TAKEN BY SURPRISE.
"HEY! what's that?"
The tall, thin tramp had jumped up from the bunk as he cried out in this
fashion. His fat companion was also hastily scrambling out of his
comfortable lodgings. Both of them looked alarmed, but Elmer noted with
more or less satisfaction that the very one who might have been expected
to be anxious showed the least sign of consternation. Indeed, a crafty
look had come over Dolph's face, as though something pleasant might have
struck him.
"What's the matter with you?" demanded Dolph, who, while he deserted his
bunk, did so in a leisurely manner, as if to show his indifference.
"Didn't yuh hear that yell?" exclaimed the lean hobo.
"Sure I did; think I ain't got ears?" replied Dolph, sneeringly. "But
what ails the two of ye? Look like ye wanted to skip out, and make
tracks."
"But who'd be comin' away up here, 'cept they wanted tuh git us? Sense
that leetle job over in Janesville a month back, me an' Pete don't feel
jest as safe as we'd like!" went on the thin tramp.
"Aw! go chase yourself, Simsy," scoffed Dolph. "Listen again, would ye?
D'ye mark what the cove's ayellin'? He sez he wants help as plain as can
be. D'ye think if they was any cop around they'd be tellin' us about it?
Wouldn't they rather creep up on us sly like, and nail us before we
could run? Rats! jest use yer brains and figger it out!"
"But what is it, then?" demanded the fellow called Simsy; "if so be yuh
know, tell us, Dolph? I ain't no coward, but I ain't no fool neither.
An' if it comes tuh hangin' around, an' lettin' these jay cops git a
strangle hold on me jest tuh show my grit, I tell yuh I ain't in it."
"Say, don't ye know the old loggin' road leads up here from the main
line? I heard afore now o' fellers in cars mistakin' the way, or
thinkin' they could cut off a heap of distance by startin' in on the
side. All right, then; a fool is born every second, they say; an' one of
'em has just gone and got into trouble tryin' to foller that old loggin'
road."
The tall tramp looked at his fat companion; and then both turned their
eyes on Dolph as he finished speaking. Apparently his logic struck them
as sound, for the expression of fear had already begun to vanish from
their unwashed faces.
"D'ye really an' truly reckon that's what it be, Dolph?" asked the hobo
who had answered to the name of Pete.
"'Cause we don't wanter take any chances, yuh see," added the tall one,
shaking his little head to add emphasis to his remark.
"'Course it is," affirmed Dolph, with a laugh of scorn that did more to
convince his mates than all his talking. "I tell ye that's some fool
feller in a car. He's run into a tree, or some fool play like that, an'
p'raps got hurted bad. Looky here, you two, how d'ye know this ain't
jest the luckiest thing for us three coves that ever came down the
pike?"
"What way?" growled Simsy.
"Yes, speak up an' tell us, Dolph," echoed the other. "Allers sed as how
yuh had the brains o' the bunch. Me an' Pete likes the red licker too
much. Right now we ain't all we orter be. How's it goin' tuh be lucky
for us three?"
"Why," continued Dolph, with vehemence, "don't ye see, if so be this
happens to be a rich guy what has got hurted, we can tote him in here,
an' keep him along till he coughs up a nice little pile to his life
savers. And if ye know a good thing when ye run across it, why both o'
ye ought to put out to find him, and bring him back as quick as ye can."
At that Pete and Simsy again exchanged looks. The love of gain was
rapidly overcoming their first fears; just as the artful Dolph had known
it would.
"How 'bout you, ole feller; don't you jine us in this game?" asked the
thin tramp, a little suspiciously.
"Sure I do," returned Dolph, with ready assurance; "but there ain't no
need of the whole three of us goin' out to carry one feller here.
'Sides, you remember I got a mighty sore heel after my long walk."
"But--yuh ain't agoin' tuh clear out an' leave us?" questioned the tall
hobo.
"Well, what sort of crazy questions are ye askin'? I'll stay right here,
an' wait for ye to fetch the feller back. Then leave it to me to work
him for the stuff. I'm some good at that sort o' thing, I reckon," and
Dolph grinned in their faces.
"So yuh are, Dolph, so yuh are," replied Simsy. "What say, Pete, do we
start out to do the great rescuin' act, and bring the poor bubble wagon
fool here to get bleeded?"
"Ho! I'm willin' if yuh say so, Simsy," replied the fat tramp, promptly,
the prospect of gain acting as a lure in his eyes that outweighed all
other considerations.
Elmer had listened to all this with the utmost eagerness. One minute he
fancied that the lovely little trap he had baited so cleverly was about
to work; and then again he found himself beset with fears that it had
been all for naught; and that if the alarmed tramps made up their minds
to flee, Dolph would decide to accompany them, which in turn meant that
little Ruth must be spirited away, and another long chase follow.
But, after all, it seemed now that things were moving along nicely.
Dolph could be thanked for greasing the ways, though of course the
fellow never dreamed how he was riding to a fall in doing so.
"Come along then, Pete; we'll take a look in at thet squaller, an' see
how bad he's hurted."
The tall tramp made for the near-by door of the log cabin while
speaking, and his fat mate trotted at his heels, for all the world like
a little dog--but an ugly bulldog at that, for he had the face of a
ruffian, did Pete.
Thus they passed out, stopping at the door to listen once more, while
Dolph urged them to lose no further time.
Meanwhile Red had been duly busy. Every minute the sound of his voice,
filled with wild entreaty, came on the breeze.
"Help! oh! won't somebody come and help me! This way! Oh! what a
terrible fix I'm in! Help! help!" he would shout in the most dismal tone
imaginable.
Of course Red was so situated that he could see the door of the cabin
from a distance. Thus he would know when anyone sallied forth to try and
rescue the one supposed to be in a peck of trouble. And once that
occurred, the crafty "fox" was due to exercise his wonderful ingenuity
by slipping away, and later on lifting up his wail for assistance in a
new quarter.
Thus he would coax the two tramps hither and thither, arousing their
hopes only to dash them to the ground by a new appeal from another
section. In the end, of course, such fellows would begin to believe they
were being hoodwinked--that there must be something uncanny about the
mysterious calls, and they would be seized with a small panic that must
wind up the hunting game.
But meanwhile ten, perhaps fifteen, minutes might have elapsed; and
surely that space of time would be enough for Elmer and his fellow
scouts to accomplish the end they had in view.
The young scout leader always did his work with more or less system. He
had decided that they ought to let at least three minutes elapse after
the departure of the men, before attempting any move. This would take
them far enough away from the bunk-house so that any ordinary outcry
from within would hardly reach their ears. Having no other way of
determining upon the passage of time, Elmer began to count under his
breath as soon as the bulky figure of Pete had vanished from the open
door of the building.
Three minutes does not seem a long time under ordinary conditions;
indeed, in many instances it just slips past like magic. And yet try
counting the seconds contained within that short space of time--one
hundred and eighty of them, all told--why, it seems enormous. But
steadily Elmer was putting them over, determined not to change his
plans, and give way to his natural impatience, since he had in the
beginning figured on that three-minute leeway.
He could feel the uneasy movements of his impatient chums. Lil Artha
even went so far as to nudge him in the ribs, as though he had begun to
suspect that their cautious leader might have gone to sleep. But Elmer
gave back an answering dig that convinced the other of his being on the
alert.
When he had finally reached the end of the probation, Elmer himself
began to make a forward movement. All the while he counted those passing
seconds he had been closely watching the figure of Dolph, so as to be
ready for action. That was the motto of the scouts, "Be prepared," and
he certainly believed in living up to it.
Dolph had come back into the cabin. He appeared to be listening from
time to time, as though a little anxious himself concerning the nature
of that strange call for assistance; for all he had pretended to treat
it so lightly when his allies were present.
Dolph had dropped down upon a block of wood, and was examining something
which he had taken from his pocket. Elmer was not able to get a good
look at this article, but, knowing the desperate character of the man
who sat there, and how he had now burned his bridges behind him when he
kidnaped the child of the woman he had married and tortured, the boy
could easily guess its nature.
It was what Lil Artha would call a "gun," otherwise a revolver of the
bulldog type, dangerous enough in the hands of a reckless scoundrel who
feared arrest.
Elmer was conscious of a new little thrill, but he mentally scorned the
thought of this being any indication of fear. Indeed, to thoroughly
disprove such a silly thing he even increased the pace with which he was
creeping across the earthen floor of the cabin.
Dolph still sat there, his head bent low over the tool he was fondling,
as he listened for any change in the cries from outside. If he would
only kindly continue to hold that attitude for another full minute,
Elmer believed he might be in a position to make an aggressive move.
Just then the scout leader became aware of something that gave him a
momentary spasm of acute alarm. Ruth no longer had her face buried in
her dress. Something had caused her to stop her silent weeping, and look
up. Perhaps she, too, had been attracted by those wails for help which
the Boy Scout fox was using as a means for "tolling" the two dangerous
tramps away from the cabin.
But in raising her head Ruth had been made aware of some strange
movement back of the bent-over figure of her stepfather. She was now
staring with round-eyed wonder at the string of crawling figures that
extended from the rear wall of the cabin.
Elmer raised his hand, and held up a warning finger. He hoped by this
means to convince the girl that they were friends, and nothing was to be
feared. But he also hoped that Matt Tubbs, whom he knew to be close at
his side, might be doing something of the same kind; and that little
Ruth would recognize her cousin.
Whether the child could have given utterance to some low bubbling cry of
fear or joy, which reached the ears of the man, or he just happened to
look up, and noticed how she was staring past him, no one ever knew.
Elmer became suddenly aware that Dolph had whirled around on his stool,
and was looking in sheer amazement at the peculiar spectacle of eight
figures worming their way across the earthen floor of the bunk-house and
headed straight for the spot where he himself was seated.
He certainly could not mistake the danger that accompanied the presence
of all these strangers. And, given just three seconds in which to
collect his wits, the desperate fugitive and kidnaper would of course do
something looking toward one thing or the other--flight or resistance.
Elmer did not mean to allow of either. He had been nerving himself for
just this crisis, and his muscles were ready primed for a quick leap.
But, prepared as he was for the action that meant so much toward the
carrying out of his plans, there was one ahead of Elmer. This was Matt
Tubbs, who, crouching there like a tiger beside the leader of the Wolf
Patrol, had reached the limit of his endurance and submission to
orders.
Even as Elmer started to throw himself forward, meaning to clasp his
arms about the man before he could rise, or do any damage with his
weapon, a figure shot past him. Then he saw Matt Tubbs hurl himself
bodily upon Dolph Gruber. At the same time the pistol fell to the
ground, struck on a stone, and was discharged!