BACKED BY SCOUT COMRADES.
Gus staggered over to a rude chair made from hickory branches, and threw
himself down, covering his agitated face with both hands. Arthur looked
ruefully at Hugh as though hardly knowing what to make of these strange
actions on the part of the boy whose rich father owned this deserted
lumber camp.
The coming of Billy, loaded down with traps, broke in upon the dead
silence that seemed to grip them.
“‘Everybody works but father!’” sang out the stout boy, cheerfully, as
he cast his burden on the puncheon floor, it consisting for the most
part of camping blankets of gray material, and which had seen
considerable service in times gone by.
“Well, we don’t expect you to do it all, Billy,” remarked Arthur, as he
hurried outside once more.
Hugh, too, busied himself, knowing that in all probability Gus would
explain what his queer words meant, in his own good time. The boy was
beginning to master his feelings when the others came in again, each
loaded with packages of food, clothes-bags, and such things as a camera,
a shotgun, an ax, and the cooking utensils they knew so well.
Gus offered to assist them, but Hugh declared they were more than half
done, and that another trip would finish the job.
“When you come back again,” said Gus, evidently determined to explain
things at the start, “I’ve got something I want to tell you all.”
A short time later, everything having been carried under shelter, Hugh
and the other pair gathered close around Gus, who was now smiling
bravely, though still laboring under considerable excitement bordering
on keen disappointment.
“Don’t bother telling us a thing unless you really want to, Gus,” said
Hugh in his kindly fashion, but the other nodded his head as he went on
to say:
“Oh, I meant all along that you should know,” he said. “Fact is, I
couldn’t have gotten along even a little bit without explaining why I
was urged to come up here by my mother, and without father knowing a
thing about it.”
He sighed again, and then went on bravely. Hugh saw by the way he
compressed his lips that it hurt Gus keenly to say what he meant to, but
that even this would not keep him silent. After a moment he started to
say, grimly:
“Perhaps you’ll remember that once upon a time I had an older brother by
the name of Sam. Most people believe Sam went out West to live with an
uncle who had a ranch there; but the truth of the matter is he had a
terrible quarrel with father, and was turned out of the house! That’s
been the skeleton in the Merrivale closet ever since, and Sam’s name has
never been mentioned to my father by any of the rest of us.”
Gus swallowed hard to master his emotion, and then proceeded with his
story.
“Sam was a lovable fellow, only weak, and he fell in with a bad lot who
dragged him down. From the day he disappeared, now some four years back,
none of us have ever set eyes on him. I’ve got a suspicion that my
mother tried to keep in touch with him, for once I saw her get a letter
that had a Chicago post-mark on it; but that was three years ago. Since
then I don’t believe even she has known whether poor Sam was alive or
dead.
“Then a short time ago she learned something that has caused her plenty
of sleepless nights, let me tell you. I don’t know just how the news
traveled, but it was to the effect that Sam had come back to his old
haunts, accompanied by another tramp; he had fallen as low as that, and
was believed to be lying sick up here at the old lumber camp.
“My father is an awfully stern man, you must remember, and mother is
afraid of his terrible temper, so she didn’t dare speak to him about it.
Finally, she took me into her confidence, and begged me to fix it so I
could go off on a camping trip, running up here to see if there was any
truth in the rumor she had heard, and if so to do what I could for my
brother Sam. But you can see he isn’t here, and I’m afraid it was a
false alarm. Oh, I’m sorry for my poor mother, that’s all!”
Gus looked as though about to break down again, seeing which Hugh
hastened to say something.
“But hold on there, Gus,” was what he remarked, hastily and cheerfully;
“remember that a scout doesn’t give in so easily as all that. It’s true
your wandering Brother Sam doesn’t seem to be here now, but that’s no
reason he hasn’t occupied this bunk-house of late.”
“Hello, that sounds like you have seen signs, Hugh!” exclaimed Arthur.
“Well, I have,” came the answer. “Let’s look around a bit before we
decide that there was nothing back of the story. Here you can see
there’s been a fire lately on this broad hearth where the cooking is
done. Like as not the last time the loggers were here was many months
ago, and the rain coming down the broad chimney would have leveled the
ashes, which you see isn’t the case right now.”
The scout master bent down and placed his hand on the heap of ashes. He
quickly drew it back again, and turned a smiling face toward the other
boys.
“Try the test and see for yourselves,” he urged, which every one of the
others hastened to do, also receiving a surprise in turn.
“Why, what d’ye think of that, it’s actually _warm_!” exclaimed Billy,
as he started to wring his fingers as though he had burned them.
Gus stared hard at Hugh. The pallor was leaving his face, while a
sparkle as of revived expectation and hope could be seen in his
tear-dimmed eyes.
“What does that mean, Hugh? Oh, please tell me, because it seems as if I
couldn’t collect my wits enough to reason it out!” he begged, laying a
quivering hand on the khaki sleeve of his chum.
“Well, there’s certainly been some person or persons holding forth here
not so long ago,” said the other, with the positiveness of conviction.
“You can see signs where they’ve done some primitive sort of cooking.
Here’s the head of a rabbit which no doubt they snared or shot; and over
there are scales showing that they found some way of getting fish out of
the stream.”
“That’s so, every word of it!” said Billy Worth, who would, however,
have unhesitatingly believed Hugh, no matter what sort of theory the
other advanced.
“Now, let’s look around a little further, and perhaps we can find out
something else,” continued the energetic scout master. “For instance,
this bunk has been occupied lately, I should say from the looks of
it—and the next one ditto.”
“Then that would mean just two men had been in here, wouldn’t it?” asked
Gus, feverishly. “The report mother received stated that Sam had one pal
along with him.”
“And over by the fireplace,” remarked Arthur, “I saw a couple of old
tomato cans that had been used for cooking coffee in, some time or
other; which I happen to know is a favorite trick among
hobo—er—traveling men of the railway ties.”
Gus smiled faintly at hearing Arthur so hastily change his words.
“Oh! don’t worry about hurting my feelings when you call my brother a
tramp,” he went on to say. “He’s done enough to nearly break his poor
mother’s heart, but you know a mother will keep right along loving a
fellow no matter how wicked he’s been. So she sent me up here on this
wild-goose chase, hoping I might talk with Sam, and find out if he
didn’t want to make one last try to be decent again.”
“Well, we’ve got a whole week to find him in,” remarked Hugh,
encouragingly.
“But why do you suppose they cleared out of here in such a big hurry?”
asked Billy, seeking enlightenment from the source that seldom failed
him.
“That’s a question that might have a good many answers,” Hugh told him.
“It may be that, well, the hobo who is with Sam has reason to be afraid
of the officers of the law on account of something or other he’s done. I
kind of think he must have sighted our car coming along the logging
trail several miles off, for you know it took us quite some time to get
here from the main road. So he hurried Sam away with him, taking along
what little they had.”
Gus bent his head to hide the tears that came unbidden into his eyes. He
knew Hugh was saying that partly to shield Sam, for there was nothing to
tell them it was not the latter who had good reason to shun the officers
of the law.
“Well, we’ll try and unravel all this conundrum a little later,” Billy
remarked just then. “Let’s get settled first, and after that look around
some. If Sam is sick I shouldn’t think he’d be able to get very far away
from here. We’ll find him yet, see if we don’t, Gus! In fact, I feel
sure we will!”
“It’s mighty good of you all to stand by me the way you do,” whimpered
Gus, as he shook hands first with Billy, and then the others in turn.
“Shucks!” snorted Billy, himself winking pretty hard it must be
confessed, for the stout boy had a very tender and sympathetic heart.
“What’re scouts good for if they can’t back each other up when trouble
swoops down, tell me? I wouldn’t give five cents for a fellow who wore
the khaki and turned a cold shoulder to a chum in time of need.”
“It’ll all come out right, Gus, you can depend on that,” said Arthur,
stoutly.
How could any boy give way to despondency when surrounded by such loyal
comrades? Gus soon mastered his feelings, and even assisted the others
get the various bundles unfastened. There is always something
fascinating about this game of preparation, especially to boys who know
the delights of camping out; and in good time Gus had apparently decided
in his mind that the sky did not look quite so gloomy and forbidding.
Soon they were all working enthusiastically. A lot of things had to be
attended to, such as chopping firewood, making up the bunks, undoing the
food supplies, a task no one but Billy dared undertake, and all sorts of
other duties too numerous to mention.
Then they decided to have a warm lunch before looking around outside.
Gus had so fixed the car that it could not be stolen; at the same time
the top was left raised in order to protect the interior in case of a
heavy storm.
The time passed away as the afternoon advanced. Hugh had a dozen things
he wanted to do, but for the time being he allowed them to take a back
seat. There would very likely be an abundance of time to accomplish them
all later on; first in order was this heart service of Gus Merrivale’s.
Hugh—yes, and both Billy and Arthur as well—could easily picture the
intense anxiety of that poor mother waiting at home to learn about the
fate of the wanderer for whom she still yearned. Yes, and what must make
it doubly hard was the fact that she stood in such awe of her husband,
and dared not even hint at the fact that the long-absent one was again
near his old home from which he had been so summarily thrust.
“I’ve got in touch with the trail they left when they went away,” Hugh
announced late that afternoon, coming back to the bunk-house after an
absence of half an hour. “I followed it some little distance by means of
the holes made by a cane one of the two men was using to help him walk.
Then I struck some stony ground where I lost the tracks. But the first
thing in the morning I’ll lead you to the spot, and we’ll see whether
scout-craft is worth its salt or not.”
Gus beamed on the speaker. It could easily be seen that the boy’s heart
was in the task that had been committed to his hands by the one he loved
so dearly. Hugh only hoped circumstances would be such that Gus could go
back home bearing some good news for the suffering mother of Sam
Merrivale.
“It’s a good thing we’ve got this comfortable camp, let me tell you,
boys,” Billy was saying later on, as he listened to the rising wind
sighing around the corners of the log bunk-house. “Unless all signs
fail, there’s going to be something of a storm coming this way before
another sunset.”
“I’m afraid you’re right, Billy,” agreed Arthur, “because it’s warm for
the time of year. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a regular whooper
out of that quarter, with the trees going down all around us like they
did two years ago.”