CHAPTER 2 A Coded Message
The dark, curly-haired boy who lay on the sand stirred slightly as Danand Brad bent down to shake his arm.
Seeing their faces above him, he pulled himself up on an elbow, staringat them with blank expression.
Fear gleamed momentarily in his steel-gray eyes, and then he seemed torelax. With a tired sigh, he settled back, clutching convulsively at thesand.
Though the Cubs tried twice to arouse him, he did not respond.
"He's completely worn out," Brad said, deeply troubled.
"Obviously he's been in the river," Dan added. "My guess is he'sexhausted from a long swim. Ever see him before?"
Brad shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he never went to any of the WebsterCity schools or I'd remember him. Must be a newcomer."
"Whoever he is, he shouldn't lie here in wet clothes."
"You're right, Dan. He'll catch his death in this night air. And heprobably needs medical attention."
"Think we could carry him to the Cave?"
"Not by ourselves, Dan. We need the other Cubs to help."
Wetting his fingers, Brad gave the shrill whistle which had been agreedupon as the signal to mark the end of the treasure hunt.
Immediately the other Cubs began to gather from all sections of thebeach.
"Gosh! What fast workers you little guys are!" Mack Tibbets complainedgoodnaturedly as he hurried up. "It didn't take you long to dig up thechest!"
"We haven't found it yet," Brad replied. "But we have stumbled intosomething else."
Already Mack's startled gaze had fastened upon the sprawled figure of theboy on the sand. Before he could comment, Mr. Hatfield and the other Cubsarrived.
"What's this?" the Cub leader demanded, stopping short.
Dan explained how he and Brad had found the strange boy lying on thesand, adding: "The kid raised up a second and then lapsed off."
"Unconscious?"
"I don't think so, sir," Brad replied. "He seemed more exhausted thananything else. We haven't touched him."
Mr. Hatfield knelt in the sand, feeling the boy's pulse which was weakand fast. Carefully he turned him over to look directly into his face.
Again the eyelids fluttered open and his lips moved slightly. Mr.Hatfield bent closer but could not distinguish the words.
"Any idea who he is?" he asked the Cubs.
"We never saw him before," Brad answered. "We were looking for thetreasure when Dan noticed him lying here by the boat."
"He must have crawled from the water only a few minutes ago," Mr.Hatfield said. The Cub leader had noticed long marks in the sand,indicating that the boy had dragged himself beyond reach of the waves. "Isuppose we'd better send for an ambulance--"
His words trailed off, for the boy on the sand unexpectedly had stirredto life. As if aroused by hearing the Cub leader's remark, he tried tosit up.
"Easy, lad," Mr. Hatfield advised, placing a supporting arm about hisshoulders. "We'll get you to a hospital."
The boy's head shook in a vigorous negative. His fingers gripped Mr.Hatfield's arm in a hard pressure.
"No!" he whispered fiercely. "No!"
Puzzled by the intensity of the boy's reaction, Mr. Hatfield studied hima moment in silence.
"You've been in the river?" he asked as the other offered no information.
Again the head bobbed, this time in an affirmative answer.
"Who are you?" Mr. Hatfield inquired, stripping off his leather jacketand wrapping it about the shivering boy. "How did you get in the river?"
The boy merely stared at the Cub leader and did not answer. Then with asupreme effort, he tried to pull away from the supporting arm.
"I go," he mumbled. "All right now."
"Where will you go?" interposed the Cub leader. "Don't be foolish. You'rein no condition to walk. Come on, boys. Let's take him to the Cave."
Having no stretcher or board which could be used as one, Brad and Mr.Hatfield made a seat of their arms and carried the boy to the stepsleading up into the Cave. There they were joined by Mr. Holloway andRed's father who helped.
Once in the Cave, the Cubs made the boy comfortable on a couch. Strippingoff his wet garments, they wrapped him in a warm blanket.
"Feeling better?" Mr. Hatfield asked him. "I think I should call adoctor."
"No--please," he mumbled, pleading with his eyes.
To Mr. Hatfield and the fathers of the Cubs it was apparent that the boyslowly was recovering from his ordeal in the river. And it also wasevident that for some reason, he did not wish to reveal anything abouthimself.
"Suppose you tell us your name," Mr. Hatfield suggested, seating himselfbeside the boy.
The youth regarded him with a stony stare and answered no word.
"Maybe you'll tell us a little later," Mr. Hatfield said kindly.
Deciding to leave the boy alone for awhile, he retired to a far corner ofthe Cave to talk over the matter with Mr. Suell and Midge's father.Neither the Cubs nor their fathers ever had seen the boy before.
"It's queer how he came to be in the river," Mr. Hatfield remarked in anundertone. "Plainly, he's trying to hide something."
"Think we should turn him over to the police for investigation?" Mr.Holloway asked, looking troubled.
"He seems like a good sort," the Cub leader replied. "My judgment wouldbe to wait and see what develops. He may be suffering from shock, thoughI think his refusal to talk is deliberate."
Brad and Dan, who had taken charge of the boy's wet garments, nowapproached Mr. Hatfield.
"What is it, boys?" he inquired, aware by their manner that they had animportant disclosure to make.
Brad asked the Cub leader if he would step outside to a platform fromwhich the wooden steps descended.
Surprised by the request, Mr. Hatfield followed the two Cubs.
"What's up?" he questioned when they were beyond the hearing of theothers. "You've learned something about that youngster?"
"We were hanging up his clothes, and sort of went through his pockets,"Brad confessed. "Maybe we shouldn't have--"
"On the whole, I think I might have done the same," Mr. Hatfieldreassured him. "The boy evidently has no intention of telling us anythingabout himself. So I figure it's up to us to puzzle out a few facts forourselves."
"Here's what we found," Dan said, offering Mr. Hatfield a scrap of heavywrapping paper.
The Cub leader snapped on his flashlight to study the writing. Only twowords appeared, preceded by a string of puzzling numerals.
"020614 7552845 24 Skeleton Island."
"Queer," Mr. Hatfield commented. "You say this paper came from the boy'spocket?"
"Yes, it was wadded up inside an old cigarette case," Dan explained."That's, why it wasn't water-soaked."
"Find anything else?"
"Only a couple of handkerchiefs, a pocket knife and a few odds and ends,"Brad replied.
"Nothing to indicate who the boy is or where he came from?"
"Not a thing, sir. The only clue is this scrap of paper. What do you makeof it, Mr. Hatfield?"
"Frankly, I'm puzzled, Brad. This reference to Skeleton Island seems veryodd."
"Do you suppose those numerals could be a code of some sort?" Dan askedeagerly.
"Well, that's hard to say. But by all means hang on to this paper, Dan."
"We sure will," Dan promised, replacing it in his pocket. "If it shouldbe a code maybe we can work it out. The only trouble is, I wouldn't knowwhere to start."
Footsteps now were heard padding softly on the steps leading to theplatform.
Gazing down, the Cubs saw that it was Mrs. Holloway, who had arrived. Theofficial Den Mother climbed slowly, carrying a heavy hamper of food.
Dan and Brad darted down the stairs to help with the basket.
"Dear me, these steps seem steeper every time I climb them," she laughed,pausing on the platform to recapture her breath.
Obser
ving through the open doorway of the Cave that all the Cubs hadgathered there, Mrs. Holloway expressed surprise that the treasure hunthad ended so early.
"Why, I'm late bringing the food!" she exclaimed. "I expected the beachouting to last at least another half hour."
Mr. Hatfield told her what had occurred, adding: "Perhaps you can dosomething for the boy. He's inside."
"You've sent for a doctor?" Mrs. Holloway inquired.
"Yes, Mr. Suell went after Dr. Redfield a few minutes ago. The lad seemsto be coming around all right. He's a strange sort of boy--so far, hewon't tell us his name or anything about himself."
"I'll find out," Mrs. Holloway said confidently.
Inside the Cave, nearly all of the Cubs had gathered about the couchwhere the strange boy lay. His dark brown eyes now appeared alert, androved systematically over the room, taking in every detail.
He noted an animal skin which hung on the wall above the couch, a shelfof Indian handicraft articles, and raffia baskets made by the Cubs. Hisgaze dwelt longest upon a silver trophy engraved with the Den 2 name.
"We won that cup in the Pack handicraft show," Chips volunteered,observing the boy's interest. "Red and I made an Indian headdress whichtook top honors."
"Aw, cut out the boasting," Red interposed with a laugh. "Remember, if ithadn't been for Brad and Dan recovering that feather war bonnet after itwas carried down river with the flood, the Den wouldn't have won athing."
"That's right," Chips admitted readily. "We all worked together to earnthe trophy. And to clear the Den name too."
As all the Cubs knew, the feathers which had been so skillfully woveninto the headdress had been obtained from the Silverton Pheasant Farm notmany miles distant.
Due to a misunderstanding, all the Cubs had been accused of trespassing,and Chips and Red of stealing. Only by diligent work had Dan and Bradcleared the two boys of the charge.
The story of how a group of daring pheasant thieves was brought tojustice, has been told in the first volume of a series, entitled: "DanCarter, Cub Scout."
Quietly taking charge, Mrs. Holloway cleared the bedside by assigning theCubs to small tasks about the Cave. From a thermos bottle she poured asteaming cup of hot chocolate which she pressed to the boy's lips.
He drank slowly and then with a grateful smile expressed his thanks.
"You're feeling better now, aren't you?" the Den Mother said,straightening the blankets on the couch.
The boy nodded.
"Not very talkative, are you?" Mrs. Holloway asked with a warm smile."But then, you've had a most harrowing experience. How in the world didyou get in the river so late at night?"
The strange lad did not rise to this bait, but allowed the question toremain unanswered.
"You haven't told us your name yet," Mrs. Holloway reminded him.
"Jacques," he answered after a long hesitation.
"Why, that's a French name, isn't it? Jacques--what?"
Again the boy did not answer, merely staring at her with eyes which helda troubled expression.
"Never mind," said Mrs. Holloway. "If you don't feel like answeringquestions, I won't press you. Later on perhaps you'll tell us aboutyourself."
She sat by the couch for a few minutes and then as Mr. Suell came in withDr. Redfield, retired to talk to the Cub leader again.
"It's no use--I couldn't get a word out of him," she confessed. "My guessis that he is foreign-born. And his first name, Jacques, would indicateit."
"None of the Cubs ever have seen him before," Mr. Hatfield remarked. "Aslip of paper was found in his pocket bearing the name Skeleton Island."
"Then he may live there."
"Possibly," Mr. Hatfield conceded. "However, the island belongs toJonathan Manheim. I've never heard of anyone staying there except acaretaker who looks after the property."
"What's to be done with the boy?"
"We'll have to try to find his people. Possibly he's a runaway. In thatcase, he may refuse to tell us the name of his parents or where he camefrom. It may take a day or two to get his background."
"I'll be glad to have him stay at my home tonight."
"I'd figured on taking him with me," Mr. Hatfield replied. "That is, ifthe doctor approves. Let's see what he has to say."
Dr. Redfield had completed his examination of the boy and was preparingto leave the Cave. Not wishing to discuss the patient in his presence, hejoined the Cub leader and Mrs. Holloway outside on the platform.
"What's the verdict, doctor?" Mr. Hatfield inquired.
"Oh, he should be all right by tomorrow morning," the doctor answered."He's suffering a little from shock, but nothing serious. Mr. Suell toldme the boy was found on the beach and apparently had become exhaustedfrom a long swim."
"That's the way we figured it out. He's told us nothing."
"The boy has no serious injuries," Dr. Redfield continued. "In examininghim, I did find several bruises on his legs and back."
"What would you say was the cause, doctor?"
"I couldn't be certain, but offhand I would think he had been beaten."
"Then our theory that he's a runaway may be right after all. By the way,doctor, the boy can be moved safely? I thought I'd take him to my homefor the night."
"He'll be all right if he doesn't exert himself," the doctor replied."Keep him warm and quiet. If you need me in the morning, telephone andI'll make a more complete examination."
After the doctor had gone, Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs prepared to close upthe Cave for the night. Deciding to leave the treasure chest buried onthe beach, the boys voted to resume the interrupted hunt at their nextweekly meeting.
Mrs. Holloway served sandwiches, chocolate and cookies to all the Cubs.Jacques refused to eat anything but did accept another cup of hotbeverage.
"Now let's all sing the Cub pledge before we leave," Mr. Hatfieldproposed.
The boys gathered around and to the tune of America, warbled:
"'Cub friendships, pure and deep, We promise we will keep Our pledge to thee; We will honor and obey Akela all the way And on that twelfth birthday Good Scouts we'll be!'"
At the end of the song, all the Cubs gave the salute, two fingers raisedto their foreheads. Then the meeting began to break up.
"Brad, if you and Dan will stay here with Jacques, I'll go home for mycar," the Cub leader said. "Then we can get him down the stairs anddirectly into the automobile. It shouldn't take me long."
"We'll be glad to wait," Dan offered eagerly.
After Mr. Hatfield had gone, the Cubs and their fathers began to driftoff home. Soon only Mrs. Holloway, her son Midge, Brad and Dan remained.
"I'll wait for Mr. Hatfield," the Den Mother said. "He should be comingsoon."
"I see a car parking now on the road across from the beach," Bradobserved. From where he stood near the Cave doorway, he could view theentire river front.
"Then I'll run along," Mrs. Holloway said, gathering up hamper andthermos bottles. "Good-bye, Jacques. I'll certainly see you tomorrow."
"_Merci_," he mumbled, using the French word for expressing thanks.
The Cave became deeply silent after Mrs. Holloway had gone. Brad and Danmoved close to the couch, studying their guest with curiosity.
"Jacques, can't you speak English, or don't you want to?" Brad askedpresently. "You're trying to hide something--isn't that it?"
Again the boy on the couch flashed them an inscrutable smile. But with agesture which plainly bespoke gratitude, he reached out to grasp Dan'shand.
His next act was deliberate. With two fingers extended along Dan's wrist,he squeezed the hand with a grip which unmistakably was the official Cubhandclasp.
"Gosh all fish hooks!" Dan exclaimed, staring down at the boy inastonishment. "You're a Cub too! And you never let out a hint of it whenthe others were here."
Jacques allowed the boy's hand to slip from his own. With a slight shrugand another mysterious smile, he closed his eyes and pretended to drowse.
Dan Carter, Cub Scout, and the River Camp Page 2
