Goldfrap John Henry

The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp


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head sagely, “go on.”

      “Naturally, I was anxious to see what it was. I demanded to have a look at it, thinking it might be some of my property that I had dropped. What was my astonishment, when this young ruffian attacked me. In self-defense, I resisted, and then they all set on me.”

      “That story is a fabrication from start to finish,” cried Merritt, while the others shouted their angry confirmation of his denial. “Let me – ”

      For the second time he was about to relate the true circumstances. But Si interrupted him.

      “Only one way ter settle this,” he said.

      “Any way you like, officer,” said the bearded man suavely, “anything that you say, I’ll agree to.”

      “Air yer willin’ ter be searched?”

      “Certainly. But not here in the public street.”

      “All right, then; at the calaboose, ef that’ll suit yer better.”

      “It will. Let’s proceed there,” said the man, with a sidelong look at the boys, who began to wonder at his assurance.

      Followed by a small crowd, Si and his prisoner led the way to the “calaboose,” a small, red-brick structure on a side street not far from the station. The boys waited eagerly outside, while within the walls of Si’s fortress the search went on. Before long, the constable emerged with an angry face, and very red. The stranger, cool and smiling, was beside him.

      “What kind uv an April fool joke is this?” demanded Si loudly, while the boys, and the townspeople, who had been attracted by curiosity, looked at him in astonishment.

      “You boys ain’t tole me the truth,” he went on, waxing more furious.

      “You – you haven’t found the wallet?” demanded Merritt. “Why, I distinctly felt him snatch it from my hand.”

      “Wall, it ain’t on him.”

      “The other man!” cried Rob, suddenly recalling the bearded man’s companion, and perceiving, likewise, for the first time since Merritt’s adventure, that the fellow had vanished.

      “He’s gone!” cried half a dozen voices.

      In the same instant, they became aware that the bearded man had also vanished in the excitement. Almost simultaneously, Major Dangerfield put in an unexpected appearance. He was out of breath, as if from running.

      “Is this the police station?” he demanded of Si, and, receiving a nod from that stupefied official, he hastened on:

      “I wish to report the loss of a pocketbook. I must have dropped it on Main Street. Has it been found?”

      “It wuz found all right,” grunted Si, “but – it’s bin lost agin.”

      “Corporal Crawford here, found it, sir,” struck in Rob, seeing the major’s evident agitation at Si’s not over-lucid explanation, “but while he still had it in his hand, a man – a rough-looking customer – demanded to see it. As soon as Merritt told him of the initials on it, he – ”

      “Tried to seize it,” exclaimed the major excitedly.

      “Why, yes,” rejoined Rob, wondering inwardly how the major guessed so accurately what had occurred, “there was a scuffle, and in it the man who had attacked Merritt must, in some way, have found a chance to pass the pocketbook to his companion.”

      “Was the man who first inquired about the book a big, bearded man, with sun-burned face and rather shabby clothes?” inquired the major.

      Rob’s astonishment increased. Evidently this was no ordinary case of ruffianism. It would seem now that the men were known to the major, and had some strong object in taking the book.

      The boy nodded in reply to the major’s question.

      “Do you mind stepping aside with me a few minutes, my lad? I’d like to ask you some questions,” continued the retired officer.

      He and Rob conversed privately for some moments. Then the major strode off, after authorizing Si to offer a reward of five hundred dollars for the return of the wallet.

      “He asked me to thank all you fellows for the aid you gave in trying to hold the man,” said Rob when he rejoined his comrades, “he added that it would not be forgotten.”

      Nor was it, for it may be said here, that a few days later a fine launch, named Eagle, was delivered at Hampton harbor with a card from the major, begging the Eagle Patrol to accept it as their official craft. But we are anticipating a little.

      As Rob walked away with Merritt, Tubby and Hiram, the lanky youth spoke up:

      “It beats creation what there could have been in that wallet to upset him so,” he commented; “he doesn’t look like a man who’s easily excited, either.”

      “Well, whatever it was,” rejoined Rob, “we are likely to learn this evening. I rather think the major has some work on hand for us.”

      “Hooray! some action at last,” cried Merritt enthusiastically.

      “Haven’t had enough to-day, eh?” inquired Tubby sarcastically. “I should think that seeing a runaway auto stopped, being knocked down and plunged into a mystery, would – ”

      “Never mind him, Merritt; the heat’s sent the fat to his head,” laughed Rob.

      “I was going to say,” he continued, “that Major Dangerfield has invited us to the house this evening to hear something interesting.”

      “All four of us?”

      “Yes. I rather think then we shall learn some more about that wallet.”

      Soon after, the boys, following some talk concerning patrol matters, separated. Each went to his home to await, with what patience he might, the coming of evening, when it appeared likely that some light would be shed on what, to them, seemed an interesting puzzle. Rob, on his return home, found that the major had motored on to his friend’s with his daughter, but he had promised to return in time to keep his appointment.

      CHAPTER III

      THE MAJOR EXPLAINS

      “Well,” began the major, “I suppose you are all naturally curious concerning that wallet of mine.”

      The four lads nodded attentively.

      “I must admit we are,” volunteered Rob.

      They were gathered in the library of Mr. Blake’s home. The banker was seated in his own pet chair, while the major stood with his back to a bookcase, a group of eager-eyed Boy Scouts surrounding him.

      “In the first place,” continued the major, “I think you would better all sit down. The story is a somewhat lengthy one.”

      The boys obeyed, and the major began:

      “I shall have to take you back more than a century,” he said, “to the days when the first settlers located adjacent to the south banks of Lake Champlain. Among the colonists were my ancestors, Chisholm Dangerfield and his family. Chisholm Dangerfield was the eldest son of the Dangerfield family, of Chester, England. He had been left an ample fortune, but having squandered it, decided, like many others in a similar case, to emigrate to the new country.

      “On arrival here, he and his family went up the river to Albany, and there, hearing of new settlements along the lake, decided to take up land there. They went most of the way by water, being much harassed by Indians on the journey. But without any serious mishaps, they finally arrived at their destination, and, in course of time, established a flourishing farm. But Chisholm Dangerfield had a younger brother, a harum-scarum sort of youth, to whom, nevertheless, he was much attached. When quite young, this lad had run away to sea, and little had been heard of him since that time.

      “But while his family had remained in ignorance of his whereabouts, he had joined a band of West Indian pirates, and in course of time amassed a considerable fortune. Then a desire to reform came over him, and he sought his English relatives. They would have nothing to do