THE FAME OF THE SILVER FOX PATROL
"I thought so!" Thad now remarked, showing what confidence he had felt
in the decision that their best policy had been to obey orders, and come
to the shore.
Several moving figures were now seen, and coming down the rocks toward
them. In another minute's time these had resolved themselves into three
men. They did not seem to be roughly dressed at all, but might be taken
for gentlemen out to have a good time fishing or cruising.
And the boys noticed, as soon as they could see anything at all, when
Thad lighted their camp lantern, that the largest of the trio wore a
blue cap such as they had seen on the head of the man who watched their
boat through his field-glasses late that afternoon.
Undoubtedly the black boat had turned back as evening set in, and it
must have been some one connected with the party, whom they had seen
waving that light from the shore.
"Good evening!" said Allan, pleasantly, as the three men ranged up close
by and evidently looked them over; "we've surrendered, you remember.
Now, what are you going to do with six Boy Scouts off for a vacation
trip on the lake?"
At that the big man turned to his companions, and laughed. No doubt
they felt considerably disappointed, because they had somehow had high
hopes of making an important capture; but after the first keen chagrin
had passed they could enjoy a joke at their own expense.
"You'll have to excuse our bothering you, boys," said he of the bass
voice; "but you see we made a mistake. We're revenue officers, looking
for a notorious smuggler named Cranston, who operates around this
section. We had positive information that he meant to cross over from
Canada in a boat that answered the description of yours to a fraction;
and as it's the habit of these smugglers to adopt all sorts of
disguises, from honest, hard-working fishermen, to anything else that
suits their fancy, we guessed they'd taken to wearing khaki to make us
believe they were a party of the militia out for a cruise."
"And so we turned back, and planned this nice little surprise, when we
saw that you had come in here," remarked a second man, still chuckling.
"Who are you, anyway, boys?" asked the third, who seemed to have more
curiosity than his comrades, though his next words explained the reason
for this; "because I've got two sturdy scouts, in my house, and they've
become so much brighter lads since they joined the patrol that I want to
tell you I'm interested in the movement wherever I run across it. And
when I tell them about this blunder of ours I'd like to mention names,
you know."
"Why, we belong to the Silver Fox Patrol of Cranford Troop of Boys
Scouts," remarked Allan, promptly; "this is our assistant scout-master,
Thad Brewster, who happens to be the pilot of the trip because Dr.
Philander Hobbs, our real leader, had to hurry back home on business;
but we didn't worry a bit when that happened, because, you see, Thad is
capable of turning the trick; he knows more in a minute about everything
in the woods than Dr. Hobbs could learn in ten years."
"Well, well, tell me about that, will you?" exclaimed the man, with some
little excitement; "and which of you might be Allan Hollister--I reckon
you're that party right now, youngster; and this stout scout here,
surely he must be the Bumpus who got into so many bad holes, and yet
always managed to crawl out again? Yes, I'm right about that; and let's
see, which one might be Giraffe--no need to ask that, when I look around
me. Then there was, another they called Step Hen, didn't they, not to
mention Davy Jones, Bob White and Smithy? Oh, I know you all, and I
want to shake hands with each and every one of you. Say, won't my kids
go crazy when they hear that I've actually met up with that lively bunch
of scouts."
"W-w-what's all this mean, mister?" asked Bumpus, actually trembling,
not with fear any longer, but actual delight to hear himself mentioned
in this familiar way by a stranger.
"Well, I'll have to confess that I've taken such a deep interest in what
my boys are doing," continued the revenue officer, "that I even read
every book they brought into the house; and that's how I came to know
about the doings of the Silver Fox Patrol, and who the eight lads were
constituting that branch of the scouts. Give me your hand, Mr.
Scout-master; I'm proud to know you, sure I am; and I hope you'll send a
written word back home to the two ten-year old twins, who know all about
what you fellows have been doing in the Blue Ridge, up in Maine, and
even as far away as the Rocky Mountains."
The boys were almost stunned by this remarkable information; but they
hastened to accept the hand offered them, and received a hearty squeeze
in return.
"My name is Stebbens, and the boys are Daniel and Luther," continued the
officer who seemed not quite mind the disappointment of failing to
effect an important capture, when the little adventure had give him a
story to carry back home to those twins he thought so much of.
"Well all this is mighty interesting, John," said the man with the gruff
voice, and who seemed to be the leader of the revenue men; "but we
mustn't lose any more time here. The sea is nasty, but our boat can
stand it, and we know where tricky Cranston is apt to turn up before
morning, not ten miles away; so perhaps we'd better be saying good-night
to these lads, and starting out again."
He, as well as the third man, insisted on also shaking hands all around
before departing, and with such good will that Bumpus was rubbing his
fingers for quite some time afterwards, to get the numb feeling out of
the same.
But then no one found any fault; in fact they were thrilled by the
knowledge that their exploits had been read by other scouts, who
cherished a sort of friendly feeling for the members of the Silver Fox
Patrol, just from learning about their adventures in a book or so.
They did not feel at all sleepy after the three revenue men had said
good-bye, and vanished in the dark night.
"What's the use pushing out there again, and dropping the mud-hook
overboard, when we can tie up so nicely right here?" remarked Step Hen.
"Sure," echoed Giraffe, "and then, in the morning I'll show you I
haven't forgotten how to make the finest fire you ever heard tell about.
Oh I some pumpkins about that same game, ain't I, Bumpus? You ought to
know, because you saw me make one when we was nigh about froze to death
up there in Maine, and didn't have a single match along with us."
"Well, anyhow, wait till morning," said Thad, knowing that once the tall
scout got started on his favorite hobby, there was no way of stopping
him until he had the fever satisfied.
Giraffe had once made up his mind that he could make a fire in the
primitive fashion by using a little bow, and a revolving stick. Once
this trick is learned and it can usually be accomplished in a minute or
two; but most boys find themselves unable to master the feat, and give
up in despair after long trying.
The tall scout had persisted even when he met with all manner of
discouragements. Sometimes, just when he seemed on the point of
success, Bumpus would stumble over him, and end the attempt; then an
alarm would be sounded when he had gotten his tinder to smoking; and
again he lose out. But in the end he had mastered the secret, and ever
afterwards it was one of his proudest accomplishments; so that Giraffe
always carried that little bow, and some dry tinder along, whenever he
left camp, even though it would have been muck easier to put some
matches in his pocket.
Of course, as they sat there for a while longer, after the boat had been
securely tied up to the shore, the talk was mostly about smugglers.
Each of the boys told all they had ever heard about, such slippery
customers; and it added to the interest of the occasion to know that
they had just been mistaken for a notorious character, for whom the
Government revenue men were on the watch.
"All the same," remarked Bumpus, complacently, "I ain't sorry it
happened, because you see, only for their mistake we never'd aheard
about them twins, Daniel and Luther Stebbens. I'm glad you wrote out
that message for 'em, Thad; and after we get back in Cranford I'm
meaning to send 'em my picture. Their daddy said they'd like it the
worst kind; and come to think of it, I've got a few showing me astanding
with my gun acovering them two bad men as had captured me out in the Big
Timber, Davy having snapped the picture off on the spot. Mebbe they'll
like that!"
He fell to musing over the lively scenes that had accompanied the
adventure covered by this episode; and paid no further attention to the
rest of the boys, as they continued to exhaust the subject of the
smuggler fraternity.
Finally, all of them admitted that they felt sleepy; and since they no
longer had reason to experience anything boarding on alarm, it was
decided on the whole not to bother keeping watch.
Already the hour must be near midnight, and they needed sleep, so as to
be ready to take up duties of another day when morning broke.
Accordingly, each of them was apportioned a place where he could wedge
in and in some way manage to obtain the rest of which he was in such
need. Bumpus, being so round, and requiring much more space than any one
of the six, was given a chance to roll over in the wider territory close
to the doors of the hunting cabin, which were not to be closed, as the
boys felt they would need air.
He could sit up, and look around, at any time he happened to be awake;
but as Bumpus was usually a sound sleeper, none of them expected that he
would avail himself of this privilege until they scrambled over his
bundled-up figure at daylight.
In that cove at the mouth of the little creek it was as quiet and
peaceful as any heart could wish. Let the wind and the waves hold high
carnival outside, nothing gave promise of disturbing the slumber of the
tired cruisers.
An hour, two of them and more, crept by, and everything remained as calm
as when the scouts folded their blankets about them like Indian
warriors, and squeezed in where they had been apportioned.
The clouds had broken, and the moon was shining brightly in the sky
overhead when Bumpus, being awakened by some sort of dream, suddenly sat
upright, digging his knuckles into his eyes, as if hardly able to
believe that he was not safe and sound in his own bed at home.
A nasty snarl struck his ear, and gave him a shock, so that he instantly
found himself wide-awake, and looking around to see what had caused the
sound.
What he saw must have aroused the fat scout not a little, for
immediately his voice was heard in the land, arousing the balance of the
sleepers, and doubtless thrilling them through and through.
"Stop thief! Here, let that alone, I tell you! Wake up everybody, and
do something, can't you? He's getting away with my lovely trout, I tell
you. Hey! Giraffe, ain't you agoing to save your breakfast?"