Perk gave a low cry as the door suddenly swung back under Elmer’s push. The moon was shining brightly, and standing there in its mellow glow were two stalwart figures and a hound. The first thing Perk noticed was the fact that both men were garbed in some sort of uniform, with caps that bordered on the military.
Meanwhile the two men were bending forward and looking at the youthful group that filled the doorway of the cabin. One of them gave a grunt, and followed this with a scornful laugh that grated on the nerves like a file.
“There you are, Collins, with all your being so sure we’d find the tricky chap located here, just because his trail headed this way. Sold again, Elihu, and off the scent once more! Now perhaps you’ll pay some attention to my plan of campaign, since yours has petered out so flat.”
The other man continued to stare at Elmer and his mates.
“Who are you chaps anyway, and what’re you doing here?” he demanded.
“Oh! that’s easily explained,” said the Kitching boy cheerily. “We all belong in Chester, you see, and make up the Camp Fire Boys’ Club. Just now we are on one of our regular trips to the woods for sport, and to wind up the summer vacation. My name is Elmer Kitching, this is Amos Codling; the tall chum is a son of Caleb Winkleman who owns the classy motion picture theater in our town; and the last boy is Perk—his dad is an engineer on the B. & S. Railroad. Might I ask who you are, and what you expected to find here in this shack at Old Cabin Bend of the Beaverkill?”
“That’s a civil question, youngster, and since you’ve been so obliging, I don’t mind answering it. Me and my mate Andrews here are guards over at the big State Asylum for the Insane. A few days ago one of the inmates managed to escape, and we’ve been searching the whole countryside for him ever since. Our hound here found and lost his trail again and again in the queerest way ever. The last time he ran it out the fugitive was heading this way. Somehow I got a notion he must know about this old cabin here, and was making for it. You see I originally came from Crawford Notch, and knew all about the deserted cabin up here. So I influenced my pal to drop around.”
“Yes,” broke in the man who had been called Andrews, “and when we caught the glimmer of a dying fire through the trees, Collins here was dead sure we’d treed our coon at last. But the game is all off again, it seems; and we can start in looking where we left off; warning the farmers as we go to keep their eyes peeled for a clever chap who’ll hoodwink them with his blarney, if he gets half a chance.”
“Thank you for telling us,” said Elmer; “and in return let me say that when we struck this cabin some time after moonrise to-night, there was an odor of stale tobacco smoke hanging around inside. One of my chums here also declared he glimpsed some sort of figure bending over like an animal, and getting out of sight in a hurry!”
At hearing this the men both uttered exclamations that told of renewed interest. “That sounds interesting,” said Collins, warmly. “It might be we can pick up a fresh trail around these diggings. About where was it he was seen?”