The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  “I’m thinking of doing as the ither byes do,—stroll through the woods on the lookout fur ostriches, kangaroos, monkeys or anything that turns up.”

  “Good! that’s me; I’ll go with you!”

  “Who said ye would?” asked the disgusted Mike, as Alvin winked at Chester.

  “I did; didn’t you hear me?”

  “But ye don’t know where I’m going.”

  “That makes no difference; I’m with you straight through.”

  The chance was too good for Alvin and Chester to let slip. The face of the former brightened with hypocritical comradeship.

  “Now isn’t that fine? Mike, you’re in luck.”

  “As Larry Bergen remarked whin he found he had one finger lift after the pistol busted in his hand.”

  “How nice it will be to have Butler with you the whole day!” Chester was mean enough to add.

  “Aren’t you three going together?” asked the surprised interloper.

  “We are particular as to our company,” said Alvin; “Chester and I travel together while Mike goes alone,—that is to say he would do so if you had not come along in time.”

  “That’s me! I’m always glad to oblige.”

  “Thim chaps,” said Mike, who was too game to wince though none the less resolved to baffle his chums, “are two babes in the wood; it will be mighty kind of ye, Butler, to go along and kaap an eye on ’em.”

  “Now, don’t you see there are two of them, and it will be the same with you and me, which is the right way to divide up? Just the idea, old chap!” And Butler whacked the knee of Mike, who made a grimace at the grinning Alvin and Chester. “Tell you what, Mike, I took a shine to you from the first; we must be pals.”

  “You’ve hit it, Butler; we shall be glad to loan you Mike whenever you want him.”

  “That will be all the time,” roared the interloper, “won’t it, Mike?”

  “It begins to look that way,” was the lugubrious response of the victim.

  Alvin and Chester rose to their feet, the former remarking:

  “We’ll see you at supper. Take good care of Mike, who is so innocent that he is sure to run into trouble unless you hold him back. Mike, be sure to obey him just as you do us.”

  And the two stepped from the porch and set off in the direction of the cabin of Uncle Elk, looking back in time to see their friend shake his fist at them.

  “It looks as if I was catched,” mused Mike, “as the man said whin he stepped into a bear trap, but I’ll aven up matters wid thim before they’re much older.”

  “Isn’t it time we started?” asked Butler, after the others had disappeared.

  “Yis,” replied Mike standing up, “but I can’t depart widout me buckthorn cane. Bide here till I go into the house and git the same.”

  “I know where you left it leaning against the wall; I’ll fetch it.”

  And before he could be anticipated, Butler darted through the open door and brought out the heavy stick.

  “Always ready to do what I can for you, Mike; anything else?”

  “Yis; I’ll be obleeged if ye’ll chase after thim spalpeens and ask Alvin Landon to send me that five dollars he borrered yesterday.”

  “Of course; they haven’t got far and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  “Don’t let him sneak out of it, but hang on till he coughs up.”

  “You bet I will!”

  The obliging youth scooted off the porch and after the couple who had disappeared only a few moments before. Mike waited only until he was beyond sight, when he hurried in the opposite direction and dived among the trees, as if he were a criminal fleeing from an officer of the law.

  Meanwhile the obliging Butler made haste to do as requested. He was fleet of foot, and had no trouble in overtaking Alvin and Chester, who were walking at a moderate pace, made still more moderate by their merriment over the clever way in which they had gotten the best of Mike.

  “It isn’t often we can do it,” said Alvin, “but we caught him fair that time. Hoke will stick like a leech to him—hello! what’s up now?” exclaimed the lad, as the sound of footsteps caused both to look around.

  “Gracious!” gasped Chester, “it can’t be Mike has persuaded him to go with us!”

  “Hold on a minute!” called Butler.

  The two halted and Alvin asked reproachfully:

  “Why have you deserted Mike, when he wants you so badly?”

  “I haven’t deserted him; he and I are going to have a day’s ramble together.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “He asked me to run after you and get the five dollars he loaned you yesterday.”

  “Chest, have you got any money with you?” asked the astonished Alvin; “I have only a Canadian quarter.”

  “I haven’t even that. I did the same as you, and left all my funds in the house.”

  “You see what Mike is up to; it’s a trick of his to get rid of this fellow.”

  Addressing the latter, Alvin added:

  “That’s what I call a low down piece of business; why didn’t he ask us when we were at the house?”

  “I reckon he didn’t think of it; hurry up, please; I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

  “Well, you can’t help it, for we haven’t a dollar between us. Hurry back to him and say for us that we shall settle with him tonight when you and he come back.”

  “Honest now, is that the best you can do?”

  “It certainly is; if you don’t hurry Mike will grow tired of waiting for you.”

  Alarmed at the probability, Butler dashed away like a deer, while Alvin and Chester hurried in the other direction with a view of being out of reach should the young man return.

  But Hoke did not come back. He had set his heart on rejoining his chosen friend and bent his energies to that end.

  After walking briskly for a half mile, Alvin and Chester slowed down and took matters more easily. They were so deep in the woods that they could see nothing of the lake, but they had become familiar with the route and were in no fear of going astray. When quite near the cabin of Uncle Elk, they saw three other Boy Scouts wandering among the trees, one of them with note book in hand. He was making entries and all were so engaged in the pleasant task that it was easy for Alvin and Chester to avoid being seen as they changed their course. Soon after they came in sight of the log structure where their old friend made his home. Halting while still among the trees, their position gave them a view of the front of the building and the upper part of the path which wound its way down to the lake. The latch-string was hanging outside the door with everything as still and motionless as the tomb.

  “Well, now that we have arrived,” remarked Alvin in an undertone, “what are we going to do?”

  “I don’t see that anything is to be gained by calling upon Uncle Elk, but, if he catches sight of us, we shall have to drop in on him. He is sure to treat us well.”

  “Hello! we are not the only ones,” said Chester, as he and his chum stepped back behind the trunk of a large white oak.

  The heads and shoulders of two men came into sight as they walked slowly up the path from the landing which they had evidently reached in a boat. A few paces brought them into plain sight, one directly behind the other and approaching the door of the cabin.

  The first thought of the boys was that they were the tramps who had been making nuisances of themselves in the neighborhood for the last few days, but a second look made it clear they were not, for nothing in their appearance suggested the wandering vagrant. The striking fact about them was they were so similar in looks that it was evident they were twin brothers. The similarity extended to their clothing. They wore straw hats set well back on their heads, coarse shirts without tie or waistcoat, and dark trousers whose bottoms were tucked into a pair of boots that did not quite reach their knees. The two were of sandy complexion and each had a tuft of yellow whiskers on his chin, which was of the retreating order.

  “They must be the men M
ike heard chuckling together last night, though he did not see them,” was the conclusion of Chester, and his companion agreed with him.

  “And they seem as much pleased as ever.”

  Both wore a broad grin, and the one in front, half turning his head, said something which caused the other to laugh out loud.

  Before the visitors reached the door, it was drawn inward by Uncle Elk, who appeared, staff in hand, as if about to start on a tramp through the woods. At sight of the young men, he paused and called:

  “I am glad to see you, Asa and Bige; I was about to hunt you up, but this saves me the trouble; come in.”

  He shook the hand of each in turn and the three passed from sight, the host closing the door behind them.

  “And now what shall we do?” asked the perplexed Alvin; “we have seen two strangers go into the cabin and they are talking together, but we can’t hear a word that is said nor learn a thing.”

  “That remains to be seen; let’s follow them, as we have the right to do so long as the latchstring hangs outside.”

  This proposal would have been carried out had not the necessity been removed by the persons in whom they were interested. The door unexpectedly opened and the trio came out, Uncle Elk leading, staff in hand, and the others following in Indian file. They passed down the path toward the lake and were soon shut from sight by the intervening trees and undergrowth.

  Alvin and Chester were sure their presence had not been noted, and they held back until safe against being seen. Then they moved stealthily down the trail to a point where they had a clear view of the smooth sheet of water. A hundred yards away, a small canoe was gliding at moderate speed toward the other side, its course such that it would reach shore—unless the direction was changed—some distance west of Dr. Spellman’s home. In the boat were seated Uncle Elk and the couple whom he had addressed as Asa and Bige, one of them swinging the paddle with the grace of a professional.

  Keeping out of sight, the two youths watched the course of the boat, which gradually veered to the left.

  “Uncle Elk has left his own canoe on the shore and we can use it if we wish to follow them,” said Alvin.

  “I don’t think anything would be more foolish. In fact, Al, it strikes me that so far our part of the business is a failure. Those folks are going into the territory of Mike and I hope he will have better success than we. He can’t have less.”

  All the lads could do for the present was to watch and wait. The canoe grew smaller as it receded, and finally disappeared under the overhanging limbs and vegetation at a spot which the boys agreed was either where Mike Murphy had heard Asa and Bige laughing the night before, or very near the spot. And, admitting that such was the fact, what did it all amount to?

  CHAPTER X

  A Sudden Separation

  When Mike Murphy hurried off the opposite end of the porch of the bungalow, his single purpose was to rid himself of Hoke Butler, who had set his heart upon keeping him company for the day. It was a happy thought thus to send the youth to collect an imaginary debt from Alvin Landon, and it would seem could scarcely fail of accomplishing the end in view.

  “The spalpeen can thravel a good deal faster then mesilf, owing to the lingth of his legs, but I’ve got too good a start for him to find me among the traas.”

  Mike still walked fast, often glancing behind and more and more relieved that he failed to gain sight of a living person, or rather of him whom he dreaded to see.

  “Hello, Mike, where are you?”

  The youth appealed to almost leaped from the ground, for the familiar voice sounded much too near for comfort.

  “I’m here just now,” muttered Mike, “but I don’t intind to stay. Worrah, worrah, is there no way of shaking ye loose?”

  The shout was repeated twice and then ceased. It looked as if Hoke believed he was too far separated from his friend to reach him by calling, though he was not likely to give up the search for some time to come. Mike changed his course and in doing so came near losing himself. It was impossible in the circumstances to go far astray, but he was likely to waste a good deal of time.

  Coming to a halt he took his bearings. He knew he was well to the westward of the bungalow and not far from the lake. He was sure also, after noting the position of the sun, of the course he should follow to reach the body of water. His plan was to keep along shore until he came to the western end of the lake, around which he would make his way if necessary, returning by the northern bank which would take him past the home of Dr. Spellman. The conviction, however, was strong with the young man that he would not be called upon to travel that far before gaining the knowledge which was drawing him onward as the steel draws the magnet.

  When he had traveled far enough to bring him to the lake and still failed to catch the gleam of its surface, he halted once more and stared around.

  “If I’m lost agin I’ll hire some of the byes to lead me about by the hand, fur I ain’t fit to travel alone—hello! there’s one of ’em, that I’ll question without letting him know I’m a stray lamb.”

  He had a glimpse of a moving body almost directly ahead, and knowing it was one of the scouts he called:

  “I wish to remark, me friend, that it’s a foine day; if ye agraa wid me I shall be plaised to have ye signerfy the same.”

  “Why, Mike, I’m so glad to see you again; you ain’t mad because I got lost?”

  “Oh, not a bit, as Jim O’Toole said whin the sheriff apologized for shooting him on the wing.”

  And Mike extended his hand to Hoke Butler as he came grinningly forward.

  “How was it ye missed me?” asked Mike innocently.

  “I’ll be hanged if I can tell; I hurried back after talking to Alvin and ought to have found you, but somehow or other I didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t ye holler?”

  “I nearly split my throat calling to you.”

  “Strange! I wonder if I’m getting deaf.”

  “Gracious! I hope not; don’t say that or you’ll worry me awfully.”

  “Did Alvin hand ye the five dollars?”

  “Not a bit of it. Say, Mike, they must be blamed poor, for they had only a Canadian quarter between them. I don’t think they amount to much.”

  Mike couldn’t stand this slur upon his chums.

  “Let me tell ye something that will make ye open yer eyes. Alvin Landon’s father is one of the richest men in New York, and Chester’s is almost as wealthy. They are worth millions upon millions of dollars, and the byes have all the money they want, but they are not such fules as you and me and don’t throw it away, though they give a good deal of it to poor folks. So ye may rist aisy on that score, friend Hoke.”

  “Gee! I never suspected that. They don’t put on any more airs than the poorest of the Boy Scouts.”

  “Which the same shows their sinse; they’ve always been that way and always will be. But this isn’t tending to bus’ness. Do ye wish to keep company wid me till night?”

  “You bet! I’m going to stick to you like a burr; I hope you haven’t any hard feelings on account of my losing you for a little while. I really didn’t mean it.”

  “It’s mesilf that has no hard feelings, but I was thinking that if we don’t get back to the clubhouse till night ye will be obliged to lose your dinner.”

  “I don’t like that much, but I’ll stand it for your sake. I’ll even things up at the supper table. A Boy Scout should learn to suffer when it can’t be helped.”

  “I’ve found out the same,” replied Mike with a significance which his companion did not catch; “I hope we shan’t starve to death.”

  “No danger of that,” remarked Hoke, not absolutely certain that some such calamity did not threaten them.

  Mike Murphy like a philosopher made up his mind to accept the inevitable. It seemed to be decreed by fate that he should have this young man as a companion throughout at least this day, so what was the use of kicking against it? Besides, it was not impossible that where there was so much eager
ness on the part of Hoke to help, he might be able to do so in the strange task Mike had laid out for himself.

  One pleasing fact about the intruder was that he never lost his way. He pointed out the direction in which the lake lay and Mike took care not to let him know he himself had believed that an altogether different course led to it. Pausing on the shore they looked out upon one of the most beautiful and romantic bodies of water to be found in a region which abounds with them. Both saw the canoe laden deeply with three men which was heading for a point to the westward of Dr. Spellman’s home. The boys studied it closely, but the distance was too great to identify the old man, and his companions were strangers.

  Mike had told young Butler nothing of his experience of the day before, nor did he do so now. Whatever Hoke was able to do in the way of aid he could accomplish as well while ignorant as if he knew everything.

  “Would it be too far, Hoke, for ye to walk wid me round the end of the lake to the spot where the canoe wint from sight?”

  “It’s a pretty good walk, Mike, but it’s nothing so long as I am with you. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to please you.”

  “I could, but I’ll not mintion it,” grinned Mike as they resumed their course with Hoke in the lead.

  The forenoon was half gone when they came to the western end of the lake and changed their course so as to follow the curvature that would take them to the northern shore. All the time they were in sight of the water, which they examined at intervals in quest of other boats. While the home of Dr. Spellman, as we remember, was invisible from the lake, it was easy to locate it by the thin wisp of smoke which filtered through the tree-tops. The same could have been said of Uncle Elk’s cabin had there been any fire burning.

  “I am thinking, Mike,” remarked Hoke some time later, “that if you intend to go clean round the lake we haven’t any time to throw away.”

  “We kin take all day and the night, should the same be nicissary, but there’s no call to hurry and if ye find yersilf growing weary, ye have me permission to turn back whin the notion takes ye.”

  “We have gone so far that I don’t see much choice in taking either direction. I say, Mike, isn’t that something queer ahead of us?”