LIFTING THE LID
Three men could be seen splashing desperately through the water; and they
seemed to be carrying a fourth, who was lying on a rude sort of litter,
as though he might either be sick, or badly hurt.
And so it flashed through Paul's mind that perhaps after all their
mission was not one of conquest, or even hostility, but that they were
seeking help.
"Hold up, fellows," he hastened to say; "we'll have to let them come
aboard now, because they never could get back to the hill again, with the
water rising so fast. Besides, I think they've got a wounded man along,
and need help. Don't forget we're scouts, and always ready to hold out a
helping hand."
"That's the ticket!" declared the impulsive Bobolink, forgetting his
warlike disposition when he saw the man on the litter.
So Paul beckoned to the men to approach. He had already made the
discovery that one of those who bore the litter was the big man who had
waved them away with such violent gestures, just before the terrible
explosion, when they happened to get too near the mine that was being
fired for some strange purpose.
Two minutes later, and still splashing through water that came almost up
to their hips, those who bore the injured man arrived close to the boats.
"Why, it's Professor Hackett who's being carried!" exclaimed Jack.
The small man on the litter, who looked very white, lifted his head with
an effort, and tried to wave his hand.
"Yes, that's who it is; and you're Jack Stormways; aren't you? Oh! I hope
that chum of yours can do something to stop this bleeding; I made them
carry me down here as a last chance. My man who was sent for a doctor in
our aeroplane, has not come back, and we're afraid he had an accident.
Can some of you boys help lift me aboard? I'm very weak from loss of
blood, and nearly gone."
His voice was as faint as a whisper; and indeed, it was a wonder that he
managed to speak at all.
The scouts had quite forgotten everything but that there was some one in
trouble. Tender hands immediately were forthcoming to assist in raising
litter and man over the side of the boat. Then the three attendants
climbed aboard, and strange to say the scouts seemed to have forgotten
all their fear of the men they had believed to be lawbreakers. For now
they saw that they were an intelligent lot of men, who bore little
resemblance to such criminals as they had seemed to be.
Paul had long been interested in surgery. His father was the leading
doctor of Stanhope, and had always encouraged this fancy in the boy. It
seemed that the professor chanced to remember that he had been told about
the ability of Jack Stormways' chum; and when matters began to look
desperate, since none of his assistants could seem to stop the flow of
blood that followed his accident, as a last resort he had forced them to
put him on a litter, and make for the spot where they knew the scouts had
their camp, the man in the aeroplane having signaled the fact back to
them, just as Paul suspected.
Of course they had not dreamed of such a thing as the lake rising, until
they had gone too far to retreat; and then they took desperate chances of
finding the boys still there, where they had boats with which they could
go to the mainland.
Paul busied himself immediately. It was a pretty bad wound that the
little man had received, and his left arm would be practically useless
the balance of time; but he cared not for this, if only his life might
be spared.
Jack and Jud assisted whenever their services were needed and in the end
Paul had not only stopped the flow of blood, but had the injured arm
neatly bandaged--as well, the professor weakly declared, as any surgeon
could have done.
"And now," said Paul, turning on the big man, who had hovered around
anxiously, watching what was being done, as though he thought a great
deal of the professor; "in return for what we've done, won't you please
tell us who and what you are, and why you're doing all these queer stunts
away up here on this lonely island, where nobody can see you? We're all
mixed up, and don't know what to think. At first we believed you must be
a lot of counterfeiters hiding from the Government agents; but what with
these explosions, and such things as aeroplanes, I'm getting it in my
head that it means you're trying out some big sensations that are going
to be sprung on the Coney Island public next season."
"And that's where you made a pretty clever guess, my boy," said the big
man, as he settled down to take it a bit more easily after his recent
hard work; "Professor Hackett has invented most of the biggest sensations
seen at seaside resorts these last ten years. He expects to excel his
record next season, and then retire; and I tell you, now, I began to
think he'd retire another way, if he lost much more blood from that
wound, which he got by accident this morning."
The scouts looked at each other, and a broad smile appeared on many a
face that only a short time before had been pale with apprehension.
When a thing that has seemed a dark mystery is finally explained, it
often looks so easy and simple that all of us wonder how we ever could
have bothered our heads over such a puzzle. And so it was in this case.
Why did it come that no one had guessed the true explanation before, when
it was so easy?
They began to tell the big man all about their experiences, and how so
many things seemed to make it appear that the strangers were hiding
from officers.
"How about that fellow who was hanging around my father's mill that night
you had your two big boxes stored there?" Jack asked.
"He represented a rival inventor, who has always been jealous of
Professor Hackett, and is forever trying to find out what he has on the
stocks," replied the big man, whose name they learned was Mr. Jameson, an
able assistant to the inventor of aerial bombs, brilliant exploding
mines, and a dozen other wonders that thrill audiences at the seashore
each season.
"But wouldn't he be likely to follow the wagon when it took the boxes
away in the morning?" the boy continued to ask.
"Oh! we put him on a false scent, by shipping two other boxes away on a
train," was the reply. "He must have gone two hundred miles before he
discovered his mistake; and I doubt very much if he knows yet, but is
watching those cases to see what we do with them, away out in western New
York State."
"Er, how about these?" asked Bobolink, jingling the two shining quarters
in his hand. "I picked 'em up close to that field smithy you have on the
island. We thought they were the best counterfeits we ever saw. I guess
they are."
"I lost a bunch of small change through a hole in my pocket," laughed the
man, "and so I judge those are a part of it. But keep them as souvenirs
of your wonderful adventures on Cedar Island. Every time you look at them
you'll remember that narrow escape you and your friends had when you came
near stepping on a mine, the fuse of which had been lighted; for
Professor Hackett, even while he was wounded, would not hear of us
stopping our work."
"Thanks," replied the gratified Bobolink, again pocketing the quarters
that had been the cause of so much speculation among the seven scouts;
"I'll be glad to accept your kind offer. But there's another thing we'd
like to know."
"Speak up, then, and I'll be pleased to accommodate you, if the
knowledge is in my power to bestow. This flood bids fair to bring our
experiments to an end for the time being, even if the professor's
weakness hadn't made it necessary that we get to some place where he can
receive the right kind of care, to build up his strength. What's
bothering you now, my boy?"
"How about the wild man?" asked Bobolink.
"Oh! he was here when we came, and we made friends with him," the other
replied, promptly. "You see, some of us have been up here for a month. We
had some new stuff shipped in those big cases; but it'll all be rusted
now by this water. The poor fellow is harmless, for all he looks so
fierce. Why, at the smell of coffee the tears trickled down his dirty
cheeks like rain; it seemed to be just one last link that bound his
flitting memory to something in the far-away past. We gave him an old
saucepan to cook it in, and showed him how. Ever since he's visited us
often, and we supplied him with food, because it seemed as though he was
the one who had first right to this island."
"I hope the poor old chap has the good sense to climb that hill, and get
away from the rising water," remarked Jack, with some feeling. "Have you
any idea who he can be, or where he came from?"
"We made up our minds that he had been out of his head a long time, and
perhaps had escaped from some institution. He mentioned the name of John
Pennington once, and we think it must have been his. The professor
intended to make inquiries, later on, and if possible have him returned
to his home, wherever it might be."
"Did he have a big yellow dog tied up at his shack?" asked Nuthin,
eagerly, as though he wished to settle that point, because the animal in
question had once belonged to the Cypher family.
"Yes," answered Mr. Jameson, "but it got away from him one night, by
breaking the rope, and he's been making a great fuss about it ever since.
But from the ugly looks of the beast, I'd sooner put a bullet in him than
try to make friends."
"Well, that about finishes the list of questions we've been nearly dying
to ask somebody," remarked Bobolink, "and seems like everything's been
explained. What we want to know now, and there isn't a livin' soul c'n
tell the answer to that, I reckon, is, how high is this old lake goin' to
get before she commences to fall again? And how in Sam Hill are we
expectin' to ride those motor-boats over that pile of rocks and mud, that
lies in the outlet? Anybody know the answer? I'd like to hear it."
But they shook their heads. Nobody could say, although all sorts
of guesses ran the rounds, for the scouts were good hands at that
sort of thing.
The water was still rising, and apparently just as fast as ever. Already
it had encroached upon the main part of the island; and Mr. Jameson
declared that he was sure it must be all around the shed where they kept
their machinery, that had been brought secretly to this isolated spot,
where they hoped to complete the greatest marvel in the way of sensations
ever known to curious crowds at watering places.
"It'll be badly hurt, unless the water goes down soon," remarked the
big man; "but that doesn't seem to be the worst thing that can happen,
if what your Doctor Paul here, says, turns out to be true, and the
water goes out of the lake in a raging torrent that may drag boats and
all with it."