SAFE AT CAMP BUFFALO
Riding triumphantly on the driver's seat with Chick-chick made the return journey very different from the miserable trip Glen had made inside the car, bound and gagged, and horribly jolted at every irregularity of the road.
"Shall we leave car at Buffalo Center, or run right on to camp an' show the booty?" asked Chick-chick.
"We haven't made the trip yet," Glen reminded him. "If we're lucky enough to get all the way to Buffalo Center we'd better deliver it to the first officer we see, sheriff or constable," counseled Glen. "We don't want to be arrested for stealing. It won't do for me to be arrested for anything."
"But don't you think we ought let scoutmaster see it? Let him have say about it. Don't you think?"
"Perhaps we ought," agreed Glen, who saw clearly that Chick-chick longed for the honor of driving his captured car proudly into camp—an exciting honor which he was not reluctant to share.
"It certainly would be fine if we could make it."
But it was not to be. Daylight was still pretty good, so that they could see a long distance back along the road. And so, when they still had several miles to go, they looked back and saw their nemesis overhauling them.
"That car's coming like fury," observed Glen. "I'll bet it's Jervice and his friends hot after us."
"'Fraid so," sighed Chick-chick. "Gettin' all speed out of the old wagon I can."
"We'd better try to catch Apple and all get on the motor-bike," suggested Glen.
"Can't catch Apple unless he takes notion to turn an' see we want him. Think we can hide, I do."
"Hide the car, too?"
"Hide the car. Saw place on way out. It's less'n mile from here. There's creek pretty near dry, and bridge over it. But there's ford by side of bridge, too. We forded it coming out."
"Can you get the car down?"
"Think I can. Think can run down by ford an' get under bridge. They'll go shooting by without seeing us, they will."
It was time to be taking some action. As they mounted the hill they were evidently seen by the pursuers who sent a pistol shot after them, though not with any possibility of reaching them. At the foot of this hill lay the creek.
Chick-chick slackened speed and scanned the bank eagerly to see if the car could make the descent. Dusk was already present under the heavy timber by the creek, and he left the road slowly with the double object of feeling his way and leaving as little track as possible.
Glen leaped from the car and bent back the brush flattened out by the wheels and kicked dust over the tracks left by the car in turning. Then he rushed down and found that by skillful driving Chick-chick had managed to make the descent safely and drive the car under the arch of the bridge, so concealed by the abutments and by outgrowing bushes that there would be little likelihood of attracting notice from above excepting from careful searchers.
A few seconds later the noise overhead told them that the pursuing car had rushed on, still hot in the chase.
"What's to do, now, Brick?" asked Chick-chick. "Got old car down pretty easy, we did. Don't know about getting back. Reckon I could cross over an' climb t'other side."
"I don't believe we want to try it," counseled Glen. "We are only a couple of miles from Buffalo Center. They'll be there in a minute or two. When they find we've dodged 'em they'll start back hunting for us. We'll meet 'em and there'll be real trouble. We don't want their car, anyway."
"Let's walk on an' catch Apple, then," suggested Chick-chick. "When he finds we don't come he'll either wait for us or start back. We can all ride into camp on the bike, we can."
"Leave the wagon just like this?"
"Why not? 'Tain't ours: All we've done is interfere with burglars. If this car carries the burgling things to rob the bank they won't be able to burgle to-night, anyway. Let's look for that chart they showed you. If it's anything about the treasure it's ours."
"He said he kept it on the shelf with his railroad guides. I'm afraid he put it in his pocket after they'd looked at it."
They found the shelf with the railroad folders, but no chart of any description was there.
"'Fraid you'd see more of it than they wanted," suggested Chick-chick.
"They need not," said Glen. "I don't care what's on their chart."
"Why not?" asked Chick-chick. "Why not? They got chart cave. Cave is somewhere between our camp an' top Buffalo Mound. They say Indian cave an' think Indians have hid treasure there; why not?"
"What makes you think the cave is between our camp and the top of Buffalo Mound?"
"Didn't you say Jervice man stuck his thumb over—so shut out your look. What he do that for if cave ain't there?"
"You jump too quick, Chick-chick. I'm not sure there's a cave at all. I just know that they talked as if they were looking for a cave or a hole in the ground or some place where somebody had hid a lot of plunder."
"Sure you know it. An' why wouldn't it be a cave? An' didn't you say the big man said he'd bet Indians had bullion hid in same cave they were hunting. Didn't you?"
"That isn't saying it's so," objected Glen.
"It's sayin' it's worth lookin'," affirmed Chick-chick. "Didn't one of 'em say chart was drawn from description Indians gave?"
"Yes, but they might have been fooling 'em."
"An' they might not. If it's Indian cave it's got our treasure. You draw copy that chart from memory soon as we get back, you do."
"I can't draw," objected Glen. "Maybe I can remember enough about it to tell you or Apple how to put it on paper."
"Here's Apple coming now," said Chick-chick. "He's the boy to draw. Draws better 'n flax seed poultice. You'll draw him all maps he wants when we get to camp, won't ye, Apple?"
"If we ever get back," said Apple. "It's getting dark. Father will be anxious. Why are you leaving the car?"
"Don't want it," explained Chick-chick. "Isn't ours. 'Fraid somebody see us with it an' think our name is Jervice. We all get on little old bike an' hike along sudden, we do."
Three boys was no special load for the motor-bike. They were constantly on the look out for the pursuing car which they expected to meet coming back, but nothing did they see of it. They rushed through Buffalo Center and a few minutes later Chick-chick blew his horn for the camp.
Great was the excitement when it was seen that the search party not only had returned but had brought the missing boy. Glen was almost mobbed by the crowd of scouts who pulled him one way and another in vociferous and jovial greeting. It was an experience such as had never happened in all his life, and his heart throbbed with thankfulness, and unbidden and unexpected tears rushed to his eyes that he should be honored with such a welcome by such loyal comrades. "God is good," came the thought, and he knew that henceforth he would live a richer, deeper and more loyal life because of this experience.
Off to one corner Apple had a noisy audience and there were yet others who gathered about Chick-chick as he retailed to them in his jerky fashion such things as he deemed proper for them to know. Loud and furious discussions were heard from every group.
"There won't be any looting of the Buffalo Center Bank while the scouts are in camp, that's a cinch," proclaimed big Tom Scoresby.
"Tom'll see to that," added Chick-chick.
"If Tom doesn't do it alone, the scouts will," insisted Tom. "We wouldn't let robbers loot a bank with us in camp not a mile away, would we, Mr. Newton?"
"We wouldn't expect to have anything of the kind going on," agreed Mr. Newton.
"Great yarn, this," Matt Burton, was saying to his own little group. "I reckon we're expected to swallow it with our eyes shut. I never heard such stuff."
"What d'ye mean it's a yarn, Matt?" asked a scout.
"This story about those fellows being bank robbers. Why that scared little old peddler would be afraid to rob a sandbank. If anybody gave him a cross look, he'd die."
"You don't mean to say Brick Mason's lying?"
"Oh, no! He just has dreams."
"Did he dream himself tied up with cords cutting in so sharp they left red welts and took half hour to get circulation going?" demanded Chick-chick who had overheard.
"Red welts nothing!" retorted Matt. "I could raise red welts all over my body and never feel it."
"You keep makin' insinuations an' I know fellow'll raise red welts on you so you won't feel anything for month," threatened Chick-chick. "I felt those welts. Saw 'em too. Plain as the ridges on a non-skid tire. Anybody's thinks Brick had 'em made for fun can get all that kind o' fun he wants."
"What's the trouble, scouts?"
It was Mr. Newton, his attention drawn by the angry tones.
"Explainin' 'bout Brick's body marks," said Chick-chick.
"I think you've talked long enough." Mr. Newton easily guessed the quarrel. "Go along with Corliss and Glen and work your tongue on your supper. You other fellows see they get filled up."
Glen had rushed to Will Spencer at his first free moment, but the supper table gave him his first real chance for conversation with him. Will had his billy cart pushed up where he could clap Glen on the shoulder and tell him again how glad he was to see him safe and sound.
"Nice, comfortable day you've given your Uncle Bill," he said in cheerful accusation.
"Did you worry about me?" asked Glen.
"Not so much about you," explained Jolly Bill. "But I had a terrible time making my mind easy about that poor peddler and worrying about what would happen to him when you found he'd run off with you."
"I didn't believe there was anything J. Jervice could do to me, but I found people worse than him. I believe he's one of a robber gang—"
"I don't understand these references to robbers," interrupted Mr. Newton. "Perhaps you'd better make it clear to us."
So for the benefit of the two men, Glen went over the whole story, telling them all about his capture, his suspicions of the gang, the chart he had seen, and the way they had treated him when he refused to acquiesce in their plans.
"That sounds very grave," said Mr. Newton, busy already penciling a note. "I'll get you to take this letter to town, Henry, just as soon as you have finished your supper."
"You think they intended to rob the bank to-night?" asked Spencer.
"That was their original plan, I am sure; but I don't know—"
He was interrupted by a very earnest and eager delegation of scouts, with big Tom Scoresby at its head. Tom saluted and asked permission to address a request to the scoutmaster.
"We want to go out and capture these bank robbers before they get far away," he explained. "According to what Chick-chick says, the peddler's car is within three miles of here. Our plan is to go after it and use it to catch the thieves."
"How many scouts are in for this?" asked Mr. Newton.
As with one voice fifteen scouts shouted "I." Others came running to swell the number.
"Let us think this over quietly, scouts. It would be a great thing for us to capture this gang of thieves, wouldn't it?"
There was no doubt that the sentiment met with unanimous favor.
"Why would it be such a fine thing?"
Dead silence prevailed for a moment after this direct question; then all manner of answers filled the air.
"Show what scouts can do!"
"Put an end to bank robbing!"
"Protect our fellow citizens!"
"Glory for troop 3!"
"A scout is helpful!"
"Great sport to catch robbers!"
"A scout is brave!"
"Show we're good as men!"
These were some of the answers that were shot at the scoutmaster.
When quiet prevailed Mr. Newton resumed his talk.
"A man asked me once if I didn't think the National Council made a mistake in its decree that every organization of scouts must have a scoutmaster.
"'You baby your boys,'" he said. 'You ought to put them on their own responsibility.'
"But he forgot that certain things, such as a tempered judgment, come only by experience. A scout is brave and a scout is helpful, true enough. But a scout must learn how to use his bravery and when to be helpful.
"Now suppose I allowed you to organize for a robber hunt, and suppose that, during that hunt, some robber was so unfair as to fire real cartridges and hit some member of our expedition. What good would it do to tell the boy's mother that her son was brave, or helpful, or adventurous, or daring? What would it avail to tell her that in preparation for manhood scouts must develop daring and courage?"
He paused, but the silence was broken by no reply.
"I can conceive of circumstances in which the risk of your lives would be your duty, and I hope that, should they come, no scout of this troop will count life dearer than honor. But this is not one of them. This is a plain case for plain handling, and I want to tell you how I have handled it.
"There is a deputy sheriff in the village and I have sent word to him of the circumstances and of our suspicions. He, being a regularly appointed officer of the law, will take such steps as seem best to protect the bank and to apprehend the robbers. He is not likely to call for help from this camp for he knows that there are but two citizens here who could legally be enlisted in his posse. One of them is crippled, and the other has a squad of young boys in his care; but if the sheriff should feel a need to call upon these men, I venture to say that neither will hold back."
The boys moved away in rather an unusual silence. It was broken by a voice from a distant group, speaking loudly in heavy sarcasm.
"No need to bother about what the sheriff will do. He won't do a thing because he'll know that the whole thing is a plant."
The words rang out quite distinctly above the rather subdued hum of the other voices.
"The Great an' Only Matty!" exclaimed Chick-chick in disgust. "He sure knows all about it if it's plant."