JOE DECLINES TO TELL
"Joe, I'd like to have you step over here a minute!"
Supper had been eaten amid the best of feeling. The assembled scouts
forgot for the time being all their troubles. Lame feet failed to ache,
and tired knees had all the buoyancy of youth again.
The mysterious mountain towered above them, seeming to invite a further
and closer acquaintance. Beside the camp ran the brawling stream, and
the noise of its rushing water would either lull the tired lads to
sleep, or else keep them from doing so. Trees overhung the numerous
tents; and on the whole the camp was a pretty sight, as many a lad
declared in his log of the trip.
When Joe heard Paul say the few words that begin this chapter he gave a
sudden start, and looked up quickly. But the patrol leader and acting
scoutmaster had already turned away, and was walking beyond the confines
of the camp.
After hesitating a moment Joe scrambled to his feet, and followed his
chief. He acted as though he more than half suspected just what it was
Paul wanted to say to him; for several times Joe gritted his teeth, and
shook his head in a way he had; for he was known to be very stubborn
sometimes.
He found Paul on the bank of the Bushkill. He had seated himself on a
convenient rock, and was waiting. The moon drifted in through openings
among the trees, and falling on the water made it look like silver; with
frosting here and there, where the foam splashed up around the rocks
lying in the bed of the stream.
"What d'ye want, Paul?" asked Joe, as he came up.
The noise of the moving water was such that he had to elevate his voice
more than a little in order to be heard distinctly.
"Sit down here, Joe, please," remarked Paul, pleasantly. "I wanted to
have a little talk with you on the side, where none of the boys could
hear, that's all."
"About what?" asked the other, weakly.
"Well, perhaps it's none of my business; but since I chanced to be one
of those with you the night we found your father, and heard about his
losing that little tin box with those valuable papers, I thought perhaps
you might be willing to take me into your confidence, Joe. I want to
help you all I can. You believe that, don't you?"
Joe moved uneasily. He had accepted the invitation to sit down, but his
manner was not at all confidential.
"Why, of course I do, Paul," Joe presently observed, slowly, "I know
you're always ready to help any fellow who gets in trouble. There ain't
a better friend in the whole troop than you are to everybody. But what's
got you now? Have I been a doin' anything I hadn't ought to?"
"You know it isn't that, Joe. I wanted to speak to you about that tin
box your father said was taken from him that night."
"Oh, was that it?" remarked Joe, faintly, and catching his breath.
"You believe that I'd like to help get it back for him, don't you?"
demanded the young patrol leader.
"I remember hearing you say you'd be glad to have a hand in recoverin'
it; and I guess you meant it every time, Paul," came the reply.
"Well," Paul continued, "perhaps the chance may come to me up here on
Rattlesnake Mountain, Joe. It would be queer now, wouldn't it, if, in
coming up to this country we just happened to land on the chap who was
in your father's store that night, and put out the lamp after he had
picked up that little old tin box, eh?"
Joe seemed to have some difficulty in answering. He appeared to be
swallowing a lump in his throat as though it threatened to choke him.
"Why, yes," he presently managed to mutter, "that would be funny now,
for a fact. My dad'd like mighty well to get that stuff back, Paul, sure
he would."
"Perhaps then you wouldn't mind telling me who that man was, Joe,"
remarked Paul, quietly.
"What man?" queried Joe, though his voice betrayed the fact that he knew
only too well what his friend was driving at.
"I chanced to see you when that party drove past our noon camp," said
Paul, softly. "You recognized him, Joe, I am sure you did; and you
showed every sign of being both startled and alarmed."
"Huh! well," Joe stammered, "you see it did give me a sorter start,
because he looked like somebody I knew was at the other side of the
world right then. I reckon you'd feel upset like, Paul, if you thought
you saw a ghost."
"Perhaps I would," replied the patrol leader, quickly; "but you
immediately knew that it wasn't a ghost. Still, it has been bothering
you all the afternoon, Joe."
"Say, what makes you think that?"
"I've watched you when you didn't think anybody was looking," Paul went
on. "I've seen you shake your head and talk to yourself as if you might
be trying to believe something your common sense told you couldn't be
so. How about it, Joe?"
"Oh! I'm willing to admit I've been mixed up about that thing, and bad
too," confessed Joe, as if brought to bay; "but I ain't goin' to say
anything about it, not just yet anyhow. I must see dad first, and get
his opinion."
"Well, I don't want to force you, Joe, against your will. If you think
it best to keep your little secret, do it; but perhaps later on you may
be changing your mind. If we just happened to meet up with that
gentleman while we knocked around old Rattlesnake Mountain, perhaps
you'd be glad to get back that tin box again."
"Sure I would, Paul. Please don't think I'm not wantin' to trust you,
because I hold back. I want to think it all over by myself to-night.
Perhaps in the mornin' I might tell you about it."
"Then I won't say anything more now, Joe. Only believe that I'm ready to
do everything I can to help you. That man came all the way up here."
"How d'ye know that?"
"Why, even a tenderfoot could tell that much," observed the patrol
leader, calmly; "his horse left marks all the way. If you went out on
the road now, and lit a match, you'd see the print of shod hoofs, and
the lines made by the wheels. So you see, Joe, it wouldn't be so
strange if we _did_ happen to run across him some fine day."
"Oh! I wonder what I ought to do? What would dad say if he knew?" and
muttering half to himself in this way, Joe wandered back to his seat
beside the big fire that was making all outdoors look bright with color
and warmth.
Paul was more mystified than ever. Who could that man be, and why should
poor Joe feel so badly over having set eyes on him? If he were an
ordinary person, and suspicion pointed his way, one would think that the
son of the feed-man would welcome his detention, which might result in
the finding of the stolen property.
But on the contrary Joe seemed to be dreadfully alarmed over something.
"Oh! well," Paul finally said to himself as he left the rock and turned
to go back to the camp; "it may be a family secret of some sort, and I
have no business to be poking into it. I'll just keep my hands off, and
wait for Joe to speak, if he cares to. Besides, I've got plenty of other
things to keep me hustling."
He happened to glance up at the frowning mountain while walking away
from the river bank. Suddenly there flashed a little light away up
yonder. Once, twice it seemed to flash up, and then was gone.
"Now, I wonder what that could be?" said a voice close beside him.
"Why, hello, Wallace, is that you?" laughed Paul; "and I guess you must
have made the same discovery I did?"
"Meaning that queer little light up there, eh, Paul?" remarked the
other, who had been walking about uneasily, and just chanced to face
upward at the time the double flash came.
"Yes. I wonder what it was," Paul went on, thoughtfully. "I happen to
know that Ted and his bunch are ahead of us somewhere, and that might
have been a signal to fellows who were left down here to do something to
upset our camp."
"Now, do you know, Paul," Wallace went on; "I hadn't thought of that.
I'll tell you what it looked like to me--some man lighting his pipe. You
saw the light go up and down; that was when he puffed. But it was too
far away to see any face."
Paul, remembering the man who had gone up the side of the mountain with
that rig, wondered very much whether Wallace could be right, and if the
unknown was even then looking down upon them from that height.
This made him turn his thoughts back to the noon camp, and try to
remember whether the man in the buggy had shown that he recognized Joe
at the time the boy so suddenly sprang to his feet with a cry.
At any rate the unknown had whipped up his horse, and seemed in a great
hurry to depart from the spot.
That night the Banner Boy Scouts were just as merry as before. A banjo
had been brought along, and to the plunkety-plunk of its tuneful music
they sang every popular song known among Stanhope's rising generation.
"I just don't exactly like the looks of the sky," remarked Wallace, as
the time for sounding taps drew near.
He had found Paul examining the ropes of the various tents as though
curious to see how well they had been secured.
"That's why I'm overhauling these tent pins and ropes," laughed the
other, as he rose up. "The clouds have rolled up, and it feels as if we
might have a bit of a Summer storm. Perhaps it would be a good thing for
the boys to have an experience like that, if only our supplies can be
kept dry."
When they finally retired, the sky seemed to have cleared again. Paul
set his guards and took his place in his tent, for his turn would not
come until later.
He was tired and soon fell into a heavy sleep. Jack was on duty, and
could be depended on to keep a good watch.
Paul was aroused from slumber by loud cries. Sitting hurriedly up he
found the tent wabbling to and fro in a violent manner, while the air
seemed full of the most alarming sounds. He crawled out without wasting
a minute, and shouted aloud to make the balance of the boys get busy
before everything was swept away by the violence of the gale.