And while Bob White had not seen fit to take his friend into his confidence it had always been plain to Thad that the other must have cherished a deep affection for the said Bertha; perhaps, since he had no sister of his own, she may have been as dear to him as one, in those times when he lived among the Blue Ridge mountains.
Before now Thad had strongly suspected that Bob had some other object in coaxing his comrades to make the pilgrimage to the Land of the Sky, besides the desire to show them its wonders. And now his own words proved it. More than that, it seemed to have some strange connection with this same little cousin, Bertha; and naturally with her legally appointed guardian, Reuben Sparks.
Thad, first of all, managed to pass the word around in a whisper, just as Bob wished it done. The boys understood that there was a reason back of the request, and expected that their comrade would take them into his confidence later on. Besides, there had really never been the slightest chance that any one of them would breathe that name of Quail in connection with Bob; indeed, most of them would have had to stop and think, if suddenly asked what his real name was, so seldom did they hear it mentioned.
The man on horseback was chatting with Allan and several others. He did not hesitate to ask questions, and was soon put in possession of the fact that they were merely the members of a Boy Scout patrol, making a strenuous hike through the Big Smoky spur of the Blue Ridge.
Thad saw that he eyed them queerly many times, as though rather doubtful whether they were giving him a straight story; but the coming of the storm soon held the attention of them all.
Just as they had expected, it was the real thing in the way of a summer storm. The lightning flashed in a way that was not only dazzling but "fearsome" as Smithy expressed it, in his elegant way. And as for the crashes of thunder that followed each and every electric current, they deafened the ears of the scouts.
A deluge of rain fell in a short time, and the rush of water near by told that the little stream, which they had struck many times during the afternoon, had all of a sudden become a raging torrent.
Nobody was sorry when finally the racket began to subside, and the rain stopped as suddenly as it had started.
"She's done for," remarked Bumpus, in a relieved tone, as though he had been half suspecting that the stream might rise in its might, and sweep cabin, scouts and all down through the valley.
The resident of the region who had also sought shelter in the friendly cabin by the wayside, looked out first, to assure himself that his horse had come through the storm safely. Then he called out good-bye, and mounting, rode away.