THE BEE TREE
Matt's presence in the tree beneath which Glen walked with J. Jervice was neither accident nor coincidence. He had business there—business which he considered important, which he did not wish, to share either with J. Jervice or Glen Mason or any other person. At least he did not wish to share it right at that moment; later on would be another story.
Matt was making a bee tree. Perhaps you did not know that bee trees could be made, nor how to make them. Matt himself was not very clear on either of these heads. He was experimenting, and back of his experiment was a desire to get even with Chick-chick.
Henry Henry, commonly called Chick-chick, did not desire to shine as a great athlete, sport leader, a water witch, or in any of the other specialties in which Matt reveled, but he did pretend to know a little something about beetles, bugs, butterflies and bees. He had long cherished an ambition to find a "bee tree." At last night's camp fire he had announced his positive belief, based on observations of the day, that such a tree was somewhere in the vicinity of the blazed oak. He had watched the bees until dark without definitely locating his tree but he had not given up.
Matt decided that it would be a great pity to let all Chick-chick's efforts go for nothing. He proposed to help find such a tree, or to put Chick-chick in the way of it so that he would be bound to find it. He wanted the find to be public, and the interest in it to be so popular that all thought of buried treasure—especially treasure buried in a bread-box—would be obliterated forever from the minds of those in camp.
Matt had gone to some little trouble in his fixing. He had neatly lettered a sign: "Wild honey. Prepared by the Honey Bees for Chick-chick." This he stuck into the bottom of the hollow limb, only an end protruding. Then he put in a good chunk of honeycomb, begged from Bob. From a small jar he then released some half dozen bees which he had allowed himself to borrow from Mr. Ryder's hives. His supposition was that these bees would fill up and fly back to the hives. Soon they would return bringing their mates with them. In a short time a steady stream of bees would be passing in and out of that hollow limb, which would be just the time for Chick-chick to make his proud discovery and announce it.
After Matt had fixed the tree to his satisfaction his chief trouble was to lead Chick-chick to make the discovery in a perfectly natural manner. The best opportunity came as they went back to camp after the morning swim. Chick-chick was always a wanderer, likely at any moment to dart off in sudden pursuit of something. This morning it was a butterfly, and to Matt's delight he ran in the direction of the loaded tree. The crowd joined in the pursuit. They were within a short distance of Matt's tree before they gave it up.
"How about that bee tree you were going to get, Chick-chick?" suggested Matt. "Round here somewhere, isn't it?"
"Why not?" asked Chick-chick. "Why not. Why ain't this good place as any for bee make her happy cupboard?"
"Show it to us, Chick-chick. You're hiding it. We know what you are trying to do. You want to keep all that honey for yourself."
"Chick-chick wants all the honey for himself," chimed the chorus. "Lead us to your bee tree, Chick-chick. Don't be selfish."
"A'right, boys. There's bee tree in these woods. I don't want dinner—want bee tree. All who feel just so an' similar follow me. Here flies honey-bee right now. Watch her!"
And the bee sailed right to Matt's tree.
"Oh, look at the bees buzzing around that hole. Let me get at it," cried an excited scout.
"Not too familiar," warned Chick-chick. "Bees have feelin's. D'ye never hear the piece:
"How doth the little honey bee
In self defense excel.
She gives her life for one sharp sting
Yet hath she spent it well."
"Leave it to the expert, fellows," cried Matt. "Let him get at it. Make way for the sum of all knowledge."
"It's me he means," modestly admitted Chick-chick. "He wants me to tackle this peculiar tree. Peculiar tree an' peculiar bees!"
"Why peculiar?"
"They've done changed theirselves since I saw 'em yes'day. To-day they're Italians—the nicest kind of tame bees we have. Yes'day they was wild, black Germans—nothing like this."
"What changed 'em?"
"Jes' naturally smart, reckon. See, they scratched the bark gettin' up tree, too. Here's place one of 'em rested number nine shoe an' cut bark through. Most remarkable honey bees ever heard of."
"Why don't you go up an' find out about 'em?"
"Answer me this botanical riddle first. What's difference between tree and a plant?"
"We give it up."
"You too, Matt?"
"Sure I give it up. What is it."
"Well, Matty, Great an' Only; in this case ain't no difference. This is tree an' plant too. 'Tain't a bee tree but it's bee plant, see. Watch the bees. Ought to be comin' in loaded an' goin' away light. But they ain't—they're doing just totherwise. Somebody's put some stuff up there. Who d'ye reckon?"
But Matt was already stealing away.
"Let him go," directed Chick-chick. "Bees are all buzzing 'stung' they are. But no stinger in me."
After that, no one cared further what the tree held. They rushed back to camp, for the dinner hour was upon them and their appetites were brisk from their swim.
Dinner was almost ended when Chick-chick, who was acting as a waiter, was called to the end of the table where the scoutmaster sat with Will Spencer.
"Mr. Spencer is wondering about Glen Mason," said Mr. Newton. "He hasn't come in, yet, for dinner. Was he at the swim?"
"No, sir. I haven't seen Brick since morning."
The scoutmaster rose to his feet.
"Mason has not appeared at dinner. Has any one seen him since ten o'clock?"
There was no answer; the boys waited in silence. At last Chick-chick held out a crumpled sheet of paper.
"I haven't seen him, but here's what found near tree where Matt thought he'd found bee tree," he explained.
It was the note from J. Jervice. Mr. Newton read it in silence.
"I don't know who could have written such a note," he remarked, handing it to Jolly Bill.
Then Matt Burton found his voice.
"I was in the neighborhood where the note was dropped this morning and I saw Mason in company with the very disreputable peddler fellow who came here Sunday. They seemed very intimate and were going off together."
"What do you mean by going off together?"
"I mean they were just walking along through the woods like they'd always known each other and were planning something. The thought came to me that they might be accomplices and the peddler had sent the boy into our camp just to work something up."
"He sure did it," volunteered Chick-chick.
"Something up and something down," suggested an irresponsible listener.
"That's enough, boys." Mr. Newton brought them sharply to order. "Burton has no right to such a guess nor you to such remarks. They don't make for harmony. They aren't helpful. You may all go now, except the patrol leaders and assistants and the signal corps."
When the little group had collected Mr. Newton continued his remarks.
"Glen Mason is a scout—a member of this troop—and we are responsible for him in more ways than one. Mr. Spencer and I know enough about him to be sure that there is no reason why he should go away with the peddler excepting under misrepresentation. Perhaps nothing out of the way has happened, but we have just a suspicion that Jervice is making an effort to get Glen into his hands for a reward which he thinks he will get."
"He'll have a sweet time holding him in his hands after he gets him," interrupted Jolly Bill.
"Unless he has help," corrected Mr. Newton. "And this is not improbable. Because of this I want the scouts to divide into groups of four and explore the territory I lay out. Each patrol leader and each assistant will take three boys. Signal and make for headquarters at once if you find anything. If there is any need of a rescue don't attempt it without me. Henry may start at the place where he found the note."
Thus it happened that a short time later, Chick-chick, Goosey and two other scouts were making a careful search around the bee tree.
"Everything's trampled flat around here. That crowd this morning did it," announced Chick-chick. "Every fellow spread out ten yards to his left."
It was Goosey who found the trail.
"Here it is," he cried. "It's Brick's trail all right. Mr. Spencer said to look for marks of heel plate on the right shoe and here it is. There was somebody with him."
The ground being soft and damp in spots there was no difficulty in following the trail. It led them to an open glen which showed a recent camp fire and the travel of many feet. Leading off toward the road were the broad depressions made by the tires of an automobile.
"My find, now," cried Chick-chick. "Here's where we do some real fine work, an' we can do it on the run, we can. See the tracks. What are they?"
"Automobile tracks," yelled the squad.
"What kind of a tire made 'em?"
There was no enthusiastic shout this time.
"An automobile tire," ventured Goosey.
"Jes' so, Goosey. Jes' so! It was rubber one, too, why don't you say? Good, safe guess—rubber."
"All right, Chick-chick. Be as funny as you want. If my father ran a garage I reckon I'd know something about tires, too."
"'Scuse me! You certainly right, Goosey. Who ought know automobile tires if not me. What I want you see is these tires can be followed anywhere 'cause they're non-skid with that peculiar bar formation. They'll show up on road so we can follow on dead run, we can."
"How do you know we want to follow? What makes you suppose Mason has gone in the car? Maybe we'll find his tracks going on away from here."
"Bright thought, Goosey. Ev'body look for tracks leading 'way from here."
They searched industriously but in vain.
"No good," decided Chick-chick. "Got old Brick in their wagon, all right, all right. We must go after him, we must."
"Mr. Newton said not to attempt any rescue."
"We ain't was going to. Back to headquarters an' report an' me for my motor-bike. Mr. Newton mebbe can get a car in Buffalo Center an' mebbe he can't; but no heavy old buzz-wagon can get where my motor-bike can't catch 'em."
Mr. Newton agreed to Chick-chick's plan of chase rather more readily than he had expected.
"It's perhaps as good a thing as we can do," he asserted, discussing the plan with Will Spencer. "I have a good many of the younger scouts in my especial care and cannot afford to leave camp on a wild goose chase."
"Motor-bike carries two," suggested Chick-chick. "Apple go with me?"
"Yes. You and Corliss may go. Don't do anything foolish. If you overtake the car get the peddler to stop. If Glen is a captive use your coolest judgment about interfering. The man may be armed and it would be far better to push on to the nearest town and get help than to risk a bullet. Of course, if Glen should be going of his own wish you must just come back and tell me."
"No fear of that," said Spencer.
"What shall we do if he isn't to be seen and the peddler won't let us look inside?" asked Apple.
"A scout's judgment and ingenuity ought to be worth something in such a case," replied Mr. Newton. "I prefer not to instruct you. I'm not sending you two big fellows out as messenger boys but as scouts. Use all the knowledge and courage and skill that you have, but don't take unnecessary risks."