A MYSTERY UNSOLVED
"But surely whoever was here must have left some trace," protested
Professor Zepplin.
"Perhaps you may be able to find it. I can't," answered Tad.
"We'll all look," cried Ned.
Tad nodded, and while they were scanning the ground he walked about the
outskirts of the camp with his glances on the ground. There was not a
footprint, not a thing to indicate that any person outside of themselves
had been near the camp. Tad was looking in particular for the strings
with which the stuff had been tied to the rope. Not finding these he was
certain that some human being had been in the camp.
"We shall have to make the best of it and let it go at that," he said,
returning to his companions. "Shall we go to sleep again?"
"Sleep!" shouted Ned.
Stacy popped his head out to see what the shout was about. He ducked
back again upon encountering Rector's angry gaze.
"If it isn't Stacy Brown raising a row it's Tad Butler, and if it isn't
Tad it's a midnight robber."
"Or else Ned Rector himself," added the Professor. "If you young
gentlemen will excuse me I think I shall put on some clothes. We might
as well have our breakfast and get an early start, since we are all
awake."
"I was going to suggest that," replied Tad. "I'll go rub down the ponies
while the rest of you get the breakfast."
"Shall we dress before or after?" questioned Walter.
"Before, of course," returned the Professor.
Breakfast was not a very merry meal that morning. Tad was chagrined to
think a person could get into their camp and steal a ham without his
having heard the intruder. Either he had slept more soundly than usual,
or else their late visitor had been unusually stealthy.
"I'll tell you what I think," spoke up Rector after a period of silence.
"Out with it," answered the Professor.
"I'll wager that some of these prospectors have ducked in here and taken
our stuff. There must be plenty of them in the mountains hereabouts."
Tad shook his head.
"I don't think so. I have an idea."
"What is your idea?" questioned Professor Zepplin.
"Are there Indians up here?" questioned Tad.
"Many of them."
"It was an Indian who did this job. No white man could get away with it
so skilfully. If it was, as I suspect, we might as well give it up,"
concluded Butler.
"Oh, I kissed that ham good-by a long time ago," piped Stacy solemnly.
"I don't agree with any of you," said Ned. "I think the ham, unable to
endure Chunky's singing, took wings and flew away. Either that or it was
afraid he would kiss it again. He said he had kissed it good-by."
"You are wrong," declared Walter. "If Stacy had got that close to the
ham he would have eaten it."
"You're right," agreed the Professor with an emphatic nod.
"I've got a bone to pick with you, too, Walt Perkins," warned Stacy.
"A ham-bone?" twinkled Tad.
"No, a drumstick."
"The probability is that we shall never know any more about the affair
than we do now," decided the Professor. "Break camp as soon as we have
finished breakfast and we will get under way. Have you looked to see
which way the trail leads from this point, Tad?"
"Yes, sir. That way," replied Tad, pointing.
"Northwest?"
"Yes, sir."
Camp was broken in short order and within an hour they were on their
way. Though the country was very rough and rugged and the going awful,
they found the trail narrow and perilous only in spots. Generally they
found it perfectly safe. That night they camped in a pass through which
flowed a rushing glacial stream. Tall cottonwoods lined the stream and
giant arborvitae was thick and almost impassable a short distance back
from the stream. The Professor explained that this arborvitae was
ordinarily found about glaciers, and in cool, dim fiords.
Determined not to be robbed of their provisions again, Tad led a string
through the loops made in tying the meats to the provision line. He
carried one end of the string into his tent and when he turned in he
tied the end to his wrist.
Long after midnight he felt a jolt at his wrist that brought him to his
feet in an instant. Another jolt followed.
The boy slipped the twine from his wrist and hurried out. The night was
not so dark but that he could make out objects distinctly. There was
nothing of an alarming nature in sight. He examined the provisions. None
had been tampered with.
Considerably mystified, Tad returned to his tent, after rearranging his
burglar alarm, and lay down. He had just dozed off when there came
another tug more violent than the others.
"Hang it! Something is at those provisions," he muttered.
Tad once more slipped out. This time he remained out for a long time. He
sat down behind the tent where he waited and watched. Nothing of a
disturbing nature occurred. He could not understand it.
"There must be ghosts around here," he muttered. "If there are, I reckon
I'll catch them before the night is over."
He grew weary of waiting for the "ghosts," after a time, and returning
to the tent went to bed. Three times after that was the boy dragged out
by a violent tug at the rope, and three times did he return without
having discovered the cause.
"I think I begin to smell a mouse," thought Tad Butler.
He lay down. Again came the tugs at the string. But Tad apparently gave
no heed to them. After a time he began snoring, but stopped suddenly,
pinching himself to keep awake. A few moments later he got up quietly
and went out. This time he ran the fingers of one hand along the
provision line. The fingers stopped suddenly as they came in contact
with a second string the size of the one he had used for a burglar alarm
and evidently from the same ball of twine.
"I thought so," chuckled the boy. "More of Chunky Brown's tricks. I
reckon I'll teach him a lesson and give him a surprise at the same time.
Let's see. Yes, I have it now."
Tad found a quarter inch rope. He made a slip noose at one end, working
the honda or knot back and forth until it slipped easily. In reality it
was a lasso. He tucked the loop under the rear of the tent, then crawled
cautiously in after it. Great caution was necessary in order not to
disturb the other occupants of the tent, though the boys were sleeping
soundly, Stacy snoring thunderously. The fat boy's feet protruded from
under his blanket. Tad found them after a little careful groping. He
wished to make certain that he had the right feet. Satisfying himself on
this point he slipped the noose over the feet and wriggled out.
Tad then drew the rope carefully about a slender tree, taking care that
there might be no strain on the other end about the fat boy's feet.
Using the tree as a leverage Butler gave the rope a quick jerk. A slight
commotion in the tent followed.
He now gave the rope a mighty tug. A wild yell from the interior of the
tent told that his effort had been successful. The freckle-faced boy now
began pulling with all his might, hand over hand. Stacy Brown's yells
were loud and frightful. To his howls were added those of another voice.
Stacy was sliding out from under the rear of the tent feet first, being
dragged along on his back as Butler hauled in on the rope.
But Stacy was not alone. Instead of one boy there were two. One of
Chunky's feet and one of Ned Rector's was fast in the loop. Tad had made
a mistake and selected a foot from each of the two boys.
"Something's got me!" bellowed Chunky. "Help, help!"
"It's got me, too," yelled Rector. "It's got me by the foot."
"Oh, wow, wow! Help, help!"
The two boys were fighting and clawing each other in their excitement.
Chunky fastened a hand in the hair of his companion fetching away a
handful. Ned retaliated by smiting Chunky on the nose. Then both grabbed
hold of the tent wall as they slipped out from under it feet first. The
tent swayed and threatened to collapse.
Walter Perkins was struggling about in the dark, shouting to know what
had happened. Professor Zepplin roared out a similar inquiry and sprang
from his bed of boughs. He fell out into the open in his haste, but the
night was so dark that he was unable to make out a single object. He
could hear the two boys yelling at the rear of their tent, struggling
and fighting to free themselves from the grip on their ankles.
The hauling ceased suddenly. Ned reached down and freed his foot, the
same movement freeing that of the fat boy.
At this juncture Tad Butler dashed out from the tent, to which he had
run after having thrown the freed rope away.
"Here, here, what's going on here?" he shouted.
"Something got us. It was a snake," howled Chunky. "Oh, wow; oh, wow!"
"A snake? Nonsense!" exploded the Professor. "There are no snakes in
Alaska."
"There's one here and he's the biggest one you ever saw. Why, he twisted
right around my leg and dragged me out. I think he bit me, too," wailed
Chunky.
"Somebody make a light here," commanded the Professor.
"That's what I say," shouted Ned. "You pulled half the hair out of my
head, Chunky. I'll be even with you for that."
"Did the Thing get you, too?" questioned Walter.
"Get me? I should say it did. I never had anything grip me like that."
Tad was busy starting the fire. The Professor, by this time, realized
that the boys were in earnest; that something really had happened to
disturb them, though he had not the least idea that it had been as bad
as they said.
The fire began snapping briskly. Tad was bending over it in his pajamas,
standing as far back as possible to avoid the sparks. Glancing at the
others out of the corners of his eyes, he observed that Stacy's face was
pale; Ned Rector's was flushed and angry, and Ned kept passing a hand
over his head where the hair had come out. Tad could barely keep back
the laughter.
"Now, show me!" demanded the Professor after the camp had been lighted
up.
Stacy went into an elaborate explanation of what had occurred so far as
he knew. He said something had grabbed them by the ankles and dragged
them out under the tent. He showed where they had been dragged. The
backs of their pajamas were evidence enough of this fact, the dirt being
fairly ground into the cloth.
The Professor fixed his keen eyes on the freckled face of Tad Butler.
The Professor was plainly suspicious, but he did not voice his
suspicion. Instead, he smiled to himself.
"I am going back to bed, young gentlemen, and I trust there will be no
further disturbance in this camp to-night. If there is I shall be under
the necessity of taking a hand in it myself."
"If Ned and Chunky will behave themselves, I don't believe there will be
any further trouble, sir," said Tad.
Stacy fixed a glance of quick comprehension on Butler, and Tad saw in
that one glance that the fat boy's suspicions were aroused, too. Stacy
was sharper than Tad had given him credit for being.