A CAMP SUPPER
The two boys stood there looking for a full minute. Hugh had
discovered the presence of a light in the cabin about the same
time that Bud mentioned the fact. It could be seen shining through
the aperture that had once been used as a window. There was no
glass in this now, and a heavy shutter, hung on rusty hinges, gave
the only means of keeping out the cold air, though this had not
been closed by the unknown party within.
"Whoever can it be?" muttered the disgusted Bud, doubtless begrudging
that long tramp from the road where the friendly farmer had dropped
them.
"Perhaps some one who's thinking of using the old shanty as
headquarters while trapping this season," Hugh replied. "You know
Ralph Kenyon used to take quite a lot of pelts around this region
before he joined the scouts and changed his mind about that sort of
thing."
"Then you don't think it could be a hobo?" queried Bud with a
relieved vein in his voice.
"Well, tramps nearly always stick close to the railroads, you know,"
the other observed with the air of one who had made it a point to
take note of such happenings; "and besides, what hobo would think
of wandering away up here so far from a base of supplies? But we
can settle all that easy enough, Bud."
"By going on and breaking in on him, you mean?" questioned the other
eagerly.
"Yes, though perhaps first of all we'd do well to creep up and take
a look in at that opening. A scout should be sure of his ground
before he takes a leap. It isn't always so easy to go back again."
"All right, Hugh, let's start right in and have a squint at him.
Seems to me I get a whiff of cooking, don't you?"
"Yes, I noticed that, Bud; and also that he's got a fire burning in
there. You can see it flicker, and that wouldn't happen if the
light came from a lantern, or even from a torch."
"Smells good, too. That fellow knows how to cook, whoever he is,"
remarked the other scout, sniffing eagerly at the air as he spoke.
Hours had passed since dinner-time and they had had a hard tramp.
They advanced quickly though cautiously. Their hearts were beating
faster than usual, perhaps because they had been carrying heavy
loads. Then again there was a chance that the moment's excitement
had considerable to do with the quickening of their pulses.
Arriving alongside the wall of the lonely cabin that had been built
many years before by a man who meant to start a farm up in this
region, the boys hastened to glue their eyes to the opening.
What they saw astonished them and at the same time relieved their
feelings. There was but a single occupant of the cabin, and he a boy
about their own age, also dressed in the khaki uniform of a scout.
He was busily engaged in cooking some supper, and apparently did not
suspect the presence of any one near by.
"Why, it's Ralph Kenyon!" gasped Bud. "Whatever can he be doing all
by himself up here?"
Hugh could give a guess. He knew that in times past the young chap
in question had made it a practice to trap the little wild animals
that might still be found in the woods and swamps of that region,
for the sake of the money he could get for their fine furry pelts.
This was before he joined the scouts, which was soon after valuable
ore had been discovered on the Kenyon farm and a strip of land sold
to the railroad, these transactions placing the family on a secure
financial foundation.
Evidently as the cold weather came on, Ralph had been tempted to
wander over to his old stamping-grounds, not to set traps as of
yore or shoot any of the timid woods' animals for the sake of their
warm coats, but just to revive old recollections.
He had evidently fetched his double-barrel shotgun along with him,
since it stood in a corner; and he was evidently cooking a brace
of fat quail which he must have managed to knock down on his trip
up here.
From the way he cocked his head just then it seemed as though
Ralph must have thought he had heard some strange sound. Perhaps
Bud had spoken louder than he had meant to do. But then there
was no need of further holding back. Ralph was a member of the
same troop as themselves, and while perhaps Bud would have preferred
not increasing the number of witnesses to his own triumph or rank
failure, he saw that it could not be helped. And Bud was one
of those who can make the best of a bad bargain. Besides, Ralph
was a good fellow, and generally well liked by his companions.
Instead of calling out and telling the boy inside the shack that
a couple of weary wayfarers had arrived and meant to join him,
Hugh saw fit to give the recognized signal of the Wolves: "_How-oo-oo_!"
twice repeated.
Then as Ralph sprang to the door to take away the prop with which he
had secured it, Hugh and Bud pushed into the interior of the cabin.
Ralph stared at them but seemed decidedly pleased, for he instantly
thrust out his hand in friendly greeting.
"Well, well, who'd think you would drop in on me as if you came from
the skies?" he was saying as he worked Hugh's arm like a milkman's
pump handle. "You see, I've been coming out here for several years
every Thanksgiving afternoon to set my first traps of the season;
and while I don't expect ever to do it again, I just couldn't keep
from spending one night in the woods to revive old recollections.
But I'm tickled to death at the idea of having company, for it does
get mighty lonesome sometimes. Whatever are you doing up here, Hugh
and Bud?"
So, as Hugh waited for his companion to explain, Bud began to tell
how he had been up to his old tricks again and believed that he had
invented something that was going to be a stunning success; also,
that he had coaxed accommodating Hugh to go off with him in order
to try it out in secret.
"Of course, since we find you in possession of the shanty where we
meant to put up for one or two nights," Bud continued, with a grin,
"why, I'll have to let you share my secret tomorrow when we start
to try it out. Till then don't ask questions and I'll tell you no
lies. And I want to inform you right now that what you're cooking
for supper sets my nerves on edge, it smells so good."
"That's lucky," remarked Ralph, "for I have just four more fat juicy
quail on hand. I made a double shot into a covey that got up in
the brush. If you fellows say the word, I'll start right away to
get them ready for the pan."
"You'll do nothing of the kind," chuckled Hugh, who, like Bud, had
deposited his burden in a corner, "we're only too glad of a chance
to help pluck a few feathers ourselves. It's enough that you make
us a present of what you meant probably to take home to your mother."
"Oh! I can get others later on," observed Ralph, as he pointed
to the little heap of brown and black feathers which marked the
spot where the unused birds lay. "You see, she's not feeling
very well, my mother, I mean, and somehow quail on toast always
appeals to her. But while you're working there, let me make more
coffee. Have you got cups and such things along in your packs, boys?"
"We have," declared the overjoyed Bud; "and this bird is just prime;
never saw a fatter one, I declare. Say, Hugh, we didn't expect such
a bully treat as this, did we, when we aimed to get here in time to
cook supper?"
Preparations progressed rapidly. As Ralph had already stowed away
quite a large quantity of wood for use during the night, that labor
was spared the two late arrivals, which fact pleased Bud very much.
He could work as hard as the next one when interested in what he was
doing, but gathering fuel had never appealed to him in the same way
it did to Billy Worth, who was all the time figuring out what
splendid things the wood could be used to cook.
As the three boys sat around eating the evening meal, they chatted in
a lively manner. Hugh told how he and Bud had had a fine lift by
means of the farmer's wagon, and then continued:
"I suppose you started this morning, and on that account missed your
Thanksgiving turkey, Ralph? But you said your mother was not
feeling well; and so perhaps the feast has been postponed at your
house to a more convenient time?"
"Just what it has," replied the other. "You see my married sisters
are expected home on Saturday night, and so mother decided to let
the big dinner go until Sunday, when we'll all be together again.
I just took a snack to munch on at noon, and brought some things to
cook. I got here two hours back, and had plenty of time to fix
things as I wanted them for my one night out."
"Perhaps you'll make it two, if we decide to stay that long, eh,
Ralph?" asked Bud, who was feeling much more warmly toward the other
since partaking of the delicious quail. "You see, we've got plenty
of rations along for three, and you'd be as welcome to share with us
as a shower in June."
"I'll see about that to-morrow afternoon, Bud," replied the other.
"But before I forget it, I want to tell you boys about a couple of
queer men I happened to see while coming through the woods not more
than a mile or so away from here."
"P'raps timber prospectors" suggested Hugh; "I've known of such men
to come up in this region trying to spy out new fields for operating
their destructive saw-mills. Somehow I hate to see the forest
wiped out that way. A tree takes some hundreds of years to mature,
and then it goes down in a heap, to be sawed up into boards. It
seems like a shame to me every time I think of how the timber is
disappearing. I believe in the work of the Forest Reserve Board.
It's high time this country began to think of keeping what it's got
before everything is lost. But tell us about these men that you saw.
They were not tramps, Ralph?"
"Oh, no, they were dressed too well for that," replied the other
quickly. "I happened to sight them in time to duck behind a tree,
and they never once suspected that anybody was near. One was a tall,
thin man, a German, I thought, while the other was dark and
short,---fact is, I took him for a Chinese, a Japanese or a Korean
from the color of his skin and his black bristling hair."
"That sounds interesting, anyway!" commented Bud. Then he added with
a little amused laugh, "P'raps they've heard in some mysterious way,
Hugh, how a celebrated young inventor named Bud Morgan means to try
out his latest wonderful stunt, and they hope to steal the concrete
result of his budding genius. But go on, Ralph. What did they do
that looked suspicious?"
"Oh! their every action struck me as queer," Ralph continued.
"You see they talked in a low voice, put their heads close together,
looked all around as if they were afraid some one might be watching
them, and then moved off, always turning to the right and to the left.
You know when valuable iron ore was discovered on our farm, for a
long time afterward strange men came prowling around there. It struck
me these fellows might be looking for something like that."
"Perhaps they're really civil engineers, meaning to run a line across
here in order to straighten the railroad and save time on through
trains," Hugh suggested, leaning back after finishing his meal.
"That might account for it," Ralph admitted, "though they acted
mighty strange to me. I never let out a peep till they'd disappeared
from sight; and even then I thought it best to change my line of
advance for fear that I might stumble on the precious pair again.
Really now, I'd give a cooky to know just who and what they are,
and why they've come away up here where only charcoal burners can
be met as a rule."
Bud had opened his mouth to make some remark, sighing to think how
he was utterly unable to eat another bite, when there was a sudden
vivid flash as of lightning without that startled all the scouts;
and immediately following came a tremendous roar similar to a clap
of nearby thunder!