CHAPTER II
GLORIOUS NEWS
"Look! there he goes scooting away over past that other pile of lumber!" said Tom Betts, pointing as he spoke; and both the others caught a glimpse of a dim figure that was bending over while hurrying away, as if anxious not to be seen.
"Well, what d'ye think of the nerve of that?" ejaculated Bobolink, making a move as though in his impetuous way he was sorely tempted to chase after the disappearing figure of the unknown; only that the more cautious Jack threw out a hand, and caught hold of his sleeve.
"Never mind him, boys," remarked the son of the lumber man. "Perhaps it was only a tramp from the railroad, after all, meaning to find a place to sleep among the lumber piles. But I'm going to tell my father about it, all the same. Seems to me he ought to have some one like Hans stay here every night. Some of those hoboes will set fire to things, either by accident, or because they are mad at the town for not handing enough good things out to suit their appetites."
They walked on, and in another minute were at the office door. There they sat down on the stoop to rest and talk; but only a few minutes had passed when they heard the sound of approaching footsteps; and a small but very erect figure appeared, carrying an old-fashioned musket of the vintage of '61 over his shoulder.
"Hello! Hans, on time all right, I see!" called out Jack.
"Dot is me, I dells you, every time. I am punctuality idself. I sets me der clock, undt figure dot all oudt, so I haf yust der time to valk here. Der sooner you obens der door, Misder Jack, der sooner I pe on der chob," was the reply of the little man who had been hired to watch the mill, and those strange boxes, during the night.
Evidently Hans was "strictly business." He had been hired to watch, and he wanted to be earning his wages as quickly as possible.
So Jack used his key, and the four entered the office. It was quite a good-sized room. The windows were covered with heavy wire netting, and it seemed strong enough to resist any ordinary degree of force. After that attempt to rob his safe, Mr. Stormways had taken precautions against a similar raid.
The watchman also carried a lantern, which he now lighted. No sooner had this been done than Bobolink uttered an exclamation.
"I reckon now, Jack, that these three big boxes are the ones the professor wants watched?" he observed, pointing as he spoke to several cumbersome cases that stood in a group, occupying considerable space.
Tom Betts, also looking, saw that they were unusually well fastened. In addition to the ordinary nailing, they were bound along the edges with heavy twisted wire, through which frequent nails had been driven. When they came to be opened, the job would prove no easy one.
"Yes, those are the ones; and Hans is to spend most all his time right here in the office," Jack went on to say. "I'm going to ask my father if he ought not to hire you to be night watchman right along, Hans. This plant of ours is getting too big a thing to leave unguarded, with so many tramps coming along the road in the good old summer time. I suppose you'd like the job, all right?"
"Sure," replied the bustling little man, his eyes sparkling. "I always did enchoy vorkin' for Misder Stormways. Undt it habbens dot yust now I am oudt off a chob. Dot vill pe allright. I hopes me idt turns out so. Undt now, off you like, you could lock der door some. I stay me here till somepody gomes der mornin' py."
"Oh! you keep the key, Hans," replied Jack. "You might want to chase out after some one; but father told me to warn you not to be tempted to go far away. You see, he's storing these cases for a friend, and it seems that somebody wants to either get at 'em, or steal them. They're what you're hired to protect, Hans. And now let us out, and lock the door after we're gone."
Anxious to get to the church before the meeting could be called to order, the three scouts did not linger, although Hans was such an amusing little man that they would have liked nothing better than to spend an hour in his society, listening to stories about his adventures—for the Dutchman had roamed pretty much all over the world since his boyhood.
"Shucks! I forgot to examine those boxes," lamented Bobolink, when they were on the way past the end of the lumber yard.
Jack was glancing sharply about, wondering whether that tall, skulking figure they had glimpsed could be some one who had a peculiar interest in the boxes stored in the office of the mill until Professor Hackett called for them; or just an ordinary "Weary Willie," looking for a soft board to sleep on, before he continued his hike along the railroad track.
But look as he would, he could see no further sign of a trespasser. Of course that was no sign the unknown might not be within twenty feet of them, right then. The tall piles of lumber offered splendid hiding-places if any one was disposed to take advantages of the nooks; Jack had explored many a snug hole, when roaming through the yard at various times, and ought to know about it.
"Oh! I took care of that part," chuckled Tom Betts. "I saw you were talking with Jack and old Hans, so I just stepped up, and walked around the boxes. There isn't a thing on 'em but the name of the professor, and Jack's dad's address in Stanhope."
"And they didn't look much like animal cages to me," muttered Bobolink; upon which both of the others emitted exclamations of surprise, whereupon the speaker seemed to think he ought to make some sort of explanation, so he went on hastily: "You see, Jack, I somehow got a silly idea in my mind that p'raps this little professor was some sort of an animal trainer, and meant to come up here, just to have things quiet while he did his little stunts. But that was a punk notion for me, all right; there ain't any smell of animals about those boxes, not a whiff."
"But what in the wide world gave you that queer notion?" asked Tom.
"Don't know," replied Bobolink, "'less it was what Jack said about the professor writing up from Coney Island near New York City; that's the place where all the freaks show every summer. I've been down there myself."
"Listen to him, would you, Jack, owning up that he's a sure enough freak? Well, some of us had a little idea that way, Bobolink, but we never thought you'd admit it so coolly," remarked Tom Betts, laughingly.
"And the wild animal show down there is just immense," the other went on, not heeding the slur cast upon his reputation; for like many boys, Bobolink had a pretty tough skin, and was not easily offended; "and I guess I've thought about what I saw done there heaps of times. So Coney stands for wild animal trainin' to me. But that guess was away wide of the mark. Forget it, fellows. Only whenever Jack here learns what was in those boxes, he must let his chums know. It's little enough to pay for draggin' a lame scout all the way out here tonight; think so, Jack?"
"I sure do, and you'll have it, if ever I find out," was the reply. "Perhaps, after they've been taken away by the professor, my father mightn't mind telling me what was in them. And we'll let it rest at that, now."
"But you mark me, if Bobolink gets any peace of mind till he learns," warned Tom.
Chatting on various matters connected more or less with the doings of the Boy Scout movement, and what a fine thing it was proving for the youth of the whole land, Jack and his chums presently brought up at the church which had the bell tower; and where a splendid meeting room had been given over for their occupancy in the basement, in which a gymnasium was fitted up for use in the fall and winter.
In that tower hung a big bell, whose brazen tongue had once upon a time alarmed the good people of Stanhope by ding-donging at a most unusual hour. It had come through a prank played upon the scouts by several tough boys of the town whose enmity Paul Morrison and his chums had been unfortunate enough to incur. But for the details of that exciting episode the reader will have to be referred back to the preceding volume.
Jack Stormways never glanced up at that tower but that he was forcibly reminded of that startling adventure; and a smile would creep over his face as he remembered some of the most striking features connected with the event.
In the big room the three scouts found quite a crowd awaiting their coming. Indeed, it seemed as though nearly every member of the troop had made it an especial point to attend this meeting just as though they knew there was something unusual about to come before them for consideration.
As many of these lads will be apt to figure in the pages of this story, it might be just as well to listen to the secretary, as he calls the roster of the Stanhope Troop. Once this duty had devolved upon one of the original Red Fox Patrol; but with the idea of sharing the responsibilities in a more general way, it had been transferred to the shoulders of Phil Towns, who belonged to the second patrol.
RED FOX PATROL
1—Paul Morrison, patrol leader, and also assistant scout master. 2—Jack Stormways. 3—Bobolink, the official bugler. 4—Bluff Shipley, the drummer. 5—Nuthin, whose real name was Albert Cypher. 6—William Carberry, one of the twins. 7—Wallace Carberry, the other. 8—Tom Betts.
GRAY FOX PATROL
1—Jud Elderkin, patrol leader. 2—Joe Clausin. 3—Andy Flinn. 4—Phil Towns. 5—Horace Poole. 6—Bob Tice. 7—Curly Baxter. 8—Cliff Jones, whose entire name was Clifford Ellsworth Fairfax Jones.
BLACK FOX PATROL
1—Frank Savage, patrol leader. 2—Billie Little, a very tall lad, and of course always called Little Billie. 3—Nat Smith. 4—Sandy Griggs. 5—Old Dan Tucker. 6—"Red" Conklin. 7—"Spider" Sexton. 8—"Gusty" Bellows.
Unattached, but to belong to a fourth patrol, later on:
George Hurst.
"Lub" Ketcham.
Thus it will be seen that there were now twenty-six lads connected with the wide awake Stanhope Troop, and more coming.
After the roll call, they proceeded to the regular business, with Paul Morrison in the chair, he being the president of the association. It was surprising how well many of these boyish meetings were conducted; Paul and some of his comrades knew considerable about parliamentary law, and long ago the hilarious members of the troop had learned that when once the meeting was called to order they must put all joking aside.
Many a good debate had been heard within those same walls since the scouts received permission to meet there; and yet in camp, when the rigid discipline was relaxed, these same fellows could be as full of fun and frolic as any lads going.
Tonight it had been whispered around that Paul had some sort of important communication to make. No one could give a guess as to what it might be, although all sorts of hazards were attempted, only to be jeered at as absurd.
And so, while the meeting progressed, they were growing more and more excited, until finally it was as much as some of them could do to repress a cheer when Paul, having made sure that there was no other business to be transacted, arose with a smile, and announced that he had a certain communication to lay before them.
"Are you ready to hear it?" he asked; "every fellow who is raise his hand."
Needless to say, not a single hand remained unraised. Paul deliberately counted them to the bitter end.
"Just twenty-four; and as that is the total number present, we'll call it unanimous," he said, just to tantalize them a little; and then, with an air of business he went on: "Two splendid gentlemen of this town, by name Mr. Everett and Colonel Bliss, happen to own motorboats. As they have gone to Europe, to be away until late in the Fall, they thought it would show how they appreciated the work of the Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts if they offered the free use of their two boats to us, to make a cruise wherever we thought best during the balance of vacation time. Now, all in favor of accepting this magnificent offer from our fellow townsmen signify by saying 'aye!'"
Hardly had the words fallen from the speaker's lips when a thunderous "aye" made the stout walls of the building tremble.