CHAPTER XIV. FIGURING IT OUT.
"Told you so!" Bumpus could not refrain from saying, in triumph.
Thad turned on him.
"Suppose you let us know what the fellow looked like, Bumpus?" heremarked. "If we happen on him in any of our wanderings, it might be justas well that we knew the kind of customer we have to deal with. Can youdescribe him?"
"I'm afraid not, Thad," replied the fat boy, a little dejectedly. "Yousee, just as quick as he caught sight of me turning my eyes up there, heducked. And all I saw was that he had a face, and a kinder hairy one atthat."
"Oh! you mean he wore a beard?" asked the other.
"Sure he did," was the reply. "That's what made me wonder whether itmight have been a monkey of some sort, even if I didn't say as much toGiraffe when he was kidding me. But I happened to remember that_ordinary_ monkeys don't grow up here in Maine," and the suggestive lookhe shot in the direction of Davy made that comrade sneer; as though hehad grown hardened to being classed with the tree-climbing tribe, justbecause he could hang by his toes from a limb, or go up to the tiptop ofany tree that he had ever seen.
"Well, he came, and he saw; but he didn't conquer, not by a long sight,"observed Step Hen. "He didn't like our looks one little bit, fellows, andmade tracks out of here. What d'ye s'pose brought him around, in thefirst place?"
"Mout a be'n jest passin', an' seein' our light in hyar, thort he'd cumter look us up. If he's thet kind o' a varmint, he mebbe thort as howthar was good pickin's ter be bed. But he knows better now."
It was Eli who advanced this opinion. Thad had another one that was basedon certain facts obtained from the Maine sheriff who had dropped in ontheir camp so unexpectedly.
"If that was the man called Charley Barnes," he said, "you must rememberthat we heard he used to be a guide up in this country long ago, beforehe took to his present calling. And in that case, why, perhaps he mayhave known of this old cabin here, and was coming to see if it would makea half-way decent place to stay for a while. Perhaps one of his friendsis sick; or it might be they feel that they just have to hold oversomewhere, so as to lay in a stock of food. That's an idea the sheriffhad, I recollect; and he wanted to keep so hot on their track that they'dfind no time for hunting, and must get hungry."
"Well, it _was_ a man, anyway, wasn't it?" asked Bumpus, demurely; for hefelt that Giraffe owed him an apology of some sort.
"Yes, it was a man," admitted that worthy, frankly; "and for once you'vegot a bulge on me, Bumpus. Rub it in all you want to; my hide's about asthick as the skin of a rhinoceros, and I c'n stand it easy."
"Oh! that's all right, Giraffe," replied the other, ready to forgive, nowthat things were coming his way; "I was only thinkin' how queer it seemsto have them hobo burglars huntin' us up. Remember what I said about thatfat reward we'd get, if we happened to pull 'em in? A big thousanddollars, Mr. Green said it was; and p'raps double that by now. Well,funnier things have happened, understand, than a pack of Brave Scouts,tried and true, rounding up a bunch of cowardly hoboes. We can do it,fellers, and not half try, if we get the chance."
Again Thad thought it one of the queerest things he had ever seen, towatch how the fire of enthusiasm seemed to burn within the breast of theusually rather timid and backward Bumpus Hawtree. Evidently he had hismind set on that reward; and could see how splendidly it would come infor the patrol, in paying the expenses of another long vacation trip theyhad in mind.
"Wonder if he'll come back any more?" remarked Step Hen, as they began tomove into the cabin again, there being no further reason for remainingout in the cold.
"I reckon now, he saw all he wanted, and didn't care about waiting to beintroduced to such a gang," Giraffe chuckled.
"Speak for yourself, Giraffe," remarked Davy, disdainfully.
"I just can't get over Bumpus, here, showing such a strong desire to grabthese burglar fellers," Giraffe went on. "What's comin' over him, do youthink? We never used to think him daring or bold. He always said his heftkept him from joining in with the rest of the boys, when they skated overa 'ticklish bender' in the ice; and that it'd sure break with him. Sameway about doin' a lot of stunts. Now here he is, tryin' to copy afterDavy Jones in some of his monkey-shines; and makin' the rest of us looklike thirty cents when it comes to wantin' to surround these hereferocious hoboes, and take 'em prisoners."
Bumpus shrugged his fat shoulders, and tried to look indifferent.
"Huh! that's because you never really knew what I had in me," he said,calmly, though Thad could see the merry twinkle in his eyes; "It ain'talways the savage lookin' feller that turns out a _real_ hero, when thetime comes around. Often the quiet, modest, retirin' sort of chap jumpsin, and saves the drownin' child."
"Oh; and that's you, is it?" demanded Giraffe, as he settled himself downin his blanket, ready to try for a little sleep.
"Everything seems to be comin' my way," replied Bumpus, proudly. "All youhave to do is to wait for the turn of the tide. I'm feelin' just joyful.let me tell you;--all but one thing;" he added, hastily. "If I only knewabout that letter business. Did I deliver it at the bank; or was I sillyenough to forget, and lose it? Sometimes I c'n just see myself walkin' inthrough the door of that bank, and deliverin' the old thing; then it allgets mixed up, and for the life of me I just can't say one way ort'other. If one of you only remembered seeing me go in, or come out; orif I said anything about handin' it over, it'd ease my mind a heap, now,I tell you."
Every time Bumpus got to thinking about that one trouble he lapsed intosilence, because he did not seem to get any sympathy from most of hischums; Giraffe and Davy in particular being very apt to taunt him on hispoor memory. Step Hen was not inclined to say very much, lest he draw thevials of the fat boy's wrath down on his own head; for as we know, StepHen had a failing himself in the line of forgetting what he had done withthings he owned.
Once more the boys crawled under their blankets. Each of them had managedto manufacture some sort of a pillow. One had taken his clothes bag, andthis example several of the rest copied, as suiting their wants exactly.Bumpus, lacking enough material, had gone out to the canoe and brought inhis old haversack, from which he extracted the very rubber foot bathwhich he had mentioned to his chums as belonging to Smithy. This hecrammed half full of other things, and declared it made as soft a pillowas anybody wanted.
"Better cover that rubber with a towel, or something like it," remarkedThad.
"But this feels so nice and cool," complained Bumpus.
"It may now, all right, but after a while, when you sleep, it'll begin todraw like everything; and the chances are, you'll look like a boiledlobster on one side of your face by morning. I've been there myself, andknow how it smarts and burns."
"Thank you, Thad, for the advice, and I'll take advantage of it rightaway," declared the stout scout, sweetly. "Ain't it the best thing everto have a chum or two along, like Thad and Allan, who know so manythings? Why, if it wasn't for them, the rest of us would look like thebabes in the woods."
"Let up on that chatter, please, Bumpus," grumbled Step Hen. "It'sgettin' awful late, and we ought to been asleep long ago."
"Yes, button up, Bumpus, I'd rather hear you snore than talk just now,"came from under the blanket that Giraffe had wrapped himself in, muchafter the style of a mummy.
"All right. I'll just lie on my back, then, and try to accommodate you,"the other shot back.
"I've got one of my shoes handy, remember, and if you so much as give onelittle snort I mean to shy it over in that corner," Giraffe threatened.
The guides had been talking quietly among themselves, and when Thad sawSebattis open the door and slip out, he could give a pretty good guesswhat the Indian meant to do. Perhaps he suspected that the hoboes,lacking a boat with which to make their flight easier as long as theriver continued navigable, might return in numbers later in the night, inorder to help themselves from the stock of Oldtown canvas canoes owned bythe scouts' party.
Thad felt perfectly secure with such wide-awake videttes to look out forthe approach of the enemy. He would have gladly taken his turn on post ifasked; but it seemed as though the three guides considered that a part oftheir duty. They had an easy enough task as it was, with these boys sowilling to paddle in turn, make fires, help cook the meals, and do allsorts of things that generally the guide has fall on his shoulders alone.
Presently silence fell upon the cabin. The fire smouldered on the greathearth, and occasionally flamed up, only to die down again. If it gotvery low, some one who happened to be awake at the time, was supposed toquietly get up, and put more fuel on; this had been anticipated, andthere was plenty under the shelter of the cabin roof.
Perhaps Bumpus believed that Giraffe really meant that dire threat hemade in connection with his heavy shoe; at any rate he did not venture tolie on his back at all, and therefore failed to emit anything that couldbe called a snore.
Hours crept on, and the night wore away. Some of the scouts never woke uponce from the time they dropped off to sleep until the delightful odor ofboiling coffee gave them to understand that dawn was at hand, and Jimgetting breakfast ready for the whole outfit.
That caused the last of them to climb out, and there was more or lesschattering as they went outside to try and find water that was not icycold, in order to wash their faces, and chase the last remnants of sleepfrom their eyes.
"I wonder," said Bumpus, looking up at the brightening sky, and trying tokeep from shivering as he dashed water over his rosy face; "if this isgoin' to be a good day for bee tree huntin'; because I'll never be happytill I've seen what a real honey hole looks like."
"But remember," warned Giraffe, solemnly, "we ain't fillin' our kettlesan' bath tubs with the honey. I know where a heap of it c'n be stowedaway right now; and that's all I'm thinkin' about. Hey! there's Jimrattling the frying-pan with that big spoon. I reckon breakfast's ready,before we are. Get a move on, Bumpus!"
The Boy Scouts on the Trail; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country Page 14
