the bicycle up the embankment, mounted, and once more was riding toward the hills that loomed darkly before him in the dusk.
Timberlands began to line the road now. Night was dropping its curtain over the countryside; lights twinkled in far-off farmhouses in the valley. He was soon aware that the road was rising steadily; he was on the mountainside, surrounded by dark thickets and ghostly trees; an uncanny, haunted feeling came over him. He could hardly see the road before him; he felt for his flashlight, and smothered an exclamation. He must have left his light in the pocket of his mackinaw, now in the possession of the boy back at Apple Hill.
The road was now too steep for riding; all the strength of his muscles could not drive the machine forward. He jumped off, and began a slow trudge upward, trundling the bicycle beside him.
It took him fully half an hour to reach the summit of the mountain. The hunting lodge could not be far away now. If his venture was a wild goose chase, at any rate that chase would soon be at an end.
The weariness of his journey had blotted out all sense of reality; he did not even think of the hopelessness of burglarizing a strange house and searching there for evidence of an incident which had happened more than twelve months ago.
His feet sounded hollowly on some sort of wooden steps. They must lead up to the door of the lodge! He leaned his bicycle against a rustic railing, and stumbled wearily across the resounding boards of a porch. If only he had his flashlight! But no matter—— This must be the door. His hand sought out the latch, and he started back in surprise. It was open!
Could anyone be within? But no, there were no lights showing anywhere about the place. Some carelessness, no doubt. He pushed lightly on the door; it gave before his hand, and he stepped over the threshold, into a room.
Jake Utway tried to scream, but a lump had risen in his throat, and he could not get the words out. In a far corner of the strange room a red coal, like a cigar-end, glowed and died. A freezing paralysis of fear ran down his spine; in his ears pulsed loudly the pounding beat of his heart.
“Come right in, son,” said a voice that was horribly jovial. “You’re a bit late. But you’ve come at last.”
The door slammed behind him like the crack of judgment. Some heavy body had thrown itself against the panels, and now stood ready to bar his way. All the hazardous escapes of his flight from Lenape had been of no avail. From this last, dark trap there was no escape.
“Don’t move!” warned the Voice from the dark. “You can light up the lamp now, Frank.”
The man at Jake’s back felt his way a few yards to the left. The sound of a match scratched on the sole of a shoe came to Jake’s ear; a tiny yellow flame blossomed, was held to the wick of an oil-lamp. The man called Frank replaced the glass chimney of the lamp, and stepped back to his post by the door.
“Sit down, bud. You must be tired.”
Jake Utway stared across at the speaker. His new enemy sat in an armchair by a dead fireplace, calmly smoking a cigar and smiling easily.
“You’re Jake, aren’t you?” he went on. “You look so much like your brother that I feel I know you already. But no tricks, mind!” he chuckled. “That brother of yours has fooled us enough for one day—throwing the keys of the car away, just when he saw his chance to help you.”
Never taking his eyes from the smiling man, Jake sank into a chair.
“That’s right! We’ll be heading back in a few minutes; might as well get your breath before we go. Now, Jake, you can tell me just exactly what you expected to do here at this lodge.”
“Who are you, sir?” Jake countered.
“I suppose you didn’t see me in the car when we stopped your covered wagon up the road. I happen to be warden of the Elmville Penitentiary—your friend Burk escaped from my charge, and naturally I wanted to get him back again.”
“How is he—Burk?”
“Oh, don’t you worry about him! He got a few buckshot in the leg, but we bandaged him up, and he’ll be walking around as good as ever in a day or two. He’s gone back with Diker and your brother some time ago.”
“Who told you I was coming here?” demanded Jake.
“Burk himself. Told me you’d been good to him, and he didn’t want you to come to harm. Very earnest about it, too. Yes, I must say I’m learning a lot about our friend Burk in these last few days.”
Jake considered. “Have you found out that he’s not a thief?” he asked boldly.
Again the man smiled, wearily. “You’re pretty young, Jake. I admit Burk was always well-behaved when he was serving his time, and he looks like a decent sort. No doubt he told you a yarn that sounded convincing enough—why, every man at Elmville can make himself out to be a saint, if you give him a chance! But I have yet to find any proof that John Burk was not given every benefit of the doubt when his case was tried at law.”
Jake struggled upright, his eyes blazing. “It—it might be law, but is it justice? Why, sir, he—he——” The boy fell back, his strength spent. The warden jumped up and came to his side.
“Here, son—you must be worn out! Frank, get that thermos bottle of hot chocolate from the car, and have that caretaker make up some sandwiches.” He patted Jake’s shoulder. “Bet you haven’t had a thing to eat to-day. No wonder you look worn out.”
The boy closed his eyes. “I am tired, I guess. But I really mean it, sir. Burk didn’t steal that necklace any more than I did.”
“All right. Don’t talk any more now. We’ll have some hot food for you in a minute.”
The man resumed his seat, and began puffing on his cigar in silence. As the minutes passed, Jake looked about him. The room seemed to be the main hall of the hunting lodge. Over the fireplace he made out a dim shape, the mounted head of a large buck deer. The walls were hung with Indian blankets; a case of books stood in one corner, and a rack of guns and fishing-rods in another. The place was fitted out in rough comfort, and at another time Jake might have delighted in examining everything which the sportsmen who owned the club had collected. As it was, he waited motionless until Frank reappeared with a steaming cup of chocolate, some sandwiches, and a dish of hot soup.
“Feel better now?” the warden asked, as Jake swallowed the last of the heartening liquid. The man had removed his hat, and Jake could now see that his hair was snow-white. “If you’re ready for a ride, there’s nothing to keep us here any longer.”
“But—but, sir, give me a chance to explain!” The warm food had brought back much of Jake’s strength, and with it his fighting spirit. If they departed from Canoe Mountain Lodge now, there would never be another opportunity to clear up the mystery of the necklace, and Burk would be worse off than before. Here, if anywhere, lay the heart of that mystery, and although Jake Utway had no clear idea as to the way of its solution, he felt that the walls of the lodge must contain some clue that would lead them to the truth.
The warden shook his head patiently. “You fellows have risked everything to get to this place, but Burk himself confessed to me awhile ago that he had no definite aim in view, except to hunt around some more for that necklace. What can you know that he doesn’t know?”
Jake stood up. Strength was flooding back into his aching body, and he spoke with a confidence that could not fail to impress the white-haired man. It was a confidence based not upon reason, but upon the boy’s feeling that Burk had spoken the truth. Into his mind flashed the picture of that night of storm across the lake from the Lenape dock; he could almost see the convict’s drawn face, and hear the earnest ring of his voice as he told his story to his two young captors——
“Mr. Warden,” he began, “I feel sure that you know there’s something strange about this case of Burk’s; otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken so much trouble to talk to him after you caught him, or to come here and wait for me. You believe that the law is right, but you’re not sure in your mind that a mistake hasn’t been made; and you want to be fair to Burk and give him a chance to prove that there has been a mistake. Isn’t that right?”
The jollity of the warden’s face dropped from it like a mask. He leaned forward, and his cigar dropped from his fingers.
“That might be so, son. But——”
“You’ve asked yourself: Why didn’t Burk get far away from this part of the country when he had the chance? Why did he risk getting caught, as he was caught, simply to come here to Canoe Mountain, if he knew he was guilty?”
The warden leaned back again. “That’s easily explained, Jake. Many times a man will give way to temptation, and steal something of great value. Even if he’s caught, he will refuse to tell where he has hidden the thing, hoping that when he gets out of prison he will be able to come back, take the object from its hiding-place, and sell it for what he can get. Burk knew where he had hidden the necklace, and was coming back to get it.”
“Suppose I could prove to you that Burk didn’t know where he put it?”
The man smiled, and shook his head. “That would be a mighty hard thing to prove. But if you could do that, and the necklace was restored to its owner, it might make some difference——”
“All right. Now, here’s another thing. Why should Burk steal that necklace? He had never done anything like that before. He had a good job, which he liked, and as caretaker here had been in a position of trust. He must have known that he would be caught at once. He might have run away with the pearls in Mr. Collinge’s absence; but he was still here, and didn’t try to get away. He has said all along that he was innocent. The disappearance of the necklace has brought him nothing but trouble. Why should he risk ruining his whole life to take it?”
“You’d make a good lawyer, Jake!” the man said slowly. “Hear that, Frank? The lad is convincing me in spite of myself. But you haven’t answered the big question, Bud: What did happen to that necklace?”
“I’m coming to that.” Jake’s words were coming out in a rush now. He must make them understand; he must prove to them that his friend Burk, by this time no doubt back again in his hated cage, was blameless of this crime. “What happened to the necklace? The answer is: Burk was sick. Have you ever had the ’flu? Then you can picture what happened to him that day. He was out of his head. His one thought must have been to put the thing in a safe place, and then lie down on his bed in peace. Can you blame him for not being able to remember what he had done, or where he hid the thing?”
“But why wasn’t it found?” the man asked quickly. “A valuable thing like a necklace doesn’t disappear so easily. And the case was well-known; why, I’ll venture to say that this whole place here has been gone over with a fine-tooth comb at least a dozen times in the past year! And as far as we know, the necklace has never been found.”
Jake cast his eyes about the large room, noting where several doors led off to the back of the lodge. “Tell me, sir,” he said at last; “if the necklace could be found, and if it could be proved that Burk was sick and didn’t know what he had done with it—that he had hidden it for safekeeping, and not for his own gain—would Burk be set free?”
“I could safely say,” said the warden, “that if such was the case, the facts would be put before the Pardon Board, and I myself would make a point of urging that Burk be released. But you can see for yourself that it’s an almost impossible job. Now, let’s forget all this foolishness, and start back. It’s getting late.”
Jake did not move. “Did you say that the man who is now the caretaker is in back somewhere?”
“Yes, he is, but——”
“Could I talk to him, please?”
The warden opened his mouth as if to object, but thought better of it, and in a forbearing tone asked the chauffeur, Frank, to call the caretaker.
The latter must have been just outside the door, in the kitchen of the lodge, for he shambled in at once, looking with curious eyes at the strangers who had invaded his domain in the name of the law. He was a bent little man, with a drooping brown mustache, and he stood in silence, resting on one foot, waiting for someone to speak.
Jake faced him. “Can you show me the room where Burk used to sleep, when he was working here?”
The caretaker darted a look at the warden, who motioned for him to answer. “Wal, yes, guess I can. Sleep there myself; my room now.”
He led the way toward the rear of the building, and the others followed, with Frank bearing the oil-lamp behind them. The room which they entered lay in the far corner of the lodge, a narrow little place with brown boarded walls, within which there was barely space enough for a small cot-bed, a chair, and a tiny dresser. The warden surveyed the room curiously, but Jake went straight to the bed, and turned down the covers. Then he wheeled on the caretaker.
“Is this bed the same as when Burk was here?” he asked sharply.
“Wal, just about. Covers are the same, mostly, but that there’s a new mattress I just got last week.”
“Where’s the old mattress?”
“Chucked it outside on the woodpile. Why?”
Jake Utway did not pause to reply. In an instant he was into the hall, racing through the lighted kitchen, and out the back door.
“Stop him!” shouted the warden. “Get him, Frank! It’s another trick!”
But Jake had gone no farther than the woodpile. In the light that streamed from the open kitchen window, he was feeling about among the wreckage of a worn-out cotton mattress, which had been thrown upon the heap of firewood in the rear of the lodge. Frank, still carrying the lamp, held his arm until the warden and the caretaker joined them.
“Let me go!” cried Jake impatiently. “Hold that lamp down closer, will you? I can’t see very well——”
“What in the world——” began the warden. His words were cut short. Jake had found a short slit in the heavy striped ticking that encased the stuffing of the old mattress. His hand slid through; he felt about for a moment, and drew his hand out again. In the yellow light of the lamp, everyone could see the object which dangled from his clenched fingers. A short string of gleaming, milky-white bubbles flashed before the astounded eyes of the three men.
“It was a long guess, but it was right!” exclaimed Jake Utway in triumph. “Here’s the pearl necklace, safe and sound! Burk wouldn’t have put it away in a place like this, if he hadn’t been sick, and it was the first place he thought of hiding them! And now, Mr. Warden—I’ll hold you to your promise to do all you can to set John Burk free!”
Jake Utway woke from a restless doze as the car bumped over the rough road behind Camp Lenape. He looked about him with sleep-sodden eyes as the driver, Frank, drew up outside the lodge. There was a light in the Chief’s office, and the Chief himself must have heard the noise of their motor, for he appeared at once, holding up a lantern so that he could see the newcomers.
His face lighted up as he saw Jake, huddled in the back of the machine beside the warden of Elmville.
“Well, there you are at last!” he exclaimed with a sigh of relief. “Jerry has been in bed for an hour, and I stayed up on the chance that I might hear something of you. Now that you’re really here, I admit that a big load is off my mind.” He turned to the warden. “I don’t know how to thank you, sir, for picking up the boys as you have done. I’m sorry that two Lenape fellows have caused you so much trouble.”
“No trouble!” cried the warden genially. “Now, let’s not keep young Jake here away from his bed any longer with all our talk. He’s earned a good night’s sleep.”
“That so? Well, hop along, Jake. We’ll talk this over with you and your brother in the morning.”
The words sounded ominous, but Jake was too tired to worry about what the morning would bring. He stumbled off toward Tent Ten, hardly aware of what he was doing; but as he left, he heard the Chief invite the two men into the lodge for a cup of coffee, and the three of them disappeared into the building talking together in confidential tones. Jake fell like a log upon his bunk, without taking off any of his stained garments; but Mr. Avery was awake, and soon tucked the worn-out boy between his blankets.
The next morning, after breakfast, the Utway twins stood outside the door of the Chief’s office with beating hearts. They had not been given any chance to speak to each other since their separate returns to camp late the previous night; and now that they were back in the familiar scenes of Lenape, their wild adventure seemed like a mad dream. How could they have run away from camp without thinking of the worry and trouble that this disobedient act would cause their leaders and the Chief?
Jerry knocked shakily upon the door. At the call of “Come in!” the two culprits entered the office and stood waiting for judgment.
They could not read the look on the Chief’s face as he stood regarding them quizzically. “We-ell!” he said slowly, and paused.
“We—we’re sorry, Chief!” blurted out Jerry. “We didn’t think about making a lot of trouble for you and our leaders. We just wanted to help—— But I guess it’s no use trying to tell how we felt about it.”
“Do you think you did right in leaving Lenape without telling anybody?”
Jerry shook his head miserably.
“What about you, Jake?”
“I’m sorry too, Chief. We thought we were helping Burk, but maybe we were wrong. When you put it up to us that way, it makes us feel as if we—we——”
The man nodded. “I could talk to you for an hour about camp discipline, and it wouldn’t mean as much to you as those words of yours mean, boys. Your own consciences are better judges than I could ever hope to be. And I won’t say that you didn’t have some excuse. As things have turned out, no harm has been done, luckily for you.”
The Chief tapped with a pencil on his desk for an instant, and then began speaking softly, almost to himself.
“I talked with the warden last night after you went to bed, Jake. And he said several things about you boys which I won’t repeat; but he made me see that Lenape hasn’t done all it might do for you two. From now on, I shall expect you to use all your extra energy in being better campers. You both have lots of pep, and in Burk’s case your efforts turned out to be of great value. Keep on putting that pep to work to help the other fellow at Lenape! You know how to do it.”
He rose with a smile, and held out his hand. The twins straightened, and looked their leader full in the eyes. “Thanks, Chief,” said Jerry huskily. “We’ll try.”
“We sure will!” added Jake.
Silently the Chief took their hands, and gave each a hearty grip.
“Oh, by the way, boys,” he said, as they turned to go, “I have some news for you. Last night the warden told me some things about this fellow Burk that interested me a lot. When he’s free again, as he should be if the warden means what he says, I shouldn’t be surprised if I could find a job around camp where Burk might be of use.”
Jake and Jerry Utway held back their feelings until they were almost out on the porch. Then they broke loose.
“Hurray for Chief!” they shouted. “Yay, Chief! Yay, Lenape!”
The hospital tent was full to overflowing with laughing boys. In the midst of them, clad in pajamas, Sherlock Jones sat up in a comfortable white bed, leaning back on his pillows with sparkling eyes. Now and then he paused in his talk to blow his long nose resoundingly, but otherwise seemed none the worse for his adventure on the mountain and his wetting in the brook when the hounds were on his trail. He was the center of interest, and it was plain to be seen that he was enjoying his brief moment in the limelight of fame.
About him sat or stood all the members of the Tent Ten group, and a number of other boys who listened joyously to his tale. Chink Towner and Wild Willie Sanders perched at the foot of his bed; Fat Crampton, with wide eyes and open mouth, hung upon his words; Steve Link was there, and Sunfish Linder, and Spaghetti Megaro, and many others.
“And were you scared when those big bloodhounds jumped up at the tree and tried to get you?” piped up little Pete Lister.
“Say, I hung on and said my prayers!” answered Sherlock amid laughter. “But pretty soon along came a man named Harris, and he chained ’em up, and after that it was all right.”
“But how did Jake and the man get away so quick?” asked Soapy Mullins.
“You’ll have to ask him that.”
“I tried to ask him this morning,” put in Lefkowitz, “but he wouldn’t tell me a thing. But he came to camp real late last night; I was awake and saw him get here.”
“We’ll know all about it pretty soon,” observed Gil Shelton, who was sitting on the steps of the tent. “Here they both come now, up from the lodge. Guess they want to see you, Sherlock.”
Sherlock drew forth his handkerchief. “I used to think I was some punkins as a detective,” he announced, “but I’ll say right here that the Utway twins have got it all over me when it comes to solving mysteries. From now on, I resign! A thousand mysteries can happen around this camp, and I won’t lift my little finger!”
A low cheer broke forth as the two brothers stepped into the shadow of the tent-house. “Yay, Jake! Yay, Jerry!”
Jake grinned. “Hello, Sherlock, old boy! How have you been since I last saw you? Get down that tree all right?”
Sherlock smiled back. “I’m all right. How are you two?”
“We’re cinders,” announced Jerry. “We’ve just been listening to the Chief, and boy, we’re never going to run away from camp again! From now on, I’m going to be the best little boy you ever saw. And I really mean it. I felt like a penny waiting for change after the Chief got through talking. Man, I’d sooner get pinched by the cops ten times, than have the Chief look at me like that again!”
“You said it,” added Jake. “I’d rather get shot at ten times than feel as low as I did just now. But the Chief is one grand fellow. He made us see how wrong we were to run away from Lenape the way we did, but he knew what really happened, and said he hoped Burk would get his pardon soon, and that he’d find a job around camp for Burk to do when he got out!”
“But what did happen?”
“How did Burk get caught?”
“Where were you all the time?”
Questions rose from a dozen clamorous throats, and the crowd of excited campers closed in about the two brothers.
“Well,” said Jerry slowly, “it’ll take a long time to tell. We were only away from camp for one day, but boy, what a day!”
“It seemed like a hundred years!” agreed Jake. “And say, wasn’t that farmer kid surprised when we drove up last night and I gave him back his bicycle! Guess he thought he had my mackinaw for keeps!”
“That reminds me,” said Jerry. “I’ll have to write to that storekeeper down at Wallistown to send mine back. But you fellows will have to get Jake to tell the story. He’s the one that did everything, and got to Canoe Mountain. I got nabbed before we were half-way there.”
“Yeah!” said Jake scornfully. “I wouldn’t have got very far if you hadn’t seen us in the gypsy flivver, and hadn’t thrown away the keys to the warden’s car. And it was your idea for us to go to Canoe Mountain in the first place.”
“That wasn’t anything. But I call it real smart of you to figure out that Burk had stowed away those pearls in his mattress!”
“Listen, Jerry Utway!” said Jake, and there was a glint in his bright blue eyes. “We found Burk together, and we never could have put it across if we hadn’t been working together all the time. Sherlock here helped a lot, too, although he didn’t know it. Now, for goodness sake, nail up that trap of yours until you can say something with some sense to it!”
“I will not!” answered Jerry stoutly. “You’re a hero, that’s what you are—a bloomin’ hero!”
“I’m not! Don’t call me names! Take that back!”
“You are, too! I won’t take it back. You’re a bloomin’ hero!”
Jake seized a heavy hot-water bottle that lay at the foot of Sherlock’s bed, and wielded it threateningly. The circle of boys widened about the two brothers, and laughing campers nudged each other and winked. For almost a week now, the Utway twins had been strangely peaceable. They had been driven by the mystery that had surrounded Camp Lenape to join forces and forget their brotherly strife in a common cause and in the face of a common danger. But now that they were back home again at Lenape, a friendly little battle might clear the air, make them feel themselves once more.
“That’s the boy, Jake!” urged Chink Towner. “Give him the works!”
“Key down, you Chinaman!” cried Jake. “I know what I’m doing.” Again he wielded the hot-water bottle menacingly, hefting it as if on the point of hurling it full at his brother. “Now, Jerry, you take that back!”
“You’re a hero, a bloomin’ hero!” chanted Jerry, tauntingly.
“And you’re another!”
“And you’re his brother!”
Sherlock Jones flashed a mock-terrified glance at the two embattled brothers.
“Help!” he cried, and slid down into the bed, pulling the covers protectingly over his head. “The Utway twins are at it again!”
THE END