The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island Part 11

Thad could not exactly see the forms of those who were waiting for them to come in, but since the focus of light changed from spot to spot he concluded that they were also drawing closer to the sh.o.r.e line, so as to be ready to receive those whom they already counted on as their prisoners.

And, Thad waited, in momentary expectation of hearing some sort of explosion, when the parties realized their mistake. In fact, he was so sure of this that he would not make the slightest effort to draw that shotgun closer to him, though that might have seemed good policy.

Finally the nose of the cruiser came smack up against the rocks with quite a little b.u.mp; and Giraffe, having failed to fend off in time, was almost toppled over, but he managed to clutch hold of b.u.mpus to steady himself, and that was like seizing upon the Rock of Gibraltar, because it would take a derrick to move the stout scout, once he settled down.

So, when for the second time the boat came in contact with the sh.o.r.e, Giraffe was able to give a little leap, painter in hand, and reach land.

Just as he did so, that deep bus voice sprang up again; and this time, as Thad had expected, it told of considerable chagrin and disappointment.

"Well, what's this? Only a bunch of kids, after all, instead of Cranston and his gang of smugglers. The joke's on us, men; it is to laugh!"

CHAPTER XI

THE FAME OF THE SILVER FOX PATROL

"I thought so!" Thad now remarked, showing what confidence he had felt in the decision that their best policy had been to obey orders, and come to the sh.o.r.e.

Several moving figures were now seen, and coming down the rocks toward them. In another minute's time these had resolved themselves into three men. They did not seem to be roughly dressed at all, but might be taken for gentlemen out to have a good time fis.h.i.+ng or cruising.

And the boys noticed, as soon as they could see anything at all, when Thad lighted their camp lantern, that the largest of the trio wore a blue cap such as they had seen on the head of the man who watched their boat through his field-gla.s.ses late that afternoon.

Undoubtedly the black boat had turned back as evening set in, and it must have been some one connected with the party, whom they had seen waving that light from the sh.o.r.e.

"Good evening!" said Allan, pleasantly, as the three men ranged up close by and evidently looked them over; "we've surrendered, you remember.

Now, what are you going to do with six Boy Scouts off for a vacation trip on the lake?"

At that the big man turned to his companions, and laughed. No doubt they felt considerably disappointed, because they had somehow had high hopes of making an important capture; but after the first keen chagrin had pa.s.sed they could enjoy a joke at their own expense.

"You'll have to excuse our bothering you, boys," said he of the ba.s.s voice; "but you see we made a mistake. We're revenue officers, looking for a notorious smuggler named Cranston, who operates around this section. We had positive information that he meant to cross over from Canada in a boat that answered the description of yours to a fraction; and as it's the habit of these smugglers to adopt all sorts of disguises, from honest, hard-working fishermen, to anything else that suits their fancy, we guessed they'd taken to wearing khaki to make us believe they were a party of the militia out for a cruise."

"And so we turned back, and planned this nice little surprise, when we saw that you had come in here," remarked a second man, still chuckling.

"Who are you, anyway, boys?" asked the third, who seemed to have more curiosity than his comrades, though his next words explained the reason for this; "because I've got two st.u.r.dy scouts, in my house, and they've become so much brighter lads since they joined the patrol that I want to tell you I'm interested in the movement wherever I run across it. And when I tell them about this blunder of ours I'd like to mention names, you know."

"Why, we belong to the Silver Fox Patrol of Cranford Troop of Boys Scouts," remarked Allan, promptly; "this is our a.s.sistant scout-master, Thad Brewster, who happens to be the pilot of the trip because Dr.

Philander Hobbs, our real leader, had to hurry back home on business; but we didn't worry a bit when that happened, because, you see, Thad is capable of turning the trick; he knows more in a minute about everything in the woods than Dr. Hobbs could learn in ten years."

"Well, well, tell me about that, will you?" exclaimed the man, with some little excitement; "and which of you might be Allan Hollister--I reckon you're that party right now, youngster; and this stout scout here, surely he must be the b.u.mpus who got into so many bad holes, and yet always managed to crawl out again? Yes, I'm right about that; and let's see, which one might be Giraffe--no need to ask that, when I look around me. Then there was, another they called Step Hen, didn't they, not to mention Davy Jones, Bob White and Smithy? Oh, I know you all, and I want to shake hands with each and every one of you. Say, won't my kids go crazy when they hear that I've actually met up with that lively bunch of scouts."

"W-w-what's all this mean, mister?" asked b.u.mpus, actually trembling, not with fear any longer, but actual delight to hear himself mentioned in this familiar way by a stranger.

"Well, I'll have to confess that I've taken such a deep interest in what my boys are doing," continued the revenue officer, "that I even read every book they brought into the house; and that's how I came to know about the doings of the Silver Fox Patrol, and who the eight lads were const.i.tuting that branch of the scouts. Give me your hand, Mr.

Scout-master; I'm proud to know you, sure I am; and I hope you'll send a written word back home to the two ten-year old twins, who know all about what you fellows have been doing in the Blue Ridge, up in Maine, and even as far away as the Rocky Mountains."

The boys were almost stunned by this remarkable information; but they hastened to accept the hand offered them, and received a hearty squeeze in return.

"My name is Stebbens, and the boys are Daniel and Luther," continued the officer who seemed not quite mind the disappointment of failing to effect an important capture, when the little adventure had give him a story to carry back home to those twins he thought so much of.

"Well all this is mighty interesting, John," said the man with the gruff voice, and who seemed to be the leader of the revenue men; "but we mustn't lose any more time here. The sea is nasty, but our boat can stand it, and we know where tricky Cranston is apt to turn up before morning, not ten miles away; so perhaps we'd better be saying good-night to these lads, and starting out again."

He, as well as the third man, insisted on also shaking hands all around before departing, and with such good will that b.u.mpus was rubbing his fingers for quite some time afterwards, to get the numb feeling out of the same.

But then no one found any fault; in fact they were thrilled by the knowledge that their exploits had been read by other scouts, who cherished a sort of friendly feeling for the members of the Silver Fox Patrol, just from learning about their adventures in a book or so.

They did not feel at all sleepy after the three revenue men had said good-bye, and vanished in the dark night.

"What's the use pus.h.i.+ng out there again, and dropping the mud-hook overboard, when we can tie up so nicely right here?" remarked Step Hen.

"Sure," echoed Giraffe, "and then, in the morning I'll show you I haven't forgotten how to make the finest fire you ever heard tell about.

Oh I some pumpkins about that same game, ain't I, b.u.mpus? You ought to know, because you saw me make one when we was nigh about froze to death up there in Maine, and didn't have a single match along with us."

"Well, anyhow, wait till morning," said Thad, knowing that once the tall scout got started on his favorite hobby, there was no way of stopping him until he had the fever satisfied.

Giraffe had once made up his mind that he could make a fire in the primitive fas.h.i.+on by using a little bow, and a revolving stick. Once this trick is learned and it can usually be accomplished in a minute or two; but most boys find themselves unable to master the feat, and give up in despair after long trying.

The tall scout had persisted even when he met with all manner of discouragements. Sometimes, just when he seemed on the point of success, b.u.mpus would stumble over him, and end the attempt; then an alarm would be sounded when he had gotten his tinder to smoking; and again he lose out. But in the end he had mastered the secret, and ever afterwards it was one of his proudest accomplishments; so that Giraffe always carried that little bow, and some dry tinder along, whenever he left camp, even though it would have been muck easier to put some matches in his pocket.

Of course, as they sat there for a while longer, after the boat had been securely tied up to the sh.o.r.e, the talk was mostly about smugglers.

Each of the boys told all they had ever heard about, such slippery customers; and it added to the interest of the occasion to know that they had just been mistaken for a notorious character, for whom the Government revenue men were on the watch.

"All the same," remarked b.u.mpus, complacently, "I ain't sorry it happened, because you see, only for their mistake we never'd aheard about them twins, Daniel and Luther Stebbens. I'm glad you wrote out that message for 'em, Thad; and after we get back in Cranford I'm meaning to send 'em my picture. Their daddy said they'd like it the worst kind; and come to think of it, I've got a few showing me astanding with my gun acovering them two bad men as had captured me out in the Big Timber, Davy having snapped the picture off on the spot. Mebbe they'll like that!"

He fell to musing over the lively scenes that had accompanied the adventure covered by this episode; and paid no further attention to the rest of the boys, as they continued to exhaust the subject of the smuggler fraternity.

Finally, all of them admitted that they felt sleepy; and since they no longer had reason to experience anything boarding on alarm, it was decided on the whole not to bother keeping watch.

Already the hour must be near midnight, and they needed sleep, so as to be ready to take up duties of another day when morning broke.

Accordingly, each of them was apportioned a place where he could wedge in and in some way manage to obtain the rest of which he was in such need. b.u.mpus, being so round, and requiring much more s.p.a.ce than any one of the six, was given a chance to roll over in the wider territory close to the doors of the hunting cabin, which were not to be closed, as the boys felt they would need air.

He could sit up, and look around, at any time he happened to be awake; but as b.u.mpus was usually a sound sleeper, none of them expected that he would avail himself of this privilege until they scrambled over his bundled-up figure at daylight.

In that cove at the mouth of the little creek it was as quiet and peaceful as any heart could wish. Let the wind and the waves hold high carnival outside, nothing gave promise of disturbing the slumber of the tired cruisers.

An hour, two of them and more, crept by, and everything remained as calm as when the scouts folded their blankets about them like Indian warriors, and squeezed in where they had been apportioned.

The clouds had broken, and the moon was s.h.i.+ning brightly in the sky overhead when b.u.mpus, being awakened by some sort of dream, suddenly sat upright, digging his knuckles into his eyes, as if hardly able to believe that he was not safe and sound in his own bed at home.

A nasty snarl struck his ear, and gave him a shock, so that he instantly found himself wide-awake, and looking around to see what had caused the sound.

What he saw must have aroused the fat scout not a little, for immediately his voice was heard in the land, arousing the balance of the sleepers, and doubtless thrilling them through and through.

"Stop thief! Here, let that alone, I tell you! Wake up everybody, and do something, can't you? He's getting away with my lovely trout, I tell you. Hey! Giraffe, ain't you agoing to save your breakfast?"