“Mr. Campertown here has requested me to ask you all to assist in the search for his grandchild. It seems a strange thing for a sheriff to rest his confidence in boys, but then I’ve heard considerable about what you lads have accomplished in the past, and this is a case where ‘beggars mustn’t be choosers.’ How do you feel about making a try to earn that splendid reward?”
Hugh looked the officer squarely in the eye as he replied calmly:
“You evidently do not know much about the rules governing Boy Scouts, Mr. Sheriff, or you wouldn’t hold out that reward as an inducement for us to try and find the poor little chap. We are not allowed, as a rule, to accept pay for any service we render, and especially to those in trouble. All the same I’m sure every fellow around this campfire will be wild to offer his services in the search.”
The big sheriff was very greatly impressed with what Hugh said, as his next words proved.
“That sounds fine, son. I reckon I don’t know enough about the scout movement to make such an error of judgment as that. In all my experience this is the first time I ever heard anyone decline to be rewarded. If that’s the way you scouts do things there’s some hope for this old world yet. But we must not lose any more time. Padrone, are you willing to stir up your people, and start a general alarm for the missing boy?”
“I will go right away, and efery man and woman they try their level best so to find eet,” replied the padrone, as he saluted the sheriff and hurried off.
Hugh saw the officer follow his vanishing form with his eye, and then shake his head. From this the boy understood that, while much impressed with the manner of the padrone, he was not wholly convinced that the strikers were guiltless.
Mr. Campertown now turned to the scout master. Evidently he had been deeply interested in what Hugh had told him concerning the activities of the Oakvale scouts in times past. When this terrible necessity burst upon him so suddenly, and there had arisen so great a need of assistance, Mr. Campertown must have suddenly remembered that these lads had achieved marked success in tracking lost people. At any rate, this would account for his appeal through the sheriff for their aid in his time of need.
He looked very forlorn as he faced Hugh. The boy thought he had never seen so great a change in any one in such a short time. Those who might have considered Mr. Campertown autocratic and domineering would hardly class him so if they could have seen how his lips trembled, and how his hand shook as he laid it on Hugh’s shoulder.
“My boy,” he said earnestly, “do your best to find Reuben. He is the light of my life, and it would cut me to the heart if any ill befel him. The sheriff made a mistake when he spoke about that reward to you. It applied only to others. I do not promise you any cash reward if you succeed; but anything you ask of me I will grant; for I know that you will not be unreasonable!”
There was a meaning back of those words, and Hugh knew it. He believed Mr. Campertown realized the scout master was deeply interested in the welfare of those people in the wretched hovels of the foreign settlement; and it must be that he wanted Hugh to feel that he stood ready to do the right thing by them if only this load could be taken from his heart.
“All right, sir; we’ll try the best we know how to find Reuben. It will be strange if a dozen and more scouts can’t get on track of him. I give you my promise we will do everything in our power to succeed; and that’s all I can say, sir.”
Mr. Campertown squeezed his hand convulsively, cast an appealing look around at the circle of boyish faces, and then followed the sheriff off, doubtless returning to the plant in hopes that some good news had come to light during their brief absence.
Immediately the scouts clustered around their leader. They had not heard all that had passed between Hugh, the sheriff, and the grief-stricken millionaire, but sufficient had come to their ears to whet their curiosity, and questions poured upon the scout master.
Hugh, knowing that the best way to satisfy his comrades was to tell the whole story as briefly as he could, commenced to do so. They listened to him in absolute silence. No one interrupted because all were so anxious to get the facts, that they could not think of causing any unnecessary delay.
As soon as Hugh had finished there was a perfect flood of suggestions as to what ought to be done. The scout master, however, knew that nothing would ever be accomplished unless they went at things in a systematic way. Accordingly he told Ralph, Alec and Billy to step aside so they could figure out a program.
“We mustn’t go at this thing blindly,” he said in the beginning, “and rush around without any method. The more haste the less speed in the end. First of all we ought to try and figure out who has carried the child off, or whether he simply strayed away as a little tot often does.”
“The padrone acted as though he was mighty sure none of the strikers could have had a hand in the game, you noticed, Hugh?” remarked Billy.
“Yes, and somehow I’m ready to stake my belief on the padrone,” answered Hugh. “He acts to me as if he had only the good of his people at heart. If any hotheads, as the sheriff seemed to think might be the case, have abducted the child so as to get a ransom, or make Mr. Campertown come to terms, the padrone doesn’t know of it. But he means to find that out right away. I could see it in his eyes as he hurried off. Ralph, what makes you so uneasy, you’ve got something on your mind?”
“Well, that’s what I have, Hugh,” admitted the other. “The fact is, I believe I know who’s stolen little Reuben!”
CHAPTER VIII.
NURSE JONES MAKES AN APPEAL.
“Gee! that’s talking some, Ralph!” exclaimed Billy. “Hit it up, then, and tell us who’s the guilty party. It’s going to make our job a whole lot easier if we know who we’re chasing after right in the start.”
“Yes, Ralph,” added Alec, impatiently, “put us on the track, if you know so much. I hope it isn’t the old padrone, after all.”
Hugh looked fixedly at Ralph. He suddenly remembered a conversation they had not long before. It flashed through his mind that Ralph must be referring to the subject of that talk when he so positively declared he knew who was guilty of abducting the little boy.
So Hugh simply held up his right hand with three fingers extended; and when the other scout saw this he nodded his head.
“That’s it, Hugh; you take my word for it; those three ugly guards who came sneaking back made this grand-stand play. We were off our base when we thought they just meant to break into the safe in the plant and get something that was kept there. They knew a better way to strike for a big sum; they guessed Mr. Campertown valued Reuben higher than anything he might keep locked up in that safe. What d’ye say, am I hewing close to the line or not?”
“You’ve given me something to think about, Ralph, I own up,” the scout master admitted, with a serious look on his face.
“There were three of them near the works,” Ralph explained to Alec and Billy. “I saw the sly bunch, and dropped in a patch of brush to watch. They acted suspicious, and when I reported to Hugh here we had an idea they might mean to get even for being turned adrift by breaking in to-night and looting the safe of the plant. But, say, they had a game up their sleeve worth ten of that, believe me!”
Billy and Alec were visibly impressed with the force of Ralph’s argument. It sounded reasonable to them.
“Of course the guards went away feeling sore,” ventured Alec, who had a great habit of arguing to himself in a convincing manner, “because they lost a well-paid job. Besides, they are known to the sheriff, and stand a chance of being arrested for willful murder, in case any of these people should die. Yes, I guess they would feel pretty desperate, and the three who came back must have planned some bold game. Ralph, you’re a credit to the troop!”
Ralph was waiting to hear what Hugh would have to say. Others might “render their tribute due to Cæsar,” but until the scout master approved, Ralph would not feel satisfied.
Hugh had meanwhile revolved the idea in his active mind. He saw it looked not only possible but probable that Ralph had hit on the truth.
“Even if they have taken the boy, as you think, Ralph,” he now said, “their motive is not bound to be just what you hint. They may not mean to hold him for ransom; that is a pretty risky thing to do, and the punishment for kidnapping a child is pretty severe, you remember, nowadays.”
“But what else could they mean to do, Hugh?” asked Ralph, puzzled.
“If they could make it look as if some of the strikers had stolen the boy,” continued the scout master, “Mr. Campertown would be sorry he had discharged those guards. It may be they intend to suddenly come rushing in with the child, and claim they rescued him from a bunch of the foreigners, after a warm fight, showing a few slashes in their clothes as evidence of how desperately they battled to take the boy away from the rascals!”
“Whew! that would be a smart trick, now, I should say!” remarked Alec; “but no matter what their game may be, it’s up to us to get a move on and find the trail.”
“To do that we’ve got to go over to the plant first of all, and learn just where the boy was seen last,” Hugh told them.
“Once we strike footprints,” said Ralph positively, “leave it to us to keep on the track.”
“I wish we had a good dog along with us,” ventured Billy; but he was immediately frowned upon by Ralph and Alec.
“Scouts who know their business have no need of hounds that I can see,” the former told him. “Show me plain signs, and I’ll take you to the end of the trail or know the reason why.”
“Well, don’t let’s stand around here any longer, anyway,” Billy returned to say, unable to take up the plain dare there seemed to be in Ralph’s last remark.
“Do we all go along, Hugh?” asked Alec.
“I think a couple ought to stay here in the camp to look after things while the rest are away,” replied the scout master, and then, after glancing around at the eager faces of his comrades he continued: “Harold and Monkey Stallings can be the camp guards. I’ve heard both of them complain of their feet hurting lately, and there may be heaps of walking to do.”
The pair indicated looked very much disappointed; still they were too well drilled to raise any objection to the decree. Hugh was their leader, and when he gave an order their duty was only to obey without questioning the motive or the justness of his decision.
That is one of the things scouts learn—obedience to orders. It is a splendid foundation for their future guidance in life. If they could point to this as the only achievement of scoutcraft there would be a good excuse for the perpetuation of the organization on the ground of having improved boy character; but of course there are dozens of other reasons to show that this movement is the grandest thing that has ever been known in connection with the rising generation.
Hugh was now ready to lead his comrades on to the cement works, in hopes of picking up a clue that would put them on the track. It was fated, however, that there should be further delay, and connected with it another surprise calculated to give them something of a shock.
As the scout master turned around he was made aware of the fact that Nurse Jones had not taken her departure at the time the sheriff and Mr. Campertown hastened away. Although he had not paid any attention to her up to now, she had apparently hovered close by the boys, listening to all that was said, and showing the most intense interest in what went on.
When Hugh happened to discover her, just after laying his plans with the three chums who had been at his elbow, Nurse Jones made straight toward him.
“I hope you will let me go with you when you start off on this hunt for the lost child, Mr. Scout Master?” she said, earnestly.
The boys exchanged looks. It was a novel request, and Hugh hardly knew how to answer her. Nurse Jones meant well, but then a woman was hardly fitted for enduring the fatigue they might have to encounter when chasing all around the country in search of the daring abductors of little Reuben.
Nurses were all right in their places, but it hardly seemed as though one of them should want to keep company with scouts when they were on dangerous duty.
“I hate to refuse you, Nurse Jones,” Hugh finally said, “but we don’t know just where we will have to go. The distance may be too far for you.”
“But I’m a famous walker, you remember. I’ve made it a practice to cover ten miles every day, and often twice that,” she replied.
Alec snickered at that, for he could see that none of the scouts had anything on Nurse Jones when it came to endurance.
“And then,” continued Hugh, “there’s likely to be danger, because if desperate men have kidnapped Reuben, they will hardly give him up without trouble.”
“That is only another argument in favor of my going with you,” the nurse told him. “In our profession we understand we are bound to incur some peril; and, if there should be fighting of any kind a nurse would be in her element binding up the wounds that followed. You must let me go with you, Hugh. Indeed, I will not be refused.”
The other boys could see that Hugh was “taking water,” as some of them called it; that is, his resolution seemed shaken. While he still objected, he did not appear very firm.
“But why should you want to tag along, Nurse Jones, when all the rest of us are boys used to taking hard knocks? You’ve got some reason for doing this; don’t you think you ought to tell us?”
“Whew!” Alec could be heard saying, half under his breath, for he understood what it was Hugh must be figuring on.
The nurse stood there, as if half hesitating. Then, as though suddenly making up her mind, she turned again to Hugh.
“Yes, it is only fair that I should be taking you all into my confidence, for, after you hear what I have to say, I feel sure none of you can deny me the right to join in the search for my own little cousin!”
Alec acted as though ready to drop to the ground with astonishment. While he and Hugh had decided that there was something peculiar about the actions of Nurse Jones, and that she looked on Mr. Campertown and his grandson as anything but strangers, they had really never gone so far as to figure that there was actual relationship existing between them.
“Yes,” the Red Cross nurse continued hastily, as though now that she had lifted the veil of secrecy she wanted it over with as soon as possible, “I am his grandchild, just as truly as little Reuben, although he has really never set eyes on me before.”
“Then your name isn’t Jones?” asked Hugh, though he hardly knew why he should have made the remark, except that he felt compelled to say something.
“No, it is Campertown, but when I took up the profession of trained nurse, for reasons of my own I chose to be known as Maude Jones. My father was the oldest son of Mr. Campertown. It was the same old story of his marrying a girl his father did not approve of, so he was cut off, and has never seen his father from that day to this—over twenty-three years ago. My father is still alive, though in poor health. He lives in modest rooms in Boston, and part of my pay goes to his support. Now, you know my secret, and surely you will not deny my right to be with you in the search for my own little cousin.”
“When you came out here in the ambulance did you know that the plant where the strike was going on belonged to Mr. Campertown?” asked Hugh.
“I learned it while on the way,” she answered, readily enough, “from Dr. Richter, who had been told about the facts; but it was too late for me to turn back, even if I had wanted to. To tell you the truth I did not think of doing so. A sudden curiosity had possessed me to see with my own eyes what my stern grandfather looked like.”
“Do you mean that you have never seen him even once?” asked Alec, amazed.
“My father is very proud, even though poor,” she told him, with a dignity that impressed the boys. “He has always said that he had done nothing wrong, and would never beg his father to forgive him. If there ever was to be any reconciliation it must come from the other side. And so I was forbidden to ever try and appeal to Reuben Campertown. I mean to continue to obey his wishes, though I hope something may happen to change things. It is a terrible thing to have family quarrels; and really he didn’t look so very terrible just now when he was here.”
Remembering the look of woe on the face of the millionaire, Hugh felt that she was putting it very mildly when she said this. Oppressed with a sense of dread concerning the fate of the child he loved so passionately, Mr. Campertown had really looked like a man who would not have harmed a fly if he could help it.
“And now, am I to accompany you boys, Mr. Scout Master?” asked Nurse Jones.
“I guess you’ve proved your right to go along with us,” Hugh told her; and every fellow nodded in vigorous assent when he said this, for they liked Nurse Jones.
CHAPTER IX.
SURPRISING THE SHERIFF.
“That settles it, then,” Hugh told them all, “so let’s be off.”
“Just give us a minute, please, Hugh,” interposed Alec. “I want to carry along a fine club I’ve got in the tent here.”
“And if Monkey Stallings will lend me that electric torch he brought with him I might find a chance to make good use of the same,” observed Ralph who, being the best trailer in the whole troop, anticipated that much would be expected of him in the present crisis.
“Sure I will, Ralph,” replied Monkey Stallings. “There’s a brand new battery in the torch, too, so it ought to last you a good while. I’ll get it right away.”
A few of the other fellows were also bustling around. Perhaps they thought it best to arm and equip themselves with staves or cudgels as a means of defense, should they come in contact with the three desperate guards. Scouts may be debarred from handling firearms as a general practice, but occasions are apt to arise where they are compelled to defend themselves; and at such times a club is a pretty good thing to have in hand.
This took but a few minutes. Hugh was getting impatient to be off, for he considered that they had already wasted enough time. The trail would be getting colder all the while; and besides, they would still have to pick up some points over at the plant.
Finally they were all ready, and a glance at their eager faces spoke volumes for the willing spirit with which those scouts entered into this game of trying to recover the lost boy.
Harold Tremaine and Monkey Stallings, with rueful looks, saw their comrades depart. They were undoubtedly keenly disappointed. Smothering this feeling as best they could they called out after the party:
“Here’s wishing you and Nurse Jones the best of luck!”
She waved her hand back at them. It must have pleased her to know that these happy-go-lucky scouts had already become quite fond of her in the short time they were favored with her acquaintance. Friends were not so plentiful in her sad experience that she could afford to despise the honest interest these lads were taking in her fortunes.
Hugh remembered that he had made out the time as about nine o’clock just before the unexpected coming of the sheriff and Mr. Campertown with their startling news.
Not that the scout master carried a watch with him, or had even asked one of the others to inform him as to the time. A scout’s clock is usually in the heavens. If he has learned his lesson properly he is able to tell pretty accurately, in case the sky is clear, what hour of the day or night it may chance to be.
This is only done by making himself familiar with the positions of the various heavenly bodies, the sun by day, the moon and planets by night. In time he knows just by taking a rapid survey of the blue vault above him how the night goes, for he has become aware that this star or that one will be in a certain position, behind the western horizon at twelve, one, two or three o’clock.
If the disappearance of the little fellow was discovered about dark, as they had been given to understand, that would mean an hour or more had since elapsed.
Hugh went even further and figured that the abductors would hardly try to do their work until the shades of evening had commenced to gather, so they might slip away without being detected.
The boys were already at the works now, having skirted the settlement on the way, and noticed that there was renewed excitement as the padrone started the inmates to scouring the immediate vicinity in search of traces of the missing child. Hugh could see that the women who wore those bright-colored handkerchiefs about their heads seemed to be most in evidence, nor did he wonder at this; since they had children of their own, ragged and dirty-faced, but nevertheless precious to them, and they could therefore feel for the stricken millionaire.
“They’ve forgotten just now all they suffered at his hands, I do believe,” Nurse Jones was saying in the ear of the scout master, for she persisted in tripping along close to Hugh.
“It seems so,” the boy replied; “and I hope Mr. Campertown will not forget the fact, either. If we have the good luck to fetch Reuben back, I’m going to hold him to the promise he made us; and I know what it is I mean to ask him to do.”
“I think I can give a good guess, Hugh,” Nurse Jones murmured. “I wish to say that the thought does you credit. I only hope and pray we may find the child, and that he can be taken back unharmed. I believe it will be a turning point in the life of that stern old man. It’s a lesson he’s been in need of——”
Now that they had reached the stockade around the cement works, they found, as upon the occasion of their other visit, that some of the sheriff’s posse stood on guard.
Apparently they had received their orders not to debar any of the scouts from entering as they pleased, for when Hugh started to pass through the gate there was no remonstrance made.
“What d’ye reckon Hugh means to do here, Billy?” whispered Whistling Smith, as with all the others he passed inside the building that had been without workers for so long a time now.
“Why, here’s where the little chap was when last seen,” explained Billy; “and to get on his track we’ve had to come here. If we only had a dog now, one of the right kind that’s accustomed to following a scent, a hound like they use to hunt escaped convicts from the turpentine camps down South, all we would have to do would be to let the dog sniff at some article of clothing worn by the kid. After that he’d pick out the trail, just by his sense of smell, and lead us straight to the spot.”
“But Ralph is a crackerjack of a trailer, you remember, Billy,” said Whistling Smith; “and he’s bound to do his level best this time.”
“Oh! I reckon Ralph is as good a hand as any ordinary scout can be,” Billy admitted. “I’ve been reading lots lately about what wonderful things those smart tracking hounds have been known to do; and, say, I’d just like to see some of it with my own eyes. But then we’ll stand back of Ralph, and help out all we can.”
Considering that Billy was not known to be much of a hand at reading signs and following a trail through brush and over hills this was very condescending on his part. No doubt Ralph would have felt greatly encouraged could he have heard the noble resolve.
Ralph at that moment was busily engaged. With Hugh he had sought the offices of the plant, thinking that the sheriff might be found there, if he were still about the buildings. It proved to be a good guess, for they did discover both the sheriff and Mr. Campertown, the latter looking more dejected than ever, which was ample proof that thus far no signs had been found of the strangely missing child.
At the entrance of the two scouts, Mr. Campertown started and looked eagerly toward them as though a sudden wild hope had seized upon him. When he saw who the newcomers were, and realized that they could not have any glad tidings for him as yet, he heaved a great sigh and sank back again in his chair.
Perhaps he and the sheriff may have been consulting on some plan. If so, they immediately put it out of their heads at the coming of Hugh and Ralph.
“Are you ready to begin on the job now, boys?” asked the officer kindly, yet with a touch of half-veiled sarcasm in his voice, as though, after all, he had grave doubts as to the lads being able to undertake the successful carrying out of such a task as now lay before them.
“We wanted to ask a few questions first, sir, and then make our start from here,” the scout master informed him.
“That sounds like business, anyway,” the sheriff observed, “and I suppose it is about the boy last being seen you want to know?”
“For one thing, yes,” Hugh told him.
“I’ll try and give you the few facts we’ve dug out so far,” said the big official. “I have two of my men who used to be on the police force in Boston working on the case. You’ll have to take care, or they’ll cut the ground out from under the feet of the scouts.”
“It wouldn’t make any difference to us if they did,” said the scout master; “our only idea is to find the child, and so long as that’s done, it doesn’t matter who has the luck to bring him back. Please tell us what you’ve found out, sir.”
“The little fellow ate his supper with his grandfather at half past six. In fact, the three of us sat at that table over there, and tried to make the best of the meal they prepared for us here in the plant. It’s been the habit of little Reuben to be put to bed early, and so Mr. Campertown took him off immediately we were done. Why, the kid was that sleepy he went off while we sat here at the table, and the last I saw of him he was lying like a log in his grandfather’s arms.”
Mr. Campertown barely suppressed a groan. The recollection evidently came near overpowering him, so that it was only with an effort he shut his jaws tightly and held his feelings in with a tight rein.
“An hour or so afterward, about eight it was, and just dark,” continued the sheriff, “Mr. Campertown had occasion to go again to the room over yonder, where you see that partly open door. There had been a couple of cots arranged for himself and the child, the rest of us meaning to bunk in other parts of the plant. Well, I heard him give a cry, and he came staggering out, looking as white as a ghost, and trying to tell me that the boy was gone.”
“Whew! that was exciting,” Ralph could not help saying when the sheriff paused to catch his breath, for he was a large man, and talking was not his strongest point.
“Of course I hurried in,” the official went on, “and found a window wide open, showing where the abductor had entered. We had heard no sound while we sat here, which proved that the man or men had worked with expedition and great caution, not even arousing the child. That’s about the extent of our information, son. Whoever the contemptible scoundrel was, he left no card behind him with his signature.”
“It happened between seven and eight, then, according to what you say, Mr. Sheriff?” Hugh ventured to say, as though that fact might be worth remembering later on.
“That’s a certainty, son. The main thing, though, is the fact that they took the kid out through the window without my men being any the wiser. Then there was the stockade to consider; they must have known where a weak place could be found in that.”
“If they were on guard here for days and weeks they would be apt to know every foot of the place, don’t you think?” asked Hugh boldly, so that the sheriff stared at him, and then exclaimed:
“What does this stand for? Have you lighted on a clue already that my men missed? Why do you speak of those guards we sent packing? What have they got to do with this kidnapping game, son?”
“Only that my chum Ralph, here, saw three of them sneaking around in the brush outside the picket lines in the afternoon,” Hugh informed the astonished officer. “He watched them a while, and from their actions felt that they were up to some mischief. We talked it over, and wondered if they had designs on the safe here; but, since you and your strong posse were on duty, we concluded that it was none of our business, and that we wouldn’t be thanked if we tried to give you a tip; so we kept still. But, after we learned that a treasure many times more valuable than any in the safe had been stolen, we saw a great light.”
Then the sheriff, still staring at Hugh, slapped his hand down on his thigh, and was heard to mutter, as if to himself:
“By George! It begins to strike me there may be something after all to that talk about the clever way these scouts do their work. I’m getting my eyes opened!”
CHAPTER X.
ON THE TRAIL.
“Could we look into the room where the boy was asleep at the time he was stolen?” asked Hugh; and the sheriff at once manifested a desire to lead the way, Mr. Campertown following after them slowly, as though it pained him to see the empty cot upon which little Reuben had been left lying.
It was not much of a room, after all, and had only one window. The boys did not bother asking what it had been originally used for in connection with the offices of the big works; that was a matter that apparently had no connection with the present.
Just as the sheriff had told them, two cots were in evidence. One of these was still undisturbed, and had evidently been intended for the use of the millionaire when he chose to retire, after concluding to remain on his property for a night, now that the authorities had taken charge.
“This is the cot where the boy lay,” the sheriff told them, at the same time pointing to the second bed, where the sheet and blanket had been thrown aside, and it could be seen that a small head had pressed on the pillow.
Hugh and Ralph just glanced around them, and then turned their gaze on the one window the room could boast. It was open, as they had already been advised. After securing possession of the child, the unknown kidnappers had not thought it worth while to try and hide the route by which they had entered and left the room.
Ralph stepped over at once to that window. Leaning across the sill, he undoubtedly must have pressed the button of the hand electric torch he had borrowed from a brother scout, for a little glow could be seen without.
Hugh knew what this meant. The tracker of animals was looking for signs of the invaders. If the ground beneath the window happened to be in any way soft, they must have left some sort of trail behind them that would give a clue.
Ralph turned his head so that he could speak to the scout master. He seemed to understand that Hugh would be hovering close behind him, anxious to hear his opinion.
“Yes, there are marks below, Hugh; and we can climb out here much easier than bothering to go around,” was what Ralph said eagerly, for he was like a hound being held in the leash when scenting the game, and those marks beyond the window seemed to be beckoning to him to come on and investigate.
“All right,” said Hugh, promptly, “tumble out, and I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”
Not waiting for further permission, Ralph made his way through the opening. To an agile scout it was merely next to nothing, for the ground lay only a few feet below the window.
Hugh followed after him, to hear a quick warning:
“Wait, don’t drop just there, Hugh; you’ll spoil the best of the tracks. Reach around and get your foot on this board; now swing around, and there you are!”
No sooner had the scout master effected a landing than the two boys were bending over, with the shaft of white light from the hand torch illuminating the earth directly under the window. From the opening above them two heads were thrust—those of the deeply interested sheriff and the anxious millionaire, who were watching to ascertain what was about to happen.
Ralph was pointing to certain marks, and calling the attention of his comrade to the fact that they differed from others.
“Remember that footprint with the square toe, Hugh; that’s one man’s trademark. Now, here’s a second that’s entirely different; this fellow wears a pointed shoe, you see, and is more of a dude than the first. Now, if I could only find—well, talk about luck, will you—look at this! A third footprint, and as different from both the other as black is from white.”
“Ralph, you’re right,” assented the pleased scout master, “that man is wearing old shoes, and one of them seems to have a torn sole, for it makes a queer mark every time he puts a foot down. See here, and here, you can notice it.”
“One, two, three, all told,” said Ralph, with thrilling emphasis. “Hugh, doesn’t that just seem to fit in with my theory to a dot?”
“There were that many of the ugly guards came back, for a fact,” admitted Hugh.
“I’ve settled that part of it without a question,” said the other boy firmly; “and now the things we’ve still got to figure out are, what object these desperate men had in view when they stole the boy; and how can we find them?”
“Good for you, son!” chuckled the interested sheriff, leaning from the open window. “I want to say that this is worth all the trip out here to learn. My two men never bothered looking for tracks; they asked some questions, and then went hurrying off, saying they believed they knew where the dagoes had taken the boy. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re wasting their time over at the settlement rummaging around.”
Neither of the boys took much notice of this praise from the sheriff. The fact of the matter was they were too deeply engrossed in the carrying out of their plan of campaign to bother with side issues. After it was all over, no doubt, they might feel highly gratified to hear such expressions of appreciation from an officer of the law.
“I’ll step around and fetch the rest of the boys,” suggested Hugh, “while you’re making a start along the trail, Ralph.”
“Wish you would, Hugh,” muttered the other, already moving off, and bending low, as he followed the tracks with his practised eye.
So the scout master speedily appeared in the midst of the other members of the troop, who, with Nurse Jones, had been impatiently waiting just outside the office. Of course all of them were rather surprised when Hugh spoke, for they had believed him inside the building all this time.
“We’ve found the trail,” he told them quickly, and thinking it best that every one should know the facts without delay, Hugh went on to add: “There were three of the abductors, just the same number of guards Ralph saw hiding in the brush and watching the plant this afternoon. Come along with me, all of you!”
“Good! We’re off!” Bud Morgan was heard to mutter.
Trooping at the heels of their leader they quickly rounded the building.
“What’s that moving along over there?” asked Whistling Smith, who had suddenly discovered a strange sort of glow apparently creeping close to the ground within the stockade, and looking very uncanny.
“Why, don’t you know? That’s our chum, Ralph, and he’s using that bully little hand torch Monkey Stallings loaned him,” Billy Worth hastened to inform the other.
They soon came up with Ralph, who had stopped close to the stockade.
“Here’s where they got in and out, Hugh,” the tracker was saying, as he pointed to where there was a gap in the barricade, a heavy plank having been removed.
“As like as not those rascals arranged all this before they left the place,” observed Hugh, as he saw the missing plank lying on the ground close by. “They figured that they’d want to come back for something, and this board was left hanging loosely so that, while it looked all right, it could be removed with half an effort.”
There was nothing strange about the way the scout master figured this out. His training had sharpened his wits and enabled him to solve what might have been a bit of a mystery to some boys. But then it is part of a scout’s business to use reason and judgment, and this was what both Hugh and Ralph were doing.
“It looks more and more as if my guess had hit the bull’s-eye right in the center,” Ralph was saying, half to himself, in a satisfied way.
“About the three men, you mean of course, Ralph,” Hugh remarked. “Yes, none of us will ever look at it any other way now. Crawl through, and we’ll follow you. This is the first stage of the tracking game; if the rest pans out as well, I can see victory in the air!”
Such confident words did much to inspire all of them with renewed vigor. Looking around after they had passed beyond the stockade, the boys could see little save the gloom of the night; but the faith they felt in their leaders did much to make this seem less appalling.
In several places, though, some of them began to notice moving lights that looked like jack-o’-lanterns in a graveyard or a marsh.
“What d’ye make them out to be, Alec?” asked Blake Merton of the scout who happened to be next to him at the time.
“Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were some of the strikers hunting all around to see if they can find the lost boy,” Alec replied. “Then again it may be that several of the sheriff’s posse, learning about that fat reward Mr. Campertown has offered for the safe return of little Reuben, and no questions asked, have organized a searching party. Five thousand dollars will spur most men to doing stunts, let me tell you, Blake.”
“I should say, yes!” declared the other, with a sigh, as though he could picture quite a few glorious things that might come his way should a kind fortune allow him to win that prize, which, however, was too good to be true.
Meanwhile Ralph, with Hugh close beside him, was in the van, carefully following the trail. It seemed a most fortunate thing that when the abductors of the child made off, bearing their sleeping burden with them, they avoided the customary path made by the men in coming to and going from work.
This fear of meeting someone caused the three men to pass over fallow ground where their footprints were apt to be more readily seen.
As the cluster of scouts followed as close as they thought expedient, they were watching every motion of the leaders, expressing their appreciation among themselves in whispered comments.
“I guess after all, Billy, you’ll admit right now our chum Ralph is as good at the business as any trail dog you could scare up!” Alec told the other.
“That’s what I think, too,” added Bud Morgan, with emphasis. “Just see how he keeps that eagle eye of his glued on the ground; and notice that we’re moving forward right fast in the bargain.”
“Ralph Kenyon is all to the good!” said another enthusiastic scout.
Of course, under all this heavy fire, Billy felt that he’d better throw up his hands and surrender.
“No use talking, fellows,” he told them, “seems like we’d have mighty little use for one of those hounds as long as we’ve got Ralph to pin to. He’s learned his lesson to a dot. Unless we meet with a setback, it’s going to be all up with that crowd.”