CHAPTER IX

IN QUEST OF INFORMATION

Left at the camp by the departure of Ned and Jimmie, Jack, Frank and

Harry sat for a long time in the warm sunshine in front of the barrier

and discussed the situation. Gilroy had tucked himself into a collection

of blankets at the rear of the cave and was sound asleep.

“What do you think Jimmie had in his mind when he went away alone?”

asked Harry. “He merely had some plan to carry out.”

“Oh, he’s always going off alone,” Jack answered.

“Some day he’ll go away alone and won’t be able to get back!” Frank put

in. “He won’t always be able to get out of his scrapes.”

“Pretty foxy boy, that!” Jack declared.

“What strikes me as being singular,” Frank suggested, “is that Jack’s

father never said a word to him about this land business.”

“Father never talks his business over with any one,” Jack broke in.

“If we had only known about the outlaws being here in the hills,” Harry

suggested, “we might have kept out of sight of them for a long time.

But, you see, they found us first.”

“And they used a nice, crooked little spy to do it with!” Frank

exclaimed. “This little alleged Boy Scout who stole our provisions last

night, and crept into the woods to tell Jimmie and I to beat it, and

then brought a note to Ned to get him away from the camp, must be

playing a leading part for the sneaks.”

“He’s doing all of that!” Jack agreed. “I don’t believe he’s a Boy Scout

at all. He’s just picked up a word or two and a sign.”

“Perhaps we’ll run across him again,” Frank said. “If we do, I’ll find

out whether he’s a Boy Scout or not!”

“Well,” Jack exclaimed, springing to his feet, “are we going to sit here

all day and let Jimmie do all the hunting? We ought to get out in the

mountains and help find Ned.”

“Look here, boys!” Harry cried, “do you see anything to the east there

that looks at all familiar?”

“Do you mean the smoke coming up over the tops of the trees?” asked

Frank. “I noticed that several minutes ago.”

“Well, just keep your eye on it,” Harry advised, “and see if it brings

anything to your mind.”

“Sure it does!” shouted Frank, all excitement now. “There are two

columns of smoke close together, and you ought to know what that means.”

“Indian sign! Boy Scout sign! Means ‘Help is wanted’!” exclaimed Harry.

“We’ve got to go and see what it is.”

“It may be Jimmie,” Jack suggested.

“It’s either Jimmie or that messenger boy,” Frank said. “If it’s Jimmie,

he’s really in trouble, and if it’s the messenger boy, he’s doing it to

get more of us into his clutches.”

“Then we’d better go well armed and ready for any kind of a reception,”

Jack advised. “No knowing what we’ll find.”

“What’ll we do with Gilroy?” asked Frank.

“Aw, let him sleep,” advised Harry.

“Sure, let him sleep,” Jack put in. “He’ll be all right ’till we get

back. No one will molest the camp in daytime.”

“Seems to me that we ought to leave someone here,” Frank said.

“All right, you can stay if you want to!” Jack declared. “Harry and I

are going down there to see what the trouble is about.”

“Aw, come on, Frank!” Harry urged. “There won’t anything happen to

Gilroy! He may have a bad dream, but that’s about all.”

“How far do you suppose that signal is from here?” asked Frank.

“Not more than half a mile,” Harry explained.

“Then I’ll go,” Frank decided. “I don’t like the idea of sitting around

the camp and letting you boys have all the fun. Besides,” he continued,

“if it is the messenger who is making the signals, you’ll need all the

help you can get.”

“Come running, then!” advised Jack, starting down the slope.

As the reader will remember, the signal observed by the boys had been

built by Jimmie in the hope of attracting the attention of Ned, or of

Norman, the boy who had made himself so conspicuous that morning. In

building the fires and creating the columns of dense white smoke by

heaping on green boughs, the boy had not given serious thought to the

effect his action might have on his chums.

In fact, at the time of his leaving camp, he had not fully decided what

course to pursue, and for this reason he had not informed the boys of

his intention to set a signal for the benefit of the mysterious Boy

Scout. Even at the time of making the signal, he had no idea that it

would actually draw his three chums away from the camp.

He might have known what the effect would be, but, though he did stop to

consider for a moment, he did not take in the whole situation. Jimmie

usually acted on impulse, and so the signal lifted to the sky without

any explanation having been made to the Boy Scouts who were certain to

see it.

It will be remembered that when Jimmie descended from the elevation

where the fires had been built he did so in order to hasten in the

direction of a smoke signal which he saw to the north. The result of

this was that he was out of the vicinity of the fires long before the

boys reached that point.

When the three lads came to the finger of granite upon the top of which

the two fires showed, they first made a careful examination of the

thickets close by and then ascended to the top.

“These fires were made to constitute a signal, all right!” Jack

declared, poking at the now dying embers.

“Sure!” answered Frank. “You see, no cooking was done here, and there is

no camp in sight.”

“Besides, the position of the blazes on this high rock shows that the

fires were built so that the columns of smoke might be seen,” suggested

Harry. “It was Indian talk, all right!”

“Well, there’s no one here in need of help so far as I can see!” laughed

Jack, “and so we may as well go back to the camp.”

“That’s the thing to do,” Frank urged. “To tell the truth, I don’t feel

exactly right about leaving Gilroy there alone.”

“Aw, we’ll hear him sleeping before we get within a rod of the cave,”

laughed Jack. “Gilroy is a good old chap, and father thinks a lot of

him, but he doesn’t know much about this kind of a life. I’ll bet that

right now he’s dreaming about grizzly bears, and lions, and crocodiles,

and panthers.”

From their position in the forest, after their departure from the rock,

they could see nothing of the signal from the north which had attracted

Jimmie’s attention, so there seemed nothing for them to do but to return

to camp. Therefore they set out at good speed.

After a short walk, Jack beckoned the boys to his side and suggested

that they take a route to the camp different from that which they had

followed on leaving it.

“You see, boys,” he explained, “that was a signal, all right, and we

haven’t found out the cause of it. So far as we know, it was put up to

get us away from the camp.”

“I’m beginning to think it was,” Frank announced. “Either to get us away

from the camp for the purpose of capturing us, or for the purpose of

raiding our provisions.”

“Well,” Jack went on, “if we duck away to the south and return to the

camp by a new course, anyone watching for us might watch in vain.”

“That’s the idea!” Harry answered.

“Then here we go the south,” Frank suggested, starting away at as swift

a gait as was possible in the thicket.

They had proceeded but a short distance when every tree bole of good

size immediately in front of them seemed to their astonished eyes to

yield a scowling, dirty half-breed. The boys drew their guns.

“No use, lads!” a voice said, speaking in good English. “The men in the

bushes have you covered. Anyway, there’s no harm intended.”

“Why the holdup?” demanded Jack.

The man who had spoken now advanced to Jack and looked him keenly in the

face. Although carrying the general appearance of the gang of

half-breeds at his back, the boys could see by the fellow’s face and

manner that he was different from the others.

“You are Jack Bosworth?” he asked.

“That’s my name,” replied the boy.

“You are here on a mission for your father?”

“I am here on a hunting trip.”

“With business on the side, eh?”

“No business at all,” replied Jack.

“We know better than that!” the stranger answered.

“What do you want of us?” asked Jack.

“We want information now in your possession,” answered the fellow,

looking Jack sharply in the eyes.

“What kind of information?”

“We want to know where certain documents are.”

“You’ll have to ask some one else, then.”

“We are certain that you have the information we require.”

“If I had,” Jack answered, “you never would get it from me.”

“You will gain nothing by being obstinate,” the fellow said. “Remember

that we have Ned Nestor, the alleged juvenile detective, at our camp. He

seems inclined to keep what information he possesses to himself, and,

before proceeding to extreme measures with him, we decided to lay the

case before you. I am afraid Nestor will receive rough treatment at the

hands of my allies unless the information they demand is given them.”

“So that was a lying message you sent Nestor, was it?”

“There’s no use in discussing the matter at length,” the other stated.

“I think I’d better take you boys into camp and let the boss talk with

you. And let me warn you now, before anything more is said, not to

attempt resistance. If you do, there’ll be shooting done, and it won’t

be my men who will get hurt! Now, face about to the north and march away

to camp, like good little boys. We don’t want to hurt you, but we insist

on having our way in the matter of this information. Perhaps Nestor may

be able to convince you that you ought not to be so obstinate.”

“I don’t think Nestor will attempt anything of the kind,” replied Jack,

“and I think that you are a great big bluff!”

Boy Scouts in California; or, The Flag on the Cliff · 第 9 / 23 章