At Whispering Pine Lodge - Lawrence J. Leslie
In the midst of the fracas, loud shouts close at hand told that Steve
and Bandy-legs, having heard the row, were rushing hurriedly to the
spot, astonished beyond measure at the racket.
The man must have heard their cries, and the fact that his enemies were
about to receive reinforcements seemed to give him the strength of
desperation, for he suddenly tore himself free from Max, leaving his
coat in the hands of the boy.
"Oh! he's gone!" gasped Obed, almost entirely out of breath because of
his recent tremendous exertions.
For a fact, the man had vanished almost as though the ground had opened
and swallowed him up. Even astute Max hardly knew which way to look for
him. Then came the other pair rushing up, and demanding to know what all
the row was about.
As soon as he could recover his breath, Max tried to explain. He had to
repeat it twice, however, before Bandy-legs could grasp the astounding
fact that some one had actually been carrying on a telegraphic
conversation with their prisoner, tapping on the wall of the cabin to
spell out the words.
"Say, you're stringing us, I expect, boys!" exploded the doubter; "it
sounds just like a fairy story to me. But then there _was_ some one
here, because we glimpsed him disappearing like a falling star. I wanted
to give him a shot, but I remembered what Max here said about shooting
when in doubt; and we didn't just know but what it might be one of you."
"But, Max, he got away after all!" continued the disappointed Obed, as
though to his mind that event overshadowed all others; "and I did want
to find out if it was any one I knew. I believe it was, on my soul, for
at college he always had the reputation of being an all-round athlete."
"Huh!" grunted Toby, rubbing his head ruefully as he came up, and
limping in the bargain, "t-t-that was him, all r-r-right then, Obed. I
don't know the f-f-fellow's n-n-name, but I've g-g-got his trade-mark on
my c-c-cheek, every k-k-knuckle of his fist. Huh! he's an athlete, every
time!"
"But don't tell me our prisoner skipped out!" cried Steve, in sore
dismay.
"Not that we know of, unless he's gone since we dashed from the cabin,"
Max informed him. "And as we can't accomplish anything standing here,
suppose we adjourn to the inside again. Toby will want a little
soothing salve on his bruises; and I've got a sore hand myself, where I
struck him harder than I meant to on the back of his head."
"It's too bad, too bad!" mourned Obed, following the others toward the
open door. "Such a splendid chance may not come again; and I'd like to
know, I certainly would."
When they entered the cabin, the first thing all of them did was to look
eagerly to see if the man still lay there, Upon finding that he had not
tried to escape during all the excitement, possibly being afraid he be
fired on, they felt relieved.
"Anyhow, we've still got him safe and sound," declared Steve,
exultantly.
"And he may make up his mind to tell yet," remarked Obed, picking up
fresh hope, "when he finds that I mean all I said, and that he's on the
road to prison."
The man glowered at them, though apparently he seemed fairly well
pleased to find that they had not succeeded in capturing his ally. Max
awaited developments. He was satisfied with the way things were going,
and deep down in his heart believed the thrilling announcement he was
storing up with which to startle his three chums would not now be long
delayed.
"I s'pose we ought to go out again, and resume our watch," suggested
Steve, after a short time had elapsed. "It's too soon for a change; and
after all that excitement none of us feel a bit sleepy."
"As for me," ventured Bandy-legs, "I'm that wide awake I feel as if I
never could go to sleep again while we're up here in the mountains,
where such queer things keep on happening right along."
"S-s-say, I'm s-s-sorry for Obed," ventured Toby, who it seems had heard
the lament of the woods boy, and could sympathize with him. "He had
h-h-hoped to g-g-get a pointer by g-g-grabbing that streak of
g-g-greased lightning; but after all, the fellow was too much for the
whole b-b-bunch of us."
"But it's made me feel pretty sure now," said Obed brightening up
perceptibly, "that I know who's to blame for all this trouble. I had a
hint about it before, you remember I told you, boys; and while he kept
his face hidden pretty much all the time he fought, I surely heard him
say something that struck me as familiar. He wasn't a stranger, I'm
certain of that."
"Well," said Max, quietly, "perhaps there may be a way to prove that."
"Please tell me how, Max!" pleaded Obed, eagerly.
"The mysterious stranger managed to get away," chuckled the other, "but
he wasn't so clever about taking all his wardrobe along with him, you
remember."
"Oh! his coat!" cried Obed, in thrilling accents.
"I hung on to that like a leech," now laughed Max. "Of course I should
have been smart enough to keep my fingers on the man inside, but he had
a slick way of just slipping out of the coat. First thing I knew he was
gone, leaving me holding the bag, as they say. Want to take a look at
that article, don't you, Obed? Sometimes men have a fashion of keeping
letters and documents in their coat pockets; and between us I believe
you'll find something like that here."
With these words, the speaker took up the coat he had torn from the back
of the unknown, and tossed it carelessly toward Obed.
The woods boy snatched at the garment eagerly. Newly aroused hope could
be seen upon his face. Everybody watched to see what the outcome might
turn out to be. Steve and Bandy-legs, ready to withdraw from the circle,
and resume their outside vigil, stayed their departure for a brief
period in order to satisfy their curiosity. Even the so-called Jake
Storms had his fishy eyes fixed on Obed, as though it mattered something
to him whether the latter learned the answer to the conundrum, or was
obliged to let it pass by unsolved.
So Obed upon receiving the coat, proceeded to ram an eager hand into the
pockets, one after another. When he reached an inside one, he found a
bonanza, just as Max had anticipated. There were some papers there, as
well as a bill book. Bending down nearer the fire, so that he might the
better see, Obed glued his eyes on his find. A few seconds passed. The
fire crackled as it began to eat into the fresh fuel that had been
tossed to the red embers upon the incoming of the party. Toby grunted
once or twice, and continued to ruefully rub the side of his head, his
right arm, one of his thighs, and, in fact, as much of his entire person
as he could conveniently cover in a short space of time.
Then Obed was heard to give a low exclamation. His whole manner was a
singular mixture of satisfaction and anger. Evidently, he had
accomplished his set purpose, and the result had aroused conflicting
emotions within his breast.
"Well, have you found out who the man is, Obed?" asked Steve, unable to
curb his burning curiosity.
"Yes, there's no longer any question about it," returned the other,
bitterly, "for here are letters addressed to him. I may even take the
privilege of reading them tomorrow, for in that way I can perhaps
discover some evidence that will force him to stop this ugly business.
Oh! the meanness of Robert to strike this cowardly blow at me, his own
cousin! He's a disgrace to the whole family."
"Pity the poor Grimeses!" exclaimed Max, looking straight at Obed, with
such a queer expression on his face that presently the woods boy could
not keep from bursting into a laugh.
"Max, you're on to me; I can see!" he cried, rushing up to the other and
holding out his hand eagerly. "I've guessed for some time that you had
your suspicions, and now I know it's so."
And Max, too, threw back his head to indulge in a good laugh; while
Steve, Toby and Bandy-legs, with months agape, and eyes that were as
round as saucers, simply gathered around' and stared at the two who were
shaking hands.
"Hey! what's all this about, I want to know?" spluttered Steve; just as
though he meant to say that no one had any business to have secrets from
the rest; "looky here, Obed, since when did you forget that Grimes woods
lingo you've been giving us right along! I'm beginning to smell a rat,
that's what I am!"
CHAPTER XIV
A BIG SURPRISE
Evidently, Steve was commencing to get on the scent of the explanation
of the mystery; but as for Toby and Bandy-legs, they found themselves up
against a blank wall, for aught they could see.
Instead of trying to explain, Obed turned to Max, saying meekly:
"You tell them, please, Wax; it's only your due, after solving the
puzzle as nearly as you have. I saw you turn back to that book again,
and scan my initials in the front. That was why you asked me If Mr.
Coombs' first name had been Robert, when it was not. But it's all right,
and I'm satisfied I had my peek of fun out of it, let me tell you. Now
introduce me to your chums, Max."
"With the greatest of pleasure," laughed the other, as he took hold of
Obed, and waving in a ceremonious fashion with the other hand, he
continued: "Friends, Toby and Bandy-legs, allow me to present some one
to you whom you'll be delighted to know--_this is Roland Chase_!"
Bandy-legs stood as if riveted to the spot, staring, and holding his
very breath through astonishment. Toby Jucklin wanted to express his
amazement, and also his ecstatic delight, over the wonderful outcome of
their mission; but alack and alas! as so often happened with Toby,
while the spirit was willing the flesh was lamentably weak, and he could
not make a sound except a sort of spluttering gasp, while his eyes
blinked, and his face grew rosy red.
Still laughing, the so-called Grimes' boy proceeded to grip hands with
his guests. He acted as though it might be a simon-pure introduction; as
it certainly was, in one sense.
"I'm ashamed of the way I bamboozled you fine fellows, and that's the
honest truth," he started to say. But on the impulse of the moment I
thought of that Obed Grimes name; and once I gave it to you I had to
follow up with the lingo. I guess I got balled up more than once, for
Max soon discovered that I didn't always speak as a true Grimes should,
and that gave him his clue. Yes, I'm the same Roland you started out to
find, just to please my dear old aunt, bless her heart. I was planning
to surprise them all by appearing in town with my five thousand dollars,
after I'd sold the fox cubs, and then claiming my share of uncle's
estate. I guess it's all getting plain enough to you now, eh, fellows?
Bandy-legs could speak at last.
"Why, it's as plain as the nose on my face, Obed--I beg pardon, Roland;
and I can never forgive myself for being so easily taken in and done
for. So you thought to invest your two thousand dollars in starting a
silver-black fox farm, did you? Well, it was a daring venture, and I
hardly think you would have made the game if you hadn't been lucky
enough to meet up with that splendid Mr. Coombs."
"That's a certainty, Bandy-legs," admitted the other, who apparently was
not at all given to boasting over his achievements; "yes, I was in great
luck to be able to do Mr. Coombs a favor, and win him for a friend. See
what he's done for me. But all the same, I invested my money in this
business, and according to our partnership agreement, I am to have
one-half the proceeds of any sales, so there can be no slip of the law,
to beat me out of my inheritance; if only I can get those precious pups
to the man who's engaged them."
"And this rascal you called Robert--is he the elder cousin who would
profit by your failure to win out?' asked Max, although he already
understood that this must be true."
The expressive face of their new friend clouded immediately.
"I'm sorry to say that it's so, Max," he admitted. "Those envelopes of
the letters I found in his coat gave it away. The temptation was too
great for Robert, who always showed considerable jealousy, because our
uncle rather favored me. And so when he learned in some fashion, I'm
sure I don't know how, that I was in a fair way of carrying out the
provisions of uncle's will, he must have determined to try and spoil my
plans."
"Oh! the cur!" snapped the indignant Steve, now seeing the depravity of
the miserable plotter in full. "I'm glad that some of you managed to
give him a few good licks before he broke away. And I'll regret it to
the last day of my life that I didn't get a chance to show him."
"And b-b-believe me!" exclaimed Toby, with a violent effort, "he's going
to carry the scratches I g-g-gave him on his f-f-face for a w-w-while.
If I'd known that he was Roland's c-c-cousin I'd have dug a h-h-heap
d-d-deeper, too!"
"I'm only hoping," Roland, as we must call him after this, since he
dropped the Grimes family when he admitted his identity, said, "this
will teach him a lesson, and that he'll leave me alone from now on. But
Robert is a terribly persistent fellow, and I'm afraid his failure may
only spur him on to trying again."
"Never mind, Roland," said Steve, dwelling almost affectionately on the
name, now that he knew the one who claimed it, "we're going to stand
back of you through thick and thin. If those fox pups don't eventually
get to their prospective purchaser, we'll have to know the reason why.
Isn't that so, fellows?"
"My sentiments exactly," said Max, promptly.
"Me, too!" exclaimed Toby.
"Ditto here!" added Bandy-legs.
"I want to say this," observed Roland with a suspicious moisture in his
fine eyes, "it was the luckiest hour of my life when I ran across this
bunch of royal good fellows. Why, only for you I'd as like as not have
been _ruined_; because alone and single-handed I never could have stood
out against two clever and unscrupulous schemers. And I'll never forget
it as long as I draw breath."
"There'll be some people mighty sorry, though, I bet you," Bandy-legs
hastened to add, as he looked roguishly at Roland; "by which I mean
those poor Grimeses, who have lost tonight the brightest star in the
whole big Grimes constellation. Why, I can just picture how they'll all
mourn--Uncle Hiram, Uncle Silas, Uncle Nicodemus, and all those other
uncles and aunts, with old Granddaddy Grimes weeping harder than any of
the rest over the bereavement; for Obed is no longer in the flesh!"
The comical way in which Bandy-legs said this caused a general laugh;
why, even the wondering prisoner on the floor, who, of course, could
hardly understand the joke, had to grin at the humorous expression on
the boy's face.
"Oh! I guess they'll be able to stand it, if I can," ventured Roland,
"Please don't bear me any malice, fellows, for having my little joke.
You see I used to be quite a hand for such things; but living all alone
up here didn't give me much of an opportunity to try any pranks; and so
I was just aching for a turn. It didn't do any harm, and afforded me
some fun, so please forget it."
"But, Roland, none of that story you told us about your good friend, Mr.
Coombs, was made up, of course?" asked Steve.
"That was every word of it true," came the quick answer. "Oh! he was
the finest old gentleman you ever heard about. I grew very fond of him;
and when I received word in a letter from his housekeeper that he had
died, shortly after his wife went, it broke me all up. I moped around
here for a whole week, and came near throwing the entire job up. Then I
remembered how he had always put such confidence in everything I
attempted; and so I just shut my teeth tighter together, and said I'd go
through with it or know the reason why. And I have, for I'm on the point
of success; if only that Robert doesn't upset the fat in the fire at the
last hour."
"Well, he won't, you can just depend on that," said Bandy-legs, almost
fiercely. "Here are four standbys who are booked to gather around, and
see that you get the fox pups to market. Next time Robert comes where he
isn't wanted, he may get a broken head, or something just as bad; for
now we know his ugly game, we're not apt to be over particular how hard
we hit."
All of which must have been very comforting to the boy who had taken
such a big load upon his young shoulders, in the effort to show what he
was made of. After all, perhaps the eccentric uncle who left such a
strange provision in his will knew human nature better than most people
do; for he had picked out the very thing calculated to spur a chap like
Roland to do his best.
"Well," remarked Max, "since we've cast off the numerous Grimes tribe,
and discovered the one we were in search of, and as the hour is getting
fearfully late, suppose we postpone further talk until morning. There
remain a few hours to be utilized in sleep. Steve, you and Bandy-legs
haven't filled out your time as sentries yet; suppose you hold for
another hour, and then turn it over to me."
"Just as you say, Max," replied the other. "I meant to propose that
anyway, for the alarm broke out in the middle of our watch. Secretly,
I'd like Mr. Robert to take his courage in both fists and sneak back
this way, bent on further mischief. Do you ask me why! Well, I'd delight
to make use of my scatter-gun, and let him have a mess of number ten
shot at, say sixty yards. They'd pepper him good and plenty at that
distance, without actually endangering his miserable life."
Max, knowing the energetic nature of the speaker, warned him against
being too prompt at using his gun.
"Better go slow about that, Steve," he remarked. "Many a fellow has been
shot by mistake. Every season dozens fall victims to hunters who see
something moving, and blaze away recklessly. It might be one of us, for
all you'd know. So don't think of firing without giving our signal."
Steve solemnly promised to remember. He knew the danger of handling
firearms in a reckless fashion, and was not likely to offend. So
presently, with Bandy-legs in tow, he went forth to resume their
interrupted vigil.
Max and Roland sat there by the resurrected fire for a short time
exchanging remarks. The prisoner lay on the floor and, as far as they
could tell, seemed to have given up all hope of a rescue, for his heavy
breathing was that of one whom sleep had overtaken.
Finally, Max pointed toward Toby, who could be seen lying on his back in
his bunk, and evidently enjoying a fine time in dreamland.
"We'd do well to imitate his example, Roland," he remarked. "And as a
last word I want to tell you again how delighted we all are over finding
you; not only that, but discovering that you've been busy all these
months. Your aunt is worrying her head off about you. The last words she
said were: 'If only you do find, the boy, and he's made a mess of his
attempt to win his inheritance, tell him Aunt Sarah has a place in her
heart for him, and that if only he'll come back he can be her boy for
keeps, because I find that I've grown to love him as my own.'"
Roland appeared to be deeply affected when he heard this, for he winked
violently a good many times, and then, smiling, managed to say:
"You don't know how happy you make me when you tell that, Max; for she's
a dear old soul, and I certainly do care for her a great deal. But it
pleases me also to know I've made good, and that I can hold up my head
when I show those trustees what I've done. The Chase family needn't
blush just yet on account of Roland, though it ought to for Robert's
mean actions."
So they, too, sought their beds, such as these were, and tried to forget
all else in sweet sleep.
Max had a peculiar habit. Almost any boy can acquire it through much
practice, and sometimes it comes in very handy. He was able to impress
it upon his mind that he wanted to awaken at about a certain time. Once
in a long while this might fail him; but nine times out of ten he could
hit it in a most surprising manner. Many persons have proved this
perfectly feasible; and although Max began it as an experiment of the
control of mind over matter, it had long since passed that stage, and
become a regular habit with him.
Accordingly, in just an hour after Steve and Bandy-legs had gone forth
again, Max was out of his bunk, and arousing Toby, who got up rather
loth to abandon his good bed and pleasant dreams. Still, he made no
complaint, unless his frequent yawns could be counted as such, but
trotted at the heels of Max when the other started forth.
The night remained calm. High overhead the gentle breeze still sighed
among the pines, and whispered secrets as it passed through the fragrant
green needles with their attendant cones.
Max took a single glance aloft at the star-studded heavens, and this
told him pretty close on the hour; for in addition to many other ways of
the forest nomad and believer in woodcraft, Max had mastered the
positions of the planets, so that it was always possible for him to
gauge the passage of time when the night granted him a survey of the
constellations above.
When he and Bandy-legs had advanced a certain distance Max stopped and
imitated the call of a screech-owl, so like the whinny of a horse. It
ended up with a peculiar twist, and it was this that would tell any of
the other fellows the sound was intended for a signal, and did not
proceed from the real bird itself.
An answer quickly came. Then a couple of dim forms hove in sight, being
Steve and his fellow vidette, ready to hand over the guns to their
successors, and seek the shelter of the cabin for a little rest.
"Listen, Max," said Steve, while this exchange was taking place,
"there's something queer out yonder aways; and I want you to try and
make out what it can mean."
"How is that?" demanded the other.
"Why, every little while we thought we could hear a distant strange cry
like somebody in pain. Of course it might come from a night-bird that we
don't happen to be acquainted with; but it's been worrying us a heap.
I'm afraid, though, the wind has shifted latterly, because we didn't
seem to catch it so well."
Max hardly knew what to think of what Steve had told him; nevertheless,
he promised the other he and Toby would listen for all they were worth,
and see if they might have any better success in recognizing the strange
sounds.
But the minutes drifted along, and at no time were they able to catch
anything out of the common; so, finally, they decided that either it
must have been a night-bird that had flown away, or else that change in
the wind had kept the sounds from coming to their ears.
CHAPTER XV
STEVE'S DREAM COMES TRUE
"Did you hear anything, Max?"
That was the very first thing Steve asked on the following morning, when
he poked his head out of his "hole in the wall" like a shrewd old
tortoise looking around to learn if the coast were clear.
"We listened from time to time," explained Max, "but were never sure
that we heard any strange sound. It seems that you must have been
impressed with it considerably, Steve, to have it on your mind so?"
"I was, Max, and I am right now," admitted the other, frankly. "Listen
to me, while the rest are busy getting breakfast ready over at the
fire,", and his voice sank to a confidential whisper. "I had a dream. It
wasn't so queer that it should come to me, after all that's happened. I
dreamed that we came on that bad cousin of Roland's, Robert Chase. He'd
fallen over a precipice, and was dying there on the rocks. Oh! it was
horribly real, Max, and I woke up shivering. He was sorry, too, because
he had been so wicked, and was asking Roland to please forgive him. And,
Max, I've been wondering whether that dream mightn't have come to me to
let us know we might do a good deed if we walked out that way this
morning, you and me, saying nothing to the rest of the boys."
Max was struck by the thought that Steve must have had a pretty vivid
dream to make him so tender-hearted. At the same time, he felt in accord
with the sentiments so aptly expressed by the other.
"Steve, I'll go you there," he hastened to say. "It can do no harm, and
may be a fine thing. Are you sure you know the direction fairly well?"
"Yes, because I was sharp enough to make a note of it last night, Max.
You see, at the time the wind was coming in a lazy sort of way right out
of the west. Later on it swung around to the northwest, which makes it
so sharp this morning."
"Good for you, Steve," the other told him. "Then we'll head direct into
the west, and cover the ground for, say a mile, coming back over another
route. We can call out now and then, so if any one heard us they might
answer. But you'd better hurry and get your duds on, because, unless I'm
mistaken, Bandy-legs is meaning to sing out that breakfast's ready. And
you know the last to the feast is penalized when the supply runs short."
"No danger of that happening when Bandy-legs has anything to do with the
cooking," chuckled Steve, confidently; which remark proved how well
those four chums knew one another's weak points.
Of course at breakfast most of the conversation had to do with Roland
and his valiant attempt to "make good." He told his new friends many
things that interested them exceedingly, and which were connected with
his struggle. Their questions also brought them quite a fund of
information concerning the habits of foxes, and how those who aim to
raise the valuable animals for the great London fur market, go about the
business.