THE SIGNAL.
“What in the name of common sense did you want to tell them we were
going after Sicum for?”
It was still early when they returned to their cabin after breakfast
and Jack asked the question as soon as he had closed the door behind
him.
“I had a reason and I’ll tell you about it while we’re on the way.
We must get a couple hours’ sleep now,” Bob replied as he threw
himself on the bed and was almost instantly lost to the world.
They had asked Jacques to call them at nine o’clock and shortly
after that hour they were paddling down the lake. Bob was in the
stern and, as soon as they had rounded the point just below the
camp, instead of heading for the dam he turned the canoe in toward
the shore.
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Jack asked.
Bob did not reply until the bow of the canoe scraped on the sand,
then he said:
“You wanted to know why I told the folks where we were going?”
“Sure I do.”
“All right. You see, it occurred to me that now would be a good time
to put into execution a plan that I’ve had in mind for some time. It
is this. If they are mixed up in this thing in any way the knowledge
that we’re going to bring the dog here will, I believe, cause them
to make some change in their plans. Now I’m going to let you go for
Sicum while I slip back and watch the camp.”
“But suppose they should catch you?”
“I’ve thought of that but they won’t.”
“I don’t like it,” Jack declared after a short pause. “If they’re
innocent and I still believe they are, I don’t like the idea of
spying on them.”
“I expected you would say that and I feel the same way about it, but
I’ve thought it all over and I believe that the end justifies the
means. If they are in it of course it’s no more than they deserve
and if they are not what they don’t know isn’t going to hurt them.”
“If only they don’t find it out,” Jack mused doubtfully.
“Well, of course, if you’re opposed to it we’ll drop it.”
“I’m not. Since you put it that way I think it’s a good plan only,
for goodness sake, be careful.”
“I will,” Bob promised as he stepped out of the canoe.
“But where will I pick you up? And suppose they should take a notion
to come down to the dam or—”
“Or a dozen other things,” Bob interrupted. “Let’s not cross those
bridges till we come to them.”
“I know, but—”
“I’ve got the pocket radios here,” Bob again interrupted as he
handed one of the small cases to his brother. “So we’ll be able to
keep in touch with each other all right. It’ll take you about an
hour to get down to the dam and another hour from there to
Kernertok’s cabin. Give you an hour there and say three to get back
and you ought to be here about three o’clock. Unless something
happens I’ll be here before that time waiting for you.”
“Unless something happens,” Jack repeated. “That’s a good one.”
“What do you mean, a good one?”
“Did you ever know of us starting out on a thing like this unless
something happened? I’ll bet something’ll happen all right.”
“Well, we’ll both be careful and that’s the best we can do,” Bob
assured him.
“All right, so long,” and Jack pushed off and again headed down the
lake.
Bob stood on the shore and watched until his brother was but a speck
on the surface of the lake, then he turned and plunged into the
forest which at that point was very dense. It was only a short
distance back to the camp and he was soon looking for a good hiding
place from which he would have a good view of the cabins and himself
remain unseen. He realized that his position was a most delicate
one. If their friends were innocent not for worlds would he have
them know that he was spying on them but as he had told Jack, he
believed that suspicion pointed to them with sufficient force to
justify the espionage.
At the edge of the clearing and located about fifty feet from the
cabin occupied by the Sleepers, grew an exceptionally large spruce
tree with very thick branches. After making a thorough survey of the
place Bob decided that up among the branches of that spruce would be
the best place he could find. They were thick enough, he thought, to
shield him from any but a most searching glance. The problem of
getting up there bothered him the most, and he knew that it would be
a risk but, as he had been unable to find anything else which suited
half as well, he decided to take it.
Keeping the trunk of the tree between himself and the cabin he crept
up until he crouched at its foot. There he paused and listened. He
could hear Helen singing within the cabin, but of her parents there
was no sound. After a minute had passed he leaped for the lowest
branch and quickly swung himself up. Up he climbed until he was
nearly two-thirds of the way to the top. Here the branches were
especially thick and two, growing only a few inches apart, made a
fairly comfortable seat. By pushing aside a side branch he found
that he had a good view of the greater part of the camp and was sure
that there was little danger of being discovered.
For an hour he watched before catching sight of a soul. Then he saw
the breed come from the dining cabin and slowly approach the cabin
occupied by the Sleepers. As he stepped onto the porch Mr. Sleeper
came out from the living room and met him. The boy was undecided as
to whether or not the meeting was by appointment but, as the man
motioned Jacques to a seat he judged that he had been expecting him.
If only he could hear what they were talking about, he thought, and
then as he realized that it would be eavesdropping, he knew that,
even were it possible, he would shrink from doing it.
“But that’s practically what I’m doing now,” he thought as he slowly
let the branch drop back into its proper place.
For a moment he seriously considered giving over the espionage to
which he was subjecting the camp, but his better judgment prevailed
and he decided to see it through.
“It can’t possibly harm any of them if they’re all right,” he
muttered half aloud, as he again pushed aside the branch.
The two men remained in earnest conversation for the better part of
an hour and, although he was, of course, unable to hear a word, he
could tell that Mr. Sleeper was trying argument after argument to
induce Jacques to consent to something and that the latter was
steadily refusing. Whether or not he finally succeeded he was not
sure, but they shook hands warmly when Jacques rose to go and, from
the smile on Mr. Sleeper’s face he judged that his arguments had not
been entirely in vain.
Just then he heard a slight buzzing sound and quickly taking a small
case from his pocket, he unwound a short bit of cord and placed the
telephone receiver to his ear. Then, placing his lips close to the
mouth piece he spoke in a tone hardly above a whisper.
“All right, Jack?”
“Sure it’s all right.” The words came through the air as plainly as
though the speaker were by his side. “How are things there?”
“Nothing definite and I don’t want to talk any more than I can help.
I’m too near the cottage.”
“Righto, I understand and you needn’t say another word. I got here
all right and Kernertok and Sicum are coming back with me as soon as
we get a bite. I’ve told Kernertok all about things and, although
you’ll hardly believe it, he’s really excited about it. Says that if
Sicum can’t trail a ghost he’s no good. Sicum seems in fine fettle
and wants to be remembered to you. I’ll call you again when we get
to the dam and let you know how soon to expect us. Be careful you
don’t get pinched. Good bye.”
Bob made no reply but took the receiver from his ear and carefully
replaced the case in his pocket.
“So far so good,” he smiled as he took another peep.
No one was in sight and it was nearly another hour before the
Sleepers came out of the cabin and went slowly toward the dining
cabin. Evidently they were going to dinner and the thought reminded
the boy that he was hungry, but knowing that he would have to wait
several hours before he could satisfy his hunger, he proceeded to
forget about it, a task at which he was very expert.
Half an hour later the Sleepers returned to their cabin and, after
remaining inside for only a few minutes, Mr. Sleeper and Helen came
out and the former carried in his hand an object which at once made
the boy sit up and take intense notice.
“Now what the dickins,” he muttered.
The object was a paper balloon about two feet tall and bright red in
color. They went toward the wharf and a moment later disappeared
behind the dining cabin.
“They’re going to send it up from the end of the wharf or I’m a
Dutchman,” he thought.
The big dining-cabin hid the wharf from his view but in about ten
minutes he spied the balloon floating lazily up over the lake.
“Now what do you know about that?” he asked himself. “It doesn’t
seem possible that he’s sending up a hot-air balloon simply to amuse
Helen. She’s too old for that kind of amusement, I should think. No,
it must be a signal for someone.”
The wind took the balloon far out over the lake and he watched it
until it was lost in the blue haze.
“There’s something phony about them sure as guns,” he muttered as he
watched for their return.
But it was nearly a half hour before he again saw them. Then he
could see that they were talking excitedly as they hurried back to
their cabin.
“Kind of looks as though they’d had an answer already,” he thought.
“What a mess it is. There seems to be more loose ends to this thing
than you can shake a stick at. But just wait till Sicum gets here.
Then I’ll bet there’ll be something doing unless that signal means
‘nothing doing at present.’”
A few minutes later he saw the girl come out of the cabin and, to
his great alarm, she came directly toward his tree. She walked
slowly, her eyes on the ground as though in deep thought, but she
did not pause until she was right under him. Then she sat down on
the ground and leaned her back against the trunk of the tree. Bob
hardly dared to breathe. Why, of all places did she have to choose
that particular tree to sit under? He was located in such a position
that he could see her as he glanced down and he knew that, in case
she looked up, she could not well help seeing him.
Dare he try to move around to the other side of the trunk? There was
now only the slightest of breezes and it was so still that he could
hear the thumping of his heart and it seemed almost as though she
too might hear it. Still, if he remained where he was the chances
were ten to one, he thought that she would, sooner or later, look up
and then the fat would be in the fire for a fact. Finally he decided
to make the attempt. He felt sure that he could do it without making
a sound provided he could prevent the branches from rubbing against
each other as he shifted his weight from one to the other. That was
where the danger lay.
Reaching up he grasped hold of a large branch directly over his head
and slowly pulled himself up until he was standing on the two limbs
upon which he had been sitting. Unfortunately these branches were
comparatively small and, although he was only a couple of feet from
the trunk of the tree, he knew that they would move when he took his
weight from them. But could he do it so slowly that there would be
no noise? Carefully inch by inch he moved his weight in toward the
trunk, and was congratulating himself that he was going to
accomplish it in safety, when one of the branches sprang upward
making a loud swishing sound. He knew instantly that it had been
caught in some way beneath the other branch and the shifting of his
weight had served to dislodge it.
He heard the girl give vent to a startled cry as she sprang to her
feet, and, no longer delaying his movements, he quickly swung
himself around to the other side of the trunk.
“Who’s there?”
Bob made no reply, hoping that she would decide that her ears had
deceived her and resume her seat. But evidently that was farthest
from her intentions.
“Who’s there?” she asked again.
Then after waiting a moment for an answer she turned and ran toward
the cabin.
Bob knew that there was no time to be lost and he was half way to
the ground before she reached the porch. Just as he dropped from the
lower limb he heard her calling for her father. Then he ran as fast
as he could through the thick woods and did not stop until he had
covered all of a hundred yards.
“Reckon I’m safe now,” he thought as he sat down on a fallen trunk
and listened.
“You might as well come down now as later.”
The words came to him very faintly, but he had no trouble in
recognizing Mr. Sleeper’s voice.
Forgetting his aversion to eavesdropping he cautiously crept a
little nearer until he could hear them talking.
“There’s no one up there,” he heard Mr. Sleeper say.
“Well, there was,” Helen replied.
“Probably your imagination.”
“No, it wasn’t. I saw his leg.”
“Well, he’s gone now anyhow.”
“But who could it have been?”
The answer was so low that Bob was unable to hear it, but evidently
Helen did not agree for he heard her say:
“I don’t believe it.”
For a moment or two they continued to converse but they spoke in
tones so low that he was unable to catch more than a word now and
then. Then they walked slowly back to the cabin. At first Bob was
minded to resume his former position in the tree, but second thought
convinced him that it would involve too much risk.
“It’s more than likely that he’ll keep an eye on that tree the rest
of the day,” he told himself as he walked slowly back into the
woods.
He was deeply grieved for he had liked them all and the thought that
they were mixed up in a dishonest transaction made his hearty heavy.
“And it sure looks as though Jacques knows something about it to say
the least,” he muttered as he again sat down on the tree trunk. “But
what can be their object? What are they trying to accomplish?”
But he found it much easier to ask these questions than to find a
satisfactory answer to them and, after a short session of useless
pondering, he started off toward the place where he was to meet
Jack.
Just as he arrived there he heard the signal on the pocket radio and
in an instant he was talking with his brother.
“Got here all right,” Jack’s voice declared. “We’re just ready to
start in the canoe. Where are you?”
“Right where you left me.”
“Deserted your post, eh.”
“Not exactly, but I’ll tell you all about it when you get here.”
“Just one question. Have you learned anything favorable or
unfavorable?”
“I’m afraid it’s the latter,” Bob replied. “But I’m not sure.”
“All right. Good bye, see you in a half hour.”
“He’s got to dig some if he does,” Bob smiled to himself as he
slipped the case back into his pocket.
But he was only ten minutes out of the way at that. The old Indian,
Kernertok, in the stern and Jack in the bow made a combination hard
to beat. It was hard to tell which one, Kernertok or Sicum, was the
more pleased to see Bob. The Indian merely grunted his pleasure as
he held out his hand, but the boys both knew just what that
particular grunt meant. To be sure Sicum, half collie and the other
half, as Kernertok declared, “just dog,” although the boys more than
suspected that his father was a timber wolf, was more demonstrative
in his greeting, jumping on him with so much force that he was
nearly knocked off his feet. But they knew well that in the old
Indian and his dog they possessed two friends that could always be
depended on.
“Ten minutes late,” Bob told Jack as soon as he had quieted the dog.
“Wind was against us.”
“Um blow heap hard out on lake,” Kernertok backed him up.
“And now what about it?” Jack demanded.
Quickly Bob gave them a full account of the events of the day and
Jack’s expression became more and more mystified as he proceeded.
“Now what do you know about that?” he asked as Bob paused. “This
thing has more angles to it than Carter has liver pills.”
“Is Sicum’s nose in good shape?” Bob asked the Indian.
“Sicum, him get heap lazy. No get ’nough work an’ heap too much
eats, but him nose still heap sharp.”
“And a sharp nose is what we need,” Jack declared.
“You said it,” Bob agreed as they pushed off in the canoe and
started around the point.
Helen was on the wharf and gave the old Indian a warm greeting which
plainly pleased him, but she shrank from Sicum as he gave vent to a
low rumble when she reached out her hand to his master.
“You, Sicum!” Kernertok said in a low tone, but one which the dog
plainly understood for he dropped his head and turned away.
“Him good dog but no mak’ friend quick,” Kernertok explained as he
grabbed him by the collar and drew him close to the girl. “You no
like um squaw? You heap no good dog: she good squaw: friend of
Kernertok: you like um, eh?”
While his master was speaking the dog was looking first at him and
then at the girl. Slowly his tail began to wag and, as Kernertok
finished, he took a step forward and held out one paw with a
peculiar questioning whine.
“Take it, and you’ve made a friend for life,” Jack whispered.
A bit reluctantly the girl took the paw in one hand while with the
other she softly patted the brown head while Sicum made manifest his
delight by a vigorous wagging of his bushy tail.
“Now he’ll protect you with his life,” Jack told her.
“And you can do anything with him and he’ll never so much as growl
at you,” Bob added.
“He must be wonderful,” she said her hand still caressing the dog’s
head.
“He is.”
Both boys made the statement at the same time.
“But does he always have to be introduced in that way?”
“No, but he makes friends more quickly if he knows that Kernertok
approves,” Jack told her.
“Can I introduce him to father and mother?”
“Sure. Didn’t I tell you that you could do anything with him?”
“All right. Come on Sicum, old boy.”
With a glance at his master, who nodded his head, the dog chased
after the girl who was already near the shore end of the wharf.
“She heap nice squaw,” Kernertok said as he watched her running up
the bank.
The three made their way to the little cabin where Bob more fully
explained the situation to the Indian. The latter said no word until
he had finished, then he merely grunted his approval of what they
had done. Nothing more was seen of the dog until the supper horn
called them to the big cabin. As they reached the door they heard a
sharp bark and, looking back, saw Helen running toward them with the
dog bounding by her side.
“Oh, he’s just splendid,” she panted as she reached the cabin. “I
introduced him to the folks and he shook hands with both of them too
cute for anything.”
They waited outside until Mr. and Mrs. Sleeper joined them and Bob
introduced the old Indian, who gravely shook hands with each.
“Injun heap glad know friends of white boys,” he said.
Kernertok needed no introduction to Jacques as they were already
well acquainted.
All through the meal Bob was wondering whether or not they would
mention the scare Helen had received beneath the tree, but nothing
regarding it was said and he could not help but feel that it added
to the already grave suspicion against them. It seemed to him that
it would be a most natural thing for her to tell them about it
unless there was some reason for not doing so, and the reason, he
argued, could only be that they were, in some way, mixed up with the
strange events which had brought them there and which they had thus
far failed to solve.
“Do you expect the ghost to walk tonight?” Mr. Sleeper asked near
the end of the meal.
“I don’t know,” Bob replied. “I don’t know why he shouldn’t unless
he knows that we have a dog here.”
Was it his imagination or did Mr. and Mrs. Sleeper exchange a
knowing glance as he made the reply? He was not sure but it looked
very much like it and he mentioned it to Jack as soon as they were
alone.
“I didn’t notice it,” Jack said and then added: “Are you sure that
you’re not getting so suspicious of them that your mind is acting on
the bias?”
“I hope not, although, to tell the truth I’ve been thinking of that
very thing and I know it’s mighty easy to misconstrue a word or an
action when you’re suspicious.”
“You bet it is.”