THE STRANGEST FISHING EVER KNOWN
"A man!" echoed Wallace, also looking grave; and even while speaking he
turned his head to stare upward toward that grim cap of old Rattlesnake
Mountain that hung so high above them.
Perhaps Wallace had seen that will-o'-the-wisp light far up the side of
the rocky steep on the preceding night, as well as Paul and Jack. He may
have been pondering over it since, though neglecting to speak to the
patrol leader.
"Well," said Bobolink, with a relieved look, "I'd rather have a
two-legged man wandering around our camp than a four-legged tiger-cat,
any day."
"Of course you would," observed Jack, drily, "but think how awful it
would be if a four-legged man was spying on us!"
Bobolink only snorted at this thrust. It was not often the other fellows
had a chance to give him a sly dig; and that was why Jack could not
resist the temptation, even while Paul was looking so worried.
"I think we had better run this trail out a bit, fellows," remarked the
patrol leader; "and see what he was after. It seems to have come from
along the shore of the lake, and struck up the rise about here. What
say, Wallace?"
"I'm with you all right," came the immediate reply from the one
addressed; "It will give us some exercise, and experience; because once
he strikes the rocks we'll have to be pretty smart not to lose him."
Accordingly they all bent their heads low over the spot where that plain
print of the boot was to be seen.
"Say, do you know what this makes me think of?" demanded Bobolink.
"Not elephants, panthers, or two-legged men, of course!" chuckled Jack.
"Oh! rats!" expostulated his fellow scout. "Come off your perch, Jack,
and talk sense. You make me think of an old Polly, just able to repeat
things over and over. But to see us all down on our knees staring at
that trail made me remember the alarm of poor old Robinson Crusoe when
he found the footprint of the cannibal on his island."
"Well, the comparison isn't so bad--for you, Bobolink," observed Jack;
"because while we haven't got an island that we can call our own, we
seemed to be the only campers on this lake; and to discover that there
is another fellow on the spot ready to dispute our claim makes us feel
that we've been taken in and done for. But there goes Paul."
The scout leader was indeed moving off. Still bending low, and making
positive of every step, he kept advancing slowly but steadily. When
there was the least doubt he asked Wallace for his opinion; for two
heads sometimes prove better than one.
Presently they came to where the rocks began to stand out. Here the
difficulties increased at a surprising rate, for the impressions were
very faint indeed. Still Paul eagerly continued his labor, because there
was a fascination about it for him. He dearly loved to solve any puzzle,
no matter how bewildering; and in these dimly defined traces of a man's
upward progress he found that he had a problem worthy of his very best
efforts.
Sometimes the trail seemed utterly to have vanished. Indeed, Jud and
Bobolink again and again declared that it was useless trying to pursue
it any further. But Paul would not give up, and he had a good backer in
Wallace.
This time they would find a broken twig that had given way under
pressure. Then again it would be a stone overturned that caught their
eye. And a little later the proof of their reasoning was shown in a
clear imprint of the foot in a soft patch of earth.
Then the others would exchange glances of wonder, almost awe, and shake
their heads, as though they were of the opinion that such work was
bordering on magic. But Paul only used common-sense in his trailing,
calling to his aid all that he had ever read, heard or seen of the art.
"Hey, we're right above the camp, fellows!" exclaimed Bobolink
presently.
Raising his head Paul saw that what his companion said was true. But he
did not look surprised; for all along he had felt convinced that the
unknown must be making for some spot where he could obtain a good survey
of the little encampment without being observed by the sentries while
walking their beats.
Two minutes later the quartet found themselves on the brink of the
little shelf where Philip Towne, who had given up the pursuit some time
back, had, as he declared, seen a pair of yellow eyes during the night.
All of them peered over. The tents were not more than twenty-five feet
below. Indeed, that one which contained their supplies lay almost
directly under them.
The patrol leader seemed to be possessed of an idea. Perhaps it
originated in certain marks which he had discovered in the thin layer
of earth along the edge of the shelf.
"I think I know why this party hung about the camp so long last night,"
Paul remarked, when he looked up; and the others hardly knew whether the
expression on his face stood for amusement or chagrin.
"If it was daytime when he came, I'd think he wanted to get a great
picture of the outfit; but in the night, nixy," remarked Bobolink, who
always had an opinion, one way or the other.
Wallace himself looked puzzled.
"Don't keep us strung up any longer, Paul," he pleaded. "What's your
idea?"
"Put out your hand, then, just back of that bush, and see what you
find," and Paul pointed while speaking to a particular little scrubby
plant that had evidently been partly broken down by the passage of some
heavy object over it.
"A string!" exclaimed Wallace, as he held it up.
"Somebody been flying a kite!" ejaculated the ever resourceful Bobolink.
"Suppose you pull it in," continued Paul.
When Wallace had drawn about eight yards of the stout cord he gave a
grunt.
"Well, what did you strike?" asked Paul, smiling with confidence.
"Why, hang it, if it isn't a fish hook!" cried Wallace.
"Oh! the looney has been fishing here; now, what d'ye think of that?"
exclaimed Bobolink, in apparent glee.
Wallace, however, understood at once. He again looked over the edge.
"But Paul, how could he ever get his line in under that canvas, and
secure any of our grub?" he protested.
"It happened unfortunately that he didn't have to. I can show you marks
here on the ground that plainly outline one of our fine hams," said
Paul, pointing to where he had been so closely examining the ground.
"A ham! Oh! my, oh! me, don't tell me that!" cried Bobolink, making a
gesture of despair; "for we're half through the other one, and it was
_so_ good. How could the villain ever clap hands on our prize; tell me
that, won't you Paul?"
"I know, all right," said Wallace in disgust, "and I guess it was my
fault too. I remember suggesting that it would be a good idea to hang
the second ham from the pole William drove into the face of this little
cliff about seven feet up; and they did it too, the worse luck!"
"Yes," remarked Paul, drily, "and it caught the eye of this fellow,
whoever he was. The temptation must have been too strong for him.
Perhaps he enjoys a joke. Anyhow, he got it, after some little use of
his fishline. We're out a ham, that's plain, fellows."
"Think of snapping a porker's hind leg off a pole," groaned Bobolink,
"and playing it, inch by inch, up here; while our gay guards walked back
and forth on post, as innocent as the babes in the woods. It gets me,
all right!"
None of the Banner Boy Scouts looked very happy. Like many other things,
a ham is never so much appreciated as when it has disappeared.
"Say, you don't think, now, it could have been one of that Slavin bunch,
do you?" demanded Bobolink, presently; "because I happen to know
Scissors Dempsey is mighty fond of pork, every way you can fix it."
"I've thought of that," said Paul, without hesitation; "but you can see
the foot is an extra long one. No boy's shoe ever made that. And it's
had a home-made patch on it, too. No, some man has been here, and made
way with our ham."
"Oh! won't it be bad for him if ever we meet the wretch!" threatened
Bobolink. "Just you see what the fellows say, when they know. Only
enough ham for one more meal! That's what I call tough."
There was a howl indeed, when the other campers learned what had
happened. All sorts of theories were advanced, and Paul laughed at some
of these.
"That old humpback rattlesnake oil man must have come to life again,
just like Rip Van Winkle," declared Nuthin, who seemed to have heard the
story somewhere; "and could you blame him for wanting ham, after
sniffing the _delicious_ smells that went up from this camp last night,
while William was busy?"
William thereupon made his lowest bow, with his hand on his heart.
"Oh! thank you!" he exclaimed, simpering; "this is too, too sudden; and
I've really left the speech I prepared, at home."
But while the rest were both growling and making fun over the secret
visit of the unknown, Paul noticed that there was one in the party who
said never a word.
That was Joe Clausin.
He listened to everything, without comment; but there was a puzzled look
on his face, as though he could not quite understand certain facts.
Paul realized that he was thinking about the man who looked like the
party he knew; but who was supposed to be at the other side of the world
just then. Joe believed it might have been this person who stole the
ham; and yet something seemed to upset such a theory. Possibly the
mention of that extra long foot, and the patched shoe, hardly agreed
with his ideas.
And while they were standing around, still engaged in disputing and
advancing new theories, some one gave a shout.
"I saw a man on a wheel just flash past that open spot back along the
trail!" he cried; and immediately every eye was focussed on the spot
indicated; for coming at just such a moment the news electrified the
scouts.