The Sugar Creek Gang Goes North

THE SUGAR CREEK GANG GOES NORTH
by PAUL HUTCHENS
Published by Scripture Press BOOK DIVISION 434 South Wabash Ave. Chicago 5, Ill.
The Sugar Creek Gang Goes North
Copyright, 1947, by Paul Hutchens
All rights in this book are reserved. No part may be reproduced in any manner without the permission in writing from the author, except brief quotations used in connection with a review in a magazine or newspaper.
Printed in the United States of America
I GUESS I never did get tired thinking about all the interesting and exciting things which had happened to the Sugar Creek Gang when we’d gone camping far up in the North. One of the happiest memories was of the time when Poetry, who is the barrel-shaped member of our gang, and I were lost out in the forest, and while we were trying to get unlost we met a very cute little brown-faced Indian boy whose name was Snow-in-the-face, and his big Indian brother whose name was Eagle Eye.
Little Snow-in-the-face was really the cutest little Indian boy I had ever seen; in fact, he was the first one I’d ever really seen up real close. I kept thinking about him and wishing that the whole Sugar Creek Gang could go again up into that wonderful country which everybody calls the Paul Bunyan Playground and see how Little Snow-in-the-face was getting along, and how his big brother’s Indian Sunday school was growing, which, as you know, they were having every Sunday in an old railroad coach, which they’d taken out into the forest and fixed up into a church. Say, I never had any idea that we would get to go back so soon, in fact, the very next summer after we’d been there the summer before.
But here I go telling you about how we happened to get to go, and how quick we started, and all the exciting things that happened on the way and after we got there, and especially after we got there. Boy oh boy! it was real fun, and also very exciting—especially that night when we ran kersmack into a kidnapper mystery, and some of us who were mixed up in it were almost half scared half to death. Imagine a very dark night with only moonlight enough to make things look spooky, and queer screaming sounds echoing through the forest and over the lake, and then finding the kidnapped girl all wrapped in an Indian blanket with a handkerchief stuffed into her mouth and—but that’s getting ahead of the story, and I’d better not tell you how it happened until I get to it, ’cause it might spoil the story for you, and I hope you won’t start turning the pages of this book real fast and read the mystery first, ’cause that wouldn’t be fair.... Don’t you dare skip even one page. You just keep reading along until you get there.