THE CAMPFIRE ON RATTAIL ISLAND
"Give us a hand, Frank. Honest, now, I'm that stiff I can't get up
myself," and Lanky, after making several violent efforts, sank back
with a grunt.
"Here you are, then; but it's a case of the blind helping the blind.
I'm not much better off myself, though able to move without a crutch,"
with which remark Frank jerked his chum erect.
"Tip us your fin, and we'll do a double shuffle. In union there is
strength, you know," laughed the afflicted one.
"Yes, and the tumble will be all the more complete if we both go over
in a heap. But I guess those long legs of yours will soon get working
all right, Lanky."
"Why, I feel better already. Once warmed up, and the joints begin to
work without so much creaking. But, honest Injun, Frank, I don't seem
to hanker after this little skate as much as usual."
"Same here. But it won't be long. We're about half way up to the
island now, and still going some," remarked the other in his optimistic
fashion.
"And methinks I see a glimpse of a fire beyond, unless my eyes deceive
me. What do you make out, partner?" asked Lanky.
"I thought I did too, a bit ago, but some tree must have come between.
No, there it is again. That's Bill's campfire, all right, never fear,
Lanky."
"Bill, I reckon, will be some surprised to set eyes on us, eh?"
chuckled the bearer of good tidings, well pleased with his mission.
"I don't see how he could well help it," returned Frank.
"I hope nothing stops us in our little game," remarked the other.
"See here, are you beginning to have doubts already? Is it possible
that after all you said, you're not quite so dead sure as you might be
that this Bill of Rattail Island is little Willie, the long-lost sheep
of the Baxters?" demanded Frank, pretending to be very severe, which he
was not by any means.
"Oh! no, it isn't that. I was only wondering whether anything could
have happened to Bill since we saw him last. It struck me then that he
was kind of in the dumps. I hope he's all right," said Lanky.
"Oh! splash! you're tired, and only trying to imagine things, that's
all. Look for yourself, and see his fire burning. That's evidence of
Bill being on the spot. And just then I saw some person pass in front
of the blaze. It's all right, Lanky."
"But look there," said the other skater, "who's that crossing from the
shore to the island? I declare, two, three of 'em. Bill's going to have
more company than just us two."
Frank was surprised himself to discover the moving figures. They seemed
to be endeavoring to advance with more or less caution, as though
desirous of coming upon the camper without any notice.
"A set of tramps meaning to gobble poor old Bill's camp, and capture
anything he's got," muttered Lanky, as the two boys skated quietly
behind an outlying spur of the island, where they too could advance
without being noticed.
"Hold on, apparently you didn't notice all I did," said Frank, in a low
but earnest tone.
"Meaning what?" demanded his comrade, eagerly.
"Why those three chaps were dressed in uniform; and unless my eyes
deceive me in this moonlight the big fellow in the lead had a mighty
familiar look, Lanky."
"You don't mean Chief Hogg?" exclaimed the one addressed, in rising
alarm.
"Just the one I did mean. I'm almost sure it was our old friend,"
replied Frank.
"But what could he want up here, and with our pard, Bill?"
"Wait and we'll see, that's all," came from Frank, as they kept on
silently advancing so as to come upon the fire.
"Say, what did I tell you about a warning in my bones? There's
something going to happen that ain't on the bills, though it may be on
this Bill," groaned Lanky.
"Keep still, now; we're nearly there. Creep up behind this clump of
bushes at the point, and let's see the show," whispered Frank.
In another minute they had drawn close enough to easily see the tramp.
He was sitting there looking into the heart of the blazing fire; and
Frank imagined that Bill seemed rather glum, as though his thoughts
were not very happy ones.
"Look at the bushes just back of him--something moving there. What did
I tell you? It's Chief Hogg, and he's coming out," whispered Frank.
"With two of his men in tow. Oh! what has Bill been doing? I hope
nothing serious, nothing to get him trouble just when things look rosy
for the poor chap."
"H'sh!" was hissed into Lanky's ear.
Bill sprang up a few seconds later. He looked with some surprise at the
three uniformed men so near by; but Frank noticed that the tramp did
not seem to be at all alarmed at his situation.
"Don't try to get away, you!" said the big officer, threateningly.
At this Bill laughed harshly.
"I'm not likely to, mister. Come and sit down beside my blaze. Glad you
dropped in on me. Must have known I wanted a little help just about
now."
Chief Hogg walked straight up to the tramp and looked in his face. He
even put out his hand and felt of the straggly beard as if desirous of
making sure that it was genuine, and not assumed.
"'Taint him, Whalen! That imp Lef Seller done us up when he sent us on
this fools' errand," he remarked, vigorously, turning to one of his
companions.
"But we want to make sure. They say that Bill Brockholt's a crafty
cove, all right," declared one of the minions of the law, suspiciously.
"Well, say, he's only been out of the stone jug a couple of days, and
this critter's got a beard that's been growing some months. No, 'taint
the Bill we want," and the stout chief shook his head in disgust as he
contemplated the two mile return trip.
"But we might as well grab this feller on some charge, after all our
trouble. Just think up something or other, Chief. Never like to come
in empty-handed, after startin' out for game," persisted the other
officer, stepping around so as to cut off any possible flight, should
the tramp dream of attempting it.
Frank nudged his chum.
"Come on; now's the time to say a good word for Bill," he remarked.
Upon which the two boys showed themselves.
"Hello! Chief!" cried Frank, cheerily, as he skated ashore, and
advanced near the campfire of the tramp.
"Why, if it ain't Frank Allen! What's the good word, my boy?" asked the
stout official, who regarded Frank as the finest boy in all Columbia.
"We've been up-country at the new Baxter farm, and had the pleasure of
helping to put a fire started by the very rascal you're looking for,
Bill Brockholt. Not only that, but we helped chase after him until he
dropped the clothes he was carrying off to make use of in changing from
his striped convict suit. He was just what they described him in that
circular, a foot shorter than this man, and with a smooth face."
Bill had stepped forward while Frank was talking, and the boy, who had
purposely mentioned that name, saw the start he gave.
He nudged Lanky in the ribs again, as if to say: "It's all right; this
is the Bill you're looking for; he gave himself away that time!"
"Too bad you didn't get him, Frank, you're so lucky in all such things.
But you must tell me all the particulars. There's a reward out for
Brockholt, and some of us want to claim it," observed the police
officer.
"Hey, Chief!" sang out Whalen at this juncture, "come here and take a
look in his old shack! Told you he must have some pal along with him.
Perhaps there is a whole gang afloat here."
Frank, looking quickly at the other, saw Bill smile broadly. He knew
from this that the tramp was not trembling in fear.
"I just got a poor feller in there, Chief, that turned up cold, and
wanting lodgin's. Stir him up, mister, and pull him out here," observed
Bill, mysteriously.
Whalen vanished within the shack. They could hear him speaking, and
gruff tones in reply. Then out came the officer, dragging a figure
after him.
"Why, he's tied up as neat as you please!" exclaimed Chief Hogg.
"Course he is. They told me Bill was a desperate man, and I didn't want
to take chances," replied the tramp, calmly.
"It's sure Bill Brockholt!" ejaculated Whalen, bending over the
prisoner.
Frank had guessed this already, and he felt like throwing up his cap
with delight. Willie, the returned wanderer, had indeed vindicated
himself in the eye of the law.
Lanky rushed up to the tall tramp and grasped his hand.
"Bully for you, Willie!" he cried, exultantly, "that's the time you
did it! I've been just cracking my brain to remember where I saw you.
And it just burst in on me when we were up at the farm. You're wanted
there, Willie, and wanted bad. Just you get moving in the morning, and
fill in the gap where you belong!"
The other shook his head sadly.
"I reckon you don't just know why I left home, Lanky," he said,
mournfully.
"Oh! but we do though; and that long-lost pocketbook has been found!"
cried Lanky.
"That's good news you're telling me, boy!" burst out in hoarse tones
from the tramp; while Chief Hogg and his assistants looked up from
examining the prisoner to gaze more critically at the speaker, as a
suspicion of the truth began to dawn upon their minds.
"My chum here found it back of the lower drawer in the old man's desk.
My! but your father was staggered. He just sat there and groaned as he
looked at it, and wished he could only see you again to make it all up.
We didn't tell him, because we wanted to make sure it was you. But take
my advice, Bill, and skip up there in the morning the first thing. Sure
there'll be a warm welcome for you."
"I'll do it, Lanky, and a thousand thanks to you and Frank Allen for
bringing me this good news. I won't sleep a wink to-night; but it'll be
happiness that keeps me awake, not grieving. Shake hands with me both
of you. I'll never forget it, never!"
Neither of the boys at that moment regretted the additional effort they
put forth in order to carry the happy news to the outcast of Rattail
Island. He looked supremely overjoyed as he squeezed their hands.
"Tell us about this here cove, Bill; how did you happen to lay hands on
him," asked Chief Hogg, at this juncture.
"Oh! he dropped into my camp a little while back, and wanted to run
things just as he pleased. But you see, the boys had posted me about
his ways, and watching my chance I nabbed the gentleman, and tied him
up, thinkin' of that nice little reward that would be coming to me,"
answered Bill; while the man on the ground said a few things not at all
complimentary to his captor.
"It looks like he made a haul of clothes somewhere," remarked Frank;
for Brockholt certainly was not wearing the suspicious striped suit
which he had on at the time of the late pursuit.
"Yes, and they're a mile too big for him too," grinned Officer Whalen.
"Untie his hands, and let me fasten him with steel bracelets," remarked
the Chief; which kind attention had to be forced upon the culprit, who
seemed to have no appreciation of the shining articles with which these
others insisted upon decorating his wrists.
They soon took him away, and when their voices had died out in the
distance, the two boys sat down alongside the newly-revived fire.
Willie Baxter was anxious to hear all the particulars connected with
the finding of the lost pocketbook.
Between them Frank and Lanky told the story, the latter supplying all
particulars which the modest participant would have omitted could he
have done so.
"Ain't sorry you came along with me, Frank?" asked his chum, later on,
when they had said good-night to Bill, and were skating rather stiffly
down the Harrapin.
"Not a bit of it. That has just been a great treat to me. I reckon Bill
Baxter is about the happiest fellow in the county to-night. And just
think of what will happen when he shows up there to-morrow! I'm glad
you gave him another dollar besides what I had along with me. He wants
to go to town and get spruced up a bit, have his beard taken off, and
get a few duds. And Bill declares he'll pay every cent of the loan back
out of that three hundred coming to him," replied Frank.
"I was just trying to imagine how Dora would feel when she knows that I
had a hand in bringing the wandering Willie home," mused Lanky.
"Oh!" laughed Frank, "I guess you've feathered your nest there, my
boy!"