DRAWING STRAWS FOR A CHANCE.
At any rate Bumpus was manly enough to do the right thing. He walked straight up to Step-hen, and held out his hand.
"I was a fool, and that's all there is about it, Step-hen," he said, frankly. "Will you shake hands with me, and excuse the blunder I made when I felt sure you had hooked the old bag, just to bother me?"
"Sure I will, Bumpus," said the other, gripping the fat hand extended so confidingly toward him, and giving it a squeeze that brought tears to the eyes of poor Bumpus. "And after all, I don't hardly blame you for thinking I had a hand in gettin' away with the bag; because, you know, I've wanted to look through it this long time. Don't you think you might let me have it now, Bumpus?"
"But I tell you I haven't got anything that belongs to you, Step-hen, and you ought to believe me," protested the fat boy, firmly.
Step-hen looked at him queerly, as though he might be still a little undecided. Then with a sigh he turned away; and Bumpus knew that he had not been convinced.
"Here, you c'n tumble out everything I've got in the haversack, if you want to, Step-hen," added the other, giving in finally.
"Never mind, I take your word it ain't there," said the other, over his shoulder; but somehow Bumpus knew that the feeling of suspicion was only "scotched," not killed; and that Step-hen fancied that he, Bumpus, had only changed the hiding-place of the lost compass.
Thad had considerable to think about as he sat there, looking into the fire, and listening to the talk that was going the rounds. His mind was fixed upon the mystery that seemed to be hovering over the island; and in various ways he found himself trying to connect the coming of the two men and the bear, with the presence of those tracks across on the wooded territory beyond the water.
He even got up, and went across to the other side of the fire, to stoop down and examine the plain footprints left by their late guest. Then he shook his head as though the result failed to tell him what he sought.
To make absolutely sure, he took a pine knot that had been thrust into the fire; and using this as a torch, made his way to the tree where the bear had been chained ever since coming among them.
It was no great task to discover the imprint made by the heavy shoes worn by the Russian. They were marked all around by hobnails such as are used by the lower classes across the water, in order to save the leather soles, for leather costs more money than a few nails.
Apparently Thad found little satisfaction in his labors, for he was frowning when he returned to the circle.
"Not the same parties, eh, Thad?" asked Davy, who had kept a wondering eye on the movements of the young scout-master, and could give a shrewd guess as to the reason for his action, as well as the disappointing result.
"I'm dead sure of that," replied Thad.
"Different shoes make different trails, eh?" went on Davy.
"Oh!" Thad replied quietly, but conclusively; "that spluttering foreigner has hobnails in his soles; and I saw none like that over on the island. And this other man wears a shoe with a square toe; but pretty good material in it. There was no print like that either."
"Well, then, that proves them innocent, don't it?" asked Smithy. "For my part now, fellows, I rather took to that man who sat here, and drank his coffee. He's no hobo, I give you my word. His hands may look soiled, but under it all they're decent enough to belong to a gentleman."
"Hey! listen to Smithy, would you?" exclaimed Step-hen, as if surprised. "Now, I never knew he had such a way of figgering out things. If he keeps on like that, he'll leave us all in the lurch, fellers."
"To tell the truth," admitted the other, smilingly; "time was when I wouldn't have thought of noticing a single thing about such a man; but you see, I've been studying up the rules and suggestions our scout-master loaned me, and it keeps on telling greenhorns and tenderfeet to always be on the lookout, so as to remember what they see. And when he sat there, I just thought it would be a fine chance to make a mental note of anything queer about him I could detect."
"Good for you, Number Five," said Thad, warmly. "I said you were going to make your mark yet, once you got into the fever of things; and already you're proving a credit to the Silver Fox Patrol."
"Then you saw the same things, did you, Thad?" asked Smithy, eagerly, and with a really happy look on his delicate face; because this practice of "doing things" was a new experience for him, and success made him feel proud indeed.
"Partly so; though you went me one better when you made out that his hands were white under the grime," answered the scout-master.
"That sounds like you think he took on all that dirt on purpose?" remarked Bumpus.
"Perhaps he did," replied Thad; "perhaps the man is playing some sort of part, for a reason of his own."
"Bunking with an ignorant foreigner just to get a chance to sneak into camps, and run off with the haversacks that have been carelessly left lying around loose?" suggested Step-hen, still harping on his wrongs.
"Well, I don't agree with you there, Step-hen," remarked Allan. "Like Smithy here, I found something about that man that interested me. If asked me point-blank now, possibly I couldn't tell you what it was that attracted me—his eyes, his smile, or his whole manner. But I'd be badly mistaken if he would turn out to be a rascal."
"And I say the same," observed Thad, vigorously.
"Oh! well, you fellows may be right," remarked Giraffe; "but to my mind there's something mighty suspicious about the way they came snooping around here. Reckon that party might know more about how certain kinds of wild game find their way to the New York hotels in the close season, than he'd like to own up to. And I tell you right now what I mean to do."
"Go on, we all want to know," urged Thad.
"While I'm up here," Giraffe continued, loftily, "I expect to keep my eyes open to find evidences of traps and snares set in the woods to catch partridges, rabbits and the like. And some time, if anybody wants to paddle for me, I'm agoin' to go all the way around this here lake, lookin' for nets, set to haul in the game bass."
"You ought to be wearing the badge of a game warden, Giraffe," declared Davy, with a mock bow in the direction of the speaker; "but they'd have to watch you right smart now, because some of that game would go to keep you from starving."
They continued to talk until a late hour, and every boy was given a chance to air his opinion. Still, no wonderfully new ideas seemed to be in evidence; and when the patrol sought the blankets, leaving the camp-fire dying down, they were about evenly divided on the question as to whether the educated tramp keeping company with the foreign owner of the bear was a smart man, or just a scamp.
But a night of peace followed all these thrills. The skies above showed no sign of storm; and from the neighboring forest there issued no more bears, or any other savage beast, to raid the camp, and produce another mad scamper of the scouts to places of refuge among the branches of the friendly trees.
Once or twice Allan came out to take a look around. It seems to be the habit of all old campers to do this, whenever they happen to awaken; not that he suspected that there would be any peril hovering around; but then possibly the fire might have worked its way through a line of dead grass, and threaten to extend; or it perhaps needed another small log to keep the blaze going, and ward off the chill of night.
Over the water came a weird cry at the time Allan last performed this vigil; and the Maine boy smiled as he listened for a repetition; because it was a familiar sound in his ears, and reminded him of his former home further north.
"Was that a loon, Allan," asked a quiet voice near him; and turning, the Maine boy saw the acting scout-master poking his head out from under the canvas of the second tent.
"Just what it was, Thad," replied the other, when the last speaker crawled out to join him; "I think he must have just dropped down here, for I heard a splash before he gave tongue; and we know there wasn't any such bird around up to sunset. If any of the others wake up and hear that cry, they'll think it's the ghost of the island, sure."
As it was too cool to sit around with such a scanty amount of clothes on, both scouts soon vanished again. The fish were jumping as on the previous night; and in the eastern sky the battered old moon had thrust her remnant of a circle above the horizon for a little peep at the world below.
Morning came along in due time, and of course the usual swim was first in order. Giraffe was apparently in high spirits. The others saw him taking stock of what stores they had left, and evidently the big eater found that there would be an abundance to see them through. That sort of thing always pleased Giraffe. He was gloomy only when he feared for the worst; and in his mind that consisted of short rations.
After breakfast the question came up as to which one of the other scouts Thad was to take with him. As he had stated he would do, in order to be quite fair, and keep the others from feeling that any favoritism had been shown, Thad took a number of short blades of grass, each of a different length. These he mixed up in his hand, so that no one could know which was the long, and which the short ones. Then he invited the boys with the exception of the second in command, Allan, to draw as they pleased, the shortest straw to win out.
Of course there was more or less joking as the operation was carried out; for boys can hardly do so simple a thing as draw lots without a certain amount of fun being injected into the game.
"Now, the last belongs to Smithy, because he didn't draw," said Thad. "Hold up the one you got, Bumpus, and see if you go along with me."
Bumpus actually shook a little when he compared his "straw" and finding that it was longer than the other, he laughed with glee. That island did not have much drawing power for Bumpus; in fact, he hoped never to set foot on it again.
Each one tried to show that he had a shorter straw than the one that fell to Smithy, but without success.
"It's Smithy who goes," observed Thad; and possibly he looked pleased; for he was beginning to take a great interest in the boy who had been wrongly raised by his mother and maiden aunts, to be what is known as a "sissy;" and hoped to see him turn out to be a manly, self-reliant and brave scout.