Goldfrap John Henry

The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp


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road well. Part of it had been the scene of that thrilling night ride described in The Boy Scouts and the Army Airship, when the boys had overtaken the two thieves who had stolen the aeroplane documents. On that occasion, it will be recalled, an accident had been narrowly averted by a soul-stirring hair’s breadth, as a train dashed across the tracks.

      Rob’s three companions sat back in the tonneau and conversed in low tones. Only the irrepressible Tubby was not duly impressed with the momentousness of the occasion. From time to time a snicker of laughter showed that he was cracking jokes in the same old way.

      “Say,” he remarked, as they bumped across the railroad tracks, “even if we do find out where these fellows are, I don’t know just what we’re going to do with them at this time of night. Reminds me – ”

      “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Tubby,” groaned Merritt.

      “Let him go ahead,” struck in Hiram, “the sooner he blows off all his steam the sooner he’ll shut up for good.”

      “Reminds me,” went on the unruffled Tubby, “of what a little girl said to her mother when the kid asked her what sardines were. The mother explained that they were small fish that big ones ate. Then the little girl wanted to know how the big fish got them out of the tins.”

      There was a deathly silence, broken only by a low groan from Merritt.

      “Call that a joke?” he moaned.

      “Don’t spring any more. My life ain’t insured, by heck,” put in Yankee Hiram.

      “Well, that got a laugh in the minstrel show where I heard it,” responded the aggrieved joke-smith.

      Before long, lights flashed ahead of them, and, descending a steepish hill, they chugged into the town of Aquebogue. It was a fairly large town, and here and there lighted windows showed that some of the low resorts were still open for business. Far down the street shone two green lights, which marked the police station. The auto glided up to this, and Rob jumped out, accompanied by Merritt, leaving Tubby and Hiram in the car.

      “Let’s get out and stretch our legs a bit,” said Tubby presently. It was taking some time for Rob to explain his errand to a sleepy police official.

      “All right, my boy,” drawled Hiram. “I’m not averse to a bit of leg-stretching.”

      The two lads got out and strolled as far as the street corner.

      “H’s’h!” exclaimed Tubby suddenly, as they reached it. He seized Hiram’s arm with every appearance of excitement.

      “Wa-al, what is it now?” asked the down-east boy; “more jokes and didoes?”

      “No. See that chap just sneaking down the street from the opposite corner?”

      “Yes; what of it? Are you seeing things?”

      “No. But it’s Freeman Hunt – I’m sure of it.”

      “By ginger, I believe you are right! It does look like him, for a fact. But what can he be doing here?”

      “I’ve no more idea than you. But he must be up to some mischief.”

      “Reckon that’s right.”

      “I tell you that where Freeman Hunt is, his father is not far off, and the rest of the gang must be about here, too. I guess it was a good thing we came out here.”

      “Well, what shall we do? Go back and tell the police?”

      “No. While we were gone he’d sneak away, and we might miss him altogether. I’ve got a better plan.”

      “Do tell!”

      “We’ll follow him at a distance and see where he goes. Then we can come back and report.”

      “Sa-ay, that’s a good idea. Come on.”

      Freeman Hunt was almost out of sight now. But as the two scouts took up the trail, they saw him pause where a flood of light streamed from the window of a drinking-place. He paused here for an instant and gave a low whistle; presently the boys’ hearts gave a bound. From the doors of the resort issued three figures, one of which they recognized, even at that distance, as Stonington Hunt. With him were the two men who had played such a prominent part in the filching of the wallet belonging to Major Dangerfield.

      “Keep in the shadow,” whispered Tubby, crouching in a convenient doorway; “they haven’t seen us. Hullo, there they go. Keep a good distance behind – as far back as we can, without losing them.”

      The men the scouts were trailing struck into a lively pace. They seemed to be conversing earnestly. Through the shadows the two boys crept along behind them. Presently they were traversing a residence street, edged with elms and lawns and white picket fences. It was deserted and silent. The occupants of the houses were wrapped in sleep.

      “Maybe they’re going to turn into one of these houses,” whispered Hiram.

      But the men didn’t. Instead, they kept right on, and before long the last electric light had been passed and they were in the open country.

      “Hadn’t we better turn back?” murmured Hiram. “It looks as if we were going too far for safety.”

      “Let’s keep on,” urged Tubby. “There’s no danger. If we gave up the chase now we’d have had all our work for nothing.”

      Hiram made no reply, and the two boys, taking advantage of every bit of cover – as the game of “Hare and Hounds” had taught them – kept right on dogging the footsteps of their quarry. All at once Tubby began sniffing the air.

      “We’re getting near the sea,” he proclaimed. “I can smell the salt meadows.”

      Aquebogue lay some distance back from the open waters of the ocean. It was situated, like Hampton itself, on an inlet. In the dim light of the stars, the two boys presently perceived that they were traversing a sort of dyke or raised road leading across the marshes.

      “Where can they be going?” wondered Hiram.

      “Don’t know. But there are lots of fishermen’s huts and shacks dotted about in the marshes. Maybe they are making for one of them.”

      “Maybe,” opined Hiram, “but if you weren’t so all-sot on following them, I’d be in a good mind to turn back.”

      “Not yet,” persisted Tubby, and the chase continued.

      But it was soon to end. All at once the faint glimmer of a watercourse, or inlet from the sea, shone dimly in front of them. Upreared, too, against the star-spangled sky, they could see the inky outlines of a structure of some kind.

      “Crouch down here,” said Tubby suddenly, as the men ahead of them came to a halt.

      A bunch of marsh grass offered a convenient hiding place, and behind it the two boys lay flat. Pretty soon they heard the scratch of a match, and then the grating of a lock, as the door of the dark building they had remarked was opened. The men entered the place and slammed the door to. A few instants later, from the solitary window of the shack, a light shone out. The window was toward the creek, and the glare from it showed the two watching boys the mast and rigging of a large sloop. At least, from her spars, they judged her to be of considerable size.

      “Gee whiz!” exclaimed Tubby, “we’ve found the place, all right. They must have come in that sloop. Maybe that’s the way the two men who took the wallet got out of Hampton unobserved.”

      “But the wind’s against the sloop, and she couldn’t have beaten her way down here in that time,” objected Hiram.

      “She might have an engine, mightn’t she?” whispered Tubby in scornful tones.

      “That’s so. Lots of boats do have gasoline motors. I guess you’re right, Tubby. What are you going to do now? Go back?”

      “Not much,” rejoined the fat boy. “We’ll just have a look into that hut and see what’s going on. We might even get a chance to get that wallet back.”

      “Say, you’re not going to take such a chance! If you looked through