The Ranger Boys Outwit the Timber Thieves Part 9

"Here's the upper end of the hollow," he called down. "Now you fellows start your fire at the hole down there, while I spread the bag over this hole."

The smudge was soon started, and fanning it with their coats, they drove the smoke into the hollow tree trunk. They were always careful not to let the flames of the fire get to the tree, or they might have started a forest fire that would have been disastrous. As a matter of fact, several bad forest fires have started from an unskillful attempt to smoke some animal out of a tree.

Soon there was a shout from the man up the tree. "I've got him!"

The smoke had proved too much for Brer Racc.o.o.n, and he had sought to escape by the hole at the top, only to walk into the bag. In a moment more Tom had descended the tree with a squirming, snarling animal safely tied up in the bag.

On their return to the camp they were greeted by several of the jacks who had not yet gone to bed. The catch was exhibited, and one of the men produced an old dog collar from the bunkhouse. The collar was snapped on the c.o.o.n's neck, a stout rope was attached to the ring in the corner to be later tied securely to a nail at the corner of the bunkhouse.

"There," remarked Tom, surveying the result of the night's catch. "If you fellows will lay off and not tease him, and s.h.i.+nny out a little food for him once in a while, he'll get tame as a kitten, and they are a lot of fun when they get tame. Almost as good as a monkey."

"We'll have to keep Sandy tied up for a while when he is not with us, or he'll make short work of that c.o.o.n," remarked Garry.

"Oh, I'll have 'em as friendly as two brothers in a few days," was Tom's verdict.

The boys later found that the man Tom had a reputation for being quite a hand with animals of every description, but future events will show why Sandy and the c.o.o.n never got well acquainted. Things were on the verge of beginning to hum for all hands.

When the boys woke in the morning, they made two startling discoveries.

The first one was that repeated calls failed to bring Sandy to them, and the boys had never remembered the morning when Sandy went so far abroad that a few whistles did not bring him back on the run to join his companions.

The second surprise was found when Garry noticed a familiar looking roll of birch bark at the entrance to the cabin, weighted down by a stone!

CHAPTER VIII

WORD FROM THE HERMIT

"Look here, you chaps," called Garry, as he gazed at the little roll of bark, which he had not yet picked up. The boys crowded around and looked at him in amazement.

"Without making any rash bets," announced Garry, "I'll wager my best rifle against a plugged nickel, that one of our friends has been in this vicinity within the past few hours. Cast your eyes on that roll of bark, and tell me if you dare that we won't find a funny cryptic little message in it!"

"The Hermit!" burst out d.i.c.k and Phil almost in one breath.

"That's my guess. Now we'll see if we are right," and Garry stooped and picked up the little roll from its resting place beneath the stone.

"It's the Hermit, and it's just the kind of a note I expected to find.

Listen to this. 'Unseen watchers often give the best aid. When you need me most, I'll be with you.' And it's signed with his old mark, the lone pine with the crossmarked boulder," said Garry as he had finished reading.

"Well, if that doesn't beat anything I ever heard of," said d.i.c.k. "How in the name of all that's wonderful did he ever find us in this part of the country?"

"I think I can answer that," interrupted Phil. "He must have run across Nate Webster and asked about us. It is likely that Nate told him where we were going, and since he knew that we were good friends, might have given him an inkling of the business that we were here on. The thing that puzzles me is why he should not have waited and seen us, or even waked us up to say howdy."

"Well, you know what a queer old codger he was, and this latest stunt is typical of him. Much as I would like to see him, I confess I would have been a little bit disappointed if he had not done something out of the ordinary," replied Garry.

"Wonder where he went after he left the note?" queried d.i.c.k.

"Oh, he's probably somewhere out in the woods, you know life in the open woods is nothing to him, after all the years that he must have lived in them. The main question now, since we can do nothing about our friend the Hermit, as he will come in his own good time, is to see what has happened to Sandy. I cannot understand his going away. He may have chased up some animal, and if so he will be back. But it is unusual for him ever to stir away from where we are sleeping until he knows that we are up and about."

Throughout the morning they searched every nook and corner of the camp, going almost to the edge of the cutting operations, asking all the workers they met whether or not the dog had been seen. Their search was of no avail. The day dragged on, still no Sandy, and each pa.s.sing hour made the chums more downcast.

"I'm beginning to think that this is step number two to drive us out,"

gritted Garry between his teeth. "I tell you this, boys, if it is so, and I'm inclined to believe it more and more, if any harm comes to Sandy through the machinations of this crew that are trying to ruin Dad's business, there's going to be one of the sweetest little wars started that Barrows and his whole crew ever even dreamed of."

"I'm with you, Garry. That dog was more than human, and the best friend that a bunch of chums like us could ever hope to have," replied d.i.c.k as he patted his friend on the shoulder. Phil said nothing, but the others could see by the tightening of the corners of his mouth,-the danger signal when Phil was really aroused over anything,-that he was with them to the end.

"There doesn't seem to be anything that we can do. I've looked carefully over the ground for any signs of a struggle, but I can find nothing.

There was some trickery of some kind to get Sandy away. It may have been done only to steal him and possibly sell him, but it may be that there was a foul purpose in getting the dog away from us. The time has come for real action. Let's get going early in the morning and keep our eyes and ears sharply on the lookout. Phil, you watch the cookee closely and see if there are any more midnight appointments to be made. d.i.c.k, you look out for the sawmill, and see if there is any funny business being done with the saw. You know enough about machinery to be able to detect if it is working properly, and your common sense will tell you if there seems to be a slackening up of production. It stands to reason that the boss of the sawmill must be in on this scheme, for more delay can be caused here than anywhere else. It is unlikely that there are many men in on this plot. Too many would make it unsafe for the conspirators, they couldn't all keep their mouths shut. I'll keep an eye on Barrows and see what conferences he holds with the men. I hope that Howells gets back here soon, I feel that we need immediate advice from someone who is more experienced in the lumbering business than we are. Now let's hop to it."

The two boys did as their leader had directed. Phil ambled off to the cookhouse with the intention of offering his services in peeling potatoes to the cookee in order that he might have an excuse for keeping near the fellow. d.i.c.k at once made for the sawmill.

When he arrived there, the busy hum of activity seemed to be all about him. But as he watched he became conscious of the fact that there seemed to be several things that delayed the game. The man who drove one of the tractors seemed to be having continual trouble with the engine, and several minutes on each trip were consumed in needless repairs. d.i.c.k could see with half an eye that there was little the trouble with the engine except that which was created by the driver himself. The man kept up a continual stream of grumbling at the way the engine was acting, evidently to make the trouble appear to be real.

Once d.i.c.k saw that there was a loose wire connection which the driver purposely overlooked, and after he had watched the man waste ten minutes in needless overhauling, he stepped up and offered his services.

The man refused with a growl and an oath. d.i.c.k managed to restrain his temper, although he wanted to tell the man how evident his stalling around was.

"Oh, all right, I don't mean to interfere with your business, but your wire to your battery is unconnected," and d.i.c.k turned on his heel.

Seeing that d.i.c.k really knew what he was talking about, the driver attached the wire and in a moment or two was off for another load of logs.

"If he wastes that much time every trip," thought d.i.c.k to himself, "he might just as well try to bring in the logs on his back. In the course of a week that would mean almost a day's production gone to waste, and I haven't watched long enough to know how much time he takes on his trip."

Quite frequently the saw would be stopped for a moment while the boss sawyer oiled up different parts of the machinery. He did not seem to like d.i.c.k's watching him, but he was evidently a little wiser than the driver, and attempted an explanation.

"This is the last saw we have in the camp," he told d.i.c.k. "The ones that we ordered haven't shown up yet, and if anything goes wrong with this one, we are hurt and hurt bad."

d.i.c.k pretended a great deal of ignorance about the saw, but he could see that the sawyer regarded him with some suspicion.

d.i.c.k kept in the sawmill, but stayed as much as possible in the background. After nearly an hour of watching, a great log was rolled onto the carriage, and glancing at his watch, the boss sawyer called an a.s.sistant and gave him charge of the saw. Then he hastened from the mill and started in the direction of the camp, evidently to hold a conference with Barrows. d.i.c.k was turning to saunter out when he heard a terrific tearing sound as of steel being ground between heavy rollers, then a cry of pain from the sawyer. d.i.c.k turned and rushed to the scene. The saw was still grinding into the obstruction that was causing the noise, and several pieces of flying steel were in the air. The sawyer had his hands clasped to his face, and the blood was streaming from between his fingers.

d.i.c.k saw that there was no one with presence of mind enough to throw the lever that shut off the saw, and he ran and threw off the lever. Then he returned to the injured man. The flying teeth of the saw had cut his face in several places, but fortunately his eyes were uninjured. That he had escaped being blinded was almost a miracle.

The thought that flashed through d.i.c.k's mind that here was an instance of what Howells had told them, of the spiking a tree in the upper part where it would hit the saw. d.i.c.k asked the old man who had told them how to fumigate their shack the day before if he could roll back the saw without starting up the engine and causing more teeth to be broken and start flying about the place.

In a few minutes the old timer had worked the saw back so that d.i.c.k could examine it. It required only a moment to see that the saw was irreparably ruined. Most of the teeth had been bent or broken off, and a further examination showed that several parts of the saw carriage and control had been broken or strained by the unwonted burden that had been put on them.

At this moment the boss sawyer and Barrows, the manager, had come rus.h.i.+ng up to the mill to inquire what was the trouble. Garry was with them, and d.i.c.k gave him a significant look, un.o.bserved by the others.

"What's all the trouble?" inquired Barrows needlessly, for he could see with half an eye the damage that had been wrought.

"Seems as if your saw was a total wreck," answered d.i.c.k. "Must have struck a ton of metal in the heart of that tree to do all that damage."

"Nonsense," cried Barrows. "Whoever heard of metal in a tree?"

"Could it have been a defective saw?" inquired Garry soberly, for the purpose of hearing what reply Barrows would make.

"Yes, that's what it must have been, a defective saw," repeated the manager, parrot fas.h.i.+on.