Ellis Edward Sylvester
The Boy Patrol Around the Council Fire

CHAPTER XIII – The Committee of Investigation

Lightning seldom strikes twice in the same place, though I have known it to do so, and Mike Murphy was too wise to try a second shot, when there was not one chance in a million of repeating his feat. With his loftiest air he proposed that he and Hoke should take turns in displaying their skill.

“I’ve made a bull’s eye, – do the same or betther and I’ll take a whack and beat that, – and so it will go. Am I corrict, dochther, in me sintiments?”

“Undoubtedly; you can’t refuse Mike’s offer, Hoke.”

The latter saw he was caught and accepted the weapon as if eager for the test, though it need not be said it was otherwise. A vague hope stirred him that the same exceptional success might reward his effort. He aimed with the care and deliberation shown by Mike, and then pulled the trigger five times in rapid succession.

“One of the bullets will be sure to land,” was his sustaining thought, but nothing of the kind took place. Close examination by the three showed that Hoke had not so much as grazed the trunk of the sapling.

Neither Mike nor the doctor laughed, restrained from doing so by a chivalrous sympathy, for Hoke could not wholly hide his chagrin. Mike went so far as to say:

“Hoke, it was a chance shot on me part, and I couldn’t do it agin in my life time.”

“And now let us adjourn to dinner,” said the doctor; “it is later than usual, but the folks will wait for me.”

No words could be more welcome, but the fun of the proceeding was that the direction taken by the man showed that Hoke and Mike were both wrong – as the former had intimated – in locating the lake. The former grinned and the latter answered with a wink. The theme was one concerning which it was best to say nothing.

The call at the forest home of Dr. Spellman was so similar to what has been described that it need not be dwelt upon. Sunbeam showed her preference for the genial Irish youth, who certainly reciprocated her affection, as he did in the case of Nora Friestone, whom he had met the preceding summer farther up the Kennebec. The mother was always gracious and won the good opinion of every one with whom she was brought in contact.

When the meal was finished, and while mother and child were busy setting things to rights, the doctor talked with his guests. Mike made known all that had occurred since his previous meeting with the physician. The latter was much interested in the experience of that forenoon.

“I never saw that pile of logs, which is doubtless the remains of some fisherman or hunter’s cabin that either was never finished or has been allowed to fall into decay. I must add one thing, however,” said the doctor gravely; “I don’t like the way those tramps are acting.”

“It strikes me that about the only thing they are doing is getting scared half to death or swimming or running for life.”

“But why do they stay in this neighborhood? The hobo doesn’t take to the woods for long, though he may hide there when the officers make it too hot for him. What can there be in this part of the world that attracts them?”

“They may be looking for a chance to steal from the Boy Scouts,” suggested Hoke.

“The last persons two hobos would tackle. What chance would they have against twenty vigorous, active, fearless youths, who despite their peaceful principles are yearning for stirring adventure?”

“Then it must be you, doctor, that they have designs upon.”

“I half suspect as much; I have been considerate to them despite their insolence, more so than I shall be again if they annoy us further.”

Turning upon the youths, Dr. Spellman asked a question that fairly took away the breath of the two Boy Scouts.

“Has either of you seen Uncle Elk and those tramps together?”

Hoke was not sure he understood the question. Mike was shocked.

“Why should they be togither, docther, unless the spalpeens called at his cabin for food? Ye know his latchstring is always out, but I’ve niver known of their being in his company.”

“Didn’t you hear them laughing or talking last night, along shore, and not far from this spot?”

“Be the same token I heerd two men, but they were not the tramps.”

“How do you know that?”

“Uncle Elk told me so.”

There was reproof in Mike’s tones, for he resented the slightest reflection upon the hermit, whom he held in high regard. The doctor made no reply to the words of the youth, but smoked his cigar hard and seemed to be turning over something in his mind that was of a displeasing nature.

Mike knew of course of the unaccountable antipathy that Uncle Elk showed toward the physician who was spending his outing in this part of Maine. Alvin Landon and Chester Haynes were as much mystified as the Irish youth, and the doctor himself claimed to have no theory that would account for it. The last remark of the medical man sounded as if he reciprocated the dislike of the hermit. Not only that but doubtless he mistrusted him.

“You don’t seem any nearer the solution of the tramps’ behavior yesterday than you were at the time, and it looks to me as if you will have to wait until Uncle Elk is ready to tell you.”

“There saams no ither ch’ice, docther, though I’m riddy to make another try for the same. Will ye jine us?”

“No; there will be danger of Uncle Elk and me meeting, and I am no more anxious for it than he is. I don’t believe you will learn anything.”

“We sha’n’t by standing here, as Mickey Lanigan said whin the bull was charging down upon him – whisht! what have we now?”

Alvin Landon and Chester Haynes walked out of the wood and smilingly made the Boy Scout salute.

“Just in time not to be too late for dinner,” was the warm greeting of Dr. Spellman, as he shook hands with the lads. They protested that they could not permit his wife to bother with preparing a meal, when the regular one had been finished a short time before, but the hospitable host would not listen, and I am compelled to say the objections of the guests were not very vigorous. All entered and crowded themselves as best they could into the limited space.

As the two ate, Mike and Hoke told them of their experience at the western end of the lake earlier in the day, while the new arrivals had their own interesting story to relate. They had seen two strangers enter Uncle Elk’s cabin, only to depart soon after in his company, as the canoe was paddled away. The rather curious feature of this proceeding was that neither Mike nor Hoke, who had scanned the lake more than once, caught sight of the craft, and Dr. Spellman heard of it for the first time, though of necessity the canoe passed quite close to his home.

Whatever the thoughts of the physician may have been he kept them to himself. He had already expressed his distrust of Uncle Elk to Mike Murphy, who was quick to resent it, and it would be the same with Alvin and Chester, for they held the old man in too much esteem to listen with patience to anything in the way of censure of him.

It might have been difficult for the doctor to convince any unprejudiced person that there was the slightest understanding between the recluse or the vagrants. In fact, the only foundation for such a charge, not taking into account the mutual antipathy, was the knowledge which Uncle Elk showed of the cause of the hobos’ panic. And yet there was a reasonable explanation of such knowledge, which would have acquitted the old man of any improper motive, and it was singular that it did not occur to Dr. Spellman.

The explorers, as they may be called, now numbered four. With warm thanks to the members of the family they bade them good-bye and set out to continue their quest.

It will be borne in mind that the spot which they were to visit lay quite a little way to the westward of Dr. Spellman’s home. It was there that Mike Murphy had passed under the overhanging vegetation from which Uncle Elk soon afterward emerged, and where the Irish youth had detected the odor of a cigar and heard chuckling laughter. Mike and Hoke by pushing into the woods, and partly losing their way, had left this locality so far to one side that they saw nothing of it. The four now intended to make their way thither.

“Couldn’t it be that Uncle Elk wint back, while ye were thramping to the docther’s house?” asked Mike, as they straggled forward.

“There wasn’t fifteen minutes at a time that we were out of sight of the lake,” replied Alvin; “we surely should have seen him.”

“He might have come back through the woods.”

“That is true,” said Chester, “but I see no reason why he should do so.”

“Doesn’t the same gintleman do lots of things for which we see no raison?”

“Far more than we can understand. Now I have been wondering whether he won’t be offended by our trying to pry into matters which should not concern us.”

“I think it is the other way,” said Alvin; “he is amused by our curiosity, and doesn’t tell us the secret because he enjoys our efforts to discover it for ourselves.”

“And there’s no saying how long his fun will last,” commented Mike, who because of his previous visit to this section took upon himself the part of guide.

They had tramped less than half an hour when Mike halted and looked about him with a puzzled air.

“We oughter to be there,” he remarked, “but it saams we’re somewhere ilse.”

Alvin pointed to where the undergrowth, a short distance in advance, was less abundant than in other places.

“There seems to be a wagon track that has been traveled lately.”

Hurrying over the few paces, they found the supposition correct. There were the ruts made by wagon wheels and the deep impression of horses’ hoofs. The greatest wonder was how any team could drag a vehicle through such an unbroken forest. Trees stood so close together that there seemed hardly room for a wheelbarrow to be shoved between, and yet a heavily laden wagon had plunged ahead, crushing down bushes and even small saplings, with the hubs scraping off the bark from large trunks, but ever moving undeviatingly in the direction of Gosling Lake.

“It’s the trail of the chuck wagon!” exclaimed Chester; “it brings our supplies that are taken across to the bungalow.”

“And this is the day for it,” added Alvin, who had scarcely uttered the words when a threshing of the wood was heard, accompanied by the sharp cracking of a whip and a resounding voice:

“Gee up! Consarn you, what’s the matter with you? You’re purty near there!”

Two powerful horses, tugging at a ponderous open wagon piled high with boxes of supplies, labored into sight, while the driver, a lean, sandy-haired man perched on the high seat, snapped his whip, jerked the lines, clucked and urged the animals to do their best, which they certainly did.

The boys stepped aside out of the way of the team, and saluted the driver as he came opposite and looked down upon them. He nodded, but nothing more, for his animals required his attention. Our young friends fell in or followed the wagon to the edge of the lake only a brief distance away, where the driver flung his reins to the ground and leaped down. He was bony, stoop-shouldered, without coat or waistcoat, and had his trousers tucked into the tops of his cowhide boots.

“Say, I see by your dress you b’long to the Boy Scouts,” he remarked, addressing the whole party.

“We are proud to say we do,” replied Alvin.

“And the Boy Scouts be proud to have us belong to ’em,” added Mike.

“I should think they would be blamed proud of you,” said the man with a grin.

“Your perciption of the truth is wonderful, as me mither exclaimed whin Father Meagher said I was the purtiest baby in Tipperary.”

“And you chaps believe in doing a good turn every day to some person?”

“Right again.”

“What good turn have you done anybody to-day?”

“Modesty kaaps our lips mute,” replied Mike, who for the life of him could not recall a single incident of the nature named.

“Wal, would you like to do me a good turn?”

“We certainly shall be glad,” Alvin took upon himself to reply.

“Help me unload this wagon; the stuff is for the Boy Scouts, so you’ll be helping yourselves.”

CHAPTER XIV – The Men Who Laughed

Before the party fell to work, the driver walked to the edge of the lake and tied his white handkerchief to the limb of a tree, which projected over the water. There was enough breeze to make it flutter, and the background of emerald brought it out with vivid distinctness. It was the signal to the bungalow that the chuck wagon, as they called it, had arrived, and the two canoes were to be sent across the lake for the supplies. Since it was expected at a certain time, our friends were on the watch for it. Within ten minutes after the piece of linen was fastened in place, the large canoes, each containing two persons, one of whom was Scout Master Hall, were seen heading for the spot where the provisions were awaiting them. It does not take a man and four lusty boys long to prepare a wagon load of such freight for shipment by water, and the cargo was ready a good while before the arrival of the craft.

The driver, who announced that he was “Jake,” sat on one of the boxes, lighted a corncob pipe and talked with the lads. Although he was rough of speech and at times inclined to profanity, the young men treated him with respect, and by their unvarying courtesy won his good will. He asked many questions and told them a good deal about himself; in short, they became quite chummy.

The two canoes had passed most of the distance when Jake abruptly asked:

“Have you seen anything of Asa and Bige Carter?”

“Who are they?” asked Alvin in turn, although he had heard the names before.

“I thought everybody knowed Asa and Bige; they’re twin brothers, and two of the darndest chaps that ever lived.”

This description, so far as it went, was not enlightening. Chester said:

“Those must have been the two men that called on Uncle Elk this morning and went off with him in their canoe. So far as we could see they look exactly alike.”

“That’s them,” replied Jake with a nod of his head. “Did the three come this way in their canoe?”

“They seemed to be heading for this place.”

“That settles it; they was Asa and Bige. I expected them to meet me here,” and Jake peered around in the wood, but without seeing anything of his friends.

“What might ye maan by spaking of them as two of the darndest chaps that ever lived?” asked Mike, who, as did his companions, hoped they had struck a lead that might yield them something worth while.

“Why, they’re just like a couple of Irishmen.”

“Arrah now, but what model gintlemen they must be! It will be an honor for us to make their acquaintance.”

Jake’s reply to this was to snatch off his straw hat, throw back his head and roar with laughter. Determined to probe farther, Alvin asked:

“What is there peculiar about the twin brothers?”

“Now, you jist wait till you meet ’em and you’ll find out. I’ll only warn you to keep your eyes wide open, or they’ll close ’em for you. Wal, the folks have about arriv.”

All rose to their feet and greeted their friends who were now within a short distance. The water was so deep that the light craft were able to lie broadside against the bank. It required skill and hard labor to get a portion of the freight aboard, but in due time it was accomplished.

“We are pretty heavily loaded,” remarked Scout Master Hall, “but the lake is smooth and we can easily make two or three trips. We can divide you four between us.”

“It’s blamed risky,” commented Jake, “but I guess it can be did if you’re all mighty keerful.”

Mr. Hall insisted that he and his three companions should change places with the others, but this arrangement would have defeated the scheme Alvin and his chums had in mind. Without revealing their object, they begged off and secured a compromise by which Hoke Butler was to return in one of the canoes, while the trio would walk home. In truth, Hoke was so tired from his long tramp that he was pleased by the plan.

“But I won’t go, Mike, if you’re going to feel bad about it,” he remarked before sitting down in the boat that was about to shove off.

“Av coorse me heart is nearly broke,” said Mike, “but it’s yer own comfort I’m thinking of, as Larry McWhymper said whin he put a brick in the bag for the cat he was drowning to set on and pass away comfortable. But I’m cheered by the hope of maating ye at supper time. Good luck to ye!”

The two craft, sunk almost to their gunwales, moved slowly across the mirror-like lake, reaching their destination without mishap, and returning for the last loads.

Jake looked at the three youths.

“You’ve got a mighty hard tramp afore you; if there was a road I’d take you home in my wagon.”

“We don’t mind it,” was the cheery reply of Alvin.

“Besides, if we feel like resting our legs and using our arms, we can borrow Dr. Spellman’s boat; his home isn’t far off. Do you go back at once?”

“I’ve a great mind to; it would serve Asa and Bige right if I did, but I’ll hang round a half hour or so and not a blamed bit longer, for I must git home afore dark.”

“Then we shall bid you good bye,” said Alvin shaking hands with the countryman, as did the others, all expressing the hope of soon meeting him again. Since it was he who regularly brought the supplies to this point, there seemed to be no reason why the mutual wish should not be gratified. Jake refilled and relighted his pipe, sitting on a fallen tree and showing by his vigorous puffs that he was not in the most patient of moods.

The three boys did not speak until sure they were beyond sight of Jake. Then they halted.

“Do you think he suspects anything?” asked Alvin, unconsciously lowering his voice.

“Why should he?” asked Chester.

“He suspicts we’re thramping for home,” remarked Mike, “which the same is what we wish him to belave.”

It will be understood that our young friends were resolute to learn all that was possible about the mystery that had tantalized them for the past day or two. Beyond a doubt the twin brothers were connected with it, and since Jake was awaiting their coming, it looked as if the boys had a fair chance of learning something.

They separated, and each began an approach to the driver and his team that was meant to be so cautious that Jake would not detect them. The very care used by each well nigh defeated its purpose. It fell to Alvin to catch the first enlightening glimpse of the countryman and that which he saw astonished him.

The Carter brothers must have been waiting near at hand for the departure of the boys, for in the brief interval since then they had come forward, loaded something in the wagon and covered it with a big sheet of soiled canvas. Whatever it was, its size was such that it filled the whole interior, and crowded against the seat in front. It towered several feet above the sides and suggested a load of hay, protected against a drenching rain.

“What can it be?” Alvin muttered, “and why are they so particular with it?” which questions were self asked by Chester and Mike, with none able to frame an answer.

Having loaded the wagon, the brothers proceeded carefully to tuck in the precious burden as if afraid jealous eyes might see it. Finally all was satisfactory and the three men climbed to the front seat. They had to sit snugly, but there was enough room. Jake was on the extreme right, where he could crack his whip without hindrance.

He glanced behind him, as if to make sure everything was right, jerked the reins, circled the whip lash which gave out an explosion like that of a fire cracker, and the sturdy horses bent to their task of dragging the wagon and its contents through the woods into the more open country, where the smoother highway made the task easy.

All three men crowded on the front seat were smoking. Jake stuck to his corncob pipe, but each brother sported a cigar, which by a special arrangement with Porter, the druggist in Boothbay Harbor, they bought for two cents apiece, – far in excess of their worth, as any one would decide who tested them, or even caught their odor. With all puffing vigorously, one might fancy that they instead of the horses supplied the motive power.

From where Alvin Landon stood behind the trunk of a large tree and peeped out, he saw that the brothers were doing a good deal of laughing, as if they recalled some humorous incident. Bige gave the particulars to Jake, who was so pleased that he threw back his head and made the forest ring with his laughter.

Since the backs of the men were turned toward the boys, the latter did not fear to come together to discuss their next step.

“I don’t see that we have learned more than we knew before,” remarked Alvin disgustedly; “what do you suppose they have covered up in that wagon?”

“I have no idea,” replied Chester.

“Let’s folly the team till it gets back to Bovil or wherever the same may be going. Better still,” added Mike, “we can slip up behind, lift the lid, and get a peep at the cratur himself.”

“How do you know what it may be?”

“I don’t, which is why I want to find out, and the same is thrue of yersilves.”

They gave over the plan for more than one reason. There was no saying how many miles they would have to tramp, and they could not go far without being discovered by the men. Then the situation, to say the least, would become embarrassing.

“I have the belief that we are near the solution,” said Alvin, “and we can afford to wait a day or two longer. We have several miles ahead and may as well place them behind us before nightfall. Come on.”

Good taste suggested that having called upon Dr. Spellman so recently they should pass him by on their return to the bungalow. This was done and they reached home without further incident.

Meanwhile, the wagon with its mysterious load was lurching and plunging over the primitive road, the three men on the front seat retaining their places with no little difficulty, but they were used to such traveling and no mishap followed.

Shortly after reaching the smoother highway, Bige Carter with another laugh exclaimed:

“By jingo! there they be!”

“You’re right; that’s them,” added his brother.

The two tramps, who have already figured to some extent in these pages, were descried as the team turned a corner, walking in the middle of the road. He who had lost his hat had managed in some way to secure another. Half of the rim was missing and his frowsy hair showed through the crown. As the rattle of wheels reached their ears, he who was known as Biggs looked around. Immediately the paths of the two diverged, one going to the right and the other to the left of the highway. Both limped as if the act of walking was painful. Naturally the team soon overtook them. Jake, who had been talking the matter over with his friends, stopped his horses.

“Whoa! wouldn’t you gentlemen like me to give you a lift?”

“Now ye’re shouting, boss,” replied Biggs as he and his companion each approached a front wagon wheel, “but where are yer going to put us?”

“You won’t mind setting on the bottom of the wagon in front of the stuff piled there?”

“Not a bit, boss; ye’re a trump.”

Resting one ragged shoe on a hub, the hobos clambered in and sat down behind the three men, who said nothing but tried to restrain their chuckling. They knew what was coming.

Biggs and Hutt drew up their legs and compressed themselves as much as possible. Still, with the best they could do they were cramped. It seemed to Biggs that a slight shifting of the freight behind them would help matters. He hesitated for a minute or two and then stealthily raised one corner of the canvas covering, his companion watching him.

Thus it came about that the revelation burst upon the two in the same instant. A howl of terror rang out from each, as they bounded to their feet and dived over the side of the wagon. They forgot their lameness, and ran in the direction of Gosling Lake as if they were contestants at Stockholm for the Marathon prize. That single peep under the canvas had shown the same appalling thing that drove them headlong from the canoe. It was actually near enough to touch them, and the wonder was that they were not smitten with a mortal dread.

As Jake and Bige and Asa rode on they were so convulsed with merriment that they surely would have fallen from their seats had not the highway been smooth and the pace of the horses a slow walk.