"Hey, would you see how fine a fire-tender that Giraffe is; it's gone clean out, that's what?" cried Step Hen, just then.
"Well, would you blame him, when he was listening to such an interesting story as the one I had to tell?" asked Thad. "Get busy, Number Six, and have a blaze going in quick time."
"Ay, ay, sir," sang out Giraffe, who had wisely laid aside a surplus supply of fine stuff when making the fire, which now came in very handy.
And when the coffee was finally done, and they gathered around, sitting on rocks, logs, or even cross-legged, tailor-fashion, on the ground, the eight scouts made a very fine picture in their uniforms.
Apparently their appetites had been sharpened by that afternoon jaunt, judging from the way they pitched in. And perhaps, after all, Reuben Sparks had been a wise as well as prudent man when he failed to invite this squad of lads to stop over with him; for they would have made a sad inroad on the contents of his larder; and food costs money.
"Where's Bob?" demanded Bumpus, suddenly, after they had been about half an hour trying to lighten their supplies, and with wonderfully good success. "He was sitting over yonder only three minutes ago; and now he's gone. Reckon that bad spirit of yours is sneakin' around again, Step Hen, and must a took Bob by mistake; though I pity his eyes if he'd ever think so good lookin' a feller as Bob could be you!"
"Bob's gone to keep his appointment," remarked Thad, quietly.
And the boys said nothing more about it, knowing that the Southern lad laid considerable store upon this meeting with his little cousin Bertha; whom he expected to coax in to helping him try and see whether sly old Reuben Sparks might not have forgotten to destroy all evidence of fraud, in connection with his dealings with her father, the uncle of Bob.
So the conversation drifted to other topics; and soon they were laughing over some of the queer happenings in the past history of the Silver Fox Patrol.
The flames crackled merrily, and the seven boys who lounged there in as comfortable attitudes as they could strike, were fully enjoying themselves. This sort of outdoor life seemed to appeal very strongly to all of them, though of course to some more than others.
It had always been a passion with Thad, for instance; and Allan could look back to scores of occasions when he sat by a camp-fire; because he was a Maine boy, and as such had spent considerable time in the piney woods of his native State, hunting, fishing, and living close to Nature's heart.
While they could not indulge in any of their songs, according to the regulations that had been put in force by the patrol leader, this did not prevent the boys from enjoying sundry good laughs when comical stories were told.
"Reckon Bob's been gone more'n an hour now," remarked Step Hen, who had been more thrilled by the story of the Government agent's sad fate than any of the others; because Step Hen had always been a great reader of tales of daring and adventure, and often pictured himself playing the rôle of a hero, with the admiring crowd cheering him to the echo, and wanting to carry him around on their shoulders.
"Yes, and pretty soon Allan will be going out to communicate with him, because, you know they arranged a series of signals by means of the lantern, and burning matches that Bob'll hold up. But don't talk too loud about that same matter, Step Hen; because, you understand, we're close by the road; and somebody might be coming along at the time. Remember that man we saw sitting on the rock with his gun between his knees? Well, I guess there are a considerable number of others just like him around these diggings; and by now they all know we're in the mountains, bent on some errand they can't understand."
Of course it was Thad himself who said all this. He knew the failing Step Hen had of shouting everything out loud; and Thad really believed they would be wise to carry on their conversation in tones that could not be heard very far away.
It turned out later that he was wiser than he dreamed, when he gave Step Hen this little hint.
They had started Bumpus telling how an angry bull had once chased him around a tree on his uncle's farm, and the boys were laughing at his comical description of the scene at the time when the pursuit was hottest, and he could have caught hold of the animal's tail had he wanted, when a dismal wail arose.
"Well, did you ever, if that ain't Step Hen putting up his regular howl!" exclaimed Giraffe, indignantly.
"And just when Bumpus here had got to the most exciting point in his yarn," added the disgusted Davy Jones.
"Whatever are you looking for now, you poor silly thing?" demanded the story-teller, who himself disliked very much to have his thrilling tale interrupted in this manner.
"I can't find my hat, and that's what?" declared the scout whose besetting sin was carelessness; "Had it on only a little while ago, but now it's sure gone up the flue."
Step Hen twisted his neck as he spoke, and looked up into the branches of the tree under which they had built their camp-fire; just as though he really suspected that a giant hand had been lowered from the foliage, to clutch his campaign hat from his head, and vanish with it.
Things that Step Hen owned were always in great demand among these mysterious spirits of the air; since nothing belonging to his chums seemed ever to disappear.
"Oh! sit down, and let Bumpus finish his story," growled Giraffe. "What's an old hat after all, to kick up such a row over it? Ten to one now you've stowed it away in one of your pockets. I've known you to do that more'n a few times."
"'Tain't so, because I've tried every pocket I've got, and never found a thing. P'raps, now, one of you fellers happened to see it lying around, and put it on, of course by mistake, thinkin' it his own. Anybody got two hats on?"
"You make me tired, sure you do, Step Hen," Giraffe continued. "We know what he is, boys, and that none of us will get any peace till his old hat turns up. Might as well get out, and find it for the poor baby. If I lost things as much as Step Hen does, I'd just get some twine, and tie everything on, good and tight. Then if I missed my hat all I'd have to do would be to pull in a certain string, and there she'd be, all slick and sound."
While he was speaking Giraffe arose to his feet, but not without making sundry wry faces; for he had been sitting a whole hour in a cramped position, and his muscles were moreover tired from the day's jaunt.
"Now watch me find your old hat before you can say Jack Robinson fifty times," he boasted, as he started to hustle about.
Step Hen seemed quite willing that he should carry out his word, for he himself made no further move looking to hunting for the missing head-gear.
Suddenly they heard Giraffe give a queer little grunt, that seemed to contain a mixture of satisfaction and disdain. He darted into the adjoining bushes.
"Here she is!" he called out, "and alyin' in the shadows, as cute as you please. Use your eyes next time, Step Hen, and p'raps—oh! great governor!"
Giraffe came jumping back into the circle of light cast by the camp-fire. He certainly did have a hat clutched in his hand, at which he was staring in the oddest way imaginable.
The others had gained their feet, drawn by some motive that possibly they themselves did not half understand; but it had seemed to Thad as though there was a note of sudden alarm in Giraffe's cry; and the others may have thought the same thing.
Step Hen, believing himself to be entitled to the recovery of his individual property, hustled forward, and deliberately took the hat from the hand of his comrade.
"Much obliged, Giraffe, on account of going to all that trouble for me," he said, sweetly, so as to impress the other, and cause him to repeat the favor at some future time. "But it's mighty queer how my hat ever got over in that clump of bushes. Give you my word for it, I ain't stepped that way since we struck here; afraid of snakes, you know, fellers. Goes to prove what I told you about something hoverin' around, that we just can't see, and which grabs things belongin' to me every—say, Giraffe, what sort of a joke are you playin' on me now; this ain't my hat!"
"I—know—it—ain't!" gasped the tall scout, who seemed to have some difficulty in regaining his breath.
"It's an old and worn-out thing in the bargain; and see here, it ain't even regulation campaign, because it's off color. There ain't no cord around it either; and my hat's got my badge fastened to it, to tell it from the rest when they get mixed. Where'd you get this old thing, anyhow, Giraffe?"
By now the other had recovered from the shock which he seemed to have received. He was even eager to tell his version of the affair, as his comrades clustered around him.
"I saw the hat when I told you I did," he began, in an awed voice; "and all the time I was aspeakin' I kept pushin' my way into the brush, intendin' to snatch up the same, and throw it out to Step Hen here. The reason I cut short was because, when I grabbed the hat by the rim, and gave a jerk, I felt a head under it!"
Bumpus immediately caught hold of the arm of the scoutmaster. It was not because he was afraid, though Bumpus had often been reckoned a bit timid; but the action appeared to inspire him with confidence. He knew that Thad would be equal to the emergency. And in times of stress it feels good to be in close touch with one who is going to save the day.
Thad understood without being told, what it all meant. Some spy had been secretly observing the movements of the scouts, hidden in that bunch of brushwood; and when his hat caught the eager eye of Giraffe, the latter had supposed of course that it was the missing head-gear.
They looked blankly at each other, Thad, Allan and the other five. Then, as if unconsciously, and by mutual consent, they turned their gaze in the direction of the thicket from which Step Hen had just emerged, bearing the tell-tale stranger hat in his hand.
Perhaps they expected to see some one rushing away in hot haste, so as not to be caught napping by these young fellows wearing the uniform in use by United States regulars.
But nothing seemed to be moving there; at least they caught no sound to indicate that the spy was in full flight at that moment.
Thad reached out, and took the hat from the trembling hand of Step Hen; who heaved a sigh of relief upon feeling it leave his clutch; as though a spell might have been broken by the act.
One look told the patrol leader that in all probability the hat belonged to a mountaineer. It was indeed old, and had an unusually wide brim. Being somewhat of the same color as those worn by the scouts, in the semi-darkness it was no wonder Giraffe had made the mistake he did, and reached out for it, under the belief that he had found the missing head-gear of the careless comrade.
Of course he realized his astonishing mistake the instant his fingers came in contact with a human head that had been held low down, in the expectation that the spying owner might remain undiscovered.
Thad knew that they were apt to see more of the one to whom that article belonged. Sometimes these mountaineers think a good deal of the hats they wear; at least Thad knew they clung to them a pretty long time, if the greasy appearance of some he had seen might be taken for an index to the affection they entertained for the felt that sheltered their heads from the summer sun, and the wintry blasts.
"Well, Giraffe, you certainly made a big mistake when you took this hat for the one our chum had lost," remarked Thad, in a loud, clear voice, which he hoped would reach the ears of the one in hiding, and bring him forth; "and you owe some sort of an apology to the owner."
"But how in the wide world c'n I tell whose hat it is, Thad?" expostulated the tall and lanky scout.
"Thet's all right, younker," said a gruff voice, "I'm the critter as owns thet ere hat; Phin Dady's my name. Reckon ye've heard o' me," and with the words a man stalked into the camp.
He was tall and straight, and carried a long repeating rifle. More than that, he had a small face, and piercing eyes like those of a badger. And every scout felt a thrill as he realized that he was face to face with the notorious moonshiner, Phin Dady, whom the whole United States Government had tried for years in vain to capture.
The boys looked at the moonshiner, who returned their stares with interest. He seemed utterly indifferent as to whether they chose to receive him either as a friend or a foe. From this Thad was almost certain that there must be other fierce mountaineers close by, ready to back up their chief, should he provoke a quarrel with the strange boys in uniform.
That fact meant serious trouble for the scouts, if it happened to come to pass. Thad knew that these lawless men of the mountains, who snap their fingers at the authority of the courts, and feel safe in the security of their secret fastnesses, deep in the unknown regions back of the trodden trails, think very little of human life. They are usually engaged in some vendetta between rival factions, or families, and blood is frequently shed.
Understanding how thin was the ice upon which he and his comrades were skating, the patrol leader felt that he could not be too careful how he provoked this man of strong passions to violence.
A little to his surprise Phin Dady wheeled, and faced him directly. But then the mountaineer was gifted with a sharp vision, and he could readily guess which one of the scouts served in the capacity of leader. Perhaps there was that in the manner of Thad to tell him this fact. Or he might have been watching and listening long enough to see how the others all deferred to Thad's judgment.
"I gut yer letter O. K.," he said, simply.
Thad's anxious face brightened up instantly; he saw that for the time being the other meant to put aside his hostility. Curiosity had supplanted enmity. He wanted to learn more about what that term "Boy Scouts," used in the message left in the cleft of the stick, might mean.
"And I hope you read what we wrote, Phin Dady?" the boy asked, eagerly.
A whimsical smile flashed athwart the thin face of the mountaineer.
"As fur me, I ain't much o' a hand ter read, any more'n I am ter write; but thar chanced ter be a feller along as hed sum schoolin'; an' him an' me, we managed ter figger it out. Thort as how I'd like ter run up agin ye all, an' larn wat all this hyar bizness consarnin' Boy Scouts be. Heerd tell 'bout sich, but never cud find anythin' but a cold trail. So I kim over ter see ye; an' p'raps now ye'd open up an' 'xplain."
"I'll be only too glad to do that, if you'll take a seat at our camp-fire here for a little while, Phin Dady," Thad remarked, making a movement with his hand to indicate where the other could find a comfortable spot to rest.
The man looked closely at the speaker; then turned his head, and deliberately made a motion with his hand, that must have been intended for some concealed confederate. After which he stepped over, and took a seat, but not the one Thad had indicated as the post of honor.
"Reckon I'll sit hyar, ef so be it's all ther same ter you-uns," he said, as he dropped down, and swung his rifle across his knees. "Yuh see, I likes ter look at everybody w'en I gets ter talkin'. It's more sociable like."
But Thad knew better. The gleam in those beady eyes told him what the true meaning of this action must be. When a man has been hunted, in and out of season, for the better part of his long life, he naturally become most suspicious of every stranger, young and old. Many had been the shrewd games engineered by the revenue men to catch this old weasel asleep. He trusted no one all the way, even his best friends, who might be tempted to betray him because of the reward that was offered for his capture.
But although Thad had guessed just why the other chose the seat he had taken, it would have been most unwise on his part to have shown any resentment; or even to let Phin Dady know that he understood.
"You see," Thad began, simply, "we were warned to be careful before we left Asheville, because people said that the fact of our wearing uniforms might make the mountain folks think we had something to do with the army. I was explaining all about what the Boy Scouts represent to Mr. Reuben Sparks only a short time ago, and he was greatly interested. If you'll listen, then, I'll go back, and tell what we aim to do; and why we have left our homes to take a long hike through a mountainous region, for up where we live we have no such big hills as these."
So Thad began, and told in as simple language as he could find just what objects were kept in mind among all troops of Boy Scouts, whether in America, England, Australia, South Africa, Germany, France or any other country on the face of the globe.
Fortunately Thad was a good talker. He knew how to make use of a whole lot of little things in order to arouse the interest of the one who was listening; and he certainly had a subject worthy of his best efforts in this explanation of what the Boy Scout movement stood for.
And the mountain man was deeply interested too. He proved this by the way he hung upon the words of the boy. Now and then his suspicious nature would show itself in a cautious look around, as though he wanted to make sure that no shrewd game were being engineered, while the speaker kept his attention engaged.
Several times he broke in on Thad to ask questions. He could not get it through his head, for instance, why boys any more than men, should set about doing all the work that scouts attempt, without pay. In this region of the hookworm, where men never dream of working until driven to it by actual hunger, they think others must be crazy to voluntarily take upon themselves huge tasks that try both brain and muscle.
"But sure the Gov'ment pays yuh!" he said three separate times, as though he felt positive there must be some secret connection between the Boy Scout movement, and the authorities at Washington; else why should they be wearing the uniform he and his fellow-moonshiners had come to look on as the mark of the oppressor; for several times the army had been called into the field to hunt down the elusive law breakers, who simply vanished utterly from view, and remained in hiding until the raid was over.
"Not one cent do we get from anybody," Thad assured him, positively. "Why, even our uniforms have to be bought with money we've each one earned. We're not allowed to accept them as a gift from any man, or any source. So you see, we're under no obligations to anybody."
Again Phin Dady asked a series of questions which would indicate that he was at least interested in all Thad told him, though possibly he believed only a small part of the whole.
When Thad repeated to him the twelve cardinal features of a Boy Scout's vow, taken when he joined a troop, Phin shook his head helplessly, as though it were beyond his power of understanding. Indeed, that was where the trouble lay; he possessed so shallow a nature that he was utterly unable to grasp the full significance of the scheme. There must be some sort of recompense, in dollars and cents, to make it worth while for any person to do things that called for labor. And that was why he continued to keep his weapon across his knees as he sat and listened, and asked an occasional question. Phin Dady was not going to be lulled to sleep by any interesting yarn that sounded very "fishy" in his ears.
Of course, the other scouts had discreetly remained silent while all this was going on. They were content to let Thad do the talking, for none of them could equal the patrol leader in explaining what the benefits were, which boys might expect to obtain when they joined a scout patrol.
Several of them just sat there, and stared in open-mouthed wonder at the man, of whom they had heard more or less lately, and whose defiance of the authorities had been a matter of many years' standing.
Phin Dady might boast of no education whatever; and his knowledge of the world, outside the confines of the Big Smokies, was doubtless extremely limited; but he did possess what served him far better in the warfare in which he was continually engaged with revenue agents—a natural shrewdness such as the wily fox of the forest shows, and by means of which he outwits his pursuers.
"An' yuh kim 'way down this away jest tuh climb the mountings, an' see wot yuh cud do acampin' out without ary tents er blankets, did yuh?" the mountaineer went on, surveying the boyish faces that formed a half circle around him. "Wall, I jest reckons ye'll know a heap more by ther time ye gits back ter yer homes'n yuh did w'en yuh started out."
He chuckled as he said that. Thad wondered whether there could be any hidden meaning back of the words. When dealing with such a slippery customer as this hunted moonshiner, it was always necessary to keep on the watch. The man who always suspected others of double dealing might be in the same class himself.
"Oh! we're quite sure of that," said the patrol leader, with a pleasant smile. "Already those among us who had never climbed a mountain slope before, have had their leg muscles stiffened, and can do better work than in the start. We expect to have a pretty good time all around. And we wrote you that message, Phin Dady, because we believed you were ordering us out of these mountains under a mistake that we meant to do you, or some of your friends, harm. We want you to feel that we never dreamed of that when we started in here."
"Then I hopes as how yuh beant changin' o' yer minds sence yuh kim," remarked the moonshiner, just as though he knew what the subject of their recent conversations might have been.
Before Thad could decide just what sort of an answer he ought to make, if any at all, the manner of the other changed as if by magic. His face took on a fierce expression, and he looked along the row of boyish faces by which he was confronted, as though one of them had done something to arouse his hot anger.
The click of the hammer of his gun could be heard as his thumb drew it back; and the scouts shrank away in dismay when they saw the flame in his small eyes.
"Quick! tell me you'uns, whar be the other one? Thar was sure eight w'en we counted yuh from the side o' the mounting. An' it mout pay yuh ter 'member thet Ole Phin, he beant the man ter fool with. Eight thar was; whar be the other right now?"
And Thad realized that the ice was indeed getting desperately thin under their feet at that particular moment.
Thad himself managed to retain his self-possession under these trying conditions. What he believed he had to fear most of all, was that one of his chums might give the secret away by some ill-advised remark, uttered under the spur of the moment. He knew that they must have shrunk back, appalled, when the moonshiner made such a threatening move, accompanying his fierce words. But for the life of him Thad could not tear his eyes away from the face of the man himself.
It was just as well. Phin Dady looked to Thad, as the leader of the scouts, for an answer to his demand. Had the boy shown any evidences of confusion or weakening just then, it might have confirmed the sudden ugly suspicions that had flashed into the other's mind, and just when he was growing more or less interested in the wonderful stories he had been listening to concerning the aims and ambitions of these uniformed lads.
"There are eight of us, just as you say," Thad remarked, trying to look surprised at the change of front on the part of his caller; "but the other one, White his name is, has gone to see Reuben Sparks on business. We expect him back inside of an hour or so. If you'd care to wait you can meet him."
His air was so candid, and his face so free from guile that the moonshiner could find no further cause for suspicion. Besides, had he not heard in the beginning that the scouts had already made the acquaintance of Reuben Sparks; who, like himself had displayed more or less interest in their aims and ambitions.
Phin Dady even began to feel a little ashamed of his sudden threatening attitude. The fierce look on his thin face, that with his gleaming wolfish eyes, had made him appear so savage, gradually vanished. It gave way to a rather stupid grin; as though the man realized how silly it was of him to suspect that these half-grown boys could do injury to one who for years had defied all the forces of the United States Government.
"So, thet's it, younker, is it?" he said; "wall, I'm right glad ye c'd 'xplain ther thing right off'n the reel. Course Mister Sparks, he's int'rested in byes, even ef he beant the father o' any hisself. An' he 'vited yer pal over ter see him, did he, so's ter tell him a heap more?"
"He was very much taken with the idea, and showed it by asking a great many questions," Thad went on; trying to keep within the lines of the truth, and yet allow the other to draw his own conclusions, to the effect that Reuben had given one of the patrol a pressing invitation to call upon him, and continue the interesting recital of the Boy Scouts' ambitions.
"Yuh war sayin' right now, thet these hyar byes hain't never 'xpectin' ter be sojers; an' thet they don't kerry arms; air thet a fack?"
When the mountaineer made this remark he was looking straight toward the tree, against which rested the shotgun. Evidently he was a little in doubt concerning the truth of what the patrol leader had said; or it may have been, wise Old Phin was desirous of learning just what he and his followers would have to go up against if ever they attacked the camp of the invaders.
Thad laughed good-naturedly.
"That's the only firearm in camp, just at present," he declared. "It belongs to me, you see. We knew there would be little or no hunting on this trip, as the season for protection in North Carolina is on. But not wanting to be without some sort of arms, it was decided to carry just one shotgun. Later on we expect to spend some time up in Maine; and then it'll be all right for us to carry rifles for big game shooting. One of our members comes from Maine, and knows all about it up in that region."
Thad talked at length, because he saw that somehow the sound of his voice seemed to have a soothing effect on the rough mountaineer. Evidently Phin Dady had taken more or less of a fancy to the leader of the scouts. He had known many boys in his day, and perhaps had one or two of his own; but they were like bear cubs in comparison with this frank-faced youth, with the winning smile, and a whole dictionary of words at the tip of his tongue.
By now the balance of the boys had managed to recover from their fright. They even began to show an interest in the conversation, though not venturing to say a word unless Thad appealed directly to one of them; as he did occasionally, to corroborate something he had declared.
It was a scene they would none of them be apt to forget in a long time—this untamed old mountaineer sitting there by their camp-fire, asking questions in connection with a subject that had aroused his keenest curiosity; while they lounged around, listening, and drinking in what was said.
Would he never go? Had he then determined to wait for the return of the eighth scout? Perhaps he suspected already the identity of Bob Quail. This was a matter that gave Thad considerable concern, for it meant immediate trouble for their comrade; since the moonshiner might have his old-time enmity for the Quail family revived, under the impression that Bob's coming meant danger for himself.
Once Allan arose, and stepped outside the circle of firelight. The mountaineer eyed him with just a trifle of the old suspicion apparently rising again; for Thad could see a nervous twitch to the brown hands that caressed the stock of the repeating rifle.
But if this were so, Phin Dady must have realized that he could have little or nothing to fear from one stripling of that species; for he immediately relapsed into his former careless attitude.
Thad could give a pretty good guess what it was that caused Allan to walk beyond the camp toward the place from which they had earlier in the evening watched the lights appear in the home of Reuben Sparks, as well as the few more humble cabins across the little valley.
Before Bob went away he had arranged a series of flash signals, by means of which he could communicate with his comrades of the patrol. They would not have been true Boy Scouts if they had not before now learned how to wigwag with flags, or lanterns, as well as use a looking-glass in the sun in heliograph telegraphy.
And so Allan, desirous of ascertaining whether all went well with the absent chum, was now starting out, lantern in hand, to learn whether he could get in communication with Bob.
Possibly some of Phin's followers might be in hiding close by, and witness these maneuvers with astonishment, not unmixed with suspicion. Thad concluded that it would be best to take the bull by the horns. If he confided in Old Phin, the other was apt to discount the news when told by his men.
"You remember that I told you," he remarked, "how Boy Scouts are taught to send messages by waving flags, just as they do in real armies; and at night time by means of lighted lanterns. Well, we never lose a chance to practice; and the boy you saw go out just now arranged to talk with the one who is across the valley."
"Huh!" grunted the mountaineer; and from that Thad concluded that he had allayed any suspicions that may have arisen in his mind.
"If you'd care to see how it's done, why, we can walk out, and watch the scout who has the lantern?" the patrol leader went on to say; though secretly hoping Old Phin might not evince enough interest to disturb himself.
Sometimes a bold move serves better than extreme caution. It seemed so in this case, at least, for the moonshiner, after making a slight move, as though to get up, appeared to think better of it, for he settled back again.
"I kin understand jest 'bout how it air dun, younker," he said. "Now tell me some more 'bout how yuh larn thet thar thing o' savin' a pal thet's been nigh drownded, or else cut a artery in his leg with a ax. I reckon now, that's 'bout the neatest trick I done ever heard on."
Being brim full of the subject, which always appealed to him more than he could tell, the young patrol leader immediately launched out into a description of the matters that seemed to have deeply interested even this rough old mountaineer.
Then he went a step further, and told how the scouts entered into the most amusing, as well as profitable, competitions among themselves. He described a water boiling test, where those in competition are given just three matches, and with an empty tin pail in hand, start at a signal to see which one can build his fire, fill his tin vessel at least two-thirds full of water, and have this actually boiling.
Perhaps that old moonshiner never spent a more interesting hour or so than by the camp-fire of the Boy Scouts; at any rate he certainly could not look back to one that must have been more profitable to him in every way.
Finally he arose as if to go; and about the same time Allan returned, with the lighted lantern in his hand.
"Did yuh git him?" asked Old Phin, with some show of eagerness.
"Yes, we held quite a little talk, and I guess he must have used up a handful of matches telling me what a pleasant time he had. Right now he's on his way to camp, and ought to get here inside of an hour."
Allan said this as though there could not be anything to conceal. He took a leaf from the example set by Thad. The latter knew that in all probability there had been more to the wigwag talk than Allan chose to state; but he was willing to wait until a more propitious time to hear it.
Taken in all, he believed they had come through the operation of baiting Phin Dady much better than any one could have expected. The old man was interested in what he had heard; and only for the fact that he bore a deadly hatred for the family of young Bob Quail, they would have little to fear from the king of the moonshiners, whose influence among the other mountaineers was such that he could easily sway them one way or the other at will.
Thad caught a wink when he looked into the face of the Maine boy. It told him that Allan had news to tell, which Bob had sent on ahead, knowing how anxious his chums would be to hear whether he had met with any measure of success or not in his undertaking.
When Thad turned around again he found that Old Phin had slipped away, taking advantage of their attention being directed for a minute toward the scout who had just come into camp with the lantern swinging at his side.
And Thad heaved a sigh of genuine relief when he found that this was so.
"He's gone!" exclaimed Bumpus; and it would have been hard to tell whether relief or regret lay back of his words; for some of the boys, forgetting the peril that might hang over the head of Bob White, did the moonshiner know of his presence, and his mission to the Blue Ridge, only considered the entertainment afforded by having Old Phin at their fire.
"And I guess the old feller's got enough information in his head to last him a long spell," remarked Giraffe.
"Say, p'raps he's seriously considerin' starting a troop of Boy Scouts here in the Blue Ridge country," suggested Step Hen, who sometimes did have brilliant ideas flash through his brain.
There was considerable of a laugh at this proposition, which struck the boys as about as absurd as anything they had heard for a long time.
"Wonder how our real scoutmaster, Dr. Philander Hobbs'd like to take the job?" chuckled Davy Jones. "He thought he had trouble enough on his hands when he ran up against a few hard cases, like Giraffe and Step Hen here; but they'd be just pie alongside the strappin' mountain kids we've seen."
"Well," remarked Thad, "you never can tell what might happen. Even those boys have got something in them that can be brought out, if only one knows how to go about it. Don't you forget, fellows, that some of the greatest men this country has ever known, were born among the mountains. And right now there may be a future president of the United States within ten miles of where we sit."
"Hear! hear!" cried Step Hen, pretending to clap his hands in applause.
"Huh! nearer than that, mebbe," declared Bumpus, mysteriously swelling out his chest and looking every inch the hero; "how would the name of Cornelius Jasper Hawtree sound to you? We've never had a President Hawtree; but that ain't no reason we never will, is it? Tell me that."
"Give it up," sang out Davy Jones.
"Anyhow, it'd sound more distinguished than plain Jones," retorted Bumpus.
"My name isn't Plain Jones, it's David Alexander Constantine Josephus, and a few more that, to tell the honest truth; I've forgot," the other went on.
Thad and Allan drew apart from all this mimic warfare, in which the fun-loving scouts liked to indulge from time to time.
"Then you did talk with Bob?" asked the former, with some show of eagerness in his voice.
"Yes," replied Allan, "it was great fun too. Waited a little while before I could get the first answer to all my waving; but in the end I saw a flash, like a match had been struck, and then we got in touch."
"What did Bob have to tell?" asked the patrol leader.
"He met his little cousin, all right, just as they had arranged," Allan went on to say. "And she must have told him something that has made our chum wild with delight, for he says the trip paid him twenty times over. Just what it was he didn't try to tell me, saying it would have to keep till he got to camp."
"Well, we can give a pretty good guess what it must be," Thad observed.
"You mean that Bertha has looked, and made a discovery among the papers in her guardian's safe; is that it, Thad?"
"Just about; but we'll have to quit guessing, and just wait till he comes in," said the scoutmaster, who knew just how to take a grip upon himself, and appear patient, where some of the other boys would have fretted, and worried greatly.
"He oughtn't to be more'n an hour, at the most," suggested Allan.
"Not unless something happens to him, which we hope it won't," replied Thad.
"You don't think now, do you," demanded the other, "that Old Phin might take a notion to waylay him, just to have a look at the eighth scout?"
"I've thought of that, but made up my mind that so far the moonshiner can have no suspicion who Bob is. And that being the case, Allan, you can see he wouldn't be apt to bother himself to lie in wait for him. I hope not, anyhow. It'd sure upset some of the plans we're trying so hard to fix. And it might spell trouble with a big T for Bob."
"He's a good fellow, all right," remarked Allan, not in the least jealous because his particular chum seemed drawn more than ever toward the Southern boy.
"That's right," answered Thad, quickly; "and we've just got to stand back of him, no matter what happens. I guess that if some of the boys' parents had had even half a suspicion that we'd run up against such a combination as this, they wouldn't have given their consent so easily to our coming!"
"I suppose that would have been the case with Bumpus and several others," the Maine boy went on; "but I've seen so much of this sort of thing up in the pine wood that it isn't new to me. Not that it doesn't give me a thrill, all right, whenever I think of what we're doing here, and how we had that man sitting at our fire, the worst moonshiner of the whole Blue Ridge, I guess. And Thad, you did give him a treat, the way you talked. I could see that he took considerable stock in all you said. And you opened his eyes some, believe me, with all the wonderful things you reeled off."
"Wonderful to him, Allan, but the plain every day truth to the rest of us. But I've always heard that there is a spark of good even in the worst man living; and perhaps his weakness for boys may be the soft spot in Old Phin Dady, the moonshiner's heart."
They presently went back to the others, and joined in the general conversation, which, quite naturally enough, was pretty much confined to the visit of the mountaineer, what he had spoken about, his suspicions, and above all the strange interest he had taken in Thad's account of the Boy Scout movement.
"Hello! there!" said a voice; and they saw Bob White stalk into camp.
One look at the face of the Southern boy told Thad that he had indeed made a profitable trip, for he saw a smile there, such as had seldom marked it in the past.
They quickly made room for him by the fire; while several of the boys scouted around, to make sure that no spies lurked in the undergrowth, listening to all that was said.
The fire crackled merrily, and looked very cheerful, as the ring of faces turned inquiringly toward Bob White. He knew they were anxious to hear what he had accomplished; and, as there were no longer any secrets to be kept from the balance of the patrol, all having been taken into his confidence, the Southern boy hesitated no longer.
"I found no trouble getting across the valley," he began; "though once I had to lie low, when two men passed by. From what I heard them say, I knew they were some of the moonshiners, and that they had been ordered to take up positions somewhere, and stand guard. They seemed to be all at sea about the nature of the danger, and yet when Old Phin gave the alarm, they knew what they had to do."
"We ought to tell you in the start, Bob," said Thad, "that we had Phin Dady sitting right where you are now; and that he stayed more than a full hour in camp."
"Yes," broke in Bumpus, "and filling up on the stuff Thad gave him, all about the heaps of things Boy Scouts are supposed to do. He liked it, too, sure as you live, Old Phin did; and we reckon he's got a sneakin' notion of startin' a troop right here, some fine day."
Bob White appeared to be astonished, and demanded to hear the whole story before he went on with his own experiences. This was presently told, and the one who had been absent at the time looked thoughtful when he heard the conclusion.
"It may work for good, who knows?" he remarked, as though speaking to himself. "He's a strange man, is Old Phin; a hard case in most ways; but p'raps now he has got a soft spot in his flinty old heart for boys. He's a daughter of his own but no sons. And that kind of men generally take to boys best."
"If they do, it's because they don't know what boys are like," suggested Bumpus.
"Now go on and tell us what you did," observed Thad. "Was your cousin at the place you told her about?"
"Yes, it was a little arbor in the garden that I knew well," remarked Bob, tenderly. "She was right glad to see me again, suh; and while she wouldn't tell me all I wanted to know, I'm mighty sure Reuben Sparks is cruel to her. She has been anything but happy; and always dreamin' of the time when I'd come back to see her, and take her to my mother."
"Did she do what you asked her?" asked Thad, seeing that Bob was apt to lose the thread of his narrative in letting his thoughts stray back to his meeting with little Bertha, whom he loved like a sister.
"She did, suh, took a chance to peep through some of the papers in the safe of Mistah Sparks; and believe me, she gave me a shock when she said there was one hidden in a little compartment, that seemed to have been signed by her own father. I asked her some more questions, and I'm almost sure that it's a will which Reuben Sparks kept hidden away, but which something or other has prevented him from destroying these four years and more, since my uncle died."
"If you only could get that in your hands, and it turned out to be all you think, seems to me you might do about what you wanted with old Reuben," Thad remarked.
"Given another day, and good luck, suh, and I surely expect to have the same in my possession. Then I can shape my plans; but one thing sure, my cousin will go back to Cranford with me!" and Bob smote the palm of his left hand with his doubled right fist, to emphasize his remark.
No one seemed a particle sleepy. Indeed, they had never been more wide awake in their lives. Even Davy Jones, filled with the spirit of mischief that seemed to take possession of him every once in so often, climbed the tree under which they had built their camp-fire, and swung himself from limb to limb; now with his hands but just as frequently by his toes; as though he wanted to prove the truth of what that learned professor by the name of Darwin always declared, that we were descended from a race of monkeys.
The rest were lying around in the most comfortable attitudes they could find.
"Oh! say, come down out of that, Davy; you make me tired with your everlasting pranks. Take a drop, won't you, please?" called out Bumpus.
Hardly had he spoken than there was a whoop, and Davy landed squarely in the middle of the now smouldering fire, sending the brands to the right and to the left in a hurricane of sparks.
The seven scouts threw themselves backward to avoid contact with the scattered red embers, while Davy scrambled out of his fiery bed with furious alacrity.
"Put me out! somebody give me a rub down the back! I'm on fire!"
Nobody doubted Davy's excited words, as he danced wildly about, slapping first at a smouldering spark on the right leg of his khaki trousers; and then furiously attacking another burning spot on the sleeve of his coat; only to throw his campaign hat down, and jump on it, under the belief that it was threatened with immediate destruction.
Some of the other scouts had managed to scramble to their feet about this time; and seeing that they were not in danger themselves, could afford to lend a hand in order to save the garments of the unlucky Jones boy.
"Now your suit's a fine sight!" ejaculated Step Hen.
"Perfectly dreadful!" remarked Smithy, with a shudder; for to the mind of this member of the patrol, with his ideas of what neatness stood for, no punishment could have exceeded such a catastrophe as the one that had overtaken Davy.
But after finding that his neck had not been dislocated by his fall; and that, while there would be a few holes here and there about his clothes, they were still fairly presentable, Davy only grinned with his customary good nature.
"You certain sure are the limit;" declared Bumpus, surveying the other with a frown on his rosy face. "Better grow a tail, and be done with it. Then you could take your monkey-shines to the woods, where they'd be appreciated."
"Now that's what I call the unkindest cut of all," replied Davy. "I leave it to the crowd if I wasn't only obeyin' orders? Didn't you call out to me to come down? Well, didn't I?"
"Huh! but you needn't a spilt our fire that way," grumbled Bumpus, who however was secretly just as much amused over the affair as any of the rest. "When I say 'come down' you needn't think I mean for you to obey as fast as that. Reckon you must a tried some dodge that wasn't as easy as it looked, and you lost your grip."
"Here's what did it for me," said Davy, stooping, and picking up a piece of broken limb, which Thad remembered seeing fall at the same time the boy scattered the embers of the fire. "Rotten as punk, and went back on me. But don't you believe for a minute because I was hangin' head down right then, I struck that way. Easiest thing in the world to turn a flip-flap in the air. I sat down in that fire; that's why my pants got the worst of the burns. And say, do I limp when I walk, because I'm feeling a little sore?"
"Not much more'n usual," remarked Bumpus, cheerfully.
This ridiculous adventure on the part of Davy set them all to talking again. Of course previous efforts in the same line, and, carried out by the same artist, had to be hauled out of their concealment, and made to do duty again, with sundry additions; for what story can there be but what is strengthened every time it is told?
So many strange things were taking place all around them that it was little wonder the boys declared they did not feel a bit sleepy, even when the patrol leader told them they ought to lie down and get some rest.
"And when everything else fails," declared Step Hen, "why, Davy, here, can always be counted on to furnish music for the band."
"Yes, waltz music," added Giraffe; "anyway, that's what he thought he was giving us, the way he kicked around. P'raps, now, he believed he was doing the turkey trot, all by himself."
But to all these taunts Davy made no response. Truth to tell he seemed to be the sleepiest member of the set, and was seen to yawn numerous times. In this way he managed to start some of the others going, so that by degrees they were all exhibiting evidences of wanting to give up.
Then there came the job of trying to make themselves fairly comfortable. They had considered this matter before, and settled upon plans for the campaign. There would be no cabin roof over their heads on this night, only the branches of the big tree; but since there seemed little likelihood of rain falling, they did not think they would miss this.
It was the bed part that gave them the most trouble. They had scoured the immediate vicinity, and each scout had secured whatever he could lay his hands on in the shape of weeds, or grass, or even small branches from the tree—anything to make the ground seem a bit softer to his body.
One liked this spot, while another had entirely different ideas; but coached by Allan, who knew all about sleeping out without shelter, they one and all kept their feet toward the fire, because that was the part first affected by the cooling night air.
Several of them were already stretched out, for while they had arranged a system of sentry duties, Allan was to take the first spell.
He and Thad stood looking at the actions of the other scouts as they moved their rude beds here and there, striving to find spots where there were no roots sticking up, that would poke into their sides or backs.
"They're a great bunch, all told!" remarked Allan, with a wide smile, as he saw Bumpus slily stealing some of the bed of Step Hen, whose back was toward him, adding it, handfuls at a time, to his own scanty stock.
"The finest ever," added Thad, warmly. "I don't see how we could have improved on this patrol, if we'd searched through Cranford with a fine tooth comb. Every one of them has his failings, just as all of us do; but they're as loyal and happy-go-lucky a lot of boys as ever any one knew. And Allan, I expect we'll have some glorious times ahead of us, if we go up into Maine with you, later on. That hasn't been fully settled yet, you understand; the question of expense has to be met, as well as getting away from our school, if it takes up by the middle of September. But we're all hoping, and pulling for it just as hard as we can."
"Won't it be great now," Allan went on to say, "if Bob does find that paper he thinks Reuben's been keeping all these years, when he hadn't ought to have let it stay unburned a minute? What d'ye suppose makes a smart scamp like that ever do such a silly thing?"
"I couldn't tell you, only I've heard my guardian say more than a few times that the cleverest scoundrel is apt to make a blunder. If that's true then I guess this Reuben made his when he kept that paper, just to look at it once in a while, and shake hands with himself over his cuteness."
"Will you take a little stroll around with me before lying down?" asked Allan, who was to have the first watch.
"Might as well," returned the other, casting a glance over toward the balance of the patrol, still squirming more or less, as they tried to make comfortable nests for themselves. "By that time, perhaps they'll be asleep, and I can drop off without being made to listen to Bumpus' complaining, when Step Hen takes back his stolen goods. Come along, then, Allan."
They first of all walked back along the road in the direction whence they had come to the strange valley where Reuben lived, a half-way station between the secret haunts of the moonshiners, and civilization.
"What's that up yonder; looks to me like a torch moving?" remarked Thad, as he elevated his head, so as to gaze upward, along the face of the mountain.
"It is a torch, right you are," Allan went on to say; "somebody must be picking his way along among those rocks. I'd think he'd sure need a good light on such a black night as this."
"But I guess you're wrong about that," Thad added, quickly; "see, he's waving his light, now back, and again forward, just so many times. There, he gives it a downward flash that must mean the end of a word; and then he goes on."
"Why, to be sure, it's as plain as anything that he's signalling to somebody on the other mountain. Yes, Thad, look there, and you can see another light move in answer to that first one."
"Even that don't seem to be all," remarked the patrol leader, seriously. "Here's a third light back of us; and upon my word I can see a fourth ever so far off."
"Looks like all the moonshiners in the mountains might be out in force, and having a jolly old talk among themselves. Wonder what they find to talk about?" Allan hazarded.
"Chances are ten to one it's us they're discussing," said Thad. "Old Phin like as not, is giving his orders. Thought he grinned a little when I was telling how scouts communicated with each other. He knew all about that, the sly old rascal did; and this has been going on for years and years before Boy Scouts were ever heard of."
"Thad, they're all around us; we're surrounded by these moonshiners, with their handy guns; and if Old Phin says we've got to stay up here in the mountains, why, it's going to be a case of being marooned for us. We don't dare run, because they'd take that for a sure evidence of guilt, and pepper us for all that's out. So, there's nothing to be done but stick it out, seems to me."
"Well, we ought to be satisfied," remarked Thad, grimly. "Marooned or not, it was our intention to stay around here until Bob had settled those two matters of importance that fetched him down this way."
"Sure, I'd pretty nigh forgotten that," declared the Maine boy, more cheerfully. "So let the mountain men shake their blessed old torches at each other all they choose, and tell how the trap is to be made snug as all get-out; we'll just play the innocent, and try to find out what we want to know. Shall we go back to camp now, Thad?"
"Just as you say," returned the other. "Nothing more to see out this way. We know that Old Phin isn't ready to look on us as friends yet. He can't get over the suspicions the sight of our khaki uniforms woke up in his soul. But so far we hadn't ought to complain with the way things have gone. Hope it'll keep on to the end; and that our Bob will get all he aims for, find his daddy, and take the little girl cousin back to Cranford with him."
"And if it all goes to the good, say, p'raps we won't have a feather to stick in our hats, all right, Thad! We'll never get over talking about this thing. But will it go straight; that's the question?"
"You never can tell," replied the other, softly, and encouragingly. "We're going to do our level best; and leave the rest. Good-night, Allan; wake Giraffe at the end of an hour, and caution him to keep a good watch. I come next in line, you know."
With these parting words Thad stepped softly into camp, glanced at the various forms of the scouts stretched in favorite positions, some even lying on their backs; and then with a smile the patrol leader lay down upon the rude bed he had made for himself, out of such material as offered.
In five minutes he was asleep, and forgetful of all the strange events that had marked their strenuous hike into the mountains of the Old North State.