A CHANGE OF PLANS
That night, as the lads sat before the fire, those who had gone on the expedition of succor had to tell further particulars, for the others were curious to know about everything.
When they heard how Bud Phillips had seen the two tramps running away from the vicinity of the fire before hardly any one else was around, of course Bluff and the four other scouts were fully agreed that the mystery of the blaze had been as good as explained.
“All the same,” Jud remarked, “unless we can show some clinching evidence our theory won’t hold water with a lot of people who always have to be given solid proof. That brings up the subject, we talked about on the way home—should we pay a visit to that charcoal burners’ cabin, and try to make prisoners of the yeggs?”
“Great scheme, I’d say!” burst out Frank Savage without any hesitation.
“B-b-bully idea, let me tell you!” added Bluff. 220
“Whee!” exclaimed Sandy. “Nearly takes my breath away just to hear you mention such a bold thing; but I’m game to try it if the rest are.”
Paul smiled. Truth to tell he had discounted all this, knowing what an impetuous lot his followers were, and how prone to push aside all thought of personal danger when tempted to perform some act that might redound to their credit.
“Plenty of time yet to talk that over,” he told them. “We needn’t decide too hastily, and will let the subject rest for the present, though I don’t mind saying that the chances are we’ll conclude to do something along those lines when on our way home.”
“Is the charcoal burners’ shack far away from the creek, Tolly Tip?” questioned Bobolink, anxiously.
“By the same token I do belave it lies not more’n a quarrter av a mile off from the strame. I c’n lade ye to the same with me eyes shut,” announced the woodsman, evidently just as eager to take part in the rounding up of the vagrants as any of the enthusiastic scouts; for his eye was still a little discolored from the blow he had received in the fight with the desperate tramps.
As their time was limited, Paul knew that they should plan carefully if they were to accomplish all the things they were most desirous of carrying 221 through. On that account he had each one make up his mind just what was dearest to him, and set about accomplishing that one thing without any unnecessary delay.
As for Paul himself, he most of all regretted the fact that on account of the deep snowdrifts and the bitter cold he would probably be unable to get any more flashlight pictures.
“You see,” he explained to some of the others when they were asking why he felt so disappointed, “most of the smaller animals are buried out of sight by the snow. Like the squirrels, they take time by the forelock, and have laid in a supply of food, enough to last over this severe spell, so none of them will be anxious to show up in a hurry.”
“But I heard Tolly Tip giving you a real tip about the sly mink along the bank of the creek. How about it, Paul?” asked Jud.
“Well, that’s really my only chance,” admitted the scout-master. “It seems that minks have a perfect scorn for wintry weather around here, Tolly says, and are on the job right along, no matter how it storms. He knows of one big chap who has a regular route over which he travels nearly every night, going in and out of holes in the banks as if going visiting.”
“I don’t believe you’ve ever had a good snapshot of a live mink, have you, Paul?” inquired 222 Bluff, showing more or less interest, though still somewhat stiff with the painful scratches he had received on the previous day.
“I’ve always wanted to get such a flashlight,” admitted Paul, “because the mink is said to be one of the shyest of all small, fur-bearing animals, even more so than Br’er Fox, and considerably more timid than Br’er ’Coon.”
“You’ll have to set the trap to-night then, won’t you?” asked Tom Betts.
“We’ve made all arrangements looking to such a thing,” Tom was assured. “I’m glad that it still stays clear and cold. We may only have a couple more nights in Camp Garrity.”
“But it’s getting a little milder, don’t you think?” inquired Bobolink.
“It’s a big improvement on yesterday, and I imagine to-morrow will see a further change,” the scout-master remarked.
“Then if those fellows in the cave mean to strike out for home they’ll like as not find their chance by to-morrow,” observed Jud. “Course they’ve got enough grub to keep them for a week. But it isn’t much fun staying cooped up in a cave, and I reckon they’ve had enough of it. Sim and Jud acted that way, not to mention Bud Phillips.”
“Before we make our start I’d like to take a last turn over that way,” Paul observed, as though 223 he had been thinking the matter over. “I’d just like to see if they did strike out across the timber. Their trail would tell the story, and we’d know what to expect.”
“I speak to go with you then,” flashed back Jud, even as Bluff opened his mouth to give utterance to the same desire.
“T-t-that’s what a fellow gets for being a stutterer,” grumbled Bluff. “I meant to say just those words, but Jud—hang the l-l-luck—was too speedy for me. Huh!”
“Oh! as for that,” laughed Paul, “both of you can go along if you care to.”
As the day dragged along the scouts busied themselves in a dozen different ways according to their liking. Some preferred to swing the axe and chop wood, though doubtless if they had been compelled to do this at home, loud and bitter would have been their lamentations.
During the afternoon several went out for a walk, carrying guns along so as to be prepared for either game, or another pack of hungry wild dogs, though Tolly Tip assured them that, so far as he knew, there had existed only the one pack, with that enormous mastiff as leader.
“If ye follow the directions I’ve been after givin’ yees, it may be ye’ll come on a bevy av pa’tridges,” the woodsman told them as they were 224 setting out. “For by the same token whin we’ve had a heavy snowfall I’ve always been able to knock down a lot av the birrds among the berry bushes. ’Tis there they must go to git food or be starved entirely. Good luck to ye, boys, an’ kape yer weather eye open so ye won’t git lost!”
“Remember,” added Paul, “if you do lose your bearings stop right still and fire three shots in rapid succession. Later on try it again, and we’ll come to you. But with such clever woodsmen along as Jack and Bobolink we don’t expect anything of that kind to happen, of course.”
Paul himself went with the keeper of the woods lodge to follow the frozen creek up to a certain place where there were numerous holes in the bank. Here Tolly Tip pointed out little footprints made he said by the minks on the preceding night.
“Av course,” the woodsman went on to say, “ye do be knowin’ a hape better nor me jist where the best place to set the trap might be. All I c’n do is to show ye the p’int where the minks is most like to travel to-night.”
“That is just what I want you to do!” exclaimed Paul. “But you can help me out in fixing things, so when the mink takes the bait and pulls the string he’ll be sure to crouch directly in front of my camera trap.” 225
Between them they eventually arranged matters, and then the trapper removed all traces of their presence possible, after which they returned to the cabin.
“If the trap isn’t sprung to-night I’ll have another try-out,” Paul affirmed, “for it may be a long while before I’ll get another such chance to snap off Mr. Sly Mink in his own preserves.”
“Oh! make your mind aisy on that score,” said Tolly Tip, reassuringly. “I do be knowing the ways av the crature so well I c’n promise ye there’ll be no hitch. That bait I set is sure to fetch him ivery time. I’ve sildom known it to fail.”
The afternoon came to an end, and the glow of sunset filled the heavens over in the west. The hunters came trooping in, much to the satisfaction of some of the stay-at-homes, who were beginning to fear something might have happened to them.
“We heard a whole lot of shots away off somewhere,” asserted Phil Towns, “so show us what you’ve got in the game pockets of your hunting coats to make them bulge out that way.”
“I’ve got three fat partridges,” said Jack.
“Two for me—one in each pocket!” laughed Bobolink.
Then Jack and Bobolink looked expectantly toward Jud as though expecting him to make a still better showing. 226
At that Jud began to unload, and before he stopped he had laid six birds on the rough deal table. At that there was much rejoicing.
“Just enough to go around!” exclaimed Sandy Griggs. “I was beginning to be sorry Bluff and I had gone and cooked our birds, but now it’s all right. Here’s for a bully mess to-morrow.”
“We’ve certainly made a big hole in your partridge supply since coming up here, Tolly Tip,” announced Bobolink, proudly. “And there’s one deer less, too.”
“Only one,” said Jud, regretfully; and Paul knew he must be thinking of the stag responsible for the tracks seen on that day when they were on duty bent, and could not turn aside to do any hunting.
“Well, to-morrow may be our last day here,” remarked the scout-master, “so every one of you had better wind up your affairs, to be ready to start home.”