That night, after Uncle Elk had left the bungalow, Alvin Landon, Chester
Haynes and Mike Murphy held what Alvin called a council of war.
Sauntering a little way from the building, they sat down in the silent
depths of the woods where no one could overhear what was said by them.
Not that a Boy Scout would be guilty of eavesdropping, but it was best
that no inkling of what was in the air should become accidentally known
to others.
Without quoting all the conversation, let me make clear its substance.
The three were so mystified by the incidents already told that they
determined not to cease their efforts until the puzzle was solved. They
were the only Boy Scouts who knew the particulars, and it was natural
that their friends should give their chief interest to fishing, rambling
in the forest, studying trees, picking up what they could of natural
history, and laying in unnecessary stores of health and strength.
One thing was certain: Uncle Elk knew the secret and he wouldn’t tell.
More than that, Chester Haynes startled his chums by the declaration:
“So does Mr. Hall,—at least I am pretty sure he does.”
“What reason have you for thinking that?” asked the astonished Alvin.
“I have seen them more than once whispering in a way that showed they
were keenly interested.”
“Did you hear anything that either said?”
“Not a word.”
“How do you know then to what they were referring?”
“I don’t; I’m only guessing.”
“I belave ye’re right,” added Mike; “I obsarved the same thing and had
the same ’spicion, and would have spoke of it if Chest hadn’t got ahead
of me. But I’m thinking that if Mr. Hall knows it all, why the mischief
doesn’t he tell us afore we bust?”
“For the simple reason that Uncle Elk has bound him to secrecy. No; what
we find out must be done without the help of either.”
“And we’ll doot!” exclaimed Mike, “or we’ll break a trace trying.”
“How shall we go about it?” asked Alvin. “Whatever we do must be done
without either of them, especially Uncle Elk, knowing it.”
“And there’s the rub.”
Bring three bright-witted boys together and let them concentrate their
mental energies upon the solution of a problem, and even if they don’t
succeed, they are sure to evolve something worth while.
“It is useless to apply to Mr. Hall,” said Alvin, “for nothing could
induce him to violate the confidence of another. But Uncle Elk holds the
master key and can speak when he chooses.”
“Which the same is the rule with most folks,” commented Mike.
“Now, see here,” put in Chester; “he has shown a fondness for you——”
“Can ye name any one of me acquaintances that hasn’t?” interrupted the
wag.
“Why can’t you set to work and coax it out of him?”
“Begorra! haven’t I tried more than once. I’ve hinted and asked him
straight out until I’m in the fix of Phil Rafferty.”
“What was that?”
“Phil took a notion that he could butt ivery other admirer of Bridget
Mulrooney off the track. He kipt at it till one day he towld me he had a
dim ’spicion that Bridget and her big brother Tarn and her dad of the
same name, not forgitting Bridget her-silf, weren’t as fond of him as
they oughter be. They had dropped purty plain hints and the last time
Phil called, Bridget remarked sorter off-hand like, that she niver
wanted to see his ugly mug agin. Her brother kicked him off the porch
and flung him over the fence and the owld gintleman set their dog on
him, which the same nearly choked in trying to swaller the seat of his
pants. Phil said he was beginnin’ to ’spicion that the family took as a
whole, didn’t love him as they oughter. It’s the same wid Uncle Elk and
me. He’s riddy to talk on anything excipt the raison them two tramps was
scared into taking a bath, and he won’t throw any light on that p’int.”
“Then there is no use of either of us trying.”
“I could hev towld ye that long ago.”
Once more it was Chester who showed the most subtlety.
“Uncle Elk knows that Mike is doing all he can to solve the puzzle; he
knows he’ll not stop trying till he learns the truth; if Alvin and I
keep him company, he will understand that we have joined forces. It will
be as easy for him to baffle us three when we are together as to defeat
any one of us. Therefore we ought to separate and each push the hunt for
himself.”
“Ye’ve hit it!” exclaimed Mike, “and to encourage ye in good works and
to show ye the honor ye oughter hev, I offers ye me hand.”
He gravely extended his palm in the gloom and it was warmly shaken.
Let a party of boys engage in some plot—and the same is true of
adults—and their chief fear is that it will be discovered and defeated
by someone else more or less interested. No precaution must be
neglected. It was agreed by our friends that no one of them should drop
a word in the hearing of others that could rouse curiosity, and not to
show by their manner that anything unusual was on their minds.
One question considered was whether Dr. Spellman should be taken into
their confidence. He had witnessed the panic of the tramps and was as
curious as the boys to learn its cause. Alvin disposed of the matter.
“I don’t see how he can be of any help and he doesn’t wish to leave his
home too long since the trouble he had with the bums. Uncle Elk, for
some reason, hates the doctor; the two would be pretty sure to meet if
the doctor joined forces with us, and the consequences would be bad. Say
what you please, Uncle Elk has a queer twist in his brain, and I dread
doing anything that will excite him. Let us work independently of every
one else.”
“I’m wid ye,” assented Mike, and Chester agreed.
This much decided upon, the particulars of the plan remained to be
arranged. Mike proposed that he should saunter off alone to the western
end of the lake, near where Alvin and Chester had gone in the canoe
during the day, and there with no companion should set himself to learn
what he could. The others would take the opposite course, which would
lead them to the home of Uncle Elk. They had no intention of questioning
the old man or even letting him know what they had in mind, but would
employ their wits as opportunity offered.
Nothing would have been more pleasing than for Mike to use the canoe to
reach the western end of the lake, but he decided that the safest course
was for all three to let the boats alone. The hermit would doubtless be
on the watch and would know the errand of the lads.
“Do we need to have signals?” asked Chester.
“What for?” inquired Alvin in turn.
“If one of us finds out something, he will want to tell the others.”
“I don’t see how the plan can work, for we shall be so far apart that
any call we make will be heard by some of the Scouts and may give the
whole thing away. Whatever comes to light can wait till we meet here
after supper to-night.”
Mike, who had been thoughtful for a minute or two, now spoke:
“We thought that being Mr. Hall’s lips are closed, Uncle Elk is the only
one that can ixplain the queer actions of Biggs and Hutt, but Uncle Elk
isn’t the only one.”
“Who else can do so?”
“Biggs and Hutt.”
“That is true,” said Alvin, “but I don’t believe they would show any
more willingness than Uncle Elk. Besides, after such a fright as they
got yesterday, they are probably miles away at this minute and still
running.”
“Which doesn’t signify that they won’t come back again. One would think
they would have taken the warning Dr. Spellman gave them, but they
didn’t. I believe there is going to be more trouble with those two
scamps,” said Chester impressively.
“They’ve got to behave thimselves,” added Mike with more feeling than he
had yet shown, “or I’ll git Mr. Hall to lead the whole troop agin ’em.”
“You know the Boy Scouts are opposed to all violence.”
“And so’m I, excipt whin it’s yer dooty to lambaste the ither chap, as
whin he drops a hint that he doesn’t think ye’re able to doot. If Biggs
and Hutt go to stealing or stepping too hard on us, do ye ixpect we’re
going to grin and bear it?”
“Without answering that question,” remarked Alvin, “let me suggest that
if any one of us happens to meet either or both the hoboes, he does his
best to get an explanation from them. If you don’t succeed, no harm will
be done.”
“Good counsel,” commented Chester, “but I don’t believe it will bring
any result.”
“We mustn’t neglect anything——”
“Whisht!” interrupted Mike, suddenly laying his hand on the arm of this
comrade.
All three became silent, and each distinctly heard faint footfalls from
a point deeper in the wood.
“Some one has been listening,” whispered Alvin, “but he couldn’t have
heard anything.”
“And what if he did?” asked Chester; “we have no enemies in this part of
the world.”
Mike had started in the direction of the suspicious sound. He did not
take time to soften the noise of his feet, and the stranger thus warned
hurried away. Evidently he was a better woodman than his pursuer, for he
got over the ground faster. Mike caught a glimpse of him in the
star-gleam, as he emerged on the beach and ran off. A few minutes later
the Irish youth rejoined his friends.
“Do you know who it was?” asked Alvin.
“No; he didn’t spake nor look back. I thought it best to return to ye.”
“Why?”
“I hadn’t me shillaleh wid me, and I was in too much danger of
overhauling the spalpeen.”