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UNDER CANVAS OR THE HUNT FOR THE CARTARET GHOST
THE HICKORY RIDGE BOY SCOUTS
A SERIES OF BOOKS FOR BOYS
By Capt. Alan Douglas, Scout-master
The Campfires of the Wolf Patrol
Their first camping experience affords the scouts
splendid opportunities to use their recently acquired
knowledge in a practical way. Elmer Chenowith, a lad
from the northwest woods, astonishes everyone by his
familiarity with camp life. A clean, wholesome story
every boy should read.
Woodcraft; or, How a Patrol Leader Made Good
This tale presents many stirring situations in which
the boys are called upon to exercise ingenuity and
unselfishness. A story filled with healthful
excitement.
Pathfinder; or, The Missing Tenderfoot
Some mysteries are cleared up in a most unexpected
way, greatly to the credit of our young friends. A
variety of incidents follow fast, one after the other.
Fast Nine; or, a Challenge from Fairfield
They show the same team-work here as when in camp. The
description of the final game with the team of a rival
town, and the outcome thereof, form a stirring
narrative. One of the best baseball stories of recent
years.
Great Hike; or, The Pride of The Khaki Troop
After weeks of preparation the scouts start out on
their greatest undertaking. Their march takes them far
from home, and the good-natured rivalry of the
different patrols furnishes many interesting and
amusing situations.
Endurance Test; or, How Clear Grit Won the Day
Few stories "get" us more than illustrations of pluck
in the face of apparent failure. Our heroes show the
stuff they are made of and surprise their most ardent
admirers. One of the best stories Captain Douglas has
written.
Under Canvas; or, The Hunt for the Cartaret Ghost
It was hard to disbelieve the evidence of their eyes
but the boys by the exercise of common-sense solved a
mystery which had long puzzled older heads.
Storm-bound; or, a Vacation Among the Snow Drifts
The boys start out on the wrong track, but their scout
training comes to the rescue and their experience
proves beneficial to all concerned.
Boy Scout Nature Lore to be Found in The Hickory Ridge Boy
Scout Series, all illustrated:--
Wild Animals of the United States--Tracking--Trees and
Wild Flowers of the United States--Reptiles of the
United States--Fishes of the United States--Insects of
the United States and Birds of the United States.
_Cloth Binding_ _Cover Illustrations in Four Colors_
_40c. Per Volume_
THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY
201 EAST 12th STREET NEW YORK
[Illustration: THE SCOUTS BUSIED THEMSELVES MAKING PREPARATIONS FOR THE
CAMP MEAL]
THE HICKORY RIDGE BOY SCOUTS
UNDER CANVAS
OR
THE HUNT FOR THE CARTARET GHOST
BY CAPTAIN ALAN DOUGLAS
SCOUT MASTER
[Illustration: N Y B Co.]
THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY
NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY
THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I OUT FOR SHELL-BARKS 13
II WHAT HAPPENED ON THE ROAD 25
III NEAR THE HAUNT OF "SPOOKS" 34
IV "TO THE VICTORS BELONG THE SPOILS" 45
V WHAT A SCOUT LEARNS 55
VI LOOKING AROUND 66
VII HARVEST TIME 77
VIII HOW ELMER'S PLAN WORKED 88
IX THE CAMPING-OUT EXPEDITION 99
X IN FOR A GLORIOUS TIME 109
XI SACKING THE FOREST STORE-HOUSE 120
XII THE MIDNIGHT VIGIL 130
XIII A STRANGE FIGURE IN WHITE 141
XIV TOLD AROUND THE CAMP FIRE 152
XV THE BOOGIE OF THE TOWER 163
XVI HOMEWARD BOUND--CONCLUSION 174
UNDER CANVAS
CHAPTER I
OUT FOR SHELL-BARKS
"TOBY, we must be half-way there now; don't you think so?"
"Guess you're right about that, Mr. Scout Master; as near as I can
calculate."
"Glad to hear you say so, Toby, because, excuse me for saying it, but
until I hear something that sounds like business I'm all up in the air.
I've known you to fool your trusting scout comrades before this."
"There you go, George Robbins, suspicious as ever. No wonder they call
you Doubting George. You never will believe anything till you see it
with your own eyes, and then you often wonder whether you're awake or
dreaming. Now, I told Elmer here, our Assistant Scout Master, about my
plan, and he took my word for it."
"That's all right, Toby, but unfortunately I was born different; I'm not
so trusting, and things are mighty deceptive in this world, sometimes."
A fourth boy of the party in the big wagon broke into the conversation
at this point, by laughing hoarsely, and going on to remark, with a
decided lisp:
"I bet you were, George; and I can thee you looking up at the doctor and
thaying the very first thing: 'The moon _ain't_ made of green cheeth;
and I won't b'lieve it till you prove the thame to me, tho there!'"
"Hold on, Ted Burgoyne, don't fall all over yourself about my
shortcomings; I'm not the only pebble on the beach when it comes to
that; there are others. But to return to the subject. Toby, here are
three of us burning up with curiosity to know where you're piloting this
shell-bark hickory nut-gathering expedition. You let it out to Elmer in
the start, but the rest of us don't know a thing about it. You promised
to open up when we'd got far enough along the road so there wouldn't be
any turning back. And there was something said about half-way; so now's
your chance."
"I can see you all looking my way," remarked the fifth boy in khaki,
with a peculiar little drawl, quite musical, to his voice, that stamped
him of Southern birth; "and to hurry things up I move to make the
request unanimous."
"There, you heard what Chatz Maxfield said, Toby; take the cover off,
and tell us where this wonderful bonanza lies. You promised that we'd
get every sack we're carrying along filled to the brim with dandy
chestnuts, hickories, and black walnuts. Why all this mystery? It looks
mighty suspicious to me--excuse me for saying it."
These five lads, sturdy looking chaps all of them, belonged to the
Hickory Ridge Troop of Boy Scouts, Elmer, Ted, Toby and Chatz to the
Wolf Patrol, and George to the Beaver. The troop was in a flourishing
condition, since both patrols had their full quota of eight members, and
a third one, called the Eagle, was almost complete.
Elmer Chenowith had long been leader of the Wolf Patrol, and being a
full fledged first-class scout he had quite some time back secured from
Scout Headquarters his certificate enabling him to act as Assistant
Scout Master in the absence of the young man, Mr. Roderic Garrabrant,
who usually fulfilled the duties of that important office.
These bright, wideawake lads, with others of their chums, had seen
considerable in the way of excitement during the preceding summer. Some
of their adventures and victories have already been placed before the
readers of this Series of scout books in preceding volumes, so that an
extended introduction to Elmer and his four comrades is hardly necessary
here. What has been said has only been for the benefit of such readers
as are making their acquaintance for the first time.
It was on a Saturday morning in Fall that they were driving over the
road some four miles away from the home town. A sharp frost on the
preceding night was just the thing to make nutting a success, for it
helped open the burrs on the chestnut trees, as well as caused the
hickory nuts and black walnuts to drop.
Just before Thanksgiving holidays boys may be expected to develop a
feverish longing for an outing of some sort. It had struck these scouts
in full force when Toby Jones confided to them that he knew a place
where almost unlimited amounts of splendid nuts were to be gathered with
very little trouble, only he declined to reveal his secret until they
were well on the road.
The consequence was that he had three boys guessing for the balance of
the week; and plaguing the life out of him in the endeavor to coax him
to tell. But Toby was nothing if not stubborn, and he only shut those
jaws of his tighter, and waved the tempters away with the remark that
some people called him a clam because he knew how to keep his lips
closed.
Toby was himself driving the big strong horse between the shafts of the
wagon. The conveyance belonged to his father, and it sometimes took all
of Toby's strength to hold the frisky animal in.
Toby's middle name was Ellsworth, given to him because his grandfather
had in the Civil War been connected with a regiment of Zouaves under the
famous colonel whose death at Alexandria, Virginia, occurred just about
the time hostilities opened between the North and the South.
Toby was a strange boy in many ways. He cherished a burning desire to
become a celebrated aeronaut, and by means of some wonderful invention
that would turn the world upside-down make the name of Jones famous. As
yet, however, Toby had only succeeded in patching up several
supposed-to-be flying machines, which had managed to give him a few
rough tumbles, though luckily not any broken bones. His chums never
knew what he would spring on them next, for he was constantly grappling
with puzzling questions connected with the science of aviation, and
deploring the fact that there was always something magnificent just
ahead of him that seemed to be eluding his eager clutch like a
will-o'-the-wisp in the swamp.
Ted Burgoyne had the misfortune to possess a hare-lip, which made him
lisp. He was not so sturdy in build as some of his mates, but as smart
as they make them, and with a decided leaning for the profession of a
doctor. Indeed, such was the extent of his knowledge of surgery and
medicine that he often went by the name of "Doctor Ted." And having had
occasion to perform certain necessary operations along the line of
setting broken limbs, and bandaging severed arteries, his work had been
commended by several professional M.D.'s as marvelous.
When Doubting George made that last plea of his the driver turned his
head and looked at his companions. He saw an eager glow in the eyes of
the trio who had been kept in the dark up to that moment with regard to
their mysterious destination.
"Well, we've got along so far that it ain't likely anybody'll want to
turn back, and show the white feather," he observed, with a quick glance
directly at Chatz Maxfield; "so here goes. We're headed right now for
the old Cartaret place!"
"Whew! Cartaret's Folly they call it, because the man who built the same
sank a fortune there making it beautiful, and then the owls and rats
took charge, which was all of twenty years ago, I reckon!" George went
on to say, first whistling to mark the surprise he felt over the
disclosure.
"And there's a lot of talk going around to this day about ghosts being
seen in the windows and around the grounds of that deserted place; but
most people would say that's only old women's stories. All the same
those people who don't believe in spooks and goblins and all such things
couldn't be hired for any amount of money to camp out in that big house
for just one dark night."
It was Chatz who made this assertion. All of his chums knew that Chatz
had a deep-rooted vein of superstition in his system, which it seemed
impossible for him to get rid of. He believed in spirits coming back to
haunt graveyards, and empty houses where perhaps some violence had once
occurred. Elmer and other scouts had laughed at him many times, and
Chatz even took himself to task because of his weakness, which he had
probably imbibed through association as a small child with colored
pickaninnies down on the plantation in South Carolina. Sometimes he
boldly declared he was done with such childish beliefs; but when an
occasion chanced to come along bearing on the subject it was strange how
Chatz again found himself standing up for his old-time faith in
hobgoblins, and the efficacy of the left hind-foot of a rabbit shot in a
graveyard in the dark of the moon, to ward off evil influences, and
repel the power of spooks to do bodily harm.
It was well known that many people shunned the vicinity of the old
Cartaret place, some eight miles away from Hickory Ridge, because queer
stories passed current concerning white figures seen stalking about the
weed-grown grounds, and looking out of the open windows of the ruined
house. That was why Toby had been wise enough to keep his secret until
they were so far on the road that there was little likelihood of any boy
venturing to propose that they abandon the nutting expedition and return
home.
"Well, I knew some of you fellows would be saying that," he now
remarked; "so I asked Elmer about it, and he advised me to bottle up
till we'd gone half-way to the place. So now, I hope nobody wants to go
back?"
"Oh! you needn't look at me that way, Toby," Chatz hastened to exclaim;
"p'raps I may be silly enough to believe in ghosts, but nobody ever
called me a coward; and where the rest of you go, suh, Chatz Maxfield
can be counted on to follow."
"Me too!" chirped Ted.
"P'raps now you may remember that once before we ran foul of a haunted
place up at that old mill," remarked George, "and it turned out to be
only a bunch of game-fish poachers at work there. I never did take much
stock in ghosts."
"You never take much stock in anything, suh, I notice, till you've
pulled the same to pieces, and examined it all ovah," the Southern scout
told him, quickly.
"Then it theems that you know about the thupply of nuts up at the old
Cartaret place, do you, Toby?" asked Ted.
"I asked a man who was sent up there only a couple of weeks back by the
lawyers that have the estate in charge, to look it over and see if it
was worth while to try and repair the ruined house. And say, he told me
he never saw trees loaded with such a crop of dandy nuts as there were
in that woods back of the house. You never heard of any fellows going up
there to gather hickories, did you? I guess nobody ever goes inside half
a mile of the place if they c'n help it. And Elmer, he fell in with my
scheme right away. Besides, you see, I'm taking something with me that I
hope to get a chance to try out on this trip," and Toby pointed back to
a mysterious bundle lying in the bed of the wagon, on the many
gunny-sacks that had been brought along in order to hold the anticipated
harvest of nuts for winter use.
"Well, well, well!" George exclaimed, in his skeptical way, "now chances
are that's some other foolish invention of yours, Toby--a new kind of
flying machine that'll drop you ker-plunk in a frog pond, or crack your
head on a log when you try it out."
"Nothing'd ever be accomplished in this world if everybody had your
doubting nature, George," the driver of the wagon told him; "I happen to
be built on a different model, and p'raps you may live long enough to
hear the name of Jones go thundering along the pathway of fame on
everybody's lips."
"Mebbe I will," George told him, "because they say it's getting mighty
near as common as Smith. But I'd better not say that when my cousin
Landy Smith is around. I only hope this don't turn out a hoax, that's
all. It's going to be an all day trip, and I'd hate to be sold, and come
back with one measly bag of poor little nuts to be divided among five."
"Well, now that you know the dreadful dark secret, and nobody says turn
back home," Toby announced, with a broad grin, "I'm goin' to invite the
whole bunch to stop off at this wayside grocery at the crossroads here,
and have some sarsaparilla with me. It's my treat this time."
As the road had been more or less dusty, and their throats were
accordingly somewhat parched in consequence, there was no dissenting
voice heard to this generous proposition.
"Plenty of time to gather all the nuts we want, and then make an early
start for home," Elmer told them, as Toby pulled near a series of posts
where the horse could be securely hitched.
"And the best of it is that we've thought to fetch some stuff along so
we can build a fire and have a cooked dinner," George went on to say,
with a pleased smile; for while he might be given to doubting many
things, he never had occasion to question his appetite as every one
knew--that was always in positive evidence.
All of them jumped from the wagon, which had two seats, so that three
boys could sit behind, and one with the driver. While Toby was doing
the needful with his hitching halter made of rope, the others stretched
their legs, and waited, because it would be hardly proper for them to
troop into the road grocery ahead of the scout who had invited them to
join him in a refreshing drink.
A hulking boy was leaning against the fence near by, and observing the
five scouts in a leering sort of way.
"Huh! that's Angus McDowd, one of that Fairfield bunch we beat at
baseball last summer," muttered Toby, as he happened to glance over, and
noticed the other observing them with a sneer on his face.
"Never liked him for a thent!" Ted was heard to say in a low cautious
tone; for the other boy was a strapping big chap, and if provoked might
give them more or less trouble, in a desire to fight them one after the
other, as he had the reputation of being something of a bruiser.
"My stars! but he was mad that day we won the game, though, let me tell
you, suh!" observed Chatz; "and he did his level best to get in a scrap
with some of our fellows. Felix Wagner and Tom Ballinger had to lead him
away, you remember. He doesn't like the boys of Hickory Ridge any too
well, believe me, fellows."
They all went inside the little dusty-looking building, where some
enterprising man had started a wayside grocery, and general store, at
which you could purchase nearly anything from a paper of needles to a
coffin, or an automobile tire, and gasoline.
Fortunately the man happened to have some stray bottles of soft drinks
like sarsaparilla and root beer that must have been left over from his
summer trade; and presently each of the scouts was washing the dust down
his throat.
Altogether they may have spent about ten minutes in the store; and then
after Toby had settled the account, they again passed out to the wagon.
The loitering Fairfield boy had disappeared, as Elmer noted when he
looked over toward the fence where Angus McDowd had been standing on
their arrival.
"Now, what ails you for a silly thing, Nancy?" said Toby, as the mare
laid back her ears, and pranced at their approach. "Been getting too
much oats lately, I reckon, with too little exercise. Well, you won't be
feeling so fresh and frisky by the time we get back home to-night. That
load of nuts is going to make you puff, let me tell you. Pile in,
fellows, while I unfasten the hitching rope. Whoa! there, don't you dare
try to bite me, you horse with the nasty temper! Why, this is a new
trick for you to show. Grab the lines, won't you, Elmer? The blame nag's
that anxious to show off she'd leave me in the lurch! Let up, there,
can't you?"
It was only by making a hasty jump that agile Toby managed to gain his
seat, to take the taut lines from Elmer's hands. Immediately the mare
commenced to rear up in a most remarkable manner. Then, taking the bit
between her teeth, she started along the road, fortunately in the right
direction, at a whirlwind pace, amidst a cloud of dust, and with the
three scouts who had been sitting on the second seat tumbling around in
a heap in the bed of the wagon, all of them having been thrown backward.
Even as the grocery keeper came running out of the door to see what was
the matter, and while they were still within hearing distance of the
place, Elmer felt sure he saw a head rise into view above the pig-pen
situated on one side of the road, and could recognize the grinning face
of that Fairfield loafer, Angus McDowd.
There was no time to say anything. The mare was undoubtedly running
away, and the wagon flinging from side to side in the road, as Toby
stood half erect, pulling with might and main on the lines in the
endeavor to hold the frantic animal in.
It began to look like croaking George might have been right when he said
he doubted whether the nutting expedition would be much of a success.