“Next in line come our friends, the hobo yeggmen!” remarked Jud, with a grim closing of his lips.
“Listen,” said Paul, impressively, “for the last time I want to caution you all to follow the directions I’ve given. We must try to creep up on that old shack, and find out what the tramps are doing before we show our hand.”
“Well, what have scouts been learning woodcraft for if they can’t do a bit of spy work?” asked Jud, boldly. “All you have to do, Paul, is to pick those you want to keep you company when you make the grand creep; while the rest hang out close by, ready to jump in at the signal and make it unanimous.”
It might have been noticed, were one watching closely, that Jud said this with a complacent smile hovering about his lips. The reason was easily guessed, because Jud really had no peer among the members of Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts when it came to creeping up on game or some pretended enemy.
He had often proved his superiority in this respect, and could therefore take it for granted 233 that the scout-master would pick him out to accompany him on an occasion like this.
“All right, Jud,” said Paul, smilingly, for he understood very well how the other felt, “I’ll take Jack with me, Bobolink, and Tom Betts as well—yes, and you may come along too, I guess.”
Some of them snickered at this, while Jud glared haughtily around and shrugged his shoulders, looking aggrieved, until Paul took occasion to whisper in his ear:
“That was meant for a joke you understand, Jud. Of course, I couldn’t think of doing this thing without your help.”
Later on Tolly Tip announced that they would now leave the creek and head in the direction of the abandoned charcoal burners’ shack. All the scouts felt more or less of a thrill in anticipation of what was to come.
“I only hope,” Jud was heard to mutter, aggressively, “that they haven’t gone and skedaddled since Bud Phillips saw ’em in the place. That’d make me feel pretty sore, let me tell you!”