CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE MYSTERY SOLVED—CONCLUSION.

The sheriff was satisfied to find that he had the much sought thief in

his hands, and that the stolen property of the rich planter turned up

after a search of the interior of the shack; though some of the younger

elements in his posse felt a bit disappointed because they had had such

a small part to play in the affair, the honors of which seemed to go to

Thad and the swamp ranger.

As for the scouts, they were fairly wild with delight over the

successful outcome of their trip into Dixie. Thad declared that they

would make for New Orleans as soon as possible, where he expected to

interview the sisters at the convent school at which Pauline had been

kept for years.

Jasper, after he had recovered in a measure from his bitter

disappointment, began to show a yellow streak. Perhaps he cherished a

faint hope that if he tried to make amends Thad might interest himself

in seeking to have his punishment lightened; as though anything the boy

could do would make a difference with the stern justice of the law he

had defied so long.

He admitted before them all that the girl was the Brewster baby, and

that he had been guilty of stealing her, just to get even with those

whom he hated because he had wronged them, and had been found out. Thad

was wise enough to get him to write out a confession, and have the

sheriff and several others witness the same. He believed that this would

be enough to prove that Pauline was his long lost sister. But all the

same Thad did go to New Orleans with his chums later on, and made sure

to get the little garments which the sisters had kept all these years,

and which they affirmed had been upon the child when she was first

brought to them by the man who called himself her father, and who paid

well to have her taken care of.

They left the strange island in the heart of the quaking bog in the same

way they had reached it. And Jasper thus learned that after all he had

not been the only one who knew about that hidden ridge, by following

which the treacherous bed of slime could be safely crossed.

When the scouts once more arrived at the spot where their boats had been

left they concluded to spend the night in camp. Alligator Smith would

not leave them; but the sheriff was eager to get back with his prisoner

and the loot, so that he might claim the rich reward that had been

offered for the capture of the man, and the safe return of the stolen

property.

“Our last night in old Alligator Swamp, boys,” said Allan, as the

afternoon began to wear along, and found them very comfortable, with the

tents erected, and a cheery fire blazing near by, “and let’s make it a

memorable one by every means in our power.”

“If we’re meaning to have a real pleasant evening,” spoke up Davy Jones,

with a determined look upon his face; “then I move that the first thing

we do is to make Bumpus here sink his old suit in the swamp, and put on

his nice clean one.”

“Second the motion; and all in favor say aye!” shouted Giraffe,

excitedly.

A loud shout attested that the desire was unanimous. Even Thad nodded

his head.

“We’ve sure been a patient crowd, Bumpus, as you’ll admit,” he said;

“and now that you’ve gone and got that nasty mud plastered all over you,

we’ve reached the end of the rope. Here, take that jacket off, and hand

it to me. I’ve got an idea the truth is about to come out. Oh! no wonder

some of the boys have been complaining about this. See here, Bumpus,

your cold is better, isn’t it? You can begin to sniff around some again,

can’t you? Well, just take a whiff of this coat, and tell me what you

think!”

Bumpus proceeded to do so, while the rest of the boys awaited the

result. Sure enough, the round, jolly face of the fat scout immediately

screwed itself up as if he were not favorably impressed.

“Put your hand in the inside pocket, Bumpus,” continued Thad, severely,

“because I think you’ll find a little package done up in paper there,

and which you’ve been wondering about this long while.”

A shout went up from the other boys when Bumpus did fetch out a small

but very _powerful_ packet, tied with the red cord used by druggists in

their business.

“Why!” ejaculated the astounded Bumpus, staring hard at the contents of

his hand; “would you believe it, that’s the very package I’ve been

worrying my head off about, and never able to say whether I gave it to

my ma, or left it at the house of some fellow I visited on the way

home!”

“Yes,” Thad went on to say, “you put it in the pocket of your old

jacket; and when you got home just rolled that up, and stowed it in your

knapsack, because we were off the very next day. And when you put that

suit on down here, you had such a bad cold in the head you never guessed

a thing about it. Bumpus, do you know what that awful stuff is? Why,

it’s just asafetida, one of the rankest drugs going. Most people have to

keep it out in the barn, because it’s pretty nearly as bad as a skunk to

have around. Perhaps your mother wanted to use it for a cold. I think

that’s what they buy it for; and according to my mind it would scare any

respectable cold off in one inning. Now, you just take this coat, and

sink it as deep as you can in the swamp; yes, get in your tent and

change to your new suit. We’ve stood about all we can of this thing.”

Bumpus looked around at his seven chums, and grinned.

“Well, to think that I’d find that lost package after all; and had it

along with me all the time, but didn’t know it,” he went on to say, as

though this struck him as the most remarkable part of the whole affair.

“But we knew it, all the same,” avowed Davy; “and after you’ve loaded

that suit with a stone, and sunk five feet deep, perhaps we’ll accept

you again as a member in good standing. But you sure are the most

stubborn fellow that ever lived.”

“Anyway, my mind’s relieved of a load,” affirmed Bumpus, composedly;

“because I know now what I did with that lost package.”

He soon made the change, and then some of the boys went with him to see

that he buried the strong smelling garments where they would never come

back again; which ceremony was conducted with all manner of laughter and

boyish jokes.

True to his promise Step Hen did manage to secure that musket which the

cunning Jasper had used in constructing his man-trap; and spent an hour

extracting the load from the rusty barrel. He confessed himself very

much disappointed, however, because, after all, it proved to contain

only a single bullet instead of the handful of missiles that he had

prophesied would be found packed away there. But he took the old weapon

away with him, and declared he would hang it from the wall in his den at

home, to remind him of other days.

In New Orleans Thad easily procured all the further evidence needed to

prove that the girl whom he had found with Jasper was really his own

true little sister Pauline; and when the scouts once more reached

Cranford there was quite a furore in the town over the successful

outcome of the boys’ trip South.

Thad had even asked the sheriff about the escaped black convicts said to

be hiding in Alligator Swamp, and whom he expected to round up with his

posse after placing Jasper in a place of security; and when Giraffe and

the rest heard that there was really a fellow who was minus the third

finger of his left hand, they gave the patrol leader great credit for

reading the signs of the trail aright.

Having accomplished the one important mission that had taken them down

into Dixie, and successfully navigated the numerous perilous channels

upon which their boats had embarked, it should not be necessary for us

to accompany the Silver Fox Patrol any further in these pages; but we

shall surely hope and expect to meet with Thad Brewster and his chums

again at some time in the near future; for such wide-awake and

enterprising scouts must of necessity constantly encounter new and

interesting adventures which would be worth while telling. Until that

time arrives, then, we will ring down the curtain, and say good-bye.

THE END.

SAVE THE WRAPPER!

If you have enjoyed reading about the adventures of the new friends you

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Transcriber’s Notes

--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public

domain in the country of publication.

--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and

dialect unchanged.

--In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the

HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)

--Added a Table of Contents.

--Fixed the caption of the frontispiece illustration:

When this book and “The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island” were printed, the

captions of their frontispiece illustrations were swapped. This eText

restores the correct caption from that other book. The illustrations

themselves (and the book name portion of the caption) were printed

correctly. For reference, the other book’s caption is:

“There’s the Island!” yelled Giraffe, pointing to the right. “But

we’re going past it!” shrieked Bumpus. Page 136.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie, by Herbert Carter

The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp · 第 28 / 28 章