HUNTING FOR THE MISSING SCOUT.
"Honest, now, Elmer, do you really believe that?" asked Chatz Maxfield,
after staring at the scout master in a puzzled manner for half a dozen
seconds.
"It looks so, on the face of it," replied the other.
"But plague take it," argued Chatz, "for the life of me I just can't
understand, suh, what those fellows would want to make a prisoner of
poor Nat for. In all our troop he's about the most harmless scout,
except perhaps Jasper Merriweather. Nat is strong as an ox, but he
wouldn't hurt a fly if he could help it."
"That's so," echoed Lil Artha. "I've seen him walk around so as not to
step on a harmless little snake on the road. And it wasn't because he
was afraid of snakes, either. Remember he killed that fierce big
copperhead last summer, after the other fellows had skipped out?"
"There's one chance, though," Elmer went on, "that after all Nat may be
hiding."
"But he knows the sound of the bugle, and what penalty follows
disobedience on the part of a scout," declared Lil Artha.
"That's true enough, fellows," Elmer said, as if he himself might be
trying to see through a haze; "but perhaps Nat finds himself in a
position where he can't answer us without betraying himself to these
unknown men."
Again did Chatz and the tall scout look at each other helplessly. And
judging from the way they shook their heads, the puzzle was evidently
too deep for them.
"Say, Elmer, you manage to get on to these things in a way to beat the
band; could you give a guess now about how many men there are holding
out around this old haunted mill?"
Lil Artha asked this in good faith. He had come to believe, with most of
his comrades, that Elmer Chenowith was next door to a wizard. Of course
they realized that his knowledge was at all times founded on facts and
common sense; yet this did not detract from the wonder of his
accomplishments.
"I think there are three at least, perhaps four or five in the lot,"
Elmer replied.
"Whew! that's a healthy crowd of toughs, now, to run up against!"
remarked Lil Artha.
"And what do you propose doing, suh, if I may make so bold as to ask?"
Chatz was usually a very dignified fellow, especially when coming in
contact with one who, according to recognized scout law, must be
considered his superior officer, and as such entitled to respect.
"First of all, perhaps we'd better go outside," the other replied.
"And tell the rest of the boys what we've found--or rather what we
didn't find," remarked Lil Artha.
"Yes. There doesn't seem to be anything more to poke into here; for I'm
dead certain those men, whoever they are, don't make their headquarters
in either the mill or the cottage."
"You mean they don't sleep here; is that it, suh?" inquired Chatz.
"That covers the ground," Elmer answered.
"But they _do_ come in here sometimes, while the sun is shining,"
persisted Chatz.
"I have seen the marks of many heavy hobnailed shoes in the dust of this
place; and some of the prints were very fresh," came the answer.
"Then if they're wanting in the nerve to sleep under this roof, when it
would be so handy, in a thunderstorm like we had the other day, for
instance, that looks as if they believed some in the ghost story, don't
it, Elmer?"
"Why, I suppose it does, Chatz."
"All right. I'm not saying anything more," remarked the Southern boy,
with a look of conviction on his dark face, "but I only hope we run
across one or more of these mysterious unknowns while we're up at
Munsey's mill."
"Listen to that, would you, Elmer! I declare if he don't mean to
interview these fellows, and find out what they've gone and seen here in
the night time!" and Lil Artha chuckled as he said this.
"All right," remarked Chatz. "There are a lot of things I've always
wanted to know, and I'd be a silly to let the chance slip past me."
"Hey, how about this bally old trapdoor, Elmer?" demanded Lil Artha.
"We'd better put it back where it belongs," replied the scout leader.
"I reckon you're right, suh," observed Chatz. "If some one came in here,
walking in the dark, he might take a nasty header down this hole."
"Say, supposing your ghost did that," remarked the tall scout, as he
helped lift the wooden square back to where it belonged; "why, you could
do better than asking questions of an outsider, because, Chatz, you
might interview your old ghost himself."
The other drew himself up.
"Kindly omit calling it _my_ ghost, if you please, suh," he said,
stiffly. "I don't pretend to have any claim on the object in
question--if there really is such a thing. I'm only wanting to know; and
I come from South Carolina, suh, not Missouri."
Elmer, after one last glance around the kitchen, was heading for the
other room where an exit could be made.
And it was almost ludicrous to see with what haste the other two
followed after; just as if neither of them cared to be left alone inside
the walls of the haunted mill cottage.
Once outside, they found several of their comrades clustered near by,
evidently awaiting them. That curiosity was rapidly reaching fever heat
it was easy to see from the anxious looks cast upon those who had been
investigating the interior of the buildings.
No doubt every fellow had meanwhile been industriously engaged in
ransacking his brain to remember all he had ever heard concerning
Munsey's mill, and the troublesome spirit that had frightened away three
separate tenants in years gone by.
They were rather a demoralized trio of boys who welcomed the coming of
Elmer, Chatz, and Lil Artha.
"Find any signs of Nat?" asked one.
"Hope the plagued old ghost didn't get him," another ventured.
"Tell us all about it, Elmer?" asked the third member of the little
bunch.
But the scout leader instead raised the bugle to his lips and sounded
the assembly call.
Voices were heard, and immediately the others came hurrying to the spot.
Landy was the last to arrive, and he came up puffing and blowing as
though he might have been at some little distance when he heard the
summons for gathering.
"Listen!" said Elmer, raising his hand, and immediately the confused
chattering of many boyish tongues ceased.
This enabled them to hear distant shouts from the southeast, as though
newcomers might be approaching the mill over about the same course as
that they had pursued.
"Mark Cummings and the last detachment!" declared Matty.
"Hurrah! six more good fellows to do battle with the outlaws of the
haunted mill!" exclaimed Red; at which some of the others gasped in
astonishment, and exchanged uneasy glances.
"Better wait till they all get here, boys," said Elmer, "and then I'll
tell you what we've found out, also what we suspect."
Chatz and Lil Artha could not but notice how particular Elmer was to use
the plural pronoun. But then, that was always his way. Whatever faults
the boy may have had--and the best of fellows comes far from being
perfect--selfishness was not one of them. Impatiently they waited for
the coming of the six scouts forming the last detachment. This would
increase their roll-call to sixteen, lacking only _one_ of the number
that had started out.
Presently a sight of khaki uniforms among the trees announced their near
approach.
As the two wings of the Hickory Ridge Troop of Boy Scouts came together,
there was a general exchange of badinage.
The newcomers had an intense desire to learn whether their
interpretation of the messages might excel that of the first detachment.
But in the midst of the questioning, the startling news concerning Nat
Scott's mysterious vanishing began to circulate among the newcomers.
This put a quietus on all business, and the entire troop clustered
around Elmer, begging to know what it could mean.
So the scout master, understanding just how his comrades must feel,
started in to explain, as far as lay in his power.
First of all, for the benefit of the newcomers, he told of how Nat's
disappearance was brought to his attention by Toby and Ty, just before
the coming of Matty and his group of scouts.
Then he quickly related what he and Chatz and Lil Artha had done in the
deserted buildings close by.
Presently the story was finished, and some of the boys, who had listened
with hearts beating much faster than their wont, took the first decent
breath in five minutes.
Of course questions poured in on Elmer as thick as hail stones during a
summer storm. Finding it utterly impossible to answer a quarter of these
intelligently, and make any kind of progress, Elmer called for silence.
"It stands to reason, fellows," he remarked, when the last whisper had
died away, "that we've got to have system about this thing if we expect
to do any business. Am I right?"
"Yes, yes," came from every scout; for boys though they were, they
recognized the wisdom of what he said.
"All right, then," Elmer went on. "I'm going to divide the troop into
three searching parties. We must scour the neighborhood and see if we
can find any sign of where these unknown men sleep, for there isn't any
trace of their staying in cottage or mill at night time."
"We understand what you mean, Elmer. How shall we divide up?" asked
Mark.
"You keep your detachment as it was, intact, Mark," came the reply; "and
Matty, you have your six to back you. Lil Artha, Toby, and Ty will fall
in with me, and make the third party."
"All right, suh, we understand," called out Chatz.
But he, as well as many others of the boys, showed in their faces that
they envied the good luck of the three fellows who had been picked out
to form Elmer's smaller group.
"What are our duties to be?" asked Mark, who, having only recently
arrived, and being staggered by the sudden nature of the intelligence,
had as yet not fully grasped the situation.
"First of all, let every scout who has not already done so, pick up a
stout club in the woods, as he passes along," said Elmer.
"Like this, for instance," remarked Jack Armitage, flourishing a husky
specimen that would pass muster for an Irishman's shillalah.
"Or this!" cried Red, whose cudgel was as long as a walking stick, and
almost as thick through as his wrist.
"Suit yourselves about that, boys," continued the scout master, "only
don't be in a hurry to use them as weapons until you have the order.
Now, each detachment must keep close enough together so that the
members may communicate by means of patrol calls--the cry of the wolf,
the slap of a beaver's tail as he beats the water to call his mate, or
the scream of the eagle."
"We know, Elmer; what else?" asked Matty.
"All the while you will keep on the lookout for some sign of the enemy.
The scout who discovers anything that he thinks would have a bearing on
the solving of the puzzle must immediately summon his leader. This he
can do by the whistle which all of you know, as it has been used
before."
"Is that all, Elmer?" asked Mark.
"If the matter seems very important to the mind of the leader, let him
give the assembly call very loud on his whistle. Upon hearing that,
every scout is expected to give up hunting on his own account, and head
in toward the place the signal comes from. Is that plain to every
fellow?"
A chorus of assent answered him.
"That's all, then, fellows," Elmer went on. "Do your duty, every scout.
We've got to find our comrade, and we've got to get him out of the hands
of these men, whoever they may turn out to be."
"If they've hurt our Nat, it's going to be a bad day for them, that's
all," blustered Red, as he pounded his club against an inoffensive
stone.
"Now, start out, fellows, and let's see who'll be the lucky one to
discover this hidden shack where these men must stay nights," Elmer
concluded.
"Say, hold on here! Is _that_ what you're looking for--a hidden shack?
Why, I can take you to one right now," called out a voice.
The speaker was Landy Smith.