THE CALL OF THE BEAVER
"Oh, I don't believe there'll be any circus!" whispered Tommy.
"And why not?"
"Because Katz will get the fellow handcuffed so quick by that there
won't be any fun in it! There's a big reward out for that fellow!"
"Huh!" grinned Sandy. "You didn't see how scared the detective was when
I told him the train robber was here by our fire. It's a hundred to one
that the train robber will give the detective a swift kick in the pants
and go back to his own camp."
The boys listened and waited for a considerable length of time, but
heard no evidence of the approach of the detective.
"Say," Tommy whispered, "this is a pretty nice supper I've been getting
for that robber. It looks good enough for me to eat myself!"
"We can eat it after Katz takes the robber away," suggested Sandy.
"I don't see anything of Katz, do you?" asked Tommy with a wink.
"Je-rusalem!" exclaimed Sandy. "You don't think he's run away, do you?
He wouldn't do that, I'm sure!"
"He wouldn't," laughed Tommy. "I'll bet that fellow's running away now
with a face so pale it leaves a white streak in the night."
"Well, it takes him a long time to get here, anyway," admitted Sandy.
"You just wait a minute," Tommy chuckled, "and I'll fix this business all
right. You just tend this skillet until I come back."
Tommy moved away toward where the robber sat on the ground, watching
every move that was made, and keeping a particularly keen eye on Sandy,
whose temporary absence from the camp had attracted his suspicions.
"Look here," Tommy whispered, "we're not anxious to see you boys get
into trouble, and so we're going to give you a tip. Sandy went out a
moment ago to steer away one of the detectives who came in from Chicago
last night."
The hold-up man got softly to his feet and began moving out of the light
of the fire. Tommy urged him by look and a motion to remain where he was
for the present.
"I didn't know that there were any detectives from Chicago in here," he
said. "They must have made a quick jump to get here!"
"I guess they did," replied Tommy. "One of them was here before you were
yesterday. He chased you up the valley, but came back, saying that he
couldn't get a shot."
"Pretty nervy kind of a fellow, eh?" asked the train robber.
"He looks to me," declared Tommy, "as if he'd fight a rattlesnake and
give him the first bite. He may have a swarm of his men in the vicinity
of the camp, and if I were you, I'd turn away to the east and get out of
sight as soon as possible."
"I can't fight a whole army," declared the train robber, as, crouching
low, he moved away.
"Wait a minute," whispered Tommy chuckling so that he was afraid the
other would discover the merriment in his voice. "Why don't you wait and
have some of the supper I've been cooking for you?"
The train robber did not even pause to hear the conclusion of the boy's
remarks, and Tommy went back to the fire and lay down and rolled back
and forth until Sandy threw a cup of water into his face.
"What do you think of that!" he exclaimed. "There's a bum Chicago
detective chasing off to the north at a forty mile gait, because he
thinks there's a train robber after him, and there's a a train robber
chasing off to the east at a forty-mile gait because he thinks there's a
Chicago detective after him! Some day," the boy added, "I'm going to
make a motion picture scenario of that."
While the boys were enjoying the joke, Will and George came out of the
tent where they had been sleeping. Both looked grave when the incidents
of the night were related to them.
"It means," Will declared, "that we are suspected by the train robbers
of harboring a detective, and suspected by the detective of harboring
the convict and his son."
"Aw, they won't come back here again, any of them!" asserted Tommy.
"Don't you think they won't," replied Will. "Here," he added, as Tommy
dipped into the skillet of bacon and eggs. "What are you boys doing with
the third or fourth supper?"
"I cooked this for the train robber!" grinned Tommy, "How'd you like to
have a few bites of it?"
"I don't mind!" declared Will.
"Of the four parties representing four diverse interests," Will said, at
the conclusion of the meal, "two have been represented here tonight.
Before morning we may receive a call from the cowboys and the escaped
convict. The visits might not be very agreeable ones but, still, they
would complete the roll-call."
"You remember that trip to the Florida Everglades, don't you?" asked
Tommy, with a most satisfying yawn. "Well, if you haven't forgotten all
about it, you'll remember that we didn't have any sleep there for a
couple of nights, and that I actually began to grow thin because of
being kept awake so much."
"It was your own fault," insisted Sandy.
"That may be," replied Tommy, "but, all the same, I'm not going to let
anything like that happen on this trip. I'm going to bed right now, and
there's nothing on the face of the earth that can get me out of bed
again until morning."
"That's me, too!" declared Sandy.
The boys entered the tent recently vacated, drew down the flap and were
soon in bed, and asleep. Will and George, sitting by the fire,
discussing the unusual combination of circumstances, heard a succession
of sounds which any member of the Beaver patrol, Boy Scouts of America,
would have recognized instantly.
It was the beaver call which consists in slapping the open palms
together violently in imitation of the play of the flat tail of the
beaver upon the surface of the water.
"Slap, slap, slap!" came the challenge from the darkness.
"That's a Beaver!" exclaimed George.
"Slap, slap, slap!" went the reply from Will's open palms.
"Why doesn't he come in?" asked George in a moment.
"I guess I'll have to go and find out!" declared Will. "This, you see,"
he added with a smile, "is the third interest to be represented here
tonight. There is no doubt but that we'll hear from the cowboys before
morning. It never rains but it pours."
"Slap, slap, slap!" came the call from the darkness again.
Will gave a low whistle in recognition of the signal and stepped
forward. An answering whistle directed his steps, and presently he saw
the light of the fire shining on the pale face of the lad who had stolen
the badge of office from the detective.
"Why didn't you come on in?" asked Will.
"Why," was the reply, "I wasn't afraid of you boys, but I didn't know
who might be watching the camp. I've been loitering around here most of
the time since dark and just got the courage to call you out. Some one
chased me away once."
"Are you hungry?" asked Will. "If you are, now's the time to say so.
Last call for dinner in the dining car!"
"Yes, I'm hungry," was the reply, "but I haven't got time to wait for
supper. If you'll snatch a loaf of bread and can of something and come
along with me, you'll do the greatest favor one Boy Scout ever did for
another. You'll come, won't you?"
"Sure I will," was the reply, "and I'll bring something more than a loaf
of bread and a can of something," he went on.
"You can't carry much," replied Chester, "for we've got a rocky road to
climb, and we'll have to go fast, too!"
"You haven't told me what the trouble is, yet!"
"It's father!" the boy answered hesitatingly. "I suppose you know now
that I didn't tell you the truth when I was at your camp. I saw John
Johnson there after I stole that bum detective's badge and ran away, and
I suppose he told you all about me."
"Yes, he did," replied Will, rejoicing inwardly that the very thing they
had been wishing for had taken place.
All he had to do now was to win the confidence of the boy, find his way
to the father, and so clear up the mystery of the Fremont case.
"Yes," Will went on, "he told me all about you and all about your
father, and I've been wondering ever since how you, a Boy Scout, could
find the nerve to make up such a mess of lies as you told to me."
"I wanted to find out what you were here for, and who you were, and get
something to eat," replied the boy, "and so I told you the first thing
that came into my head. And now," he continued, "I'm going to tell you
something that I wish might be classed as a fairy tale later on."
"Go ahead," answered Will. "Two days ago I had no idea that I'd ever
become mixed up in the Fremont case, but I'll tell you right now that
I'm becoming interested in it."
"A few days ago," the boy began, "father fell from a ledge of rock near
our hiding place and injured his head. I have taken as good care of him
as I could, but it was impossible for me to remain with him all the
time, because I had to fish and hunt and provide food for both of us."
"You're welcome to any provisions we have," said Will, feeling genuine
sympathy for the boy.
"That isn't the point now," Chester went on.
"While I was in your camp last night waiting, for the chance to steal
provisions to take back to father, he left the hiding place. I know he's
out of his head, and so I believe him to be wandering about the hills in
a demented condition. There's no knowing what will happen to him if he
is not found and placed in hiding again. I want you to go and help me
find him. The detectives who came in last night, or some time yesterday,
are here to take him back to prison, and they're likely to get him at
any minute if he continues to wander about while insane from the recent
injury to his head. There's no one to help me but you. Will you go?"
Here was the very chance the Boy Scouts had been waiting for.