"But what's that white thing stuck in the crotch of the wand yonder?" demanded Toby; "looks to me like it might be some sort of communication from our poor pard Hen Condit; because that's an old scout and Indian way of leaving word, you know."
Elmer was already hurrying forward to possess himself of the message. The others watched him take it from the crotch of the stick and open the soiled paper on which there seemed to be more or less crooked writing in pencil. Then the patrol leader turned to his comrades, a look of satisfaction on his face.
CHAPTER XIII
HEN CONDIT'S STRANGE MESSAGE
"Is it from Hen?" asked two or three at once, that being the all important fact stamped upon their minds.
At the same time they realized just as well as anything it must be so, else Elmer would not be smiling and frowning as he deciphered the meaning of the scrawl. As all the boys knew, Hen Condit was one of the poorest writers in the Hickory Ridge High School. It may be remembered that in speaking of his other note some of them brought this fact forward, stating that a teacher had once declared the boy well named, since his efforts looked like "hen-tracks" on paper.
"It's lucky that I'm able to read any sort of old writing," remarked Elmer, not without a touch of boyish pride; "it's a gift with me, and Hen sometimes came to ask me to tell him what he'd set down, for after it got cold he couldn't well make it out himself."
"Then you've sensed the meaning of his present communication, have you, Elmer?" questioned Mark, a little bit given to stilted language.
"I can read it all right," was the reply he received, "but understanding the gist of it is another thing. The sentences seem disconnected, and some of them are queer. When Hen wrote this he must either have been half out of his mind, or else he was in great fear of something, or somebody!"