CHAPTER III
THE CABIN IN THE SWAMP
When George reached the rear of the tent he saw a crouching figurethere. A hole had been cut in the cloth, and the fellow was gazinginto the tent. He was dressed in woodsman's attire, leather jacketand leggins and fur cap. The gold rings in his ears quivered andglistened as the light of the fire struck them.
As George rounded the tent the spy turned and ran for the forest.Without a thought as to the ultimate result, George followed alongbehind. For some distance the lad kept pace with the mysteriousvisitor, but, of course, it was impossible for him to do so for anygreat length of time, as the fugitive was well versed in woodcraft,while George was not.
After a time George lost sight of the fellow entirely, but couldstill keep track of him by the noise he made in passing through thethicket. It was quite evident that the intruder now believed thatpursuit, had entirely ceased, for he made his way more leisurelythrough the swampy growth, and seemed to pay no attention whateverto the sounds of his passage.
Using great caution, the boy finally gained the hummock and stoodlooking at the dark bulk of a log cabin which stood in the center.He listened for a long time but all was silent inside. Presentlyhe circled the place and came to a small opening which was morelike a loop-hole than a window. There was a glass pane here, andthrough it he saw that there was a fire on the inside.
By this time the lad was shivering with cold, not having taken thetime to provide himself with heavy clothing before leaving the campin pursuit of the spy. As he glanced through the glazed opening hesaw a great fire of logs blazing in a rudely made fireplace at oneend of the room. He moved on until he found a door.
"Perhaps the owner of this log mansion will think I'm pretty promptin returning his call," the lad mused as he knocked softly at thedoor. "But, all the same, I'm going to give him the pleasure of mycompany until I can get warm."
There was no response to the knock, and so George opened the doorand entered. There was no one in front of the fire; no one in anyof the rude chairs. The boy stood looking about the room for amoment and then walked back to three bunks fastened against thewall, one above the other.
When he reached the front of the sleeping places an exclamation ofalarm came from a bundle of furs and blankets on the lower bunk anda boy's frightened face gazed up at him. The boy sat observing theother with evident suspicion for a moment, until his eyes caughtsight of the Boy Scout medals which adorned the sleeve of the lad'scoat.
Then he extended an arm in the full salute of the Boy Scouts ofAmerica, and sat back with a grin on his face to note the result.
"Beaver Patrol; Chicago," he said directly.
"I know you," George said with an exclamation of surprise. "You'reThede Carson, and you're about the toughest little wharf rat inChicago!"
"That's a nice recommend for a patrol leader to give one of hisscouts," grinned the boy. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"The last time I saw you," George said, smiling at the memory, "youwere diving into the South Branch to keep out of sight of a policeboat."
"I remember that," grinned Thede. "They said I'd been swipingbananas up in Gambler's alley, and that wasn't true."
"Well, how in the name of all the seven wonders of the world didyou get into the Hudson Bay country?" demanded George.
"Old Finklebaum," answered Thede.
"Old Finklebaum?" repeated George. "Do you mean the old Shylockwho does business under the three balls down on State street? Youcan't mean that he had anything to do with your appearance here?"
"You bet he did have something to do with my being here!" Thedeinsisted. "You see, it's just this way: Old Finklebaum says to meone day, 'I'll take the hair off Ikey's head for selling thatLittle Brass God!'"
George gave a quick start of surprise at the mention of the veryarticle the Boy Scouts had come to the Hudson Bay country in questof, but checked himself in a second.
"What did he have a--a--what did you say it was?--if he didn't wantto sell it?" asked the boy in assumed surprise.
"He did want to sell it up to that very day," was the reply, "butno one wanted to buy it. Then a man came into the shop and saidhe'd give a thousand dollars for it on sight. So Finklebaum,having the Little Brass God within a foot of his hawkbill nose,takes the man's address and says he'll let him know if he hearsanything about the thing in demand. Finklebaum thinks that if theman'll pay one thousand dollars for it, he'll pay five, and that'swhy he loses out."
George's interest was now so intense that the boy ceased speakingand sat regarding him steadily for a moment.
"What do you know about the Little Brass God?" he demanded.
"Nothing," replied George. "Never saw it!"
"Seems to me you're pretty much interested in it, though,"commented the boy, rising from the bunk and taking a seat beforethe fire.
"I was thinking about Old Finklebaum cheating himself by gettingtoo gay," answered George. "Go on, and tell me about it!"
"So when this man who offers the thousand dollars leaves the shop,"Thede continued, "Finklebaum chases out to a dealer in antiques tomake inquiries about the Little Brass God. I guess he thinks it'ssome East India idol, or something of that kind, and that hisfortune is made."
"Supposing it should be an East India idol!" exclaimed George,
"It may be, for all I know," Thede replied. "Anyhow, while oldFinklebaum was out trying to find out how much his Little Brass Godwas worth, little Ikey sold it for a ten dollar note."
"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" laughed George. "I'll bet there was a merryold time when Finklebaum returned and found the ten dollar note inthe drawer and the Little Brass God gone."
"Such a racket as never was!" declared Thede, laughing at therecollection of the scene. "I was in the shop," he went on,"getting out some articles Mother Murphy had been borrowing moneyon, and heard all that took place."
"Go on and tell me about it."
"Old Finklebaum said he was just plumb ruined. He said he'd snatchIkey bald-headed, and do a lot of other things to him, if he didn'twalk right out into State street and bring back that Little BrassGod. Holy Moses! You ought to have seen how scared Little Ikeywas!"
"Could he describe the man who bought the Little Brass God?"inquired George in a tone intended to be indifferent.
"Oh, yes!" replied Thede. "Ikey said the man wore a leather jacketwith a red belt around the waist, a fur cap and rings in his ears.So Ikey was sent out to find the fellow, and I asked Old Finklebaumwhat he'd give me if I'd bring back the Little Brass God. He sayshe'll give me a hundred dollars the minute I put it in his hands,and I ducked down State street in search of this gink with therings in his ears."
"And didn't find him?"
"If I had you wouldn't find me up here in this beastly country,"replied Thede. "That is," the boy went on, "if I had found himwith the Little Brass God in his possession."
"So you really did find him?" questioned George.
"Yes, I ran across him in a saloon down near Twelfth street, andstuck to him like a bulldog to a cat's back for two days andnights."
"Why didn't you go and tell Finklebaum where he was, and let him dothe watching? That's what you should have done!"
"Not for mine!" answered the other. "Old Finklebaum would havetaken the case out of my hands, and fooled me out of my hundredsimoleons. I follows this gink around until he becomes sociableand sort of adopts me. I gets into his furnished room down onEldridge court and searches it during his absence. There ain't noLittle Brass God there!"
'"Did you ever get your eyes on it?" asked George.
"Never!" was the reply. "But he acts funny all the time, and Ithink he's got it hidden. When he gets ready to come back to theHudson Bay country he asks me how I'd like to come up north withhim and learn to be a trapper, so I says that if there's anythingon earth I want to be it's a trapper, and I come up here, makinghim think I'm after fur, when all the time I'm after the LittleBrass God."
"Are you su
re the man you followed is the man who brought the toy?"asked George, "You might have picked up the wrong man, you know."
"No I didn't!" replied Thede. "I've heard this man, Pierre,muttering and talking in his sleep, and I know he has the LittleBrass God hidden. I'll go back to Chicago some day with it in mypossession and Old Finklebaum will pay me a couple of thousand orhe'll never get hold of it again! Won't it be a great story totell the boys on State street about the times I'm having up here."
The door opened and Pierre entered, anger flashing from his eyes.
Boy Scouts in Northern Wilds; Or, The Signal from the Hills Page 3
