Harold watched me as I read the note. I smiled when I finished.
“How he does blow,” I says.
But Harold wasn’t smiling. He had a serious look. “No,” he says, “there’s some truth in that note, because Rob Hood and me went to the cave, and Stoner is gone; so is most of his things. And we nearly got killed as we leaped acrost the deep pit.”
Harold watched my face closely, to see how I would take this thrilling news.
“How?” I asked.
Harold leaned over to me. “There’s somebody else there, bad as Stoner, or maybe worse,” he said.
“Did you see what he looks like?” I asked.
Harold shook his head. “We only saw an arm,” he answered, “just as I started to take the rope to swing acrost the chasm. Robby Hood pulled my sleeve and whispered something to me. I looked up, and halfway to where the rope was tied a long arm reached out of the darkness with a long knife in its hand, and slashed at the rope.”
I shivered, and Harold closed his eyes for a second. Then he says, “Hawkins, suppose I had started to swing acrost that pit before we saw that ugly arm reach out?”
“Ah,” I says, “you wouldn’t be here telling me about it, Harold.”
Harold shook his head. “It gets worse and worse,” he says. “Every time we think we have Stoner caught, he gets away; and every time he makes things more dangerous.”
I didn’t say anything to Harold on that, for I saw a red-and-yellow striped canoe coming down the river.
“I’ve got to meet Robby Hood,” says Harold. “I may want all the fellas to help me tomorrow.
“Whenever you are ready,” I says, “we will go with you.”
THURSDAY.—“Dick,” I says today, when our captain came down, “there’s some strange things going on in Stoner’s hiding place.”
And then I told Dick what Harold had told me. Dick listened very close. “Those two boys had better be careful,” he says. “They don’t know what traps Stoner will lay for them, and they are foolish to go into that cave, for it is the very place Stoner would like to have them.”
I nodded. “Yes,” I says, “but the Skinny Guy is with them, and he knows all the turns and twists inside the caves.”
Dick said that was so. “When does Harold want us fellas to help him?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “He said he would call us when he needed us.”
We waited all day for Harold or the Skinny Guy to show up, but we didn’t see a sign of them. Neither did we see the red-and-yellow striped canoe. That was what made me think that Stoner was really gone. If he had been around our bank or in the cliffs, Harold and Link would have been around sometime during the day. But they were not here. They were on the trail of Stoner, and Stoner’s trail was winding into a new land of schemes.
FRIDAY.—Lew Hunter got us all to practice some songs today, and while we were singing Harold came in the door, followed by skinny Link Lambert and Robby Hood.
Robby had the same cap with a feather in it, and strapped acrost his shoulder was a pair of field glasses. He carried his long spear in his hand. The three of them stood in the door, waiting until our song was ended.
After we stopped singing, Harold came forward. “Tomorrow,” he says, “we will make a try for Stoner. We found his tracks, and we think we can put our hands on him. We want to know if you boys are going to stand by us; there are about as many fellas in Stoner’s gang as there are in our houseboat club.”
Dick nodded his head. “Yes,” says our captain, “we are ready to do whatever you say, when you are ready.”
Harold and Robby Hood made a bow together, and turned and walked out.
Link stayed for a minute, and grinned at us. “Wait till you see the Stoner gang,” he says, “and wait till you see Stoner and Robby Hood meet.”
Then he turned and ran to catch up with Harold and Robby Hood.
SATURDAY.—Link Lambert was waiting on the riverbank for us this morning. “They sent me up to bring you fellas,” he says. “They came down early this morning.”
He pointed to the river, where there were a half dozen canoes and longboats tied together. “I brought enough boats for all,” says Link.
“Where do we go?” asks Dick Ferris.
“Down to the island, of course,” says Link. “Stoner has made his new hiding place down there.”
We didn’t say any more but got in our canoes, and down the river we went. When we reached the island we saw a little campfire on the bank, and Harold and Robby Hood were sitting there.
They were glad to see us so early, and we all got out and sat around the little ribbon of smoke that curled up from the sleepy little fire. Harold told us that they had trailed Stoner to the island, but that they were not able to find where he hides.
“He simply disappears,” says Harold, “and it seems very strange, for I followed him into a wild part of the island and through a thicket. When I went through the same thicket, I reached a clearing, but Stoner had disappeared.”
We asked him and Robby a lot of questions, but most of them they could not answer. Link took the whole bunch of us up to his pop’s houseboat for lunch, and we ate biskits and bacon, and it was good. We almost forgot about Stoner.
But after we left the houseboat, Jerry Moore said he was going to hunt a nice strong sapling to make himself a shinny stick. There is so much wildwood down on the island that a fella can get plenty of dandy shinny sticks.
Bill Darby found some sassafras roots, and he said it was good stuff to chew, but I tasted a piece and dern if it wasn’t bitter.
But all of a sudden I saw fellas running for a certain place in the woods, and of course I had to follow. When I came up to where they all stood, I saw Robby Hood have his glasses to his eyes, pointed to a certain tree. “Stand back fellas,” says Robby Hood. “I saw him first; he is my meat.”
I couldn’t see anything in the tree, but Robby handed me the glasses. “Hold these, Hawkins,” he says, “I might hurt them. Stay here till I come back.”
Robby Hood ran off. The fellas were all chatting about Stoner’s Boy and how reckless Robby Hood was. I put the glasses up and gazed through them. Ah, it was a strange bird that roosted in that tree. It was a gray coat and cape, a broad hat, and a face half covered by a handkachif. It was Stoner’s Boy, and he too had a pair of field glasses, but he wasn’t watching me; he was watching something that was moving swiftly through the tall grass. He was watching Robby Hood.
“Come on,” I say, “us boys ought to be right in back of Robby Hood.”
“Sure,” says Dick, and we all started through the tangle woods. We halted behind a clump of small trees about forty paces from the tree in which was Stoner’s Boy. We saw Robby Hood standing beneath the tree.
“Come down,” he hollered. “Come down, you gray shadow, and fight fair for once in your life.”
“Go away,” hollered Stoner’s Boy. “I don’t want any trouble with you.”
“No,” says Robby Hood, “you ain’t got the courage; you like to fight people from behind their back. You know you can’t lick me, you gray sneak.”
I saw Robby Hood strip off his purty purple jacket and throw his hat down on the ground, and start to climb the tree.
Quick as a wink Stoner drew something from behind his back. It was the bow and arrow box. He drew an arrow from the purty pearl-and-ivory box, which was strapped to his shoulder, and stuck it in the bow. He drew the string wide, and pointed it down the tree.
“Try to climb up here, and I’ll let this fly at you,” he shouted.
Robby Hood stopped. “You coward,” he said.
But just then Stoner’s foot slipped from the limb on which it rested, and in grabbing for another limb to catch himself, he dropped the bow. It fell at the feet of Robby Hood.
But Robby didn’t see it. He gave a little cry and started to climb the tree. Stoner saw Robby would be upon him in a few seconds. And what did he do? Why, that gray ghost turned and swung himself onto ano
ther limb that hung farther out. Like a big monkey he swung from one limb to another, until he swung himself into the next tree.
“TRY TO CLIMB UP HERE AND I’LL LET THIS FLY LAT YOU.”
Robby Hood didn’t understand what he was doing at first. But I did. Stoner was on his way, and he was afraid of Robert Hood. Robby shinned up that tree and turned to see how Stoner had gone. When he saw the gray ghost three or four trees away at this time, he turned and hollered down the tree, “Run, you fellas, and see where he comes down. Follow him Link; find out where he disappears to.”
We started off. Robby started down the tree. I pushed ahead of the other fellas. I saw Stoner come down to the ground about a hundred yards away and dart into the bushes. “Come on,” I hollered.
We all flew. By this time Robby Hood had reached the ground and was coming behind us. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled under the bushes where Stoner had disappeared. There was a large clear place, covered with weeds, but no Stoner’s Boy could I see. Only weeds, and an old tree that had been struck by lightning.
I put Robby’s glasses to my eyes and gazed all around. Stoner was gone. He had disappeared. Robby came up just as I turned around. “The other fellas refused to crawl under,” he says, “but it’s just as well, because I knew Stoner would be gone when you reached this place.”
I looked very much puzzled. But Robby only looked tired. “Where did he go so quickly?” I asked.
Robby shook his head. “Don’t ask me now,” he answered, “because I don’t know. But I’ll tell you to ask me someday, and I’ll give you an answer.”
Harold crawled through the undergrowth. “Has he gotten away again?” he asked.
Robby nodded. “Same old story, Hal,” he says.
Harold grunted. “Well,” he says, “we might as well go back home, and take a swim in Banklick Creek.”
Which we did.
CHAPTER 26
What the Spy Saw
MONDAY.—Us boys made up our mind to make another trip to the island, to try to discover how Stoner’s Boy disappeared so mysteriously last week when we chased him. Dick Ferris talked to Harold this morning and promised him that all of us boys would help him and Robby Hood as long as they wanted us to.
“Fine,” said Harold. “You boys are coming round nicely, as I expected you would. It doesn’t matter how long it takes to get this gray ghost; all of the boys must stick to me.”
“We will,” said Dick, “just let me know when you want us, and I’ll have the boys ready.”
Harold came over to where I stood. “Hawkins,” he said, “I’ll need you for a spy.”
I grinned. “I ain’t much at that kind of work, Harold,” I said.
“That makes no difference,” he answered. “Take these glasses.”
He handed me a fine pair of field glasses. “Where did you get these?” I asked.
Harold smiled at me. “They come from Massachusetts, where Ollie and I go to school,” he said. “I had lots of use for them already.”
I patted the glasses and said, “They will help me spy. I’ll search out every corner of the island for you.”
Harold shook his head. “Robby Hood will take care of all the spying on the island,” he said. “I want you to watch here—”
He pointed to the cliff. I looked at him in supprise. “Has Stoner come back to his old hiding place then?” I asked.
“No,” said Harold, “but something else has come back, and Robby thinks it has something to do with Stoner.”
“All right,” I said, “leave it to me.”
Harold started to walk away, but he turned. “Listen, Hawkins,” he said. “I am going to meet Robby Hood. We don’t want you to do anything until we send you word.”
“Who will you send?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Harold answered, “but you will know the messenger is from us when he hands you this.”
Harold drew something from his pocket and held it out to me. It was the point of an arrow—one of Robby Hood’s arrows.
“All right,” I said, “I understand.”
“Be very careful, Hawkins,” said Harold. “Don’t run any risks.” He shook my hand. Then he was gone.
TUESDAY.—Right after the meeting in the houseboat today I snuck away from the fellas, and taking my field glasses, struck out for the cliff. As I passed through the hollow, I happened to look toward the old shack. I saw Robby Hood and Harold sitting inside, with a big sheet of paper spread out on the table before them. I skipped past without being noticed, but I was awful curious to know what they were planning.
I reached the cliff path and went up slow. There wasn’t a soul around the place. Everything was so quiet, except the birds in the bushes, and a few old crows that had a nook in a hollow rock overlooking the river. I chased them out and sat myself upon the ledge of rock. I thought to myself: “Here is a good place for somebody to take a shot at me with a stone.” So I hurried around and gathered a lot of bushes from the top of the cliff and piled them around me on the ledge, so I would be hidden from sight. Then I lay flat on my stomach, and put my glasses to my eyes.
Oh boy! what a fine view. I could see across the lower bend of the river, and clean down to Seven Willows Island. I made out the houseboat in which the Skinny Guy and his pop lived. I moved my glasses slowly around the island. How lonesome it seemed. Not a soul. But yes, there was one. I finally had my glasses fixed on a lonesome fisherman sitting on the bank near the fancy houseboat. It was the Skinny Guy’s pop.
I lay there for an hour, watching. This is fine, I said to myself. I will come up here every day and watch until I see something. But just then I did see something, and it was a steamboat. I watched her as she came into view from below the bend. It was the Hudson Lee. I could read her nameplate through the glasses. I lay there fifteen minits longer, watching the old river palace plow her way up the stream. What a purty old boat she was. How my mind went back to the time when a little girl on that old steamboat made all us fellas jealous of one another. Little Rosalind Lee. Purty little gal she was, and there wasn’t a fella in the bunch she liked better than the Skinny Guy.
I watched the old Hudson Lee through my glasses, until she turned the upper bend of the river. Then I said to myself, “Tomorrow, Hawkins, you can have another fine time watching the river.”
So I snuck down off the ledge, and let the fake bushes stay there. I heard the crows coming back as soon as I left the ledge. And as I went down the cliff path, I heard the black things quarreling with each other because of the bushes I had put there to cover up their meeting place.
WEDNESDAY.—I was sitting in the houseboat this morning writing in my seckatary book, when in come the Skinny Guy.
“Hello, Link,” I said.
He grinned but didn’t make a reply. Instead he fished inside his shirt for something and brought out his hand holding something for me to take.
“Here,” he said, “you know what this is for.”
“Ah,” I said, “an arrowhead. You been sent by Harold and Robby Hood to bring me a message.”
“Righto,” said Link, “they got an idee that Stoner is not down here. Maybe he got caught up in Watertown; maybe he is gone away on a vacation. They don’t know which, but he has got somebody else watching for him.
“They seen a strange figger last night; this morning Stoner’s gang showed up all of a sudden on the island, but they didn’t stay long; they went up the river in the gray launch.”
“Ah,” I said, “the gray launch is being kept on the island.”
Link shook his head. “If it was,” he said, “we wouldn’t be so worried, but we looked everywhere and couldn’t find it.”
I rubbed my chin and thought for a few seconds. “Golly, Link,” I said, “us boys don’t know what is libel to happen to us.”
Link grinned. “Here is the message,” he said. “Robby Hood wrote it so I wouldn’t forget a word.”
He reached for the arrowhead and took it out of my hand. He held i
t to the window where the light could strike it, and tried to start reading it. He turned it over, then upside down, and then at last he said, “Darn if I can read this kinda writing; here, Hawkins, read it if you can.”
I took the arrowhead and looked. Upon the flat sides there was pencil marks, and after studying it for a minit, I found out where the writing commenced, and read this:
To Seckatary Hawkins, Houseboat-on-the-bank. Dear Seck. Keep your glasses pointed on the river, from the island to the cliff. We got reason to think that there is some funny work going on, by a fella who is as bad as Stoner. It is one of Stoner’s pals, but he is strong as a mule and fast as a deer. Link will tell you what signals to look for.
R. Hood.
Harold Court.
I finished the reading and looked up. “What are the signals?” I asked.
Link grinned. “Look,” he said, “when I stand this way, it means that you must be on the watch, because Stoner’s pal is coming your way.”
Link stood on one foot, held on the window sash with one hand, and held the other leg and other arm out like the letter X.
“So,” I said, “that means this tough guy is coming after me?”
Link nodded and grinned. “You’re quick to catch on,” he said. “You watch for that signal, but as long as you see me standing natural, or sitting down quiet, you will know things are running smooth for you.”
I watched Link as he ran down the bank. Then I thought about the signal again, and I says to myself, “Dern if this ain’t a peck of foolishness I can’t understand.”
THURSDAY.—I watched from my secret place on the cliff all afternoon yesterday, and nothing happened. It was nice and cool up there, though, and I enjoyed watching the boats on the river. This afternoon I went up again, but the river seemed so lonesome; not one steamboat came past. I trained my field glasses on the island to take a look. I saw three fellas and a man standing by the fancy houseboat where Skinny and his pop live. I knew right away they were Link and his pop and Harold and Robby Hood.
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