CHAPTER III.

WHEN BUMPUS CLIMBED OVER THE FENCE.

A brief silence followed these words of the patrol leader. Then the boys

were seen to nod their heads knowingly. It was evident that, once they

had their suspicions aroused by Thad, every fellow could see what a

dreadful mistake had been made.

"Well, I should say now that Wandering George was half a foot taller'n

either of these fellows!" declared Bumpus, being the first to control his

tongue, which was something remarkable, since as a rule he was as slow of

speech as he was with regard to moving, on account of his weight.

"And had red hair in the bargain!" added Step Hen.

"Oh! everybody's doing it now," mocked Davy Jones; "and I can see that

there ain't the first sign of an old faded blue army overcoat anywhere

around _this_ camp."

"After all, who cares?" exclaimed Giraffe, as he lowered his threatening

gun; an act that doubtless gave the two tramps much solid satisfaction.

"All of us felt mean and sore because our fine tracking game had come to

such a sudden end. Now there's still a chance we'll meet up with a few

crackerjack adventures before we pick the prize. I say bully all around!"

Davy Jones immediately threw himself into an acrobatic position, and

waved both of his feet wildly in the air, as though he felt that the

situation might be beyond weak words, and called for something stronger

in order to express his exuberant feelings.

"Yes, all of those things would be enough to convince us we've made a

mistake," remarked Thad; "and if we want any further proof here it is

right before us."

He pointed to the ground as he spoke. There were a number of footprints

in the half dried mud close to the border of the road, evidently made by

the two men as they walked back and forth collecting dead wood for their

cooking fire.

"You're right, Thad," commented Allan Hollister, who of course instantly

saw what the other meant when he pointed in that way. "We settled it long

ago that we ought to know Wandering George any time we came up with him,

simply because he's got a rag tied around his right shoe to keep it on

his foot, it's that old, and going to flinders. Neither of these men has

need to do that; in fact, if you notice, they've both got shoes on that

look nearly new!"

At that one of the tramps hastened to speak, as though he began to fear

that as it was so remarkable a thing for a road roamer to be wearing good

footgear, they were liable to arrest as having stolen the same.

"Say, we done a little turn for a cobbler two days back, over in

Hooptown, an' he give us the shoes. Said he fixed 'em fur customers what

didn't ever come back to pay the charges; didn't we, Smikes?"

"We told him his barn was on fire, sure we did, an' helped him trow water

on, an' keep the thing from burnin' down. He gives us a hunky dinner, an'

trows de trilbies in fur good measure. But dey hurts us bad, an' we was

jest a-sayin' we wishes we had de ole uns back agin. If it wa'n't so cold

we'd take 'em off right now, and go bare-footed, wouldn't we, Jake?"

"Oh! well, it doesn't matter to us where you got the shoes," said Thad.

"We happen to be looking for another man, and thought one of you might be

him. So go on with your cooking; and, Giraffe, where's that knuckle of

ham you said you hated to lug any further, but which you thought it a sin

to throw away? Perhaps we might hand the same over to Smikes and Jake, to

pay up for having given them such a bad scare."

This caused the two tramps to grin in anxious anticipation; and when

Giraffe only too willingly extracted the said remnant of a half ham which

the scouts had started with, they eagerly seized upon it.

"It's all right, young fellers," remarked the one who had been called

Smikes, as he clutched the prize; "we ain't a-carin' if we gits the same

kind o' a skeer 'bout once a day reg'lar-like, hey, Jake? Talk tuh me

'bout dinner rainin' down frum the clouds, this beats my time holler. Cum

agin, boys, an' do it sum more."

Thad knew it was folly to stay any longer at the camp, but before leaving

he wished to put a question to the men.

"We're looking for a fellow who calls himself Wandering George," he went

on to say. "Just now he's wearing an old faded blue army overcoat that

was given to him by a lady who didn't know that her husband valued it as

a keepsake. So we just offered to find it for him, and give George a

dollar or so to make up. Have either of you seen a man wearing a blue

coat like that?"

"Nixey, mister," replied Jake promptly.

"Say, I used to wear a blue overcoat, like them, when I was marchin' fur

ole Unc Sam in the Spanish war, fool thet I was; but honest to goodness

now I ain't set eyes on the like this three years an' more," the second

tramp asserted.

"That settles it, then, fellows!" ejaculated Step Hen, with a note of joy

in his voice; "we've got to go on further, and run our quarry down. And

let me tell you I'm tickled nearly to death because it's turned out so."

"Who be you boys, anyhow?" asked Smikes. "Air ye what we hears called

scouts?"

"Just what we are," replied Allan. "That's why we think it's so much fun

to follow this Wandering George, and trade him a big silver dollar for

the old coat the lady gave him when she saw he made out to be cold.

Scouts are crazy to do all kinds of things like that, you know."

"Well, dew tell," muttered the tramp, shaking his head; "I don't git on

ter the trick, fur a fact. If 'twar me now, I'd rather be a-settin' in a

warm room waitin' tuh hear the dinner horn blow."

"Oh! we all like to hear that, let me tell you," asserted Giraffe, who

was unusually fond of eating; "but we get tired of home cooking, and

things taste so fine when you're in camp."

"Huh! mebbe so, when yuh got plenty o' the right kind o' stuff along,"

observed the man who gripped the ham bone that Giraffe had tossed him,

"but yuh'd think a heap different, let me tell yuh, if ever any of the

lot knowed wat it meant tuh be as hungry as a wolf, and nawthin' tuh

satisfy it with. But then there seems tuh be all kinds o' people in this

ole world; an' they jest kaint understand each other noways."

Thad saw that the tramp was rather a queer customer, and something along

the order of a hobo philosopher; but he had no more time just then to

stand and talk with him out of idle curiosity.

So he gave the order, and the scouts, wheeling around, strode out upon

the road, their faces set toward the east. The last they saw of the two

tramps was just before turning a bend in the road they looked back and

saw that the men were apparently hard at work dividing the remnant of the

ham that had been turned over by the boys as some sort of solace to

soothe their wounded feelings.

Half a mile further on and the woods gave place to cultivated fields and

pastures, although of course it was too early in the season for much work

to be done by the farmers, except where they were hauling fertilizer to

make ready for the first plowing.

"If we get the chance, boys, to-night, let's sleep in a barn," suggested

Giraffe, as he rubbed his right shank as though it might pain him. "Where

we lay last night it seemed to me a million roots and stones kept pushing

into my body till I was black and blue this morning. And I always did

like to nestle down in good sweet hay. I don't blame tramps for taking

the chance every opportunity that opens. What do the rest of you say to

that?"

"It strikes me favorably," Step Hen quickly admitted.

"Oh! any old place is good enough for me," sighed Bumpus.

"If you can only be sure there are no rats around, I believe I'd enjoy

sleeping in a hay mow," Davy told them.

"I've never had the experience," remarked Smithy with a shrug of his

shoulders, and a grimace; "and I must confess I don't hanker much for it.

Bad enough to have to roll up in your own blanket any old time; but

spiders and hornets and all that horrible set are to be found in

haylofts, they tell me. I'm more afraid of them than an alligator or a

wild bull. A gypsy once told me I would die from poison bites, and ever

since I've had to be mighty careful."

Of course the rest of the scouts had to laugh to hear Smithy confess that

he believed in the prophecy of a gypsy, or any other fake fortune-teller.

"I wouldn't lie awake a minute," ventured Step Hen, "if a dozen gypsies

told me I was going to break my neck falling out of bed. Fact is, I'm

built so contrary that like as not I'd hunt up the highest bed I could

find to sleep on. I do everything on Friday I can think of; and when the

thirteenth of the month comes around I'm always looking out to see how I

can tempt fate. Ain't an ounce of superstition in my whole body, I guess.

Fortune-tellers! Bah! you ought to have been a girl, Smithy."

"Oh! well, I didn't say I _believed_ I'd die by poison, did I?" demanded

the other adroitly; "I'm only explaining that I don't mean to let the

silly prophecy come true by taking hazards that are quite unnecessary."

"Seems to me we've been walking like hot cakes ever since we said good-by

to Smikes and Jake," observed Bumpus, who was puffing a little from his

exertions; "and Thad, would you mind if we took a little breathing spell

about now? Just see how inviting this pile of old fence rails looks

alongside the road. I hope you say yes, Thad, because I want to get fit

to keep on the go till dark comes along."

"No objections to favoring you, Bumpus," Thad told him; "and if looks

count for anything I rather think all the rest of us will be glad of a

chance to rest up a little. So drop down, and take things easy, boys.

I'll give you ten minutes here."

"Look sharp before you sit down!" warned Smithy, who had disengaged his

blanket, as though meaning to use it for a soft cushion--time was when he

invariably brushed a board or other intended resting-place with his

handkerchief before sitting down; but the other scouts had long ago

laughed him out of this habit, which jarred upon their nerves as hardly

consistent with rough-and-ready scout life.

Giraffe had a most remarkable pair of eyes. He often discovered things

that no one else had any suspicion existed. On this account, as well as

the fact that he was able to see further and more accurately than his

chums, he was sometimes designated as "Old Eagle Eye," and the employment

of that name invariably gave him more or less pleasure, since it

proclaimed his superiority in the line of observation.

Giraffe was also a great hand for practical jokes. When some idea flashed

into his mind he often gave little heed to the possible result, but

immediately felt impelled to put his scheme into practice, with the sole

idea of creating a laugh, of course with another scout as the victim.

They had hardly been sitting there five minutes when Giraffe might have

been heard chuckling softly to himself, though no one seemed to pay any

particular attention to him.

He elevated that long neck of his once or twice as if desirous of making

sure concerning a certain point before going any further. Then, when

satisfied on this score, he glanced from one to another of his

companions, evidently seeking a victim.

When his gaze, after going along the entire line, returned once more to

plump, good-natured Bumpus, who had now ceased puffing, and was looking

rested, it might be set down as certain that there was trouble of some

sort in store for the red-haired, freckle-faced scout.

Now Giraffe was a sharp schemer. He knew how to go about his business in

a way least calculated to arouse suspicion.

Instead of immediately blurting out what he had in mind, he started to

"beating around the bush," seeking to first disarm his intended victim by

drawing him into a little discussion.

Before another full minute had passed Thad noticed that Giraffe and

Bumpus were warmly discussing some matter, and that the stout scout

seemed to be unusually in earnest. Doubtless, this was on account of the

sly assertions which Giraffe inflicted upon him, the tall scout being a

past master when it came to giving little digs that hurt worse than pins

thrust into one's flesh.

"I tell you I _can_ do it!" Bumpus was heard to say stubbornly.

"Don't believe you'd ever come within a mile of making it, and that goes,

Bumpus." Giraffe went on as though he might be a Doubting Thomas who

could only be convinced by actual contact; "and tell you what I'll do to

prove I'm in earnest. If you make it in three trials, straddling the limb

while my watch is counting a whole minute, I'll hand over that fine

compass you always liked so much. How's that, Bumpus; are you game to

show us, or have I dared you to a standstill?"

"What, _me_ back down for a little thing like that? Well, you just watch

me make you eat your words, Giraffe!"

So saying the fat scout clambered up over the rail fence, and dropped in

the open pasture beyond.

"What's he going to do?" asked Thad, as they saw Bumpus start on a

waddling sort of gait toward a tree that stood by itself some little

distance from the fence, and with a clump of bushes not far away.

He looked a little suspiciously at Giraffe, who immediately stopped his

chuckling, and tried to draw a solemn face, though he shut one eye in a

humorous fashion.

"Why, he started to boast that he had been doing some fine climbing

lately," explained the tall scout; "and I dared him to go over and get up

in that tree while I held the watch on him. He's got to start climbing

and make it inside of sixty seconds; and between you and me, Thad, I

reckon now he might manage it in half that time--if hard pushed."

"You've got some game started, Giraffe; what is it?" asked the patrol

leader, as he turned again and watched the portly scout moving like a

ponderous machine toward the tree which Giraffe had mentioned as a part

of the contract.

Giraffe did not need to answer, for at that very second there came what

seemed to be a loud bellow of rage from over in the field somewhere.

Looking hastily through the bars of the fence, the seven boys saw a

spectacle that thrilled them with various emotions.

From out of the sheltering bushes, where those keen roving eyes of

Giraffe must have discovered her presence, came a dun-colored cow.

Possibly her calf had recently been taken from her by the butcher, for

she was furious toward all humankind. Her tail was held in the air, and

as she ran straight toward poor Bumpus she stopped for a moment several

times to toss a cloud of earth up with her hoofs, for she had no horns,

Thad noted, which was at least one thing favoring Bumpus.

The Boy Scouts Along the Susquehanna; or, The Silver Fox Patrol Caught in a Flood · 第 3 / 27 章