And now, new sources of dread began to assail him. The sun had crept around so that its scorching rays fell full upon the face of the cliff above, and this aroused Gus to the fact that he was beginning to get exceedingly thirsty. Once he allowed himself to think of this, he imagined that his tongue was trying to cling to the roof of his mouth for lack of a drink. Yes, and he even remembered reading a short time before of the terrible sufferings a boat load of shipwrecked people endured while adrift on the heaving ocean.
Supposing that no one appeared on the road below during the whole afternoon, how was he going to pass the coming night? He would not dare go to sleep for fear that he might roll from his insecure lodgment, unless he took the precaution to fasten himself with the friendly rope, which he was beginning to look upon as his most valued possession.
More time elapsed, during which Gus was recovering in some degree from the fatigue following his desperate battle with the eagle. He could still see the big bird perched on that lower crag, and he noticed, not without more or less savage satisfaction, that it seemed to be preening its feathers, paying particular attention to the drooping wing which had come in contact with the rock.
“For two cents, I’d start bombarding you, and see if you could fly,” he told the bird, as he shook his fist in that quarter, “but I suppose that would be a silly move, because if it turned out that the wing wasn’t broken after all, you might take a notion to start at me again. So I guess I’ll call it off, and try to forget all I owe you, old chap. Hello! what’s that I hear? Sounds as if a machine of some kind might be coming away off yonder!”
He strained his ear to better catch the sounds. As the fickle breeze came and went, he managed to make out that the queer rattle kept getting distincter each moment. This would indicate that whatever was giving vent to the sounds must be approaching, and not going the other way.
The boy prisoner on the rocky ledge began to thrill with excitement.
“But really, I never heard a car act like that,” he muttered as he heard the peculiar throbbing again welling up from below. “It might be the exhaust of a motorboat or of a motorcycle, only—oh! there were three of them at the inn. Yes, it must be those scouts heading up this way!”
At first, the very thought of possibly owing his rescue to Hugh Hardin and his two chums of the saddle, gave Gus a feeling of chagrin. If he had his choice, very naturally he would have much preferred that some stranger pull him up from the predicament in which a cruel fortune had thrust him. But then, after all he had gone through, the boy’s pride had been sadly battered, and he did not feel like looking a gift horse in the mouth. So long as he escaped from this miserable trap, he felt that he would be foolish to draw distinctions. Besides, somehow he did not seem to feel quite the same way toward the scouts as before. When worn by those who were in a position to do him a great favor, those jeered-at khaki uniforms might look even friendly.
And so, Gus Merrivale kept tabs on the dusty road far below, eagerly waiting to catch the first glimpse of the coming party.
As he looked, he suddenly saw a swiftly moving object appear around a bend in the road, the sun’s rays glinting from polished steel and nickeled parts. It was one of the trio of scouts on his motorcycle, and heading directly toward the base of the cliff!
Filled with excitement, Gus made a megaphone out of both hands by cupping them, and shouted at the top of his lusty voice.
“Hello! hello! Help! help!”
He was pleased to see that the rider of the flashing wheel must have heard his loud call by the way he turned his head upward. Gus immediately started waving his handkerchief, somewhat after the fashion he remembered seeing a scout do with his signal flag, and which, at the time, he had only thought was a silly procedure.
“He sees me! He lifted his hand and waved it!” the prisoner of the ledge exclaimed, thrilled with delight. “It’s going to be all right after all! If only I can make them understand that they’ve got to get above so as to pull me up.”
By now he had discovered a second and then a third speeding motor flash around the curve. Undoubtedly, the pacemaker must have made some prearranged signal, for the others immediately cut down their speed, and a minute later jumped from their saddles at the spot where the first rider had dismounted.
He was pointing upward toward the ledge, and the eager Gus was able to catch a few words that came trailing through space.
“What happened to you?” Hugh Hardin was shouting, also making use of his hands in order to help his voice along.
“On a ledge—can’t get up or down—follow the road to log rail, and get me out of this—Gusty Merrivale—been stopped on the road and robbed!” was what the one above shouted down to them.
No doubt his words created something of a sensation, for he could see the three scouts putting their heads close together as though conferring. Then once more Hugh, who was looked upon as the leader by his comrades, called out.
“All right—hold the fort a little while longer—we’re coming up as fast as we can get there—take things easy—we’ll sure yank you up off that ledge—so-long!”
Without wasting another minute, the speaker was seen to straddle his machine and start off, the others following his example shortly afterward.
With a warmer feeling in his heart toward the scouts than he had ever known before, Gus watched them shooting toward the foot of the rise. Now and then he would lose sight of this rider or that one, and for several minutes he could only trace their progress by the dust that arose. Then the last fellow had vanished from view. He knew from the sounds that came occasionally to his ears that they were climbing the ascent which had tried his little runabout’s powers to the utmost.
It seemed a terribly long wait to the impatient boy. He tried to pass the time away by picturing to himself how he would immediately start off after those bold hoboes who had held him up on the road, evidently knowing that he was due with the money to settle with the quarry workers on the semimonthly pay day.
“Hello, down there, Gusty! We’re here on deck, and ready to give you a helping hand!” called out a voice from directly above. The boy, aroused from his train of thought, looking directly up, saw a friendly face, which he immediately recognized as belonging to Hugh Hardin, the leader of the Wolf Patrol.
Immediately another countenance appeared alongside, this time being the rosy one of Billy Worth, nor was the third scout long in showing up near by.
“How can you get me up there?” asked Gus anxiously. Now that another crisis in his affairs had arrived, he began to feel dubious again.
“I’m trying to figure it out,” the other replied. “If it comes to the worst, we can use a sapling that I noticed lying alongside the road below here, and have you climb up that.”
“Oh! that same sapling has already played a part in my troubles!” exclaimed the boy below, with something like a smile, “and perhaps it would be only evening it up if you used it to get me out of here. But I’ve got a mighty lame shoulder, you see. I had a fight with that eagle over there on that stone cap, and I reckon I nearly broke his wing, but first he gave me some ugly clips. Why, I had to tie myself to the rock with this piece of rope so I wouldn’t be knocked off!”
“Did you say a rope?” quickly asked the scout leader.
“Yes, this short piece that the men lowered me down here with, and then threw after me, knowing that I couldn’t use it to get any further down the precipice,” and the boy on the shelf held it up as he spoke.
“Oh! that makes it as easy as falling off a log,” came from Hugh cheerfully. “All you have to do is to fix the loop under your arms, and when I lower a cord, tie it to the other end of your rope. Then we’ll get hold of it, and up you come!”
“That sounds good to me!” declared Gus, already warming toward the boy who it seemed was fated to become his rescuer.
A minute later and the dangling cord came within his reach, and as he had already made the noose secure around his body, Gus hastened to tie this to the end of his rope. He saw it mount speedily upward, and presently a shout from Billy announced that the rope had come into their hands.
“All ready there?” demanded the patrol leader. “Dead sure the loop will hold?”
“It did when they let me down,” replied Gus with the utmost confidence. “Please hurry up and begin. And be sure not to slip, because it’s pretty far down to the bottom. A fellow wouldn’t know what hit him if he took that drop.”
“Don’t worry about us!” said Billy Worth. “We’ve practiced this same thing many a time just for fun. You never can tell when it pays to know how to get a fellow out of a hole. Scouts learn all kinds of clever stunts, you know, Gusty. This one is going to help you a heap, seems like.”
Right then and there Gus Merrivale realized that he had been judging these boys from the wrong standpoint. Really, he had refused to give them credit for being other than a lot of silly chaps who wasted their time in camping out, and learning things that could never be of any earthly good to anyone. After this he was bound to look deeper into the movement. And his heart warmed toward Hugh and his chums in a way he would have never believed possible a few hours before.
The rope grew taut, and then he felt himself being lifted from the ledge, and steadily raised foot by foot. Presently he could reach up and catch hold of the lowermost log that served as a barrier alongside the mountain road to prevent accidents to vehicles coming down the grade.
It was with a thankfulness he could hardly find words to express that the boy was assisted over the railing, and found his feet firmly planted on the roadway. He drew a long breath of relief, possibly the very first that he had dared indulge in since being held up by those two brazen rogues. And then, urged by some better element in his nature, Gusty Merrivale grasped the hand of the patrol leader and squeezed it in his own, passing from Hugh to each of the other scouts.
CHAPTER V.
SEEING THINGS IN A NEW LIGHT.
“Now tell us what happened to you. We’re all wired up about it,” said Billy Worth when Gus had gone the rounds and shaken each of his rescuers most cordially by the hand, as though he meant them to feel that his gratitude was sincere.
“Yes, you said something that sounded like robbed, and we’ve been trying to figure out what it meant ever since,” added Monkey Stallings, who was really a late addition to the troop, though making his way up the ladder by leaps and bounds, being a lad eager to learn all the things of which a first-class scout must have a knowledge in order to obtain his badge.
“Well,” began Gusty with a whimsical grin, “it’s just this way. I’ve been sent up here several times twice a month to carry the money used to pay the hundred Italians and other foreigners working in our granite quarries. I guess somebody must have spotted me this time. Two men, who looked like tramps but who may have been worse than that, lay in wait for me just below here. They had that sapling fixed so that it crossed the road, and I couldn’t have got past even if I tried.”
“Gee! what d’ye think of that! And right here within twenty miles of Oakvale, too?” ejaculated Billy, his face expressing the most intense interest, “but excuse my interrupting you, Gusty. Please go on. You’ve got me chained fast. Stopped you on the road did they, and robbed you of the pay money?”
“When I managed to pull up, I was right on the tree they had thrown across the road,” continued the other. “At first the tall man pretended he was a country constable, meaning to arrest me because I was speeding, though of course, it was silly to think of such a thing away up here in the mountains. Then the other fellow showed up, and they let me know that they’d been waiting for me in order to steal the money I carried. I tried to jump into the runabout again to get hold of the gun dad makes me carry, but they battered me on the head, and nearly did me as you can see. In the end they lowered me to that ledge, so that I couldn’t get anywhere and give the alarm. Oh! I’ve been having the time of my life, let me tell you! But if they think they’re going to get away with this job so easy, they’re barking up the wrong tree. Now I’m out of that hole, I mean to get after them lickety-split.”
“How much of a start have they got?” asked Hugh soberly.
“Really I couldn’t tell you,” came the reply. “You see, that short rascal snatched my gold watch before they lowered me down the precipice. It seemed to me as if I must have been there for hours.”
“It was just a little more than an hour and a half ago that you left the tavern where we were waiting to be called to dinner,” Hugh told him. Gus expressed the greatest surprise, for he had never known time to drag so before.
“But let’s talk of what can be done to overtake those men and get back all they took from me,” he suggested doggedly.
“One of us might turn around and make a run for home to get the police on the track,” ventured Billy, “though it would be taking big chances to start me over that course, because I’m a bum rider so far, and apt to take a header if I get a little rattled.”
“How far away are the quarries you were making for, Gus?” asked Hugh.
“Oh, something like ten miles, I should say,” came the reply. “Too far to go for help. Besides, what good would a dozen or two of those wild Italian laborers be in a thief chase? Chances are the men would make a clean getaway. No, something else will have to be tried if we hope to bring them up with a round turn.”
“What’s to hinder the lot of us whooping after them, and finding some chance either to have them arrested, or perhaps do the job as slick as you please, while they sleep?” demanded Monkey Stallings, who came by his name through his faculty for doings all sorts of antics, from climbing greased poles that no other boy could mount, to hanging from lofty limbs of trees by his toes, and pretending to sleep that way, just as though he were a simian in truth.
“If you only would, it might turn out to be the grandest thing ever!” exclaimed the Merrivale boy, his face lighting up with sudden hope as he contemplated the shining motorcycles nearby, and remembered what wonderful things they were capable of accomplishing in the right hands.
“You see, we were making our way up to a camp where a few of our fellow scouts have been spending a week,” Hugh explained. “We declined to go along because we expected these machines to arrive, and were all fairly wild to get busy with them. And between ourselves we had secretly arranged to give the boys a big surprise after all of us got so we could ride fairly well. But you must know that it is a part of a scout’s education to give up his own pleasure whenever he can help anyone who is in trouble; and so, Gus, we will do what we can to assist you to recover your runabout, as well as the money they took from you.”
“That’s fine of you, Hugh!” declared the other boy, flushing with pleasure, as well as with shame at the recollection of how he had misjudged these splendid fellows in the past. “I’m beginning to get my eyes opened to a lot of things about this scout business, and if only you can help me out, I reckon I’ll just have to join the troop, no matter if I start in as the worst tenderfoot you ever saw.”
“Bully for you, Gusty!” cried the explosive Billy. “Take my word for it, you’ll never have any reason to regret the step if you do hitch up with the scouts. Fact is you’ll wonder how you ever got any fun in life before you knocked the scales off your eyes, and saw things everywhere around you. We know. Lots of us have been through the mill, haven’t we, Monkey?”
“We sure have, Billy,” answered the other solemnly, “and nothing could hire me to throw up my present job of gymnastic teacher to the troop. As to learning things, I’ve found out how to stow away a quarter more rations every meal by just watching you work your jaws, Billy.”
“We can follow after the runabout without much trouble once we examine the marks made by its tires in some muddy spot,” Hugh said, speaking directly to the boy who had been taken from the ledge, “because in nearly every case you’ll find there’s a distinctive mark about the track left by a rubber-shod wheel. I can tell the trail my motorcycle makes among a dozen; both the others have individualities about them that all of us have learned to recognize. And I expect you may have noticed something about the marks your car leaves that would tell you which road it took, in case we came to a fork?”
“Well, I don’t think I ever took the trouble to notice anything like that,” Gus confessed not without more or less confusion, as though he might already be beginning to realize how lacking in practical information his education was, “but now that you speak of it, there was a patch put on one of the rear tires that I should think would leave an impression something like a diamond. Of course, though, that wouldn’t show here where the road is rocky; but at the first chance we could watch out for it.”
Hugh looked at him with a half smile on his face.
“You talk as though you expected to go along with us, Gusty?” he observed.
“And to tell the truth I’m hoping you’ll ask me to hang on behind,” the other instantly replied. “You see, I’ve ridden a motorcycle before and I guess my shoulder isn’t so lame but what I could keep my seat. Those men treated me about as mean as they knew how, and I’ve been telling myself all along that, if only I could have a hand in their apprehension, it’d go a great way to evening things up. Do you reckon now, Hugh, that if you took me on behind it would go?”
His whole manner was so imploring that even had the patrol leader felt inclined to hesitate he must have found it very difficult to disappoint Gusty. It chanced, however, that Hugh knew more about a motorcycle than either of his chums, or both together for that matter. And he believed that if the other boy had the nerve to keep his seat he could take him along.
“I’m willing to make the try, anyhow, Gusty,” was what Hugh told him.
“Oh! thank you, thank you a dozen times, for you’ve made me feel ever so happy!” cried the Merrivale boy. Apparently he had made a clean sweep when he threw that pride of his overboard, for once again he reached out and shook the hand of Hugh, as though determined to look on him as his best friend. “And there’s one other thing you ought to know, because it may cut some figure in the chase.”
“What might that be?” asked Billy, evidently more or less relieved to know the patrol leader would not be wanting him to head back over their trail so as to carry the startling news of the hold-up to the authorities in distant Oakvale.
“I only took on five gallons of juice at the inn, you see,” continued Gusty, eager to advance any item, however small, that might have a bearing on the successful pursuit of the two bad men, “and I don’t believe there could have been much aboard at the time, either. So they couldn’t run more than twenty miles before it would give out. If they fail to take on a new stock, perhaps we might find my runabout abandoned on the road somewhere.”
“Either that, or wrecked,” suggested Monkey, “because every fellow who thinks he can run a car doesn’t succeed. I know, because it cost an uncle of mine a pile of hard cash to get his machine saved from the scrap heap after I’d turned over at the foot of a little hill where there was a sharp curve and lots of loose sand. See that scar under my hair—that makes me think of how hard a car can kick, every time I look at it when I’m brushing my locks.”
“If we mean to start this chase, we’d better be making a move,” Billy advised.
“The crown of the hill seems to be just a little way off,” said Hugh, “and so I think we ought to push our machines up the rest of the way, and mount for a coast down the grade. Once we reach the bottom where there’s a chance to find some moist clay, we’ll try scout tactics, and get a clew about that mended tire you spoke of, Gusty. Come on, boys!”
“I tell you fellows I’m feeling two hundred per cent. better already,” announced the boy who had been rescued from the ledge over the brow of the precipice. “If only we could lay those ugly scoundrels by the heels, I’d call it a thousand per cent. Your talking about tracking them by following the clew of my mended tire makes me see how much I’ve been missing all this while by thinking scouts were a foolish bunch of crack-brained boys, running after a leader like sheep after the bell wether. I guess I’m the chump after all who has allowed his prejudice to run away with his common sense. That’s all in the past, let me tell you. I’m beginning to see a great light, and this experience is going to change a lot of the ideas I’ve been hanging on to, believe me.”
While talking in this strain, the four boys were pushing up the rise. Just as the patrol leader had remarked, the crown of the hill was in plain sight only a little distance beyond where Gusty had met with his strange adventure and passed through an experience he would not be likely to forget soon.
Under ordinary conditions Gusty might possibly have consented to adopt a sling for his bruised arm, and even walk around for a day or two while playing the part of martyr, but there was no time for such nonsense. The prospect of overtaking the two thieves, and at least making some sort of effort to recover what they had stolen, gave him unexpected strength to endure the pain without even a grimace. Why, he stood ready to grit his teeth, and make light of worse conditions than this while the hope of turning the tables on those hoboes continued to brighten!
When the boys arrived at the brow of the hill, they could see how the road was beginning to dip. Hugh asked a few questions of Gusty, who had been over it a number of times before, and was therefore competent to give advice. He wished to make sure that no sudden bend would crop out to serve as a trap for inexperienced riders. When this point had been settled, Hugh had the fourth boy mount behind him, clasp his arms around his waist, and then the descent of the hill was begun.
CHAPTER VI.
TRACKING FROM THE SADDLE.
Hugh Hardin was accustomed to serving as pacemaker. Besides being leader of the Wolf Patrol, to which Billy also belonged, he had long ago been elected assistant scout master to the troop. When Lieutenant Denmead, a retired army officer who had taken great interest in the boys of the town, could not be present, Hugh served in his stead. Being a first-class scout, he had found no difficulty in securing his credentials to act in this important capacity from Boy Scout Headquarters off in New York City.
Consequently, when he led the procession of saddle boys down the slope of the ridge, he felt quite at home.
There was no attempt to make great speed. This would have been looked upon as the essence of folly on several accounts. In the first place there was good-natured Billy Worth who, being a novice with the motorcycle, was apt to get himself into trouble at any moment. Then they must remember that they were really tracking the two hoboes who had stolen the runabout as well as relieved Gusty Merrivale of the pay roll, which the Italian laborers up in his father’s quarries were anxiously expecting. And if these two reasons were not enough, there was the fact that the pacemaker was carrying double on his machine, which made things just a bit unwieldy.
Of course, there would be stretches along the road where they might reasonably expect to “hit her up,” as Billy was wont to say. These would occur where the ground happened to be fairly level, or slightly up-grade.
Nothing happened up to the time the boys arrived at the foot of the mountain. Hugh had not forgotten what he had said about taking a good look at the marks left by the tires of the runabout. He was desirous of seeing for himself what that diamond-shaped patch, mentioned by Gusty, would look like when reproduced in the soft soil at some point where moisture chanced to lie upon a low portion of the road, as, for instance, in the vicinity of some creek.
The opportunity came much sooner than he had hoped would be the case. There, a little way ahead, Hugh discovered that the road crossed some depression by means of a bridge. This would indicate the presence of a small stream, perhaps a mere thread of water in midsummer, but capable of becoming a boiling torrent when the Spring rains were on.
He immediately threw up his hand several times in a suggestive way, which was a part of the code of signals understood by both his chums. It meant that he intended slowing up, and possibly stopping short. Motorcycle riders as a rule go at such a pace that they seldom travel any other way than tandem; and it is expected of each fellow to keep a wary eye from time to time on the one ahead of him so as to discover any sign, which he is expected to pass on down the line. In this way accidents due to speed are usually avoided.
A minute later both the other boys had come to a halt. Leaving their machines alongside the road, they hurried to where both Hugh and Gusty were stooping down searching for a positive imprint of the mended tire of the runabout.
“Here’s a good impression,” remarked Monkey Stallings as soon as he arrived. He had the quickest eyes in the whole troop, and seemed able to discover things that it would have taken Billy many times as long to unearth.
“Couldn’t be better,” observed Hugh, hurrying to his side, “and, as usual, you’ve beaten us all out again, Monkey. How about this, Gusty? We’re looking at the sign of the patch, of course?”
“That was what I meant,” replied the other. “But, honest now, this is the first time I’ve so much as noticed what sort of a mark my old tire makes. I knew about the way the repair-shop man mended it, and that was all. Think we can recognize it if we see it again, do you, Hugh?”
Even Billy snorted at that, as he quickly exclaimed:
“If you knew more about how scouts are trained to use their eyes, ears, and ditto, their thinking boxes, you wouldn’t ask that, my friend. Why, one of the first of experiments a tenderfoot has to pass through, is to take a quick look in at a store window where scores of different things are on exhibition, go away and immediately write down all he can remember. The more exact he gets the higher his score. That influences him to begin to exercise his memory. It’s queer how a fellow can increase his powers that way. Why, my capacity has fairly doubled since I joined the scouts, and I surprise my folks every day by remembering things they promised to get for me away back.”
Monkey Stallings grinned as he caught Billy’s eye, and quietly observed:
“Now I’m real glad to hear that, Billy, because there’s some chance that you’ll even remember that quarter you borrowed from me ‘away back’ when we were on the train coming home from our trip with the Naval Reserve. I’d clean given up hope; but I know it’s all right now.”
“Take a good squint at this mark, everybody,” said Hugh, pointing down to where the wheel which had the mended tire had passed through a yard or two of clay, making a splendid impression. “We’ll want to look for it plenty of times as we go along, you understand.”
When all of them announced that they had it engraved indelibly on their mind’s eye, Hugh once more started off along the road.
“I’ll keep tabs on the right,” he had told Billy and Monkey before he left them, “while you two watch the other side of the road for any sign telling that the men turned in. There’s no saying what trick they may be up to, and we don’t want to go speeding along on a fool’s errand. Get that, both of you?”
“Sure we do, Hugh,” Billy replied. “Chances are they mean to cover a good many miles before they abandon the motor car.”
Gusty was in a position to speak whenever the spirit moved him, as his head came close to that of the one who sat in the saddle. They were as a rule going at quite a smart pace, and the dust was apt to get in his mouth whenever he opened it, so that he did not indulge in much useless talking.
Now and then, however, he would make some pertinent remark. This was usually in connection with the character of the road, or else had reference to the fact that a short distance ahead lay a hamlet which he remembered.
“There’s a road branches off from this one, too,” he went on to say, after giving this information, “and once I ran over it, having been told that while it didn’t pass through the little village it had a smoother surface. And my information was correct to the dot, because it joined this road further on.”
“If those men know the country as well as I think they do,” Hugh turned partly in his saddle to say, “they’ll as like as not take that same road, because it seems that after committing so daring a robbery they’ll want to keep out of sight as much as they can. Yes, I can see where the fork lies ahead,” and with that he held out his hand as a sign to the next in line, who happened to be Billy this time.
It proved that Hugh’s prediction was correct, for the runabout had certainly started into the other road. This would indicate that the pair of precious rascals must be pretty well acquainted with the section of country. It afterward turned out that the taller fellow had been raised not many miles away from the village which was being left in the rear. Perhaps he feared that some one might happen to recognize him if he went through the place, for some of these countrymen have long memories.
Further on they again came back to the road that led to the quarries. A mile or so beyond the junction, however, another turn was made. After that Gusty could not venture to give the least information, because they were now covering ground that was entirely new to him.
Hugh had already made up his mind on one score. This was to the effect that those whom they were pursuing must be heading for some place which they had knowledge of, and where they believed they would be fairly safe from discovery.
As the boys proceeded steadily along, the pacemaker became aware of another fact that began to give him increasing satisfaction. He and his two chums had been heading for the distant spot where some of their fellow scouts were in camp on an island in the river. These other boys had come a long way by means of a motorboat loaned to them by an enthusiastic gentleman of the home town, who, being abroad for the summer, desired to show his appreciation for the manly conduct of the scouts.
Hugh had a map of the country with him. He had never been over some sections of it, but, having made a study of topography, he believed that they were by degrees drawing nearer to the river, and would, if they kept on, strike it not far away from Raccoon Island, where Don Miller, leader of the Fox Patrol, had the boys in charge in the absence of others in authority.
When they made a brief halt in order to slake their thirst at a gurgling spring that gushed up alongside the road, Hugh put his comrades in possession of this astonishing bit of information. Naturally they were greatly pleased, especially Billy, whose merry face glowed with a sudden inspiring thought.
“Whee! talk to me about the luck of the Wolf Patrol!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t this just like the old story? Now, chances are those hobo footpads’ll go into hiding in the woods not three miles away from the island camp. What’s the answer? Why, we’ll send a signal to the boys that they’re wanted, and pretty soon one by one they’ll line up till we’ll be a baker’s dozen all told. I’m sorry for the poor wretches that took your runabout when that comes about, Gusty. You’ll get your first lesson on what it means to be a scout, when you see how we work this deal. Since Ralph Kenyon joined the troop, he’s shown up a heap of new things connected with woodcraft and the like. Even Hugh here has admitted that the boy who used to spend his winters trapping wild animals for their pelts so he could lay by a store of money to take him to the School of Mines some day, knew more’n he ever did. And there’s Arthur Cameron, Bud Morgan, Jack Durham, Spike Welling and a lot of other good fellows in camp up here, too. Hugh, I only hope she turns out like you say. Are we off again now?”
“Yes, and taking things fairly easy, too,” replied the leader as he straddled his machine, and waited for Gusty to get in position before starting. “If they expect to hide somewhere around this region, we’ll bump in on them soon enough. So, steady, everybody, from now on.”
While at the spring, he had taken out his road map and allowed all of them to see their location. The river was not many miles away, and this road crossed it by means of a bridge. Raccoon Island lay some distance above, where the stream widened and formed quite a shallow lake-like lagoon with wild borders, an ideal spot for a boys’ camp.
Billy managed to meet with some trifling trouble in making his getaway. This caused him to bring up the rear, a position he usually occupied, by the way, in most of their trips, for Billy was inclined to be sluggish in his movements, though his mind was active enough.
Motorcycles are splendid mounts to carry one swiftly along over fairly decent thoroughfares, but being more or less noisy, in spite of all efforts to stifle the explosions by means of the muffler, they can hardly be deemed just the thing to use when silence is necessary.
Hugh knew that if the men they were following had a camp near the road they would be apt to discover the approach of the boys long before he and his chums could lay any plans looking to their capture.
Accordingly, he had already decided in his own mind that whenever it looked as if the thieves were near the end of their journey, the noisy wheels would be temporarily abandoned, and the balance of the tracking necessary done afoot, where their knowledge of Indian tactics might be brought into successful play.
They could not have covered more than a mile, after leaving the cold spring at which they had refreshed themselves, when Monkey Stallings plainly heard a sound from the rear that announced the coming of some sort of trouble to the rider who brought up the tail end of the procession. Upon which, he instantly used his horn to let the leaders know that another halt must be called in order to assist Billy.
CHAPTER VII.
THE SUNKEN ROAD.
Hugh came running back, with Gusty trailing after him, quite as anxious as the rest to learn what had happened to the one bringing up the rear of the motorcycle procession.
They found Billy bending down and examining his machine with a woe-begone look on his good-natured face. He glanced up at their approach. Monkey Stallings was on the other side, and still searching for the cause of the trouble, though he did not know much more than the stout boy about the intricate construction of motors.
“What ails you now, Billy?” asked Hugh, for he did not have to be told that the individual in question was the cause of the breakdown.
“Wish I knew,” replied the other, dolefully, “that’s the trouble. You see I’ve noticed for some little time that I had to make more or less of an effort to keep my place in the line. While you fellows were gliding along as smooth as silk, my balky engine had to be coaxed and kicked to hold its own. And now, after that last little halt she’s gone back on me altogether. I keep losing ground right along, and would soon be hull down in the distance. That’s why I let out the toot for help.”
Hugh looked serious.
“It means a delay while we examine things,” he remarked, throwing off his coat as though getting ready for business.
“I’m sorry if I’ve gone and blundered again,” Billy continued sadly. “It would serve me just about right if the rest of you went on and left me to my fate.”
“Oh, rats, don’t mention it,” said Monkey indignantly. “What d’ye take us for, anyway? What’s the use of being a scout if you won’t hold out a helping hand to a comrade in distress? We’d expect you to do the same if one of our machines threw up the sponge, and sulked. Leave it to Hugh; he’ll bring you around O. K.”
That was an old story with the boys. “Leave it to Hugh” had become a sort of slogan with the members of the Wolf Patrol. Many a time had Billy, Bud Morgan, Arthur Cameron or some other member of the famous patrol, after trying in vain to solve a knotty problem, turned hopefully to the assistant scout master; and seldom had their sublime confidence in his ability to find a remedy been misplaced.
As Hugh began to use his little monkey-wrench, unfastening several nuts, and testing one thing after another, the others watched with considerable interest. Minutes crept on until it began to look as though they had lost nearly half an hour on the road. “Billy Wolf,” as he was often called by his chums, fretted terribly.
“Better leave me here while the rest of you go on,” he said for the fourth time. He had hardly gotten the words out of his mouth when he heard Hugh give a little satisfied chuckle.
“Located the trouble?” asked Monkey eagerly, with a triumphant glance toward Gusty, as though to say: “There! what did I tell you; Hugh is the boss hand to see through things, isn’t he?”
“After all,” explained Hugh, “it was a mighty simple thing, but it happened that I tried about seven other possible causes for a gradual slowing up of the motor before I reached the carburetor. Why, it was only the needle valve that stuck. I’ll have it working as good as ever in a jiffy; and you’ll not be bothered again from that cause in a hurry, Billy, old fellow.”
“Oh! was that it?” remarked the relieved Billy. “I began to think the whole business must be on the bum, and that I’d have to walk and push the plagued machine along with me to the village three miles back. Huh! believe me, I’ll keep an eye on that tricky valve after this. I may make lots of mistakes, but it’s seldom I tumble into the same old hole twice. I’m on, Hugh; I see how you do it. I’m learning something new every hour of the day. Seems like there’s an everlasting lot of things I don’t grasp yet. The more I know the more I don’t know. Laugh now, Monkey, but you’re in the same boat yourself.”
Hugh made short work of his job, and presently handed the motorcycle over to its owner.
On the way back to where his own machine had been left, he was pleased to hear Gusty remark with considerable vim, as though he meant it:
“I like the way you fellows carry on, honest I do. I’ve been with a set that would have left a chap in the lurch to take care of his own wheel while they rode on and told him they’d wait at the next wayside inn, where they could get a cool drink of mineral water, and lie around resting up till he came. You scouts stand by each other. And I understand now why they elected you assistant scout master of the troop. You’re Johnny-on-the-spot for the job, all right, Hugh Hardin. Excuse me if I ask all sorts of foolish questions about the way scouts manage. I’m getting up to my ears interested in this game. I never dreamed it could be so fascinating. And the more you hear, the more you want to know.”
“That’s the secret of the rapid growth of the scout movement,” Hugh told him. “As soon as you get the average boy interested he asks questions, and once that happens, he learns things that set him agoing. After that nothing can stop him; and in a year’s time, you wouldn’t know it was the same boy, because he takes such an interest in a thousand things that are happening all around him.”
Soon they were moving on again, and from the signals that came from the rear, Hugh knew that all was well with Billy.
Perhaps two more miles had been placed behind them, when all of a sudden the pacemaker gave a short blast on his horn, and slowed up as though he had made a discovery of some sort. Immediately he and Gusty were off, he leaned his motorcycle up against a convenient tree, not waiting to make use of the stand, and leading the other through a fringe of bushes, observed: