The Boy Scouts in the Blue Ridge Part 13

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 b.u.mpus, 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 b.u.mpus.

"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 moons.h.i.+ner 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 b.u.mpus 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 moons.h.i.+ner 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 moons.h.i.+ner'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.

"h.e.l.lo! 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 pa.s.sed by. From what I heard them say, I knew they were some of the moons.h.i.+ners, 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 b.u.mpus, "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 b.u.mpus.

"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 att.i.tudes 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 b.u.mpus.

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.

CHAPTER XV.

THE FLICKERING TORCH TALK.