WORD FROM THE HERMIT
"Look here, you chaps," called Garry, as he gazed at the little roll of
bark, which he had not yet picked up. The boys crowded around and looked
at him in amazement.
"Without making any rash bets," announced Garry, "I'll wager my best
rifle against a plugged nickel, that one of our friends has been in this
vicinity within the past few hours. Cast your eyes on that roll of bark,
and tell me if you dare that we won't find a funny cryptic little
message in it!"
"The Hermit!" burst out Dick and Phil almost in one breath.
"That's my guess. Now we'll see if we are right," and Garry stooped and
picked up the little roll from its resting place beneath the stone.
"It's the Hermit, and it's just the kind of a note I expected to find.
Listen to this. 'Unseen watchers often give the best aid. When you need
me most, I'll be with you.' And it's signed with his old mark, the lone
pine with the crossmarked boulder," said Garry as he had finished
reading.
"Well, if that doesn't beat anything I ever heard of," said Dick. "How
in the name of all that's wonderful did he ever find us in this part of
the country?"
"I think I can answer that," interrupted Phil. "He must have run across
Nate Webster and asked about us. It is likely that Nate told him where
we were going, and since he knew that we were good friends, might have
given him an inkling of the business that we were here on. The thing
that puzzles me is why he should not have waited and seen us, or even
waked us up to say howdy."
"Well, you know what a queer old codger he was, and this latest stunt is
typical of him. Much as I would like to see him, I confess I would have
been a little bit disappointed if he had not done something out of the
ordinary," replied Garry.
"Wonder where he went after he left the note?" queried Dick.
"Oh, he's probably somewhere out in the woods, you know life in the open
woods is nothing to him, after all the years that he must have lived in
them. The main question now, since we can do nothing about our friend
the Hermit, as he will come in his own good time, is to see what has
happened to Sandy. I cannot understand his going away. He may have
chased up some animal, and if so he will be back. But it is unusual for
him ever to stir away from where we are sleeping until he knows that we
are up and about."
Throughout the morning they searched every nook and corner of the camp,
going almost to the edge of the cutting operations, asking all the
workers they met whether or not the dog had been seen. Their search was
of no avail. The day dragged on, still no Sandy, and each passing hour
made the chums more downcast.
"I'm beginning to think that this is step number two to drive us out,"
gritted Garry between his teeth. "I tell you this, boys, if it is so,
and I'm inclined to believe it more and more, if any harm comes to Sandy
through the machinations of this crew that are trying to ruin Dad's
business, there's going to be one of the sweetest little wars started
that Barrows and his whole crew ever even dreamed of."
"I'm with you, Garry. That dog was more than human, and the best friend
that a bunch of chums like us could ever hope to have," replied Dick as
he patted his friend on the shoulder. Phil said nothing, but the others
could see by the tightening of the corners of his mouth,--the danger
signal when Phil was really aroused over anything,--that he was with
them to the end.
"There doesn't seem to be anything that we can do. I've looked carefully
over the ground for any signs of a struggle, but I can find nothing.
There was some trickery of some kind to get Sandy away. It may have been
done only to steal him and possibly sell him, but it may be that there
was a foul purpose in getting the dog away from us. The time has come
for real action. Let's get going early in the morning and keep our eyes
and ears sharply on the lookout. Phil, you watch the cookee closely and
see if there are any more midnight appointments to be made. Dick, you
look out for the sawmill, and see if there is any funny business being
done with the saw. You know enough about machinery to be able to detect
if it is working properly, and your common sense will tell you if there
seems to be a slackening up of production. It stands to reason that the
boss of the sawmill must be in on this scheme, for more delay can be
caused here than anywhere else. It is unlikely that there are many men
in on this plot. Too many would make it unsafe for the conspirators,
they couldn't all keep their mouths shut. I'll keep an eye on Barrows
and see what conferences he holds with the men. I hope that Howells gets
back here soon, I feel that we need immediate advice from someone who is
more experienced in the lumbering business than we are. Now let's hop to
it."
The two boys did as their leader had directed. Phil ambled off to the
cookhouse with the intention of offering his services in peeling
potatoes to the cookee in order that he might have an excuse for keeping
near the fellow. Dick at once made for the sawmill.
When he arrived there, the busy hum of activity seemed to be all about
him. But as he watched he became conscious of the fact that there seemed
to be several things that delayed the game. The man who drove one of the
tractors seemed to be having continual trouble with the engine, and
several minutes on each trip were consumed in needless repairs. Dick
could see with half an eye that there was little the trouble with the
engine except that which was created by the driver himself. The man kept
up a continual stream of grumbling at the way the engine was acting,
evidently to make the trouble appear to be real.
Once Dick saw that there was a loose wire connection which the driver
purposely overlooked, and after he had watched the man waste ten minutes
in needless overhauling, he stepped up and offered his services.
The man refused with a growl and an oath. Dick managed to restrain his
temper, although he wanted to tell the man how evident his stalling
around was.
"Oh, all right, I don't mean to interfere with your business, but your
wire to your battery is unconnected," and Dick turned on his heel.
Seeing that Dick really knew what he was talking about, the driver
attached the wire and in a moment or two was off for another load of
logs.
"If he wastes that much time every trip," thought Dick to himself, "he
might just as well try to bring in the logs on his back. In the course
of a week that would mean almost a day's production gone to waste, and I
haven't watched long enough to know how much time he takes on his trip."
Quite frequently the saw would be stopped for a moment while the boss
sawyer oiled up different parts of the machinery. He did not seem to
like Dick's watching him, but he was evidently a little wiser than the
driver, and attempted an explanation.
"This is the last saw we have in the camp," he told Dick. "The ones that
we ordered haven't shown up yet, and if anything goes wrong with this
one, we are hurt and hurt bad."
Dick pretended a great deal of ignorance about the saw, but he could see
that the sawyer regarded him with some suspicion.
Dick kept in the sawmill, but stayed as much as possible in the
background. After nearly an hour of watching, a great log was rolled
onto the carriage, and glancing at his watch, the boss sawyer called an
assistant and gave him charge of the saw. Then he hastened from the mill
and started in the direction of the camp, evidently to hold a conference
with Barrows. Dick was turning to saunter out when he heard a terrific
tearing sound as of steel being ground between heavy rollers, then a cry
of pain from the sawyer. Dick turned and rushed to the scene. The saw
was still grinding into the obstruction that was causing the noise, and
several pieces of flying steel were in the air. The sawyer had his hands
clasped to his face, and the blood was streaming from between his
fingers.
Dick saw that there was no one with presence of mind enough to throw the
lever that shut off the saw, and he ran and threw off the lever. Then he
returned to the injured man. The flying teeth of the saw had cut his
face in several places, but fortunately his eyes were uninjured. That he
had escaped being blinded was almost a miracle.
The thought that flashed through Dick's mind that here was an instance
of what Howells had told them, of the spiking a tree in the upper part
where it would hit the saw. Dick asked the old man who had told them how
to fumigate their shack the day before if he could roll back the saw
without starting up the engine and causing more teeth to be broken and
start flying about the place.
In a few minutes the old timer had worked the saw back so that Dick
could examine it. It required only a moment to see that the saw was
irreparably ruined. Most of the teeth had been bent or broken off, and a
further examination showed that several parts of the saw carriage and
control had been broken or strained by the unwonted burden that had been
put on them.
At this moment the boss sawyer and Barrows, the manager, had come
rushing up to the mill to inquire what was the trouble. Garry was with
them, and Dick gave him a significant look, unobserved by the others.
"What's all the trouble?" inquired Barrows needlessly, for he could see
with half an eye the damage that had been wrought.
"Seems as if your saw was a total wreck," answered Dick. "Must have
struck a ton of metal in the heart of that tree to do all that damage."
"Nonsense," cried Barrows. "Whoever heard of metal in a tree?"
"Could it have been a defective saw?" inquired Garry soberly, for the
purpose of hearing what reply Barrows would make.
"Yes, that's what it must have been, a defective saw," repeated the
manager, parrot fashion.
"Defective saw me eye," broke in the old helper. "That tree has been
spiked and spiked good and plenty. That's the second saw that went that
way this summer. Tother time it nearly killed the sawyer when the belt
flew off and almost got him tangled up in the machinery. There's one
sure way to find out what caused it, and that's to roll her off the
carriage and split off that place where the saw started to eat through.
If there isn't a spike there, you can have my month's wages."
"You seem to know all about it, and perhaps we shall find out why you
know so much about the matter," and Barrows favored the old man with a
look that boded no good to him.
In the face of the old timer's statement, and because Dick and Garry
were looking at the manager as though they expected him to take speedy
action, there was nothing for Barrows to do but follow the suggestion
and order the log rolled off. This was done, and then several wedges
were driven in, and using the backs of single bitted axes, the section
of tree was soon split open. There plainly revealed to view were several
bent, cut and twisted spikes!
"That's what broke your saw," exclaimed the old man. "Shame, too, a nice
saw like that ruined and the only one in the camp at that!"
"That will do, Collins," cut in Barrows sharply. "Your opinion wasn't
asked. Besides, I am still wondering how your knowledge of the spiking
seemed to prove so accurate."
"I was raised in the woods, and I know all the little tricks. There's
dirty work afoot here somewhere," returned old Collins staunchly.
"Yes, I guess you do know all the tricks, but I know a good one, too;
you go and get your pay from the timekeeper and start on your way,"
ground out the manager.
"Isn't that just a trifle hasty, Mr. Barrows?" cut in Garry.
"Listen, my boy. With all due respect to the son of my employer, I must
say that I am manager of this camp, and what I say goes. You know I am
protecting your father's business, and there has been so much funny
business going on lately that something must be done, and I am going to
begin by cutting out all the suspicious characters. In my judgment
Collins is such a character."
"Huh," muttered Dick in an undertone. "A fine protector you are, and you
know that Collins is innocent. He knows too much, that's all."
Old Collins marched out of the mill section and started toward the
office. A moment later Dick unobtrusively followed him. In a few seconds
he had caught up with the man and said goodbye to him.
"Goodbye, my lad, and let me give you a warning. Tell your pal that his
father's business is going to pot here. There's something underfoot, I
don't know what it is or why, but it's there. Too many accidents. You
watch that Barrows and watch the timekeeper, and keep an eye on the two
drivers with the moustaches. Throw in the cookee for good measure, and
you'll have a precious lot of rascals."
Dick tried to elicit further information, but found that the old fellow
either did not know anything specific, or was crotchety and would not
tell.
There being nothing that could be done further, the manager and Dick
returned to the office, while Garry went to the bunkhouse to see if he
could render any aid to the man who had been cut by the flying particles
of the saw.
At the office they found waiting their acquaintance of the attempted
holdup, Arthur Howells. He acted according to the agreement and waited
till they had been introduced.
"This is our scaler and cruiser," announced Barrows.
Upon the boys professing ignorance of what the duties of a scaler were,
they received an invitation from Howells to come with him after dinner
and watch the operations. Barrows heartily advised the boys to go with
him and learn something of the way in which the trees were spotted and
the lumber measured.
The chums knew well that the invitation was solely for the purpose of
getting them away from the camp so that they could confer on what was
going on.
After dinner they sought out Howells, and after he had armed himself
with a scaling stick, marked off in measurements, which was used to
measure the trees, they wandered into the woods.
"Now, boys, what news?" he asked.
In a few words they told him of the events that had transpired since
their arrival.
Howells was especially interested in the matter of the spiked tree, and
was indignant at the fact that Collins had been discharged.
"Why, the old man was as honest as the day is long. He used to know your
father a good many years ago, Garry, and he would never do anything that
would harm him or his business," Howells said vehemently.
"Next thing on the docket," said Garry, "is to ask what news you have."
"I have something that will knock the feet almost out from under you. In
addition to the trouble caused by the breakage and wasting, there is
something even deeper yet. I always get the reports from the receiving
stations of the amount of lumber that is sent out. I know after
measuring, just how much has gone out. Today my reports show that all
the timber that is cut here does not arrive at its destination.
"What do you mean?" said Garry.
"Just what I mean is this. Somewhere, somehow, your father's lumber is
being stolen en route to its destination!"