CHAPTER VI
A NOCTURNAL VISITOR
Tom Sherwood threw out his arms and yawned loudly. "I'm sleepy," hemumbled. "Guess I'll turn in, if you fellows are going to sit upmuch longer."
"Good idea, Tom," commented Ralph, looking up from the letter hewas writing. "You've been making a holy show of yourself for thelast half hour, and I've been expecting every minute to see youdislocate your jaw."
"It's being out in this air all day and doing such a lot of manuallabor," said Tom, as he staggered to his feet.
"Oh, say, I hope you're not doing too much! You know, Tom, you'renot used to farm work." Ralph laid down his pen and blotted theletter with much deliberation. His pale face, from which thefreckles had faded noticeably during a week of indoor confinement,wore an expression of deep concern. "And it's not easy, I cantell you!"
Arthur Cameron chuckled. Though he said nothing, the expression onhis face was one of such utter disbelief that even Tom noticed itand turned on him, frowning.
"Well, what are you looking at me like that for?" he demanded,without being able to hide a grin. "Haven't I been exercising?Haven't I? What have you got to say about it? Didn't I spade upthat old melon-patch and plant sixteen rows of carrots in it, thisafternoon?"
"I never said you didn't, old scout," said Arthur.
"I know you've been working like a cart-horse, Tom," interposedRalph, who had hobbled around the fields for the first time thatday, directing the labors of his friends. "You and Art have donewonders all week, and I'll never be able to thank you enough forall the help you've given me. It's simply great to have such palsas you two! And mother'll be delighted to know that everything'sgoing so swell. I had a letter from Doctor Kane to-day---guessI told you? He said the operation was very successful and she'sdoing finely."
"Mighty glad to know it!" Tom declared warmly. "Did he say whenshe could come home?"
"In a few days. But you fellows can't leave then! No, sir-ee!We're going to have some fun after all this work is over, andmother and I will want you to stay and loaf for a while. I canshow you where to get some dandy photos of nesting birds, andI know where a pair of red foxes have a kennel every spring.You can take pictures of the vixen and her cubs, if you go aboutit carefully at the right time of day."
Arthur's eyes shone with pleasant anticipation. He was delightedwith the prospect of getting some good photographs to show theboys in Pioneer Camp. But Tom, though he also looked forwardeagerly to the reunion of the troop at camp, shook his head withregret at the thought of leaving the farm. Ralph had told himmore about the dispute over the boundary, and about his father'sdreams of finding iron ore on the land; Tom was interested, forRalph's sake, in having the land surveyed and examined.
"Why don't you go to bed now, too?" asked Tom, when they hadfinished talking about animal photography. "You need the rest, Iknow, Ralph."
"I'm going, in a few minutes, just as soon as I finish this letter.Trot along, boys!"
"Well, good night," grunted Arthur, as he disappeared into his room.
"Good night."
"Don't be too long at it, Ralph."
"No, I won't. Good night, old top."
His gaze followed Tom as his sleepy guest slouched out of the room,and when he heard Tom's heavy footsteps on the creaking stairs,he took up his pen once more. Propping his head with his otherhand, and shading his eyes from the lamplight, he wrote on. In afew minutes the springs of Tom's bed creaked violently as hedropped down on it, and soon the sound of his heavy breathing inthe room above showed that he was dead to the world.
Ralph's eyelids began to droop drowsily. In vain he struggled tokeep them open. He put his head down on the table, with a sigh,and before he realized it he was asleep.
The next thing he knew was that he found himself sitting up, wideawake. He had a distinct impression that he had been roused by thesound of a human voice. How long he had slept he could not tell.The lamp had gone out and the room was in inky darkness. As he satlistening, all at once he heard a sound of some one moving aboutthe room.
"Wonder if we forgot to lock the kitchen door?" was his firstthought. Then he spoke aloud: "Who's there?"
No answer.
"Who is it?" Ralph demanded, in a louder tone. "What are you doing?What do you want?"
Still no answer. Only an impressive and uncanny silence.
Reaching out for his walking stick, which lay on the table besidehim, Ralph got up from the chair without noise or further ado,and took a few steps forward. As he did so, a burly form crashedagainst him in the darkness, knocking him down. Unhurt, thoughconsiderably startled, Ralph sprawled upon the carpet and staredquickly up at the window, by which the intruder would have to passin order to reach the doorway leading into the kitchen. At thesame moment, he raised his voice and called out:
"Tom! Arthur! Come down here! Oh, Tom!"
"Curse you!" muttered a harsh voice. "Shut up, or I'll-----"
"Tom!" yelled Ralph, defiantly. He would have risen at once andgrappled with the intruder, only, with a weak ankle, he did notcare to run the risk of a nasty blow or a bad fall. He yelledlustily instead, and in a minute he heard Tom spring out of bedand come tearing down the stairs.
But his mysterious assailant lost not a moment in making a getaway;he did not even wait to slip out by the rear door, through whichhe must have entered. Springing to the window, he smashed itwith a kick, and was in the act of crawling through and droppingto the ground outside, when Tom flung himself upon him and draggedhim back into the room. Fear of cutting himself on the brokenglass evidently made the scoundrel yield more readily than hewould otherwise have done. As it was, he put up a game fight,notwithstanding that Ralph, forgetting his ankle, joined in thefray.
The three rolled over and over in a confused heap. Tom felt astinging blow on the side of his head, which made scores of starsdance before him in the darkness, but he never relaxed his gripon the man's collar. Ralph, too, was pounded and battered andchoked by a powerful hand at his throat. Suddenly there was anaudible rip, something gave way in Tom's hands, and the man, hurlingthe two lads from him with a frantic lunge, got to his feet anddashed out through the kitchen. Before Ralph and Tom could recoverthemselves, they heard him running down the road, just outsidethe window, at full speed.
"Great Scott! he's gone! he got away from us!" ejaculated Tom,in disgust. "Where are you, Ralph? Where's a light, a match?"
"Here I am!" Ralph answered, scrambling to his feet. "What onearth has Art been doing all this time? Didn't he hear the rumpus?"
"You bet I did!" exclaimed Arthur, coming into the room. "Iheard your yells, and I ran downstairs after Tom, but---but Istumbled into the parlor, thinking the fight was in there. ThenI heard one of these dining-room chairs being knocked over, andI rushed in-----"
"You were just a minute too late!"
Ralph groped for a matchbox on the mantel-shelf, struck a light, andapplied it to the wick of the lamp. When the room was again visible,he told his friends what had happened.
"I don't know why he broke into this house; there's no money here,"added Ralph, "unless-----" He stopped short with a gasp, and,going over to a wall cupboard, opened one of the drawers. "Gone!"he cried. "The money I got for those last pelts! It's gone, beforeI had time to put it in the bank! The thief has taken it!"
"Who could it be?" asked Arthur, after a brief, sympathetic silence.
"I can't guess. Tim Meadows, the man who helped me with the plowinglast fall, was too honest to---no, it couldn't be Tim! Perhaps---what's that you've got in your hand, Tom?"
With a start, Tom looked down. Clutched in his right hand was afragment of a man's coat collar and the shreds of a green and yellowstriped tie.
"It's a clew!" said he, with the air of a professional sleuth.
Boy Scouts of the Geological Survey Page 6
