THE MYSTERY OF THE TIN BOX
"Give the assembly call, Number Three!"
Presently, in answer to Paul's order, the clear, sweet notes of a bugle
sounded through the big gymnasium under the church. More than a score of
lads of all sizes began to pass in from the outside, where they had been
chattering like so many magpies; for it was now Summer, with vacation at
hand.
After telling the bugler to sound the call for the meeting, Paul, who
often had charge in place of the regular scoutmaster, Mr. Gordon,
watched the coming of the boys through the open basement door.
"Everybody on hand to-night, I guess, Paul," observed his chum Jack, as
he laid his hand on the shoulder of the leader of the Red Fox patrol.
Thus far there were three patrols in Stanhope troop. As the first to
organize had chosen to be known as the Red Fox, it pleased the others
simply to call their patrols by the names of Gray and Black Fox.
In one corner of the room reposed a splendid banner of silk, upon which
had been sewn a wonderfully life-like representation of a fox's head
done in colors. Strangely enough, to some it seemed red, while others
were just as fully of the opinion that it could be called gray or black,
so cleverly had the silken threads been arranged.
This banner was the one offered by the old Quaker, Mr. Westervelt, in
the preceding Autumn, to be given to the troop that excelled in various
scout tactics and knowledge. The contest had been confined to the three
troops along the Bushkill River; and while both Aldine and Manchester
carried off some honors, the boys of Stanhope had counted as many as
both combined.
When the banner was presented to the winners their totem had been
ingeniously fashioned upon its shimmering folds. Every member of
Stanhope troop felt a thrill of pardonable pride whenever his eyes fell
upon the proof of their efficiency.
"What makes you say that, Jack?" asked the young scout leader,
smilingly, when he heard his chum comment on the full attendance.
"Oh! well," laughed the other, "you know the boys understand that we're
going to discuss where we expect to spend our vacation this year. Every
fellow is just wild to hear what the committee has settled on."
"I sent a communication I received from our absent scoutmaster over to
where the committee sat the other night," remarked Paul. "He recommended
a certain place for a hike and camp; but I'm just as much in the dark as
the rest about what was decided. William does a lot of mysterious
winking every time anybody asks him, and only says, 'wait'."
Paul did not seem to be at all concerned. He evidently had full
confidence in the wisdom of the committee that had been appointed by
himself at the last meeting.
"Why, yes," Jack went on, "and Jud Elderkin, as the scout leader of the
Gray Foxes, tried to get Andy Flinn to leak a little; but it was no use.
Andy would joke him, and tell all sorts of funny stories about what we
_might_ do; but it was just joshing. I'm a bit curious myself to know."
"Have you heard anything more about Mr. Clausin?" asked Paul, seriously.
"I guess nobody has found out much about what was in that tin box,"
replied his chum. "Even Joe says he only knows there were valuable
papers of some sort, which his father is broken-hearted over losing. You
know Mr. Clausin has been just about sick ever since it happened."
"Yes," Paul went on, "and three times now I've heard that the chief of
police has been out there to confer with him. That makes me think Joe's
father must have some sort of idea about who robbed him."
"Oh! well, the fellow will never be caught if it depends on Chief
Billings," declared Jack, somewhat derisively; "I've known him to kick
up a big row more than a few times, after something strange happened;
but when did he get his man? Tell me that, will you, Paul?"
"Still, the Chief is a good police head. He can look mighty fierce, and
generally scares little boys into being good," laughed the scout leader.
"But some others I know snap their fingers at him," Jack went on; "for
instance, you understand as well as I do, that Ted Slavin and his crowd
ride rough-shod over the police force of Stanhope. They have been
threatened with all sorts of horrible punishments; but did you ever know
of one of that bunch to be haled up before the justice?"
"Well, of course you know why," remarked Paul, drily, making a grimace
at the same time to indicate his disgust.
"Sure," responded Jack, without the least hesitation; "Ward Kenwood, Ted
Slavin's crony, stands pat with the Chief. His dad happens to be the
richest man in Stanhope, and something of a politician. Ward threatens
to get the Chief bounced from his job if he makes too much row, and you
know it, Paul. The result is that there's a whole lot of bluster, and
threatening; after which things settle down just as they were, and
nobody is pulled in. It makes me tired."
"Oh! well," laughed the scout leader, "some fine day there will be a
rebellion in Stanhope. Then perhaps we can put in a police head who will
do his duty, no matter if the offender happens to be the son of a rich
banker, or of a railroad track-tender."
"Shucks! that day will be a long time coming," said Jack, shaking his
head in the negative, as if to emphasize his disbelief. "But do you
know, I'm all worked up about that little tin box. There's something
connected with it that Mr. Clausin hasn't told everybody. What could
those papers have been; and why was he looking at them that night? Did
the unknown robber come to the feed-store just on purpose to get hold of
them? Was he especially interested in what that tin box held?"
Paul looked at his chum in surprise.
"You certainly have the fever pretty bad, old fellow," he remarked, "and
to tell you the truth, I've been thinking along the same line myself. If
half a chance offered I'd like to be the one fortunate enough to recover
that box for Mr. Clausin. But of course there isn't the least bit of
hope that way."
Paul could not lift the curtain of the future just then, and see what
strange things were in store for himself and his chum. Had he been given
only a glimpse of that future he would have been deeply thrilled.
"The boys are all assembled, Paul," observed Jack, presently.
Accordingly, the scout leader of the first patrol, and acting
scoutmaster in the absence of Mr. Gordon, found that he had duties to
perform. Paul, in spite of his wishes, had been elected president of the
local council, Jud being the vice-president, Bluff treasurer and Nat
Smith secretary.
The meeting was especially called for a certain purpose, and every
fellow knew that the committee appointed to recommend what the programme
for the vacation campaign should be, was about to make its report.
Consequently, other business lagged, and there was a buzz of excitement
when, with the decks cleared, the chairman of the meeting called upon
the spokesman of that committee to stand up.
William, the humorous member of the Carberry twins, immediately bounced
erect; and it happened that he stood just under the framed charter
granted by the National Committee to Stanhope Troop. Every eye was glued
upon his face, for it had been a matter of considerable speculation
among the scouts as to where they might "hike" for the Summer vacation,
so as to have the most fun.
William was the exact image of his brother Wallace, though their
dispositions could hardly have been more unlike. The former was brimming
over with a high sense of humor, and dearly loved to play all manner of
practical jokes. His greatest delight it seemed, was to pose as the
steady-going Wallace, and puzzle people who looked to the other Carberry
twin as an example of what a studious lad should be.
Still, William as a rule never reached the point of cruelty in his
jokes; and in this respect he differed from Ted Slavin, who seldom
counted the cost when carrying out some horse-play that had taken his
fancy.
The spokesman of the committee looked around at the many eager faces,
and then bowed gravely. William could assume the airs of a serene judge
when the humor seized him. And yet in his natural condition he was the
most rollicking fellow in the troop, being somewhat addicted to present
day slang, just as Bobolink and some others were.
"Fellow members of the Banner Boy Scouts," he began, when a roar arose.
"Cut that all out, William!"
"Yes, give us the dope straight. Where are we going to hike?"
"Hit it up, old war-horse! We want the facts, and we want 'em bad. Get
down to business, and whisper it!"
William smiled as these and many other cries greeted him. It pleased him
to keep his comrades on the anxious-seat a little longer; but when
threatening gestures were beginning to prove that the patience of the
assembled scouts had about reached its limit, he was wise enough to
surrender.
So he held up his hand, with the little finger crossed by the thumb--the
true scout's salute. Instantly the tumult ceased.
"Gentlemen," the chairman of the selected three went on, "this committee
has decided, after much powwowing, and looking into all sorts of
propositions, that the country to the north offers the best field for a
record hike, and a camp in the wilderness; where the scouts can discover
just how much they have learned this past Winter of woods lore. So it's
back to the tall timber for us next week!"
"Hear! hear!"
"Wow! that sounds good to me all right!"
"But just what tall timber, Mr. Chairman? Tell us that, won't you?"
Once more William made the signal for silence, and every scout became
mute. At least they had learned the value of obedience, and that is one
of the cardinal virtues in a Boy Scout's ritual.
"This committee recommends that we hike away up to Rattlesnake
Mountain," William went on to say, "and explore the country thereabouts,
which has not been visited by a boy of Stanhope, in this present
generation, at least. That is all for me; and now I'll skidoo!" with
which the chairman dropped down into his chair again with becoming
modesty.
Then arose a great uproar. Cheers rang out in hearty boyish manner, as
though the committee had struck a popular fancy when it decided upon the
neighborhood of Rattlesnake Mountain for the Summer camp.
This elevation could be seen from the town on the Bushkill. It had a
grim look even on the clearest days; and there were so many stories told
about the dangers to be encountered in that enchanted region that boys
usually talked in whispers about a prospective trip of exploration
there.
Thus far it was not on record that any of the Stanhope lads had ever
wandered that far afield, every expedition having given up before the
slopes of the lofty mountain were reached.
There were claims set forth by some fellows of Manchester, to the effect
that they had climbed half way up to the crest, and met with many
thrilling adventures among strange caves which they found abounding
there. But Stanhope boys always smiled, and looked very knowing when
they heard about this trip. They believed it originated mainly in the
imaginations of those rivals from the nearby town.
It can be seen, therefore, with what elation the announcement of William
was received. All felt that there was a glorious future beckoning them
on. Boys delight in adventure; and surely the mysterious mountain that
had so long been unknown ground to them, offered great possibilities.
Every one seemed to have some particular way of expressing his
satisfaction.
"The greatest thing ever!" exclaimed Albert Cypher, who by reason of his
name, was known among his comrades as Nuthin.
"Yes, all to the good! Back to the woods for me, and old Rattlesnake
Mountain to be the stamping ground for the Banner Boy Scouts!" chirped
Bobolink, making his voice seem to come from Wallace Carberry, who was
never known to indulge in the least bit of slang. Bobolink was trying
hard to be a ventriloquist, and occasionally he succeeded in a way to
bring roars of laughter from the crowd.
"W-w-whoop her up!" chanted Bluff Shipley, whose impediment of speech
often gave him much trouble, especially when he was at all excited.
One by one the assembled scouts were expressing their individual
opinions concerning the proposed pilgrimage, when Paul put it up to the
meeting to ratify.
A storm of "ayes" greeted the move that this report of the committee be
accepted; and the "hike" to Rattlesnake Mountain be made the basis of
their Summer campaign.
Hardly had the roar of voices that followed this acceptance died away
than there was a sudden and startling interruption to the proceedings. A
sentinel, who, in accordance with military tactics, had been posted
outside the church, came hurrying in, and whispered in the ear of the
chairman, who immediately arose.
"Comrades," said Paul, in a low but tense voice, "our sentry reports
that he has found a window in the back of the church basement open, and
looking in discovered moving figures. Our meeting has been spied upon by
those who want to learn our secrets."
"It's sure that Slavin bunch, fellows! Come on, and let's get our hooks
on the sneaks before they fade away!" shouted Bobolink, jumping to his
feet excitedly.