A TIMELY SUGGESTION
Doctor Kane, the kindly physician from Oakvale, was just coming down
the path from the Kenyon farmhouse as Ralph rode into the yard. He
paused beside his car, seeing the lad dismount hastily and come
forward with an anxious appeal in his brown eyes.
"How---how is she to-day?" Ralph asked, when he had grasped the
doctor's outstretched hand. "Her eyes---are they------"
"No better, and no worse," replied his friend; and again the doctor
explained the situation in simple terms that Ralph could understand.
"What will the operation cost?" Ralph asked desperately.
Doctor Kane pondered for a moment.
"Well, if she will consent to go before a clinic, I think I can get
her off with a hundred and twenty-five dollars, including hospital
fees," he replied. "I'll be glad to go with her to the city, Ralph,
and pay the car fares."
Ralph knew he meant by "car fares" traveling expenses, for he was
familiar with Doctor Kane's habit of belittling his many charitable
acts. He knew also that, if necessary, the doctor would gladly
lend him the sum of money which stood, a tangible barrier, between
his mother and total darkness; but with a sense of indomitable
hope and modest pride, he had resolved not to ask for that favor,
which, he realized, would be no small one, except as a last resort.
"You're awfully kind, sir," he responded warmly. "I appreciate-----"
"Nonsense!" ejaculated Doctor Kane. "It will be a pleasure for
me to do anything I can for your mother and you, my boy. Your
father was one of the best friends I ever had, and some day I'll
tell you how I came to owe him a debt which I shall never be able
to repay. Just call on me if I can help out, won't you?"
He closed the gate and went forward to crank up his runabout, but
Ralph detained him a few moments longer, to tell him about the
encounter with Bill Terrill. When he had finished, the doctor
advised him to pay no attention to the vague overtures made by
Silas Perkins' hireling, until the doctor himself had referred
the matter of the survey to the coexecutor of Mr. Kenyon's will.
After that, it would be time to consider a sale, definitely.
"Don't let anyone bunco you, my boy," he added, as he climbed into
his car and grasped the steering-wheel. "By the way, Ralph, I saw
my friend Professor Whalen in Oakvale, the other day. He told me he
sighted a fine pair of golden eagles up here in the mountains,
recently, and would willingly give a hundred and fifty dollars for
that pair, if they're as good as he thinks they are. He wants them
for a gift to his college museum. There's a chance for you!"
"So much---for a pair of eagles!" exclaimed the boy. "Did he
really mean it?"
"I'll bet he did! You don't know what a good sport Whalen is when
he strikes any thing out of the ordinary in that line. If I were
you, Ralph"---here the doctor leaned over the side of his car,
and spoke earnestly---"I'd try to locate their eyrie and capture
them, dead or alive, Or, it might be worth your while even to lead
the professor up to a place where he could get a safe shot at the
birds. He talked of coming up here some day this week. I tell you
what I'll do; I'll send him here to you, and you can guide him."
"No, no!" protested the lad, eagerly. "Just give me his address,
and I'll do my best to get the pair for him and bring them to him
in the village."
"You can ride over with me and see him, the next time I come up here,"
said the doctor. "Good luck, Ralph!"
"Thank you, sir! Good bye!"
When the automobile skidded out of sight, leaving a cloud of dust,
Ralph remained standing by the gate, warmed by a new hope which
the doctor's suggestion had kindled in his mind. No longer did
the hundred and twenty-five dollars seem unattainable, no longer
did clouds of gloom and anxiety hide their silver lining! Here
was another way of earning money for his mother's desperate need:
an uncertain, difficult, even dangerous way, to be sure, but one
well worth trying. Yes, he would make the attempt, even though
he hated to take the lives of those splendid creatures of the
air. He determined to get those eagles for the professor.
Full of this plan, he led Keno to the stable, unsaddled and fed him,
and then, while waiting for his mother to call him in to dinner,
skinned the mink he had trapped. His active mind was busy devising
the best way of securing the prize.
In the house, he found his mother less dejected than usual; doubtless
the doctor's visit had had a cheering effect upon her. However,
Ralph said nothing to her of his new hopes, because, after all, they
might prove too slender to build upon; they might lead only to
disappointment. He plunged at once into a lively account of his
morning's hunt, and from that he went on to discuss with her the
first steps to take in the early planting.
The next morning Ralph was up before sunrise. Instead of bringing
his trapping to an abrupt end, he decided to get up at an earlier
hour than before, in order to have time for his daily rounds of
visiting the traps. He did not know which day the professor might
choose for coming in quest of the golden eagles, and he was determined
that no one should get ahead of him.
"After all, he can't come hunting up here on our land without my
permission, for that would be trespassing," reflected Ralph. "And
if he should turn up, I can tell him that I'm on the job, myself."
Two busy days passed. While attending to his traps, in the early
hours, Ralph never once allowed his rifle to lie beyond his reach;
yet a third day went by, and he had no chance for a shot at the
coveted birds of prey. Several times he caught sight of them
hovering above the gray cliffs where he knew they were preparing
to build a nest, but each time they were too far away to risk a shot.
And still no sign of the professor, or of anyone else in pursuit
of the eagles. Had the professor gone away from Oakvale, or,
on a hint from Doctor Kane, was he merely waiting and giving Ralph
every chance to earn the money? If the latter were the case, it was
quite unlikely that Professor Whalen would share the secret of his
discovery with any other possible hunter.
* * * * * * *
Several miles away from the Kenyon farm, on the shore of Pioneer Lake,
which was separated from the farm by the rugged slopes of old
Stormberg and the adjacent hills, was a fair-sized camp which bore
the same name as the lake. It was occupied every summer by a troop
of Boy Scouts under the leadership of an ex-officer of the United
States Army. In fact, Pioneer Camp was well known in that section
of the country, and Ralph had often heard of it from Tom Walsh and
Tom's young cousin, Jack Durham, who had joined the troop. At one
time, before his father's death, Ralph had longed to become a member
of the troop; but one duty or another had prevented him in the
summer, and now it seemed out of the question. Daily work, the
necessity of earning a living for his mother and himself, and the
management of his farm, demanded all his attention, and gave him no
time for play.
On the fourth day of Ralph's new hunt, he was obliged to drive over
to Oakvale to bring home groceries and provisions as well as seeds
which he had ordered. In the town market he saw Doctor Kane talking
to a tall, bronzed, soldierly-looking man who wore a khaki uniform
with the Scout Masters' badge embroidered on the coat-sleeve.
Accompanying this man was a half-breed Indian, known in that
vicinity as Joe Crow-wing, or "Injun Joe," the guide and chief
woodsman of Pioneer Camp. The half-breed hung about in the
background, conversing with two lads also dressed in scout uniform.
Catching sight of Ralph, the doctor beckoned to him.
"Come here, my boy," he said, in his cordial way, as the young
fellow approached, "I want you to meet Scout Master Denmead, who's
up here arranging for the opening of camp next month. Denmead,
this is Ralph Kenyon, a very particular friend of mine."
"Glad to know you, Kenyon," said the Scout Master, grasping Ralph's
hand. After talking with him for a few minutes, he called the
two other boys over from the counter on which they were sitting
and introduced them to Ralph as Tom Sherwood and Arthur Cameron.
"Aren't you fellows up here earlier than usual?" asked Ralph,
presently, finding his habitual reserve wearing away.
"Yes, we are," replied Tom Sherwood. "You see, we graduated from
Hilltop last February, and when we found out that the Chief was
coming up here, we asked him to take us in tow for a while before
camp regularly opened."
"He's going to give us a course in geology," added Arthur Cameron,
"and we're going to make a survey around here this summer."
"Geology!" repeated Ralph. "That's my pet subject. Some day, you
know, I'm going to study mining engineering."
"That so? Well, come along with us for a 'prelim,'" suggested
Arthur, in the true scout spirit of friendliness.
Ralph sighed and shook his head.
"Wish I could!" he admitted. "Haven't time to spare, though."
"Studying?" queried Tom.
"No, working" And Ralph stated briefly and frankly the nature of
his work.
"Like it?" again inquired Tom, who was always interested in people
and their occupations.
"I don't mind the work itself," said Ralph, "it's not half bad, you
know. But selling vegetables in the village market, and haggling
with stingy buyers over the price of cabbages and green peas, is
what gets my goat!" He laughed ruefully. "I guess I'll have to be
jogging on my homeward way," he added. "So long! Come over and
see me on the farm, if you're ever along that way. I'll show you
my traps and perhaps we can go out on a little hunt--er---that is,
if you-----"
"Thanks; we will," said Tom. "But we don't hunt animals to kill;
it's against scout rules in our troop."
"We hunt 'em with a camera," Arthur explained.
"Oh, I see. Well, so long."
The three lads shook hands.
"So long! Hope we'll meet again soon."
Ralph then took his leave of Denmead and Doctor Kane, and went on
his way, with a new idea buzzing in his mind: so they were going
to make a survey of that locality! He could invite them to
investigate his land, and---what if his father's hopes and
beliefs should prove to be founded on bed-rock? Bed-rock, rich
in ore? Could it be more than a dream? If they should discover
any iron, anything---they were nice fellows---he could trust them.
Very decent chaps to know, perhaps to have as friends. And they
didn't approve of trapping or shooting! Against scout rules, eh?
And was he---oh, well, it was fair play, and he needed whatever
extra money he could earn. Those eagles! Yes, he must not lose
any more time. The eagles would have to be the prize of his
marksmanship, even though he winged them against his will.
* * * * * * *
At the end of that week he told himself that he would have to get
the birds that day, or give up the hunt for them, and devote his
entire time to the gardens. He resolved to spend the whole day in
the neighborhood of Eagle Cliff, as he called it; for get them he
would, then or never, before going back to the presence of his
patient, pathetic, brave little mother.
Accordingly, about five o'clock in the morning, he led the faithful
Keno from his stall, and rode slowly down the dusty road until he
came to a point where the narrow bridlepath branched off the road
and wound upward into the silent woods. Following this path until
it became indistinguishable on a thick carpet of moss and leaves
and coarse fern, he reached the big boulder at last; there he left
Keno safely tied and hidden in a clump of alders. Then he went on,
several rods down the trail, and took up his position directly
across the stream from Eagle Cliff.