THE THINGS THAT MAKE BOYS MANLY.
MR. GARRABRANT laid his plans during the night, and when morning came he
announced them to his boys.
"I shall take these two men down to Rockaway to-day," he said, "and
deliver them over to the authorities. Ginger will accompany me, and
between us we can pull the boat up the current again, starting possibly
in the morning. If we arrive there in good time, I may get a car and
drive over to Hickory Ridge, for there are several things I ought to see
about, that slipped my mind before."
"And if you happen to see anybody who asks about us, sir, just tell them
we're getting along dandy," declared Lil Artha.
"So say we all of us," sang out several others of the scouts.
"Tell my folks they were poor prophets," remarked Jasper Merriweather.
"In what way, my boy?" inquired the scout master; though, truth to tell,
he could give a pretty good guess.
"Oh! ma, she said she'd give me one night to stay away; and pa, he told
her that two would see my finish. But here we're going on our first
week, and I'm feeling just fine. Not a bit homesick, tell 'em, Mr.
Garrabrant, please. And bound to stay the whole ten days, or bust."
"Good for you, Jasper, old top!" laughed Lil Artha, patting the real
tenderfoot encouragingly on the back.
"And Mr. Garrabrant," put in Ty Collins, who was a pretty good "feeder"
as some of the other boys often remarked, "don't you think you might
pick up a little more grub while you have the chance. You see, we didn't
count on so many mouths to feed while we were up here, and the way that
stuff is disappearing is sure a caution. I know, because I do a lot of
the cooking, you see, sir."
"Why, yes, Tyrus, I had that on my mind," laughed the jovial scout
master. "And we'll try and find room in the boat for a nice ham, some
bacon, and a few more things that boys like. I guess I'm a good
provider, taken on the whole. You see, we didn't count on feeding Abe
Morris and his family, or these two gentlemen here, besides the
frolicsome monkey that has taken a fancy for our eatables. If I happen
to run across Colonel Hitchens I shall let him know we've got an eye out
for his runaway pet."
The two men were allowed to eat breakfast, one at a time, and Mr.
Garrabrant and Ginger stood over them while the operation of feeding was
in progress. Much as both of the desperadoes might have liked to attempt
flight, they lacked the nerve to start trouble when those two stalwart
men were within reach. And so, although they scowled and muttered, they
made no resistance when they were tied up again.
Mr. Garrabrant had found quite a nice little assortment of deadly
weapons upon the pair, which he had confiscated. These he meant to take
along with him, not feeling safe in leaving such things in camp, where
several of the boys were quite unaccustomed to handling firearms, and
some accident might ensue, for which he would be responsible.
Although no one suspected it until they heard the click of his shutter,
Mark had managed to snap off the entire outfit as they stood there,
assisting Mr. Garrabrant load his prisoners into the boat.
And it might be taken for granted that the official photographer of the
camp had seized upon an opportunity when the two prisoners' faces were
in full view, so that no one could afterwards reasonably doubt their
claim to having captured the desperate men so long wanted by the
Rockaway authorities.
Of course the camp was left in full charge of the assistant scout
master, Elmer Chenowith, with a parting injunction from Mr. Garrabrant
that the boys were to render his representative just as much respect as
though it were himself.
There could be no doubt about that being done, since Elmer was a
universal favorite among his fellows, and had hardly an enemy in all
Hickory Ridge.
"I reckon, suh, we can manage to get along all right while you are
away," Chatz Maxfield had called out reassuringly, after the boat had
left the landing, with Ginger working industriously at the oars, the two
prisoners huddled amidships, and the scout master seated astern, where
he could keep his eye pretty much all the time on the slippery
customers.
"If I wasn't positive about that, Charles, I'd never be leaving you,"
was what Mr. Garrabrant replied, as he waved his hand to them.
Presently the fast-moving boat swept around a bend, and was lost to
view. Several of the boys sighed a little, and looked a bit downcast.
Despite their assumption of freedom from homesickness they could not
help feeling that their leader would perhaps be in "dear old Hickory
Ridge" that afternoon, and might even pass by their beloved homes, which
it seemed they had not seen for an age.
Of course Elmer, who had roved more or less, was not in this class. He
knew better than to make fun of them, however. Between himself and Mark
they had many a quiet laugh over the way the fellows made out to be so
free from care.
"I bet you it seems like a coon's age to some of them since they said
good-by to mother and father," Mark managed to remark, as they stood
there watching the rest gaze down river after the vanished link that was
to bind them with civilization.
"Sure it does," Elmer had agreed. "Do you know that little story about
the kid who ran away from home, and what an eternity it seemed to him?"
"I don't seem to remember," replied the other. "What happened, Elmer?"
"Why, he spent the day of his life, you know. He had made up his mind in
the beginning that he would never come back. Then at noon he determined
that a whole month would give his folks a good scare. The afternoon hung
on terribly. Minutes seemed hours, and at last he just couldn't stand it
any longer. He had spent his last penny, but it was getting night, and
he had never been without a home in the dark before."
"Yes, I can understand that, because once I did it too," laughed Mark;
"but don't mind me, Elmer, go right along with the story. What happened
to him?"
"Nothing. That's where the fun came in," replied the other. "You see his
folks understood that kid, and they just made up their minds to punish
him by not paying the slightest attention to him. So he came sneaking
into the sitting room where dad was reading the paper, and mom was
knitting. Neither of them even looked at him. He thought that mighty
queer, when he had expected to be hugged and kissed and cried over like
one who had been lost a year.
"After a long time, when he had coughed, and moved about without either
of them paying the slightest attention to him, the boy was struck with
an idea. He would say something that _must_ make them realize the near
calamity that had happened. So he bent down to stroke the back of the
old tabby that was purring by the fire, and he says, says he:
"'Oh! I see you still have the same old cat you used to have when I was
home!'"
Mark burst into a hearty laugh.
"I get the point, Elmer, all right, and I guess it applies to a few of
our fellows, but on the whole they've acted just fine. A better bunch of
good-hearted boys it would be hard to find anywhere. And I tell you this
outing's going to do every mother's son of them a heap of good. What
they learn in this camp will pay a dozen times over for the trouble it's
taken. I hope Mr. Garrabrant gets safely down to Rockaway with his
boatload of human freight. Perhaps there won't be a sensation in Hickory
Ridge when the news gets out that the Boy Scouts captured those bad men,
and sent them to the police of Rockaway with their compliments. I guess
that's going some for a new organization of tenderfeet scouts, eh?"
"I should say yes," replied the young scout leader, emphatically. "And
after all, we've only got one more mystery to solve to have the slate
clear."
"You mean about that monkey business, I suppose?" suggested Mark.
"Yes; and possibly we may be lucky enough to have that settled before
Mr. Garrabrant comes back again," Elmer remarked, confidently.
"You think then we are due for another visit from Diablo, say to-night?"
"It stands to reason," said Elmer, "that he will have eaten up all those
crackers long before then, and knowing where we keep our supplies, you
can count on him paying another call. So many around the camp in the
daytime will keep him shy. You remember there were only Ginger and Red
at home all day, when he was here before."
"All right," remarked his chum. "We'll try and have a warm reception
ready for our friend Diablo. He's apt to be the most surprised monkey
ever, once he hits that trigger; what with the loop snatching him up in
the air, the flashlight going off with a great dazzling glow, and the
yells of the boys as they get on to the racket. I just hope it turns out
a good picture. It'll sure be the star of the whole collection. What?"
Elmer took charge, and proceeded to start the ball rolling. They were
not intending to have any strenuous work while the scout master was
away, but some of them coaxed Elmer to give a few exhibitions of
throwing a rope, and doing some other little tricks that he had learned
while up on that Canada cattle farm.
He also went deeper into the track business, and the boys were so
anxious to learn all they could about this fascinating study, that they
all spent hours trying to find new footprints so that they could drag
Elmer thither, and get him to tell the sort of little animal that had
made them, what his habits were, and all about him.
Then after lunch some words brought up the subject of picture writing.
Elmer had more or less to say about that, for he had been among the
Indians, and copied any amount of their queer methods of communicating.
"It's just as simple as falling off a log, fellows," he said. "If a
little kid were trying to make you understand that three men had gone
down river in a boat, if he had any sense at all he'd draw a canoe with
three figures in it holding paddles. A rock sticking up would have
something that looked like foam on one side. That would tell you the
water was running so, and that the canoe was going _down_ the river. If
they were being pursued, in the boat behind a figure would be firing a
gun. Then they escape, for they go ashore and make a fire. All got away,
for there are still three of them. And that's the easy way it goes. It
just can't be too simple. A child might read it. And that's Indian
picture writing. Now, suppose some of you try it. If anybody can read it
right off the reel, then you've made a success of the job. But remember,
this isn't any rebus or puzzle."
So for some time the boys employed themselves in practicing this simple
art, under the directions of the young scout master. They found it lots
of fun, and of course there was more or less shouting over some of the
wonderful pictures drawn, which the artists themselves could hardly
designate, after their work became cold.
Dr. Ted and Mark had gone off with some more food, to find out how Abe
and his family were, after the exciting experience of the preceding day,
and to tell them that their unwelcome visitors were by that time safely
locked up in the Rockaway strong box.
Mark wished to get a few pictures of the two "kids" in their native
woods. They would not look the same after they reached civilization,
where kindly women would only too willingly take them in hand, and fit
them out with new clothes.
Toby fairly haunted the spot where the balloon lay in a heap, just as
they had piled it up. Doubtless the boy was indulging himself with
castles in the air connected with the time to come, in the dim future,
when he too might have a chance to fly through the clouds in one of
these big gas bags, or with a modern aeroplane, which would of course be
much better.
And so the day wore on.
As evening approached some of the boys mentally pictured Mr. Garrabrant
talking with the good people of Hickory Ridge, and in each case it was a
father or mother who so proudly heard what wonderful progress the boy
was making in learning to take care of himself when left to his own
resources.
Things went on as usual. They had plenty of trout for supper, of which
dainty the scouts seemed never to tire. Then a huge mess of rice had
been boiled, which, served with sugar and condensed milk, proved a good
dessert. But before that was reached they had a stew made of tinned
beef, Boston baked beans and some corn, while Ty Collins showed his
skill as a flapjack maker by turning out several heaps of pretty fair
pancakes.
Perhaps some of the scouts ate more heavily of these last than they
should, for it was noted that at various times during the night a boy
here or there would get to talking in his sleep, and show signs of
restlessness that could only come from indigestion. Nevertheless, when
the time came for retiring, Elmer gave the signal for taps to be sounded
on the bugle, as Lil Artha declared, "everything was lovely, and the
goose hung high!"