CHAPTER III
FOR CEDAR ISLAND—GHOST OR NO GHOST
"Three cheers for Colonel Bliss and Mr. Everett!" called out Bobolink, almost too excited to speak plainly.
Paul himself led the cheering, because he knew those delighted boys just had to find some sort of outlet for the enthusiasm that was bubbling up within them. And doubtless the walls of that sacred building had seldom heard such cheers since away back in the time when a meeting was held there at news of the Civil War breaking out in 1861 and the patriotic citizens had formed a company on the spot, to volunteer their services to the President.
"Where will we go?" called out one scout, after the cheering had died down, and they found time to consider ways and means of employing the motorboats that had been so generously given into their keeping.
"Down the Bushkill to the sea!" suggested one.
"I suppose you think these motorboats can jump like broncos?" declared Jud Elderkin, with a look of disgust; "else how would they ever get around that big dam down at Seely's Mills? We could crawl a few miles up the Bushkill, but to go down would mean only a short cruise."
"Let Paul say!" cried Bobolink, shrewdly reading the smile on the face of the assistant scout master, as he listened to all sorts of wild plans, none of which would hold together when the rest of the scouts started to pick flaws.
"Yes, Paul's got a scheme that'll knock all these wildcat ones just to flinders, see if it don't," remarked Tom Betts, waving his hands to enforce silence.
"Go on and tell us, Paul; and I reckon I c'n give a right smart guess that it's about that Radway River country," declared Bobolink.
"Just what it is," said Paul. "Listen, then, and tell me what you think of my plan. I've figured it all out, and believe we could make it a go. If we did, we'd surely have the time of our lives, and find out something that I've wanted myself to know a long while back. It's about a trip up the Radway River, too, just as our smart chum guessed."
"But, say, the boats are right here at Stanhope, and have been used in running up and down the Bushkill; then how in the name of wonder can we carry them over to the Radway, which is some miles away, I take it?" asked William Carberry, soberly.
"Wait and see; Paul's got all that arranged," declared the confident
Tom Betts.
"Have 'em hauled over on one of his father's big lumber wagons, mebbe," suggested Nuthin, who was rather a small chap, though not of quite so little importance as his name would seem to indicate.
"Oh, you make me tired, Nuthin," declared Bobolink; "why, those motorboats weigh a ton or two apiece. Think of gettin' a wagon strong enough to carry one; and all the slow trips it'd have to take to get 'em there and back. I reckon the whole of our vacation'd see us on the dry land part of the cruise. Now, let Paul tell us what plan he's been thinking about to get over to the Radway with 'em."
"Well, it's just this way," the chairman of the meeting went on to say, calmly, with the air of one who had studied the matter carefully, and grasped every little detail; "most of you know that there was a stream known as Jackson Creek that ran into the Bushkill a mile below Manchester. That was once dredged out, and made to form a regular canal connecting the two rivers. For years, my father says, it was used regularly by all sorts of boats that wanted to cross over from one river to the other. But changes came, and by degrees the old canal has been about forgotten. Still, it's there; and I went through it in my canoe just yesterday, to sound, and see if it could be used by the motorboats now."
"And could it?" asked Bobolink, eagerly.
"I think there's a fair chance that we'd pull through, though it might sometimes be a close shave. There's a lot of nasty mud in the canal, because, you see, it hasn't been cleaned out for years. If we had a good rain now, and both rivers raised, we wouldn't have any trouble, but could run through easy enough."
"Well, supposing we did get through, how far up the Radway would we push?" asked Bobolink, determined to get the entire proposition out of Paul at once, now that they had him going.
"All the way to Lake Tokala," replied Paul, promptly. "Some of you happen to know that there's a jolly island in that big lake, known as Cedar Island, because right on top of a small hill in the middle, a splendid cedar stands. Well, we could take our tents along, and make camp on that island, fishing, swimming, and having one of the best times ever heard of. What do you say, fellows?"
Immediately there was a clamor of tongues. Some seemed to be for accepting Paul's suggestion with a whoop, and declared that it took them by storm. A few, however, seemed to raise objections; and such was the racket that nobody was able to make himself understood. So the chairman called for order; and with the whack of his gavel on the table every voice was stilled.
"Let's conduct this meeting in a parliamentary way," said Paul. "Some of you must have thought it stood adjourned. Now, whoever wants to speak, get up, and let's hear what you've got to say."
"I move that we take up the plan offered, and make our headquarters on
Cedar Island," said Wallace Carberry, rising.
"Not on your life!" declared Curly Baxter, bobbing up like a jack-in-the-box; "I've heard lots about that same place. It's troubled with a mystery, and only last week I heard Paddy Reilly say he'd never go there fishin' again if he was paid for it. He's dreadfully afraid of ghosts, Paddy is."
"Ghosts!" almost shouted William Carberry; "I vote to go to Cedar Island then. I've always wanted to see a genuine ghost, and never yet had a chance."
"Now, I heard that it was a wild man that lived somewhere on that same island," remarked Frank Savage. "They say he's a terror, too, all covered with hair; and one man who'd been looking for pearl mussels in the river up that way told my father he beat any Wild Man of Borneo he'd ever set eyes on in a freak show or circus."
"Oh, that's a fine place for honest scouts to pitch their tents, ain't it—I don't think!" observed Joe Clausin, with a sneer.
"H-h-huh! ain't there j-j-just twenty-six of us s-s-scouts; and ought we b-b-be afraid of one l-l-little g-g-ghost, or even a w-w-wild man?" demanded Bluff Shipley, who stuttered once in a while, when unduly excited, though he was by degrees overcoming the nervous habit.
"Put it to a vote, Mr. Chairman!" called out Bobolink.
"Yes, and majority rules, remember," warned William Carberry.
"But that don't mean a feller just has to go along, does it?" asked
Nuthin, looking somewhat aghast at the thought.
"Of course it don't;" Bobolink told him; "all the same you'll be on deck, my boy. I just know you can't resist having such a jolly good time, ghost or not. Question, Mr. Chairman!"
"Vote! Vote!"
"All in favor of trying to go through the old canal that used to connect the Bushkill with the Radway, and cruising up to Cedar Island, camping there for a week or ten days, say 'aye,'" Paul went on to remark.
A thunderous response cheered his heart; for somehow Paul seemed very much set upon following out the scheme he himself had devised.
"Contrary, no!" he continued.
There were just three who boldly allowed themselves to be set down as not being in favor of the daring plan—Nuthin, Curly Baxter and Joe Clausin; and yet, just as the wise, far-seeing Bobolink had declared, when it came to a question of staying at home while the rest of the troop were off enjoying their vacation, or swallowing their fear of ghosts and wild men, these three boys would be along when the motorboats started on their adventurous cruise.
"The ayes have it; and the meeting stands adjourned, according to the motion I can see Jack Stormways's just about to put," and with a laugh Paul stepped down from the platform.
For fully half an hour they talked the thing over. It was viewed from every possible angle. Many objections raised by the doubters were promptly met by the ready Paul; and in the end it was definitely decided that they would give just one day to making all needed preparations.
They had tents for the three patrols now, and all sorts of cooking utensils; for frequently the scouts were divided into messes, there being a cook appointed in each patrol.
What was needed most of all were the supplies for an extended stay; and when it was taken into consideration that a score of boys, with ravenous appetites, would want three big meals each and every day, the question of figuring out enough provisions to see them through was no light matter.
But then they had considerable money in the treasury, and a numbers of the boys said they would bring loaves of bread, and all sorts of eatables from home; so Paul saw his way clear toward providing the given quantity.
"Don't forget that the gasoline is going to eat a big hole into our little pile of the long green," remarked Curly Baxter, still engaged in trying to throw cold water on the scheme.
"Oh, that makes me think of something I forgot to tell you, fellows," declared Paul, his face filled with good humor. "One of the stipulations connected with the lending of these two motor-boats by the kind gentlemen who own them was that they insisted on supplying all the liquid fuel needed to run the craft. The tanks are to be filled, and each boat carries in addition another drum, with extra gasoline. We'll likely have enough for all our needs that way, and without costing us a red cent, either. So, you see how easy most of your objections melt away, Curly. Chances are, you'll fall into line, and be with us when we start the day after tomorrow."
Several of the boys were feeling pretty blue. They wanted to accompany the rest of the troop the worst way; but it happened that their folks had planned to go down to the sea-shore for a month, until school began again; and the chances were they would have to go along, though every one of them declared they would choose the cruise up the Radway in the two motorboats, if given their way.
But it looked as though there was going to be a pretty fair crowd on each boat. Paul counted noses of those he believed would be along, and found that they seemed to number eighteen. If two of the three timid ones concluded to throw their fears to the winds, and come along, it would make an even twenty.
"Of course, it will be hard to sleep so many aboard, because the boats are small affairs, taken altogether," Paul observed; "but we hope to make the journey in a full day, and be on Cedar Island by nightfall."
"Whew! night on Cedar Island—excuse me if you please!" faltered Curly Baxter, holding up both hands, as though the idea suggested all sorts of terrible things to his mind; but much as he seemed desirous of causing others to back out, Paul saw no signs of any one doing so.
"Meet here at noon tomorrow, boys, and I'll report what I've done. Then we can figure on what else we have to lay in store, so as to be comfortable. We must get everything down to the boats before evening, because we start early on Wednesday, you hear. At eight A. M., Bobolink, here, will sound his bugle; and ten minutes later we weigh anchor, or cut loose our hawsers, as you choose to say it, for it means letting go a rope after all."
They started home in bunches, as usual, those who happened to live near together naturally waiting for each other. Paul, Jack, and Bobolink walked together.
"And just as it happens so many times," Paul was saying, as they sauntered on in the direction of home. "Mr. Gordon is away on the road somewhere, selling goods; so we have to go without having our fine scoutmaster along to look after us."
"Guess nobody will miss him very much, although Mr. Gordon is a mighty nice man and we all think a heap of him; but you are able to fill his shoes all right, Paul; and, somehow, it seems to feel better not to have any grown-up along. The responsibility makes most of the fellers behave, and think for themselves, you see," Jack went on to say.
Paul heaved a little sigh, for he knew who shouldered most of that same responsibility.
"But," remarked Bobolink, as he was about to separate from Jack and Paul on a certain corner, where their ways divided; "I'd give something right now to just know what's in those queer old boxes Professor Hackett has stored in your mill, Jack; and why they have to be watched, just like they held money or something that has to be guarded against an unknown enemy! But I guess I'll have to take it out in wantin', because you don't know, and wouldn't tell till you got the consent of your dad, even if you did. Goodnight, fellows; and here's hoping we're going to have the time of our lives up and around Cedar Island!"