The Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour Part 18

Paul also knew that it was perhaps a very unwise move on his part, this chasing so madly after Monkey Eggleston. Of course the fellow had friends not so far away, and the chances were he was even now heading toward the place where Monkey knew they would be waiting to hear his report.

Still Paul would not give up. The fact that he was surely overtaking the other fellow acted as a sort of spur, urging him to continued efforts.

Had the chase seemed hopeless he might have abandoned it after the first spurt; but now he felt that at any moment he was apt to pounce upon the object of his pursuit, who was floundering along just ahead.

Suddenly the noise stopped. Either Monkey had been given a jolt in his last tumble that knocked the breath completely out of his body; or else he was "playing 'possum" in order to deceive his pursuer.

Paul groped his way forward. The trees became more scattered, and what seemed to be a small glade dawned upon his sight.

He had carefully noted the spot where the last sound was heard, and as he strained his eyes now he was able to make out a crouching figure within ten feet of him.

"Ted?" said a quavering voice, "is that you?"

Evidently Monkey was entertaining a little hope that after all it may have been his comrade who had chased after him so persistently. Paul did not reply, but moved swiftly forward. He saw the other make a move as though about to try and resume his flight; but the young scout leader of the Red Fox Patrol did not mean to let so fine a chance slip through his fingers.

He made a quick spring that landed him on the fugitive. With all his strength Paul threw him back to the ground.

"Got you, Monkey!" he exclaimed, triumphantly; "now you'll come back with me to our camp, and explain what sort of meanness you were up to, trying to burn us out!"

The boy underneath seemed to be so badly frightened that he could hardly find his tongue to say a word. He had shown spirit enough when climbing through those trees to enter the hostile camp; yet now that he was held a prisoner his natural cowardice returned. But before Paul could drag him to his feet there was an unexpected interruption to the little affair.

"Hey, boys!" called a voice he recognized as belonging to Ted Slavin, "get a move on you, and surround the wise guy. We've got him in a hole, and it's twenty-three for yours, Paul Morrison! He aint goin' to crawl out of this pickle, if we know it. Jump him, fellers!"

CHAPTER XV

LEFT IN THE LURCH

"You don't say so, Ted?" sang out Paul.

He knew that he was facing trouble, and that in an instant as it were, the conditions had entirely changed. From being the pursuer he now found himself with the shoe on the other foot. All the same, Paul was not at all daunted. He had encountered these fellows too many times in the past to fear them now.

It was a question whether Monkey had intentionally led him into a set trap, or his coming upon the balance of the crowd might be looked on as an accident. Paul, remembering how the other had called out, under the impression that the one chasing after him might be his chief, had his own opinion.

But this was no time for thinking it over. He could hear sounds as though several fellows were pus.h.i.+ng forward, spreading out as if to try and surround him. Plainly then, he had better be moving, unless he cared to let the Slavin crowd get hold of him.

Paul sprang away. He knew about how the ground lay. Catch as bright a chap as this young scout rus.h.i.+ng wildly through the open woods without getting some idea as to the direction in which he was heading. He turned back over the course he had so lately covered.

"He's gone, Ted!" whooped a voice; but it was not that of Monkey Eggleston; for that worthy was hardly in possession of enough breath to more than whisper.

"After him then, every feller! We oughter get him after such a bully chance. Go it for all you're worth, d'ye hear, Scissors, Bud, and Pete!"

But as for himself, Ted did not do much running. What was the use, when he had followers able and willing to obey the crook of his little finger? Besides, Ted knew what it meant to bang up against a tree in the dark, and knock the skin off one's nose. As long as the sound of pursuit could be plainly heard he continued to bellow out his orders, as though hoping to spur his followers on to success.

Paul had little fear. Once again his keen sight was apt to play him a good turn; for he could avoid contact with obstacles that caught the others napping. He even laughed more than once when he heard a crash, and accompanying groans, from some point in his rear.

"Good boy!" Paul said to himself, when the voice of Scissors was heard, lamenting the fact that a young chestnut seemed to have a harder surface than his forehead boasted; "just keep on some more, and you'll be the worst banged-up bunch Stanhope ever knew," and he could not keep from chuckling again as in his imagination he saw the sorry picture of the three pursuers when they returned to hand in their report, with a list of their bruises.

Evidently the hot pursuit must have come to an end with that last collision on the part of Scissors. Paul, listening, could hear voices, as though the boys were condoling with one another; but there was no longer the sound of footsteps.

After that there was no need of haste, and having figured out just where he was, Paul presently found the road. Of course all he had to do now was to walk along this, and in another minute he caught sight of a bright light ahead.

He knew the boys must have started the several fires that had been laid for an emergency. They were doubtless more or less worried about his continued absence; but did not know which way to start the search.

So Paul, to relieve their anxiety, sent out a call that would reach their ears and tell them that he was coming. And presently he walked up to the fire, where he was immediately surrounded by the excited scouts, all clamoring to know what he had discovered.

"First tell me what Monkey Eggleston threw into the fire, that made such a flash," Paul insisted, turning to Wallace.

The other held something up. It seemed to be a tin box, with a string attached.

"What's all this?" asked Paul, and then, as he took it in his hands, he gave a cry of astonishment, adding: "why, I declare, if it doesn't look a little like one of those bombs you read about. And this is supposed to be the fuse, isn't it? Well, those fellows are getting along pretty swiftly when they try to blow up our supplies."

Of course the "bomb" was not such a dreadful affair. True enough, the tin box contained quite a quant.i.ty of powder, but it was a question as to whether the explosion would have done very much damage, even had it occurred.

No doubt it might have scattered things somewhat, and possibly a fire would have resulted, unless prompt measures were taken to stamp the sparks underfoot. What astonished the young scout leader, however, was the strange method of introducing the fake bomb among the supplies, and leading the end of the slow match to the smouldering fire.

"What won't they try next?" said Jack, looking serious, as he took the contrivance once more in his hands.

"Goodness knows," remarked Wallace; "but tell us about your adventure, Paul. We heard an awful shouting in the woods over yonder, and some of the boys wanted to start out hunting for you, but the racket stopped just then. Besides, Jack said that he believed you were getting the best of it."

"Do you know why I said that?" interrupted Jack; "well, you see, I knew it was those fellows doing the hollering, and they sounded as if they were mad; so I made up my mind they wouldn't yelp _that_ way if they had their hands on Paul."

"Which was clever reasoning, Jack," declared his chum, instantly. "You had your wits about you that time. I'm glad the whole camp didn't take to rus.h.i.+ng through the woods, chasing a jack-o'-lantern. What a jolly time we'd have had rounding up the bunch again. Now, sit down, and I'll tell you just what happened."

It was laughable to see how the eyes of some of the scouts seemed to almost stick out of their heads when they listened to how Paul first discovered the moving object up in the big oak. They turned their heads, and looked up eagerly, as though half expecting to see another monkey-like form hanging from a limb.

So the story was soon told. Many were the exclamations of wonder after the end had been reached. A mult.i.tude of questions poured in on Paul; but he shook his head, saying:

"Keep those for to-morrow, fellows. What we want now is to repair our fences, and get some sleep. But you can see how important it is that every scout placed on guard keep his eyes and ears open, ready to give warning in case the enemy try their tricks on us."

He did not reproach the two boys who had been on duty at the time he and Wallace held forth, though strongly suspecting that they must have been asleep. But what he said caused more than one cheek to flush; and doubtless a number of lads inwardly resolved that from henceforth they would never, never allow themselves to slacken their vigilance when on post.

Nothing more was heard from the Slavin crowd on that night. Paul could easily guess why; for in imagination he saw the faces of Monkey Eggleston, Scissors, Bud and possibly several others, decorated with strips of court plaster, intended to hide the results of their tree-hugging adventures.

He only hoped that the lesson would be taken to heart, and cause those trouble-makers to avoid the camps of the scouts in the future; but knowing the nature of both Ted and Ward, he did not have much expectation that way.

Bobolink had them all up at dawn with the reveille call upon his beloved bugle. This never left his side, and some of the boys jokingly declared that he cuddled it in his arms while he slept, for fear lest some prank-loving scout hide it away, just to tease him.

The cooks got busy, and presently there was a delicious odor of coffee around that region, together with that of frying bacon.

William was master of ceremonies when it came time to start operations looking to a supply of flapjacks. He had willing imitators in the cooks of the other two patrols; and while they may not have met with the same glorious success that attended his own efforts, the results were so pleasing to the still hungry scouts that every sc.r.a.p of batter prepared was used up. Even then there were lamentations because of a shortage in the supply of pancakes.

There was no hurry to get off. Paul was too wise a commander to spoil the pleasure of his comrades by unseemly haste, with so much time before them.

About nine o'clock the command started forth, with Bluff's drum beating time, and the inspiring notes of the bugle lending vigor to their eager feet. By noon some of those who had seemed most chipper at the beginning of the day's tramp were limping more or less, though still full of grit, and a determination not to lag behind.