THE LIGHTS ARE REVEALED.
Merle Riker carried the names of his six new subscribers to Morrison’s
office only to discover that Morrison was out. Wearily he sat down
into the big chair to wait. He had accomplished what had seemed to him
impossible a few days before. And he wanted Morrison’s approval. And
after that he wanted Renfro Horn’s.
“He taught me how to do it,” Merle had told Jimmie Noel on his way to
the office. “Renfro Horn is a good sport.”
“He’s a good scout,” Jimmie added soberly, “And that reminds me. I
haven’t seen Renfro all day. Let’s go out there tonight and have a talk
with him.”
Merle promised. “My mother doesn’t care for me being out at nights when
I’m with a boy like Renfro Horn,” he explained. “Meet at the corner
drug store?”
Jimmie had agreed to that meeting place. Just as soon as Morrison came,
Merle decided he would rush home, announce to the Riker family they
had a Thanksgiving turkey, eat a hurried supper and come back to the
meeting place and then go to the Horn home.
But Morrison didn’t come. The clock struck six-thirty, seven, and then
Merle rose. He went straight to the corner drug store, met Jimmie, and
took him home with him. So Jimmie heard Merle’s announcement about the
Thanksgiving turkey and witnessed the joy it created. And as soon as
Merle had eaten his supper they started back to the Horn residence.
But there they faced another disappointment. Mary Dugan told them
Renfro wasn’t home, was still out on his route and that they could walk
out to meet him if they wanted to see him.
“She isn’t cross usually,” Jimmie volunteered. “But she’s tired out or
something. Usually it’s as Hooch says, ‘Mary Dugan is the best scout of
them all.’”
Together the two boys walked out toward East Washington Street, but
though they watched every corner and every car they didn’t see Renfro.
“Might as well give it up,” Merle was disappointed, “and go home. I’ll
tell him in the morning.”
“We’re near the Globe office,” Jimmie offered. “We might go past and
stop in to see if Morrison’s back. You’d like to tell him, if he’s
there--wouldn’t you?”
They went to the carrier’s room, found it empty but the door to
Morrison’s was ajar. Jimmie started toward it and stopped, his
attention suddenly riveted by voices he heard. “But his mother must not
know.” It was Mr. Horn talking.
He recognized Bruce answering. Morrison too chimed in. And little by
little Jimmie learned the whole story--of how Renfro had been kidnaped,
of how they were keeping it a secret and of how they hoped in this way
to get a quicker solution of the kidnaping mystery.
Jimmie, when he learned all the particulars, pushed Merle back out onto
the street again. “How much did you hear?” he there demanded.
“Not enough to understand anything except that Renfro has been
kidnaped, too, just like Helen Wier,” Merle was inclined to be gloomy,
“and they were both my friends.”
“And we’re not to tell a word we heard,” Jimmie caught Merle’s arm and
shook him. “Do you understand? Telling this would hurt Renfro. It
would lessen their chances to find him. We’ve got to keep still and--”
“Help find him,” Merle answered, the steel in his eyes shining so that
Jimmie could see it as he never had before.
Jimmie Noel stopped. “Wait,” he commanded, “Wait a minute. I have to
think.”
For fifteen minutes Merle waited. Then Jimmie drew him toward the
corner. “Can you stay out very late?” he asked. “It may be all night. I
have an idea. It may be nothing and again it may reveal to us where and
how Renfro was kidnaped. Can you go out to ‘Twin Cedar Cabin’ with me?
And stay all night?”
Merle nodded. “I’ll call mother. If I tell her we’re going out there to
see Renfro, she’ll be all right,” he explained, “and that is what we
are going to do if he’s there--isn’t it?”
“You bet!” Jimmie’s spirits were soaring, “I’ll telephone, too. And
I’ll tell Jack Burton we’re going. I won’t tell him about Renfro but
I’ll ask him to go along. He has some sense and he may help out some.”
They separated and a little later they met, having deemed it more safe
to use different telephones. “Jack can’t go,” Jimmie explained. “His
brother raised a row against him going and so he has to stay at home.”
On the way out to the camp, Jimmie explained many things to Merle--of
how when the cabin had been purchased and he had heard the story of the
two chiefs who had fought for the hand of the pretty white girl, he
and one of the young scout masters had decided to add to the lure of
the place for all good scouts. They had gone out secretly and dug two
graves, burying two old skeletons which had been in the trash room of
the high school.
“It wasn’t hard to believe those skeletons belonged to Indians,” Jimmie
laughed, “so we named the graves those of Wampum and Big Eagle.”
And then he told about the odd lights which they had seen on the nights
they had been there. “Now I was suspicious,” he added, “and began to
study ways those lights might have been made. And I just discovered the
other day. Someone who wanted to keep anyone away from that cabin could
have placed a number of batteries there and then operate them from
quite a distance. I believe that is just what someone is doing.”
He drew a deep breath. “Every time any of the fellows go out to the
cabin to stay all night they watch for the lights and they are not
disappointed about seeing them either. So it stands to reason that they
are being operated to keep scouts away from that cabin. Now, tonight
we’ll lay for those fellows. I have a hunch we’ll find a fellow who is
connected with Renfro’s kidnaping.”
Merle listened while Jimmie made his plans. They would go to the cabin,
light the lamps, and build a roaring big fire in the fire place. Then
Merle would stay in the cabin while he--Jimmie would go to the graves,
hide near there and watch for some sign of life.
They reached the cabin safely. The lamps were lighted, the fire made,
and then Jimmie slipped out of the cabin. A little later, Merle,
following directions, extinguished the lamps and crept to the window.
He looked down toward the mounds. And soon his watch was rewarded.
Violet and blue lights alternately played over the graves. They left
for a little while and then they came back. For about fifteen minutes
they lingered this time and then they suddenly went dark again.
Merle waited. Minutes passed, and then longer minutes. But the lights
did not come back. Nor did Jimmie. This was a hard wait for Merle. He
began to wonder if anything could have happened to Jimmie. He had been
told before Jimmie left not to dare leave the cabin but just stay there
and watch. Something of unusual importance might happen right there.
And just as he was about to throw Jimmie’s commands to the winds and
leave the cabin to search for him, Jimmie appeared. He was a ruffled,
muddy Jimmie. “Great Scott!” he ejaculated, “I was never so disgusted
in my life. If I hadn’t had that club in my hand and given them a dozen
or more healthy raps I would feel like batting my head in the hope I
could get some more brains into it.”
He went to the fireplace and sat down. “It was just as I thought,” he
said. “Those lights came from electric batteries. Only they belonged
to the high school boys who want this cabin. They tried to get it when
the scouts got it but we had the most money. Jack Burton’s brother
led the gang. Whenever Jack would start out here they would come and
operate their battery system. They thought they would scare us out
pretty soon.”
Merle was quite as disappointed as Jimmie. He came over and sat down
beside him. “I ran into the whole nest of them,” Jimmie continued, “and
I knocked them right and left with my club. I think they thought I was
a score of scouts for they ran--FROM ONE BOY,” he laughed.
Merle laughed with him. “But that doesn’t help us with Renfro,” he
began suddenly.
“No,” Jimmie shook his head, “Poor old Hooch! Wouldn’t he have liked to
be in on this tonight?”
Later they snuggled up in their blankets and went to sleep. And when it
was morning they soberly went back to town, both of them with one great
determination and one secret in their minds. They were going to keep
still about Renfro Horn’s being gone and at the same time they were
going to help hunt him.
“Tonight, I’m going to walk over his route after I carry mine,” Merle
assured Jimmie, “and hunt out every suspicious looking person on it.
Want to go along?”
“Yes, sir,” Jimmie was emphatic.
“And keep still all day?”
“You bet!” Jimmie’s lips went close together.
“Then tonight at six o’clock,” Merle had the last word, “and meet me at
Flaherty’s butcher shop.”