THE LITTLE BRASS GOD
After a time George and Sandy heard some one running through the
undergrowth, and the next instant Will and Tommy burst into view.
It was evident that they had been running, for they were panting
and their clothing was disarranged and torn in places.
The two boys hastened out to meet their chums with question marks
in their eyes. Will and Tommy offered no explanation until the
tents had been reached, then Tommy burst into a low chuckle.
"Can you beat it?" he asked.
"What are you talking about?" demanded George.
"What did you see out there?" asked Sandy.
"We didn't see a thing!" declared Tommy.
"You're wrong there!" Will cut in. "We saw the flash of a gun!"
"Some one shoot at you?" questioned George.
"Perhaps not," Will replied, "but I heard a bullet whizzing past my
ear! That's not a very warm welcome to this blooming country, I
take it."
"What's it all about?" asked Sandy impatiently.
"That's the answer!" Tommy declared. "That's all we know about it
ourselves. We hear a paddle splash in the water; we go out to see
what's doing, and we get a chunk of lead plugged at us. That's the
answer so far as I know. Now, how about this fish?"
"Right as a book!" cried Sandy. "I've been taking care of this
fish while you've been out there facing some boy with an air gun."
"Yes," laughed Tommy, "if you want to find boys with air guns, come
out here about three hundred miles north of nowhere!"
The incident did not seem to affect the appetites of the boys, for
they attacked the fish industriously. When the meal was finished
and the dishes cleared away; Will turned to his chums with a sober
look on his face. When he spoke it was with suppressed excitement.
"Do you boys know exactly why we are in the Hudson Bay country?" he
asked, "How much did Mr. Horton tell you?"
"Nothing at all!" Tommy replied.
"He just told us to come with you!" George cut in.
"When I tried to cross-examine him," laughed Sandy, "he said he was
afraid we wouldn't go if he told us what sort of a game we were
mixing in."
"Well," Will went on in a moment, "he told me to tell you after we
got into camp on Moose river."
"Go on and tell us, then," chuckled Tommy.
"I don't believe it's any great mystery!" Sandy interrupted.
"We came here," Will said, speaking seriously, "to find the Little
Brass God. Odd sort of a quest, that, eh?"
"What's the Little Brass God?" demanded Sandy.
"Did you think it was a load of hay?" asked Tommy. "The Little
Brass God is the Little Brass God. Didn't you know that?"
"What does any one want of a Little Brass God?" asked George.
"The Little Brass God," Will explained, "is believed to be
valuable, chiefly for what is contained in his belly."
"So this is a stuffed god?" cried Tommy.
"Has he eaten something he can't digest?" cut in Sandy.
"That just explains it!" Will exclaimed. "He has eaten something
he can't assimilate, and we've been sent up here to relieve him of
it!"
"How did the Little Brass God ever get into the Hudson Bay
country?" asked Tommy. "I should think he'd know better."
"I reckon the Little Brass God had nothing to say regarding his
journey," replied Will. "Two months ago the house of Mr. Frederick
Tupper, on Drexel Boulevard, Chicago, was burglarized. Besides
taking considerable money and silver plate, the thief also carried
away the Little Brass God."
"I don't think any thief in his right mind would do that!" declared
Sandy. "What could he do with a Little Brass God? He couldn't
pawn it, or sell it, or trade it, without its being traced back to
him!"
"Well, he took it just the same!" Will replied.
"How much is he worth?" asked George.
"Not more than five dollars."
"Then he isn't one of those East India Little Brass Gods with his
legs crossed, and his arms folded, and a grin on his face?"
"His legs are crossed, his arms are folded, and there is a grin on
his face!" replied Will with a smile. "But he's certainly not one
of the population of a Hindu temple."
"He's just a common Little Brass God, probably made in Newark, New
Jersey," suggested George. "What do they want him for?"
"They want to search him!" replied Will.
"Aw, come on, tell us all about it!" urged Tommy.
"Well," Will explained with a smile, "the tummy of the Little Brass
God IS supposed to contain the last will and testament of Simon
Tupper, father of Frederick Tupper."
"Gee!" exclaimed Tommy. "Can't he get the property until he gets
the will? Then we'll have to find it, I guess!"
"No, he can't get the property unless the will is found."
"Who stole the Little Brass God, and also the will?" asked George.
"Did he know he was stealing the will when he stole the Little
Brass God?" asked Sandy without giving Will an opportunity to reply
to the previous question. "How'd he know the will was there?"
"We don't know whether he knew about the will or not," answered the
boy. "In fact, we don't know whether the document is still in the
tummy of the Little Brass God. That's what we've got to find out."
"You didn't tell me who stole the Little Brass God and the will,"
insisted George.
"I said it was a burglar!"
"But was it a burglar--a real, genuine burglar?"
"Yes, loosen up!" shouted Tommy. "Did he go there just to burgle,
or did he go there to get that will?"
"That's another thing we've got to find out!" Will answered. "It's
just this way," the boy continued. "We've been sent up here to
find this Little Brass God. When we find it, we'll know whether
the man who stole it was a common thief, or whether he was sent by
interested parties to do the job. No living person can open the
Little Brass God without first learning the way to do it. In fact,
the only way the toy can be opened by one unfamiliar with the
secret is to break it open with an axe! And that would hardly be
done, as the little fellow is rather a cute plaything."
"And so, if the will is there, a burglar stole it. And if the will
is not there, some one interested in the disposition of the
property walked away with it! Is that it?"
"That's the way we figure it out!" Will answered. "And in the
meantime," he continued, "an older will is being offered for
probate. If the Little Brass God fails to disclose the last will,
the property will go to a young man who was intensely hated and
despised by the man who built up the fortune. Simon Tupper will
turn over in his grave if Howard Sigsbee, his nephew, has the
handling of that money."
"I can't see how that's going to get Simon anything!" grinned Tommy.
"Now," George asked, "why do they think the Little Brass God was
brought into the Hudson Bay country?"
"We have traced it to an antique shop on lower State street," Will
answered. "From there to the shabby parlor of a fourth rate
boarding house on Dearborn avenue, from there into the possession
of a French Canadian who hunts and fishes in the Moose river
district."
"That's pretty straight!" George agreed.
"How do they know this French Canadian got this Little Brass God
out of town?" asked Sandy. "You take a French Canadian of the
trapper sort, and get him well tanked, and he'll sell the ears off
his head for another drink of brandy. Perhaps he hocked the Little
Brass God."
"If he did," Will answered, "the search must begin all over again!"
"Who put this will in the tummy of this Little Brass God?" asked
Tommy.
"The man who made it--Simon Tupper," answered Will.
"Did he tell anyone where it was?"
"On his deathbed, he told Frederick Tupper, his nephew, where to
find it. It's a pity the young man didn't remove the document and
file it in probate court. It would have saved a lot of bother."
"But he didn't," George suggested, "and that gives us a fine trip
to the Hudson Bay country."
"When was the house of this Frederick Tupper burglarized?" asked
Sandy.
"On the night following the death of the old gentleman."
"Had the villain of the drama, this Howard Sigsbee, any knowledge
concerning the hiding place of the will?"
"He was not believed to have."
"Do they think he went there and got the will himself?"
"Huh!" objected Tommy. "If he'd gone after the will himself, he'd
have taken it out of the Little Brass God and carried it away with
him. And he'd have made a pile of ashes of it in about one minute,
at that!"
"Perhaps he couldn't open up the merry little chap," Sandy
suggested.
"We don't know whether he understood the secret or not," Will
answered. "All we know is that the Little Brass God was still
intact a week after it had been stolen."
"Then he knew the combination, or he didn't get the will!" argued
George.
"Anyhow!" Tommy laughed, "we've got only about a million or more
miles of country to search over for a little brass god about -----"
"Say, just how big is this Little Brass God?" asked Sandy.
"He's about six inches in height, and three inches across his dirty
shoulders, and he certainly is about the ugliest specimen of a
heathen beast that ever came down the pike."
"What would that French Canadian buy him for?" asked George.
"That's another thing we've got to find out," replied Will.
Tommy was about to ask another question when Will held up a hand
for silence. The leaping flames were sending long streamers of
light into the thicket on either side and over the glistening
waters of Moose river. The circle of illumination extended for
some distance on every side, except at the back of the tents, where
the level ground lay in shadows.
As the boys listened, the soft sound of a moccasined foot came to
their ears. It seemed only a yard away, and yet it was not in
sight. George dashed to the back of the tents, followed by a sharp
cry of alarm.