I didn’t know why Harry should be calling to me that Pee-wee was killed, because we knew that. And it seemed awful spooky for him to be saying that one word; anyway, the word made it seem kind of ghostly-like. Especially, because it was against the wind and that makes a voice sound kind of not human.
As soon as I could, I got up, but I could hardly stand, I was so dizzy. I tied my scout scarf around my head, but the blood dripped down only not so bad. It made my head ache terrible to look up the cliff. I couldn’t see any light up there at all.
I guess if it hadn’t been for Pee-wee, I would have just lain down and stayed that way, because I was so weak and dizzy. I couldn’t shout for the light, because that made me weaker and it made my head swim. I just went stumbling over rocks and old roots and a couple of times I had to sit down. My hands were cold just like ice.
Pretty soon I didn’t know where I was at all. It was so dark that I couldn’t even see the things near me. The rain was blowing in my face, too. Anyway, I knew one thing, and that was that if I lay down I would never be able to get up again. I didn’t care so much only I wanted to see him first. Then if I was going to die, I would stay right there and die. Anyway, I didn’t care much, because the troop would never be the same without Pee-wee. That was just the way it was, we were always kidding him, but when it came to doing something, he was the one to jump out of that car. While I was sitting on a rock, I kind of thought how it would be at Temple Camp without him; he was always getting into some scrape or other in the cooking shack. I never knew how much I cared about Pee-wee, until that night.
One thing, I don’t get rattled in the dark; and I don’t get lost easily either. If that shaft of light had never been there and if I had started down there in the dark, I guess I could have found the place where Pee-wee’s body was. But when the light disappeared, all of a sudden, I didn’t know where I was at. And when I fell and hurt myself, that made it worse.
Besides, the wind and rain made it worse, too. I guess the rain must have been pouring down off that cliff like a water-fall. Anyway, I could hear the sound of water splashing.
I just groped about, pressing the scarf tight against my forehead to keep the cut from bleeding. I didn’t know which way I was going, I bunked into rocks and trees, and sometimes I was up to my ankles in water. If I had come to the place where Pee-wee was, it would just have been luck. I wondered why some one else didn’t come down, but I guessed they couldn’t manage it, maybe because the rain was pouring over the edge.
Pretty soon I knew I couldn’t go any more; I tried, but I just couldn’t. I had to sit down on a rock, I was so dizzy. I held my head in my two hands. Pretty soon I lay down on the rock and all the while I could hear the wind and the swishing of water and I wished they would stop. It was dark so I couldn’t see anything. I guess I didn’t know anything either, after that.
Then something awful queer happened. Maybe it was a half an hour afterward, or maybe not so much—I don’t know. But anyway, I saw a light. And I felt warm, sort of. And I guess I must have been asleep, because I didn’t know what it was on my forehead, and I pulled the end of it and I could see it plain. It wasn’t my scarf, because mine is gray, on account of my patrol being the Silver Foxes. But it was black with stripes across, and I knew it was the scarf of the Raven Patrol.
Then I saw there was a fire very near me—not so very near on account of the wind—but pretty near. And I thought Grove Bronson must be there, because he’s a Raven. Then I guess I must have gone to sleep again, anyway, everything seemed kind of funny and I thought about how Grove Bronson couldn’t get a fire started in the rain, because that’s hard and only a few scouts can do that. Then I sort of could see my mother and she was saying how I must stay home from school, only I knew I was out there in the rain and that it was summer and there wasn’t any school.
Then all of a sudden, I could see a face and it scared me. It was all white and the hair was streaky from the rain. It was Pee-wee’s face. There didn’t seem to be anybody to it, only just a face. Pretty soon, it moved.
I said, “Don’t come near me! Stay away! I’m sick and I’m hurt. You make me scared; don’t come near me! If you’re dead——”
“I just want to put the dry coat over you,” he said; “so I can dry the other one. Don’t you know me—Roy?”
I JUST WANT TO PUT THE DRY COAT OVER YOU.
“Pee-wee!” I just kind of gasped.
He said, “Lie still, don’t sit up. They can see the fire; they’re coming down. It’s holding up now.”
Then I could see the rest of him as he got up from behind the fire. And he came over with another coat that was dry and warm and laid it over me, and took the other one.
“I had a dandy idea,” he said, and oh, gee, then I knew it was Pee-wee; “I fixed a rock so it would get all warm underneath and the coats would keep dry while I heated them. I invented it; it’s dandy.”
I guess I must have been going all to pieces, anyway, I didn’t know what I was doing, but I just put my arms around him and I said, “I don’t care anything about the coats, Pee-wee, as long as you’re alive—I don’t. Honest, I don’t. I don’t care if I get wet——”
“You told me I couldn’t start a fire in the rain,” he said; “I’ve got a special way I do it——”
“Don’t go away; stay right here,” I told him. And I just held onto him.
“They’re coming down, they can see the fire,” he said. “Lie right still. Anyway, I’d like to tell you, because now we’re alone here, and so I’d like to tell you that I’m not really mad when you think——”
All I could say was just, “Don’t, kid; don’t talk like that.” And I held onto him tighter.
And all the while I could see the blaze and I could hear the wet wood on the fire crackling, and the flame made the whole cliff plain. And I could see how quick the rock was drying on account of the heat, and how fire is stronger than water after all, because if you can only start it right it just laughs at rain. And anyway, a scout like Pee-wee is better than both, that’s one sure thing.
Then pretty soon I could hear voices, not up on the cliff, but coming along down below and I could hear Skinny saying, “Will they be dead?”
And I could hear Harry say, “Yes, one of them, I’m afraid, Alf.”
“That’s where they all get left isn’t it?” Pee-wee said. “I’m glad I’m alive just so as to fool them.”
That was Pee-wee all over.
Harry and Grove and Skinny came plodding through the mud; they had come down the same way I had come down. And oh, boy, you should have seen the way they stared when they saw Pee-wee.
“You alive?” Harry said.
“I can prove it,” Pee-wee shouted.
Harry just stood looking at him and scowling and whistling to himself, as if he couldn’t believe his senses.
“If you don’t believe I’m alive ask Roy,” the kid blurted out.
“Any injuries? Anything the matter?” Harry asked him, and began to feel of him all over.
“Only I’m hungry,” the kid said.
Harry just whistled for about half a minute and then he said, “Well, I suppose that a fall of two or three hundred feet is enough to give one an appetite—if nothing else. How about you, Roy?”
I told them the best that I could about my adventures, and I asked him what had happened to the light.
“I stumbled over the storage battery and spilled the chemicals,” he said.
“Was it you calling killed?” I asked him.
“It was I calling spitted,” he said.
“Good night!” Grove blurted out.
“It shows how much you all know,” Pee-wee piped up. It was the same old Pee-wee. “I wasn’t anywhere near those two rocks and I—I wouldn’t know them if I met them in the street. I was sub-conscious in a tree—I mean unconscious. When I slipped up there, I went kerflop off the precipice—just like in the movies. There was a tree sticking out and I caught it and I was kind of stunned. But anyway, I stuck there in the branches, because I’m lucky. When I got all right again I managed to crawl along a little ways and then I slipped down and landed behind a rock or something, and below that it wasn’t so steep. I went down, because I couldn’t get up and I wandered around down there, until I heard somebody groaning. That was Roy.”
“Why didn’t you answer when I called?” Harry asked him.
“I guess I must have been unconscious then,” the kid said. “How could I answer you if I was unconscious? I guess you were never unconscious.”
Harry said, “Well, if I’ve never been unconscious, at least I’m stupefied. Pee-wee, I think you have nine lives like a cat. I’ll never worry about you again. Go where thou wilt. You were born under a lucky star. But tell me this, do either one of you nightly wanderers know who it is who lies wedged between those two rocks somewhere down here?”
“He’s surely dead,” little Skinny piped up; “isn’t he?”
Harry said, “Yes, Alf, I don’t believe we’ll have to disappoint you again. He’s very dead.”
“Let’s go and find him,” Pee-wee shouted.
“Do you think you’re able to move about, Roy?” Harry asked me.
“I started to find those two rocks and I’m going to find them,” I told him.
“I’ll help you along,” Grove said.
We made torches and lighted them at the fire. The way you do that is, to get a good stick and split it a little way and then split it crossways to that and keep on splitting it this way and that until the split parts are so thin that they just curl out and make a kind of a fuzzy topknot on the end of the stick. If you do it right, the stick will burn, for about half an hour. When we each had one, we started out to find the two rocks we had seen from up on the cliff and the body that we had seen between them.
“If it isn’t a scout then it must be a soldier,” Harry said, “because I’m sure about the khaki uniform.”
Skinny kept right close to Harry; I guess he was kind of scared thinking about what we were going to find. I couldn’t blame him, because it was kind of spooky, seeing those torches moving in the dark.
Grove said it was pretty risky leaving the auto, with no lights on it up there in the road, but Harry said it was worse to leave some one dying maybe, but more likely dead, between two rocks down there in that jungle.
But anyway, this is what we decided to do. Grove said he’d go up with a torch and keep a fire burning near the machine, while the rest of us hunted around below. He went along under the cliff to where it wasn’t so high and steep, and pretty soon we could see his torch bobbing along the road high up. Then pretty soon we could see a pretty good blaze up there and something black near it.
But down below we just couldn’t find those rocks. We each went separately (except Skinny who stayed by Harry) but the more we hunted the more mixed up we got. Oh, boy, but that was some jungle! From up on the cliff those two rocks had been good and plain, but now that we were down below, all the rocks looked alike. That’s the way it is with rocks; they look different in a bird’s-eye view.
After a while, Pee-wee shouted, “I’ve got a trail! I’ve got a trail! Come here, quick!”
Harry and I were pretty far apart, but we both heard him and followed the light of his torch until we got to the place where he was standing. Sure enough, there was a trail winding all in and out among the rocks.
“It’s a sure enough trail all right,” Harry said; “Pee-wee, you’re a winner. I dare say this starts away up there along the road; it will show us the easiest way back, if it doesn’t show us anything else.”
“Will it show us that man that’s dead?” little Skinny piped up.
Harry said, “I dare say, Alf; we’ll soon see. If he wasn’t thrown off the cliff he probably came by the trail.”
“When I saw those rocks from above,” I put in, “they looked too far out from the cliff for anybody to be thrown there, or to fall there.”
Harry said, “Well, I dare say you’re right. As long as we thought it was our young hero that was wedged in there, and as long as we knew that the only way he could have got there was by falling, it didn’t occur to me that it was pretty far out from the cliff.”
“Then there’s a mystery!” Pee-wee shouted.
“Yes?” Harry said. “Break it to us gently.”
The kid said, “Well, if that man wasn’t thrown down and didn’t fall down, then how did he get down? He couldn’t have come across far over toward the east there, because when I had the fire going, I could see it was all marshy.”
“Well then, he came down by the trail,” Harry said.
“All right, show me a footprint in this trail,” Pee-wee shot right back at him.
Harry looked and I looked, and even little Skinny got down on his knees and looked, and there wasn’t the sign of a footprint in that trail. It was soft there, too, and if there had been any footprints they would have shown good and clear.
“Maybe he came in an airplane,” Skinny piped up.
“I guess if there was an airplane anywhere around here, we’d have found it before this,” I said.
Harry said, “Well, I suppose it’s possible that somebody picked his way down the same as Roy did and then maybe stumbled. None of us know where those rocks are, but they did look pretty far out from above, and it does seem mighty funny that there aren’t any footprints in this trail. Anyway, we’ll push ahead and see what we see.”
We went along the trail single file, Pee-wee going first, because if any one can follow a trail, he can. All the while we kept holding our torches down, looking for footprints, but there wasn’t a sign of any. Then all of a sudden he stopped short, saying kind of scared sort of, “There it is! Look—straight ahead—I can see it.”
About fifty feet ahead of us that trail ran between two big rocks, only they were farther apart and looked different than they did from up on the cliff. And right there in the trail between them lay a man with a soldier’s uniform on. He was lying face down, and we knew he must be dead, because his arms were spread out and one of his legs was lying up over a corner of rock, kind of crazy like. No matter how badly injured a man may be, even if he’s unconscious, he never lies sprawling like that. There’s kind of a way that a dead person lies.
Pee-wee just stopped short in the trail and we all stopped behind him. I guess for just about a second, none of us wanted to go nearer. The way that man’s leg was lying made me feel creepy. Harry said that was the way men lay on the battle field before the nurses took them—all sprawling, sort of.
Pretty soon Pee-wee moved a little nearer and held his torch toward the rocks.
“Funny there isn’t any blood there,” Harry said.
“Maybe the rain washed it away,” I told him.
“Go ahead, Pee-wee,” he said; “move along.”
But for just about a couple of seconds, Pee-wee didn’t budge. Gee, I couldn’t blame him.
“Look at Grove’s light up there,” I said.
Away up on the road we could see the fire good and plain, and even something dark moving near it.
“Shall I call to him?” I asked.
“No, don’t,” Harry said. I guess it was just because he didn’t exactly want us to be shouting with that thing lying so near us. Anyway, we kind of spoke in whispers—I don’t know why.
I said, “Well, you can see for yourself now that no one could fall as far out from the cliff as this. Grove’s fire is right near the edge, isn’t it? Look where that fire is and look where we are.”
“It’s blamed funny there aren’t any footprints,” Harry said; “he’s right in the trail.”
“It’s a mystery like I told you,” Pee-wee whispered. As we moved nearer I could see how Skinny was clinging tight to Harry.
When we got near the rocks, Pee-wee seemed to get his nerve back—most always that’s the way it is with scouts. Anyway, he has plenty now—that’s one thing.
He was quite a little distance ahead of us and I saw him lean down and hold his torch over that body. Then, all of a sudden, he set up a shout that took me off my feet.
“I’ve solved the mystery! I’ve solved the mystery!” he yelled.
Harry said, “Shh, speak easy. Isn’t he dead?”
“He—he—isn’t even alive—I mean he wasn’t!” our young hero shouted. “Look at him! Feel of him! The mystery is solved!”
It was solved, all right. Pee-wee grabbed hold of one of those sprawling legs and hauled that body out from between the rocks. The way he handled it, I’d say it weighed about five or six pounds. It was just a rag dummy.
We stuck our torches into the earth and sat down on one of those big rocks and had a good laugh.
“You thought it was me,” our young hero shouted; “you thought it was me——”
“You mean I, not me,” Harry told him; “we realize now our mistake—that we should ever have mistaken one with a tongue like yours for a dummy. The plot certainly grows thicker; I never expected to find a rag soldier.”
“Anyway, we’ve had a good time,” Pee-wee said.
“Rag-time, I should say,” Harry said; “but what is the meaning of this dark and dismal mystery? Why this rag-time dough-boy?”
“Search me,” I said, “it has me guessing.”
“That shows how much you all know,” Pee-wee yelled; “that shows how much what-d’ye-call-it you have—deduction. This is where those movie men were making their play and that rag dummy got hurled off the cliff in a jealous rage, just the same the school teacher in The Cowboy’s Revenge!”
“A jealous rage, hey?” Harry said.
“Sure,” the kid said; “wasn’t one of those movie men in Utica dressed like a soldier? That was the one that was supposed to be thrown off the cliff; that one is this one—see?”
Harry just sat there, whistling. Then he said, “I guess you’re right, kid. They chucked him out too far. It was easy, because he didn’t weigh anything. This is the climax of a terrible tragedy.”
“I—I bet it’s a dandy play,” Pee-wee said; “I’m going to see it when it comes out.”
“Too bad it can’t end with a picture of boy scouts on the trail of a rag dummy. The play might be called The Ragtime Scouts,” Harry said.
I said, “Yes, and who was the first one to say that was Pee-wee.”
“Guilty,” Harry said; “but yet I was right; I said there was no life in that figure, and there isn’t. Shall we take our friend along with us? It seems kind of cruel to leave him here at the mercy of wind and storm.”
“Sure, take him,” I said; “we’ll put him in the Raven Patrol; they’re a lot of dead ones.”
Harry slung Mr. Ragtime (that’s what we called him) over his shoulder and we started back along the trail. On account of being wet, that dummy was heavier and it hung limp and looked even more like a real soldier than it did before, I guess. It seemed awful funny for Harry to be marching along ahead of us with that thing over his shoulder.
That trail ran along close under the cliff and showed us an easy way up. Pretty soon we hit into the road and passed the place where we had supposed Pee-wee had fallen, and then came to the auto. Grove had the fire burning on the edge of the road right near the car, and he was sitting there keeping warm when we came along.
Harry said, “We’ve brought with us one of the most famous movie stars, the Hon. Ragtime Sandbanks; allow us to introduce him. He’s full of stuff that isn’t worth anything, like most movie plays. Just the kind of hero that you kids are fond of clapping your hands at. If they’d only take a few more of those celebrated movie stars and chuck them off a cliff, it would be a good thing. Well, Grove, old boy, you been lonesome waiting? Here old Ragtime, dry your clothes out if you want to ride with us.”
“How are we going to ride without any juice?[1]” Grove wanted to know.
“We’re not,” Harry said; “who wants to volunteer to go to Lurin? That’s the nearest town, I think. Take the old battery in and see if you can get another one. I don’t see there’s anything else we can do.”
[1] Electricity.
Grove and I hiked along to Lurin. It was pretty dark and we had to be mighty careful for about half a mile, because the road ran right close to the cliff, but when we once got over the top of that hill, the going was easy.
We found a service station there and left our battery and got another one. By the time we got back and Harry got everything connected up all right, it was daylight.
He had to run that machine mighty careful for a ways, because we were pretty close to the edge. We could look down and see that place below good and plain in the daylight. We could see the trail, too, and just how everything was, and it seemed funny that any of us could ever have got lost down there. That shows the difference between day and night. But anyway, I like night better on account of camp-fire. Only I don’t like home work. I like the middle of the night best of all, but I like the two ends of it, too. I like one end on account of breakfast, and the other on account of supper. The reason I like the middle of the day is on account of lunch. June is my favorite month, because that’s when my birthday is, and one thing, I’m glad there’s a week between Christmas and New Year’s, because on account of holidays. I wish there was a week between Thanksgiving, but anyway, that hasn’t got anything to do with that automobile trip. I just thought I’d tell you.
It was dandy to see the sun coming up that morning—that’s one thing I like about the sun. But, oh, boy, weren’t we hungry! Grove and I sat on the back seat with Ragtime Sandbanks (that’s the name we gave him) sitting up between us. He was all nice and dry by that time. He looked as if he didn’t have any sense. Harry says that’s the way it is with movie stars. Cracky, that fellow’s all the time knocking the movies. I guess he does it just to get Pee-wee started.
Let’s see, where was I? Oh, yes, now comes a peachy adventure. Remember how I told you that Grove and I had Ragtime Sandbanks sitting up between us? Well, pretty soon, after we had got down to level country and were making the speedometer earn its board, I happened to look around and, good night, there was an automobile coming along lickety-split, about a quarter of a mile behind us.
“They’re breaking the speed laws,” I said.
“Believe me, they’re smashing them all to pieces,” Grove put in.
Harry didn’t bother about them, just kept her rolling along at about twenty per, when all of a sudden we heard the people in that car shouting at us to stop.
“You don’t suppose it can be Brent Gaylong and his patrol, do you?” I asked.
Harry said, “No, they’re waiting for us up in the woods by this time.”
“It’s a flivver,” Grove said.
“Some nerve; a flivver calling to a Cadillac to stop,” I said.
“Are we going to get arrested now?” Skinny sung out in that funny high voice. Gee whiz, you could hardly blame him, after all the crazy things that had happened.
Harry said, “Maybe, but I couldn’t promise you. Perhaps so, if you’re good.”
We just kept running along about the same as before; Harry wouldn’t bother to stop and he wouldn’t bother to go faster. And all the while that other machine came zig-zagging and rattling along pell-mell, with the men in it shouting for us to stop.
Pretty soon, good night, there was a shot!
“Huh,” Harry said, all the while stopping the machine; “looks like business; I guess we’re pinched.”
“That shot went over our heads,” I said, “they didn’t mean to hit us.”
Harry said, “No, but they meant to scare us and make us stop; I wonder what we’re up against now.”
All of a sudden a thought popped into my head. “Hurry up,” I said to Grove; “let’s throw Ragtime Sandbanks out and they’ll think they killed him. Throw him out so he’ll go down that bank beside the road—quick!”
In about a jiffy out went our old college chum, Ragtime Sandbanks sprawling kerflop on the edge of the road and kerplunk down into the ditch where there was water running.
“So long, old pal!” I shouted after him; “you died in a good cause.”
“Victim of an assassin,” Pee-wee said.
“He landed in the water,” Grove said.
“How can you land in water?” Pee-wee wanted to know, all the while craning his neck out of the car. “He sank,” he shouted; “I don’t see him.”
“End of The Cowboy’s Revenge,” Harry said; “what do you suppose will be the next act in this interesting comedy?”
“I think we’re pinched,” I said.
“What did we do?” Grove wanted to know.
“Who committed this murder? It wasn’t any of us,” I said.
Harry just sat there with his arms on the wheel, looking around and waiting for that car to catch up with us, and laughing.
“I wish Brent was here,” he said; “I think we’re going to have some fun. This is right in his line.”
There were three men in that car and as soon as they caught up with us, I knew they were sheriffs or detectives or something like that, on account of their being big and kind of bossy looking.
They got out and came up to our car and one of them said, very loud and gruff, “What are you doing with that car?”
“Why, we’re just sitting in it laughing,” Harry said. “Here’s another; why is a Ford like a poisonous snake? Give it up? Because it has a rattle. Let’s tell some more.”
“Who was that you throwed out of this car?” the man shouted right in Harry’s face. All the while the other two men were down in the ditch looking for the dummy. I guess it must have gone down in the water, anyway, they couldn’t find it.
Harry said, “Oh, that was really your fault; should be more careful when you shoot at random. That was a very famous personage—Mr. R. T. Sandbanks.”
Gee, I could hardly keep a straight face. The men just stood there staring, and Harry just sat there with his arms folded on the steering wheel, smiling just as nice as could be. Poor little Skinny was clinging to his arm. Pee-wee and Grove and I sat on the back seat trying not to laugh. Those men looked at us as if they thought it was funny for boy scouts to be there, but we should worry about them. Our consciences were clear, only we were hungry.
“Look here, you,” the big man said to Harry; “you got to explain your movements—and your actions.”
“Our actions can’t be explained,” Harry said; “we’re all crazy. But anything we can do to accommodate you——”
All the while the other two men were poking around in the creek with sticks. The big man shook his finger right in Harry’s face and said, “You’re the feller that was in Wade’s Hotel in Utica with a car with a New York license. You were seen there. You had some stolen property in that car. You’ve changed your license plate since then. Been in Crystal Falls ain’t you? Get out of there, you kids, and let me look under that seat. What are you doing with a crowd of young boys in this car, anyway?”
Harry said, “My goodness, what a lot of questions! You’re a regular questionnaire, aren’t you? Get up, boys.”
We got up and he dug around under the back seat, but didn’t find anything. Then he dug in the side pockets and, good night, there were our “papers” as Pee-wee called them.
He said, “What’s all this, eh?”
Harry said, “Those? Oh, those are just some papers. One of them is a letter, and let’s see, those two are newspaper articles and the other is a description of a tree. Do you like trees? We’re crazy about trees.”
Oh, boy, you should have seen that man. He read those papers over and scowled. “Train robbed, huh?” he said. “Shootin’ goin’ on, huh? Now, who are you, anyway, and who did you throw out of this car, and where did you get this car, and where did you get this here license plate that you’re using?”
Harry said, “Well, it’s a long story and really it would be a shame to tell it, unless we were all sitting around the camp-fire. We’re a band of adventurers and we’re on our way to see what will happen next. Our specialties are murder, burglary, treasure hunting and food, when we can get it. Going to be warm to-day, don’t you think so?”
Honest, that man hardly knew what to say, he was so flabbergasted. I guess he must have felt like Alice in Wonderland, hey? With men being thrown out and disappearing and nice little boy scouts instead of burglars, and papers that he couldn’t make out the meaning of at all. He just looked around kind of puzzled, and all the while Harry sat there with his arms folded on the wheel—oh, boy, I could hardly keep a straight face.
Pretty soon the man said, “Well, young feller, you got to give an explanation of your whereabouts. You were seen in Utica with this car and you had some valuables in it. A porter in the hotel seen them under the seat. You went away and later passed through Utica with this same car. And what did you do with that stuff? And where’d you get your plate changed? Just let’s see your card.”
Harry showed him his driver’s card. Gee whiz, I wanted Harry to tell him that scouts don’t get mixed up with burglaries and things like that, but he didn’t bother to tell him anything. I guess he thought that anybody ought to know that much. Cracky, I wouldn’t be a burglar.
Then he walked all around the car, sizing it up; I guess he was hunting for some kind of clews or other. Then he whispered with the other men. And all the while, Harry just sat there smiling.
I said, “Why, don’t you tell them how it was?”
“They wouldn’t believe us,” Harry said; “don’t you know you can’t tell a detective anything? You’ve got to let him crack his head against a stone wall.”
“Will we get put in jail?” Skinny asked.
“Guess not,” Harry said; “my one regret is, that Brent isn’t here. He’d enjoy this. Evidently these fellows belong in Utica and they’re a little behind on their information. I rather prefer our old friend, the constable.”
Pretty soon the big man left the other two poking around in the water, and came over and said, “I’ll ride into Lurin with you. You’ll have to go before a justice you fellers. You got to explain your movements. Was that man you threw out of the car, dead?”
Harry said, “Oh, very dead. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so dead before.”
“Well, then, you killed him,” the man said; “’twasn’t no shot of ours. How’d that man come by his death, huh?”
“He was thrown off a cliff,” Harry said.
“Well, we’ll find out who threw him off,” the man said.
Harry said, “Oh, that’s easy; fifteen cents and the war tax, and you’ll know the whole story. Climb over in back Alf, and let this gentleman sit here.”
Just then one of the other men came dragging poor Mr. Ragtime Sandbanks after him. He looked awful silly—I mean the man. The poor old dummy was all soaked and his legs and arms flopped this way and that. Harry looked, but didn’t seem especially interested.
“So that’s it, is it?” the big man said.
“That’s it,” Harry said.
“A dummy!” the man just what-do-you-call-it—you know—ejaculated.
“Oh, don’t call yourself names,” Harry said.
Jimmetty, you should have seen that man.
Oh, boy! Laugh! I guess, to use Pee-wee’s favorite words, those men thought we were some deep mystery. I guess they didn’t know what to think at all. Anyway, two of them took the dummy in the Ford and the big man rode with us—pity the dummy! That was the hardest part of all his adventures.
It was awful funny to hear Harry talking on the front seat. He said, “I’ve often wondered why you fellows don’t get after the garage-keepers—they’re the real robbers. I’d be willing to take my chance with a highwayman, but with a garage-keeper, nix.”
In Lurin, we all stopped in front of a nice white house that had a sign on the door that said:
GEORGE WINTERS
JUSTICE OF THE PEACE
I guess poor little Skinny thought our mad career of evil was up at last. Pee-wee looked kind of scared, too.
We all went in and stood in front of a desk and George Winters, Justice of the Peace, sat on the other side of it. He wasn’t cross and ugly at all. He said good morning, and he thought it would be a nice day.
“Not if we go to jail it won’t,” Pee-wee said.
“Will we have to stay as much as ten years?” little Alf, wanted to know.
Justice Winters said, “Well, what’s all the trouble?”
The big man told him that they gave us the chase out of Utica. Can you beat that? A flivver chasing a Cadillac! Excuse me, while I laugh. He told the Justice how we had reached Utica very early in the morning and had stopped at a hotel, and how a porter who was cleaning up in the sheds had seen the things under the back seat of the car. Then he said how we left very suddenly and, several hours later, were seen passing through Utica again with a different number on our machine. He didn’t say anything about Mr. Ragtime Sandbanks. Gee whiz, I didn’t blame him for that.
But Harry wasn’t going to let him off so easy. He said, “You forgot to tell the Justice about the murder we committed. We wish to plead guilty to that.”
Oh, gee, that poor man; he had to tell about the whole business, how they hunted around in the water and found the rag dummy. That Justice scowled, kind of, and I guess he didn’t know what it all meant, but anyway, he had to smile. “That shows we’re innocent,” Pee-wee spoke up, “because if a thing isn’t alive, you can’t murder it, can you?”
Justice Winters sort of smiled and he said, no, you couldn’t.
After he had listened to what all those men had if say, he said, “Well, you wish to make a charge against these people?”
“I want ’em held for complicity,” that’s what the big man said.
“That’s one thing we didn’t do, anyway,” Pee-wee said; “complicity. How did we complicit?” Justice Winters smiled kind of, and began rooting around among a lot of papers. He said, “Well, I’m glad you caught these fellows, because they’re wanted.”
The big man said, “I knew there was something wrong when I heard of their coming back through Utica with a different license plate and getting off the state road and cutting up through the hills. They was looking to get off the main line of travel.”
Justice Winters said, “We have already received a phone message to have them stopped when they passed through the town. Judge West of Crystal Falls, lost no time in having them traced. It is fortunate that you caught them, though our own authorities were on the watch.” He began rooting among his papers some more, and pretty soon he picked up a long envelope.
You ought to have seen Pee-wee and Skinny. They looked as if all hope was lost. Even Harry looked kind of puzzled. But those men—oh, didn’t they look chesty!
“I knew there was something wrong about ’em,” the big man said.
Justice Winters said, “Yes, you’ve made a good capture. I was talking on the ’phone with Judge West last night, and promised to have this party stopped if they passed through. Very early this morning I received a special delivery letter from him. I will read it to you.”
“I’m glad we were able to do a favor for the Judge,” that big man said, awful important like.
“We haven’t found his valuables yet, but we will. This oldest fellow knows where they are.”
“Right the first time,” Harry said; “I do.”
Then the Justice read the letter and g-o-o-d night, this is just what it said:
“Dear Justice:—
“Pursuant to our ’phone talk just now, I am enclosing check for five hundred dollars, payable to bearer, by registered special delivery. I hope it will reach you before this young man and his friends pass through your town. I was sorry not to see them when they restored our property. Please hand him this check, which is for the amount of the reward I offered, and insist upon these boys accepting it. I do not know where they belong and could probably never get in touch with them, so do not let them get away. Convince them that this money is theirs, and that they earned it.
“Hurriedly,
“Josiah E. West.”
“That’s all there is to it,” Justice Winters said; “there’s no use trying to get the better of a man like Judge West. Which would you prefer to do; accept the money, or have me hold you on a technical charge of appropriating a rag dummy, until I can notify the Judge?”
“You’d—you’d better take the check, Harry,” Pee-wee piped up; “it wouldn’t be safe to try to foil a man like Judge West—safety first, Harry—we’d better take the check.”
I wish I had a snapshot of those three men to show you—especially the big one. They looked as if they were suffering from shell shock.
So that was the end of Mr. Ragtime Sandbanks; anyway, it was the last of him as far as we know. Harry said maybe those men would get him a job as a detective. Gee whiz, there are worse detectives, believe me. Harry said he was one of the greatest movie heroes that ever lived—or didn’t live; what’s the difference? He said he liked him, because he didn’t keep smiling all the time and aiming pistols like some movie heroes. Some knocker.
We had a conclave about that five hundred dollars; that’s what Pee-wee called it—a conclave. And we voted whether we should keep it or not. Pee-wee said it would be contempt of court not to keep it, and that a scout must obey his superiors. Skinny said if we didn’t take it, maybe we’d all have to go to jail. Harry said it might be fun to go to jail, because that was one of the things he had never done.
I said, “The longer you put it off, the more you’ll enjoy it; lots of people are in too much of a hurry to go to jail.”
Cracky, we didn’t know what to do, because a scout is supposed not to take anything for a service. We sat there in the auto talking and talking about it, and all of us kept changing around, and I guess we didn’t know what would be right for us to do.
I said, “If it was just a glass of soda or something like that, I’d know what to do with it.”
Pee-wee said, “Sure, even if it was two glasses.”
“I could handle six just now,” Grove put in.
“Some bunch!” I said; “any one would think we were hunting for sodas instead of buried treasure.”
“If I had a soda it would be a buried treasure in about ten seconds,” Pee-wee shouted. Can you beat that kid?
Harry said, “Well, here we are talking about ice-cream sodas when the paramount issue is a five hundred dollar check.”
“What kind of an issue?” Pee-wee piped up.
Grove said, “I vote not to take it.”
“I’ll take the same,” Pee-wee said.
“Where do you think you are; in a candy store?” I asked him.
“I mean I vote the same,” he said.
Skinny said, “I vote to take it, because I’m afraid of that judge.”
Harry said, “Well, so far everybody has voted both ways, so everybody wins, including Judge West.”
“I vote in the positive,” our young hero said.
“You mean negative,” I told him; “what do you think this outfit is; a storage battery?”
“I mean infirmative,” he shouted.
“Which is the best thing to do?” Harry said.
“I vote that it is,” Grove spoke up.
“What is?” Harry said.
“I vote we get some breakfast,” poor little Skinny piped up.
“Carried by an unanimous majority,” I shouted.
Then Harry said, “Now, you kids listen to me, and keep still a minute. There’s a way of getting around that law.”
Pee-wee shouted, “Is it a long way around? Because I’m hungry.”
“No, it’s a short cut around the outside,” Harry said. “We can take the check and beat Judge West at his own game. We can show him that boy scouts are not to be trifled with and browbeaten….”
“You’d better not, Harry,” Pee-wee said; “safety first. Gee, I’m not afraid of rattlesnakes or wasps or mince pie; but judges—good night!”
Harry said, “We’ll just take this check and when we get to Temple Camp, if we ever do, we’ll make arrangements to have a shack or a cabin built there; maybe we could build it ourselves; and we’ll endow it….”
“Shingles are better,” Pee-wee shouted.
“We’ll use what we need to build it,” Harry said, “and the rest we’ll put in the bank, and we’ll get your scoutmaster and the rest of you wild Indians interested, and we’ll have that cabin maintained for poor troops that can’t afford the regular troop cabins. I don’t believe the trustees will have any objection. I don’t believe that scout law means that you can’t take money and use it to help others; it means that you can’t take it and just buy sodas with it. That’s my idea.”
“Oh, boy! Five hundred dollars worth of sodas! Mm—mmm!” Pee-wee put in.
I said, “Yes, and if we find the bags of gold dust, we’ll add that to it, too.”
“That’s what we will,” Harry said.
“And I’ve got a dandy idea,” Pee-wee shouted. “As long as we’ve been mixed up with burglaries and all like that, and as long as we got this money in that way, we’ll have that cabin named Robbers’ Cave.”
I said, “Sure, because really we have to thank those burglars. If it hadn’t been for them, we wouldn’t be able to help poor scouts.”
“You’re crazy!” Pee-wee shouted.
“Roy is right,” Harry said. “We should not forget the poor, honest, hardworking burglars who never receive credit. They help the homeless, and feed the hungry and give poor boys a little whiff of the fresh country air, and for this they are denounced and misjudged. Never speak unkindly of the poor, charitable, kind-hearted burglar.”
Honest, that fellow is crazier than the rest of us. Poor little Skinny didn’t seem to know what to think.