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THE BANNER BOY SCOUTS ON A TOUR
Or
The Mystery of Rattlesnake Mountain
by
GEORGE A. WARREN
Author of "The Banner Boy Scouts," "The Musket Boys of Old Boston," "The
Musket Boys under Washington," Etc.
Illustrated
[Illustration: "COME ON, FELLOWS; US TO THE ATTACK!"
CALLED BOBOLINK.
_Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour_ _Page 217_]
The Saalfield Publishing Co.
Akron, Ohio New York
Made in U. S. A.
Copyright, 1912, by
Cupples & Leon Company
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE OPEN DOOR 1
II THE MYSTERY OF THE TIN BOX 11
III BREAKING UP THE SCOUTS' MEETING 22
IV CATCHING A TARTAR 35
V GETTING READY FOR THE GREAT "HIKE" 46
VI ON GUARD 55
VII "BE PREPARED!" 66
VIII REPULSING THE ENEMY 76
IX RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL 87
X OFF ON THE LONG TOUR 98
XI THE COMING OF THE CIRCUS CARAVAN 107
XII A CAMP BY THE ROADSIDE 118
XIII WHEN THE MOON WENT DOWN 127
XIV THE CHASE 138
XV LEFT IN THE LURCH 147
XVI AT THE FOOT OF RATTLESNAKE MOUNTAIN 155
XVII JOE DECLINES TO TELL 164
XVIII A CLOSE CALL 173
XIX INDIAN PICTURE WRITING 184
XX CAMP SURPRISE 193
XXI THE LIGHT OF THE MOUNTAIN 202
XXII THE NIGHT ALARM 211
XXIII WHAT THE EYES OF A SCOUT MAY SEE 219
XXIV THE STRANGEST FISHING EVER KNOWN 230
XXV PAUL LAYS DOWN HIS BURDEN 239
XXVI THE SUCKER-HOLE 247
XXVII GATHERING CLOUDS 256
XXVIII THE GREAT STORM 264
XXIX A PANIC-STRICKEN CROWD 272
XXX THE UNDERGROUND REFUGE 280
XXXI THE BOY SCOUTS AS EXPLORERS 286
XXXII THE TIN BOX AGAIN 293
XXXIII WHAT PAUL FOUND--CONCLUSION 302
PREFACE
DEAR BOYS:
While this volume is complete in itself, it forms a second link in the
chain of books issued under the general title, "The Banner Boy Scouts
Series." You will, no doubt, be glad to find most of the old favorites
on parade once more; and perhaps make the acquaintance of several new
characters who figure in these pages.
In the preceding volume, "The Banner Boy Scouts; or, The Struggle for
Leadership," I endeavored to interest my readers in an account of the
numerous trials and adventures that befell Paul and his chums when
forming the first Red Fox Patrol. You will remember how the mystery of
the disappearing coins continued to puzzle Paul and Jack almost up to
the very conclusion of the story. And doubtless you were also ready to
admit that, hard pressed by jealous rivals at home, as well as forced to
compete with two neighboring troops who longed to possess the prize
banner, the Stanhope scouts certainly did have a warm time of it, right
up to the close of the tournament.
The wonderful way in which they carried off first honors at that same
competition certainly ought to inspire all Boy Scouts to emulate their
example, and never be satisfied with half-hearted efforts. I sincerely
hope and trust the stirring happenings that fall to the lot of Paul and
his chums, as related between the covers of the present volume, may give
every reader the same amount of pleasure that I have experienced in
writing them.
Cordially yours,
GEORGE A. WARREN.
THE BANNER BOY SCOUTS ON A TOUR
CHAPTER I
THE OPEN DOOR
"Here we are at your father's feed store, Joe!"
"Yes, but there isn't a glimmer of a light. Didn't you say he was going
to stay here till you came from the meeting?"
"Shucks! he just got tired waiting, and went home long ago; you can trot
along now by your lonesome, Joe."
"Listen! didn't you hear it, fellows? What was that sound?"
The four boys stood, as Joe asked this question, almost holding their
breath with awe, while no doubt their hearts pounded away like so many
trip-hammers.
It was after ten o'clock at night, and the town of Stanhope, nestling on
the bank of the Bushkill, usually closed its business doors by nine,
save on Saturdays.
This being the case, it was naturally very quiet on Anderson street,
even though electric lights and people abounded on Broad street, the
main thoroughfare, just around the corner.
These lads belonged to a troop of Boy Scouts that had been organized the
preceding summer. They wore the regular khaki suits that always
distinguish members of the far-reaching organization, and one of them
even carried a bugle at his side.
The first speaker was Paul Morrison, the scout leader, to whom much of
the labor of getting the troop started had fallen. Paul was the son of
the leading doctor in Stanhope.
His comrades were the bugler, known as Bobolink, because he chanced to
answer to the name of Robert Oliver Link; Jack Stormways, Paul's
particular chum; and Joe Clausin, the one who had asked his friends to
stroll around in his company, to the feed store, where he expected to
find his father waiting for him.
The lads had been attending a regular weekly meeting of the troop at one
of the churches that offered them the free use of a gymnasium.
"There's no light inside," said Bobolink, in a husky voice, "but the
door's half open, boys!"
This announcement sent another thrill through the group.
Anyone unacquainted with the wearers of the Scout uniforms might even
imagine that they had been attacked by a spasm of fear; but at least two
members of the group had within recent times proven their valor in a
fashion that the people of Stanhope would never forget.
In the preceding volume of this series, issued under the name of "The
Banner Boy Scouts; or, The Struggle for Leadership," I related how the
boys got together and organized their patrol and troop. Of course, there
was considerable opposition, from jealous rivals; but in the end the
boys of Stanhope won their right to a prize banner by excelling the
troops from the neighboring towns in many of the things a true scout
should know and practice. Hence, no one who has perused the first book
of this series will imagine for an instant that any of these lads were
timid, simply because they clustered together, and felt their pulses
quiver with excitement.
"Do you hear that sound again, Joe?" demanded Paul, presently, as all
listened.
"I thought I did just then," answered Joe Clausin, drawing a long
breath; "but perhaps it was only imagination. Dad's been doing more work
than he ought, lately. Mebbe he's been taken with one of his old
fainting spells."
"Say, that's just what it is, I reckon," observed Bobolink, quickly; "or
else he forgot to shut the door when he went home."
"He never could have done that, boys," declared Joe; "you know how
careful he always is about everything. I was just thinkin' about the
Skarff robbery, and wonderin' if those fellows had come back to town.
The police never caught 'em, you remember."
Joe's voice had once more dropped to a whisper. What he said seemed to
make considerable impression on his comrades, for the heads drew even
closer together.
"But why would they want to break open a feed store?" ventured Jack
Stormways, dubiously; "it isn't like the Skarff place, which was a
jewelry shop."
"'Sh!" went on Joe, nervously; "I happen to know that dad keeps quite
some money in his safe about the first of the month, when people pay
their bills. Mother has often told him he ought to put it in the bank;
but he only laughs at her, and says he'd like to see the thief who could
open his safe. Paul, what should we do?"
"Go in, I reckon. Wait till I find my matches," returned the scout
leader, without the least hesitation.
"Oh! what if we should run up against a man hiding there?" suggested
Joe.
"Well, there are four of us, you know, boys. But what are you doing,
Jack?" Paul continued, seeing that his warmest chum was bending down, as
though he might be tugging at something.
"Look here what I've got, fellows! And there's a lot more to be had for
the taking," with which Jack Stormways held up a stout stick of wood,
which, coming with some of the hay or feed that reached the store during
the day, had been cast aside.
Immediately the three others made haste to possess themselves of similar
weapons.
"Ready?" asked Paul, as he prepared to advance boldly into the dense
darkness.
"Sure! We're going to back you up, old fellow. Say the word!" shrilled
Bobolink, close to the other's shoulder.
"Come on, then!"
The lads had hardly advanced five steps when every one caught the dread
sound that Joe claimed to have heard. And Paul, perhaps because he was
the son of a doctor, somehow guessed its true import sooner than any one
of his chums. He knew it was a groan, and that some human being must be
suffering!
There was a slight crackling sound, which was caused by the sudden
drawing of a match along Paul's trousers. Instantly a tiny flame sprang
into existence; and every eye was strained to discover the cause of the
groan.
As the match burned, and the light grew stronger, the boys discovered
that some one lay upon the floor inside the glass enclosed office, and
close to the desk where Mr. Clausin usually sat. Paul, looking further,
had seen that there was a lamp on the stand, and knowing the need of
some better means of illumination than a succession of matches,
instantly moved forward, and started to remove the chimney of this.
It was still a trifle warm, showing that the light must have been blown
out not more than a couple of minutes previously.
Meanwhile, Joe had thrown himself on the floor beside the prostrate
form, which he had already recognized as that of his father. He was
chafing his hands, and calling out in boyish agony, while Jack and
Bobolink looked on with troubled faces.
Paul saw immediately that either Mr. Clausin must have had a fit while
alone, possibly just after he had blown out the lamp, or else some one
had attacked him. His collar and necktie were disarranged, and there was
a nasty bruise on the side of his head; though this might have come when
he fell to the floor.
"If we had some water we might bring him to," observed Paul, when the
man on the floor groaned again, more dismally than before.
"Back of the safe there is a bucket, with a dipper!" said Joe, eagerly.
Fortunately some water remained in the pail, and Paul was able to fill
the dipper. It was just then he noticed the door of the little safe, and
saw that it was open. This was strange, if the owner of the store had
been about to leave when he was seized. And supposing he had fallen in a
fit, who had put out the lamp?
No sooner had he applied the cold water than it seemed to have a magical
effect on the unconscious man. He gasped two or three times, while a
tremor ran through his whole frame. Then his eyes suddenly opened.
"Father!" almost shrieked poor Joe, who had begun to believe that he was
never again to be blessed by communion with his parent.
"Joe! What has happened? Where am I?" and as he muttered these words Mr.
Clausin managed to sit up, staring around him in a way that at another
time might have seemed almost comical, so great was his surprise.
"You told me to come here, and that you would wait for me," declared his
son; "when we got to the store it was all dark, and the door stood half
open. Then we heard you groan, father. Oh! what was it? Did you have
another of those awful spells?" Joe still kept on rubbing his hand
affectionately down the sleeve of his parent's coat.
"Yes, it must have been that, my boy," the dazed storekeeper answered.
"I seem to remember starting to get up to put a little box in the safe,
for it was about the time you said you would be along. Then it all grew
dark around me. I think I fell, for I seem to remember hearing a crash.
And my head feels very sore. Yes, I have bruised it badly. Perhaps it
was a mighty good thing you boys came along when you did."
"Oh! that was terrible, father," cried Joe; "but at first we thought
some one had been in here to rob you. That door being open worried me. I
never knew you to leave it that way when you stayed here at night."
"What's that you say, my boy?" asked Mr. Clausin, hastily; "the door was
open when you came? But I distinctly remember that it was not only shut,
but latched on the inside! I expected you to knock, and let me know when
you came along."
He still seemed half in a daze, as though the blow he had received in
falling might have affected him. While speaking, however, Mr. Clausin
managed to regain his feet, partly supported by his son's arm.
"Wait until I close my safe, and then I'll go home with you, Joe," he
said; "the doctor told me I ought to take a little rest, and that I was
working too hard. It looks as if he must have been right. But I'm glad
you came along when you did, for----"
He was bending down, and staring into the safe. Paul watched him
uneasily, for that open door worried the boy.
"What is it, father?" exclaimed Joe, as he saw the gentleman begin
hastily to open several compartments in the metal receptacle, and Paul
noticed that his hand shook as though with palsy.
"Look on the floor, boys, please. Tell me if you can see a small tin box
anywhere. Of course I must have dropped it when I fell in that faint,"
Mr. Clausin was saying; but Paul fancied it was more to bolster up his
own courage, than because he really believed what he observed.
The boys immediately set to work examining the floor of the office
thoroughly. But none of them met with any success.
"How large a tin box was it, father?" continued Joe, presently.
"Some eight inches long, by half as many wide. Could I have misplaced it
in any way?" and Mr. Clausin began to feel in his pockets. Once more he
looked into the yawning safe.
"We don't seem to see it anywhere, sir," said Paul, who suspected what
was coming.
The feed merchant stood up before them, with a very grave face. He was
clasping both hands together in a nervous fashion.
"Then there is only one thing that can have happened, boys! I have been
robbed while I lay here unconscious!" he said, solemnly, at which
Bobolink gasped.
"Do you miss any money from your safe, sir?" questioned Paul, who seemed
to be able to keep his head in this crisis.
"Fortunately I took my wife's advice this time," returned the owner of
the feed store, "and deposited all I had in the bank this afternoon.
Still, possibly the thief believed I would keep it here. Seeing that tin
box, and suspecting that it might hold valuables, he has carried it
off."
"Do you remember blowing out the lamp at all, sir?" asked Paul.
"I certainly did not," came the answer; "I can recollect seeing it as I
arose. Then all grew dark!"
"That settles it. There must have been a thief here, then!" remarked
Jack, with more or less awe, as he looked around the big storeroom
beyond the glass enclosed office.