Afloat Part 8

"Here you are," said Elmer, "and now get busy, Landy."

"Yes, drop down on your marrow-bones and see what you make of the footprints," Lil Artha told the fat scout.

Now Landy had had fair training in certain kinds of work a.s.sociated with scout-craft. He had even taken numerous lessons in following a trail, though giving poor promise of ever being a s.h.i.+ning light in that respect.

"Please hold the lantern closer, Johnny," he said, as he thrust his nose down near the ground; "yes, here's a footprint as clear as anybody'd want to see; and I sure ought to know the person who made the same."

"Tell us why, Landy?" asked Elmer, with a pleased smile.

"That's an easy thing to do, Elmer. You see that diagonal mark across the toe of this impression--well, that's caused by a patch on the left shoe. All right, Hen Condit had just such a patch put on his shoe a week ago last Sat.u.r.day."

"You know that for a fact, do you, Landy?" questioned the patrol leader, who did not want any guessing about this business.

"Why, I sat there all the time the cobbler was working at the same, having accompanied Hen to the shoemaker's shop," continued Landy.

"What's more I joshed him about the fine and dandy track he made every time he stepped in some half-hard mud that day after he left the shop.

Oh! I'm as sure of this footprint as I am that my name's Landy Smith."

"Well, then, we've had double evidence," spoke up Ted Burgoyne; "and I gueth that ought to thettle the matter. Ith our Hen that was dragged up by the heelth. Elmer, will it pay uth to try and follow the trail?"

"Hardly just now, at any rate, Ted," the other told him. "We might aim to do something of the kind in the morning. But even here it looks as if they headed for the swamp. That's a point to remember, boys."

Perhaps several of the scouts were just as well satisfied. The idea of starting out on a trail that might soon take them into a dismal swamp, and at midnight in the bargain, with a cloudy sky overhead, did not appeal very strongly to Landy, Toby and Chatz.

Accordingly, they turned back, heading for the friendly barn, attracted, doubtless, by fond memories of those comfortable beds in the sweet hay.

"How about the bulldog, Johnny?" asked Elmer, as they reached the barn entrance.

"I'm meanin' tuh git Mose up yonder, and tie him tuh the tree," replied the boy. "Them turks hes gut tuh be looked arter, if I hes tuh stay up all night tuh do the trick. An' lemme tell yuh, Elmer, I kin make up another trap jest as cunnin' as any ole fox. I'll git 'em yit if so be they keep hangin' 'raound these parts."

"I believe you would, Johnny," a.s.sented the other, who realized that the bound boy was displaying several good traits that would carry him along through the world once his time of bondage with the farmer was up.

There being no reason why they should keep away from their sleeping quarters any longer, the seven scouts entered the barn.

"Wow! but it's plumb dark in here, though!" protested Lil Artha, after he had knocked his s.h.i.+ns twice against some projection, and even slammed into a post that chanced to be directly in his way.

"We'd better stand still for a little while, so as to let our eyes get used to the gloom," suggested Elmer; "it's always that way when you step into one of the moving-picture places, you remember; but a few minutes later you can see all around you. Better waste a little time than a lot of cuticle."

"Just so," grunted Lil Artha; "already half an inch of skin has been barked off my s.h.i.+n, and my nose is swelling where I banged the same against that awful post."

"Well," remarked Toby, whose ankles had not been bruised and who consequently could even think to joke about the matter, "it's probably the first time then Lil Artha was ever left at the post. But I can see a heap better already."

All of them found that their eyesight soon became accustomed to the gloom; and that it was not so very bad after all. They had just managed to reach the place where their traps were left, and started burrowing in the hay again, when Elmer called their attention to certain suggestive sounds outside.

"That must be Johnny and the bull pup going past on the way to the turkey roost," ventured Mark, as they plainly caught a whine, and then a low growl that was vicious enough to make one's blood turn cold.

"If those fellows should be reckless enough to come back to make a second try for young turkey," Landy was saying, as though he could not keep his mind from grappling with Hen Condit and his troubles, "they'll be some surprised when that ferocious old Mose grabs them by the legs, and holds on like everything."

"For one, now," admitted Toby, "I'd want to be excused from any session with the big white teeth of Mose that stick out from his lower jaw.

But if you asked me my opinion I'd say one scare a night was as much as any ordinary chicken thief could put up with."

"Nothing doing," muttered Lil Artha, showing that he, too, was of the same mind as the companion scout.

At least it was very evident none of the boys expected being disturbed again in their slumbers, for they went about settling down as though they meant to enjoy a good long session.

"Don't wake me too early, mother dear," Toby was heard to say, half to himself, "for to-morrow won't be the first of May, and I'm not to be the queen of the occasion either. So please let me have my snooze out, everybody."

Nothing did occur to disturb their slumbers which doubtless were additionally sweet after that one break.

Elmer had them all up when he considered that it was right and proper.

True, the sun was only peeping above the horizon, and the birds still twittered amidst the shrubbery near by; but Elmer knew what great hands farm people are about getting up betimes, and he did not wish to keep Mrs. Trotter's breakfast waiting for any sleepy-heads.

The grumbling ceased as if by magic the moment he mentioned that word "breakfast," and Lil Artha immediately announced himself as being wide-awake.

"H'm! seems like I could even smell the batter cakes frying right now, fellows," he told them, with a smack of his lips. "Notice that I scorn to give them the well-known name of flapjacks on this festive occasion, because we're going to eat at a regular table, under a hospitable roof; and it's only when in camp that wheat cakes are called flapjacks."

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," chortled Toby.

"Yes, but if you kept calling it an onion you'd soon think it didn't,"

affirmed Lil Artha; "but say, do you reckon that bell was meant for us?

Oh! where's my other shoe; they pinched me, so I took 'em off in the middle of the night, and the left one has gone and hid in the hay."

"Mebbe the rats got away with it, Lil Artha," suggested Landy, wickedly; "I'm certain I heard 'em squeakin' all around here; and they like shoe for breakfast."

It turned out, however, that there was no damage done; the missing foot-wear was soon discovered under a wisp of hay, and quickly the tall scout crept out in the wake of his six comrades.

A second time the bell was heard, and at that they all started on a run for the rear of the house, where several tin basins, and some soap, as well as clean towels announced that the farmer's good wife had gotten things ready for them.

Lil Artha had guessed right; perhaps his keen scent had discovered the odor of pancakes in the air, for they were in plain sight, several pyramids of the golden beauties, with a pitcher of real maple syrup, and plenty of fresh b.u.t.ter to go with the same.

Mrs. Trotter may only have had three little girls of her own, but she certainly had been brought up in a family where there were boys, because she knew so well what their weaknesses were.

What with three fried eggs apiece, guaranteed strictly home-grown and fresh; a great rasher of sweet ham, also a product of the farm; coffee, with genuine cream in the same, a dish of oatmeal, and then those steaming stacks of cakes, it was a wonder some of those scouts were not completely foundered.

Elmer had more or less difficulty in coaxing Lil Artha away from the table. The elongated scout could hardly breathe, he was so full; but he heaved many a sigh as he noticed that a fresh plateful of those unexcelled pancakes had just been put on, with no one left to do them justice.

Shaking his head sadly, Lil Artha finally managed to get on his feet and leave the dining-room. His last look back spoke volumes; it said as plainly as anything those wonderfully expressive words: "though lost to sight, to memory dear;" and probably never again in the course of human events would Lil Artha equal the astounding record he made that same morning of thirteen pancakes straight.

Elmer knew they would have a big day ahead of them, and was really anxious to get started. He had made arrangements with the farmer and his wife to supply such provisions as they could conveniently carry along with them for a couple of days, while they were combing the big Sa.s.safras Swamp in hopes of coming across the two parties they sought.

If the Chief of Police in Hickory Ridge, with others to help him, should put in an appearance, Elmer hoped they might be given such information as lay in the power of Mr. Trotter.

"We are not hoggish, you must know, Mr. Trotter," he told the farmer, as they were making their last preparations before starting forth; "much as we want to be the ones who will round up these two lurkers in Sa.s.safras Swamp, if the police come to take a hand in the chase we wish them every luck. Yes, and what's more we stand ready as true scouts to lend them a helping hand."

"All we want," added Ted, seriously, "ith a chance to athist our chum Hen. We believe him to be under thome influence, and tho we're bent on breaking hith chains."

Each of the seven boys had a certain load to carry besides his rubber poncho, and his pack was supposed to hold the extra food supplies as well. Some people on seeing what these consisted of might imagine the swamp hunters meant to spend a very long time in their search; but then such persons would in that way betray their gross ignorance as to what a growing boy's appet.i.te amounts to. They were taking no chances of starvation; and two whole days meant at least three times that many full meals, with sundry bites in between.

From what Elmer had learned through Johnny Spreen, it was possible to navigate a fair portion of the swamp with a boat. They had several flat-bottomed skiffs that were used for that purpose, usually by the boy in his fur-hunting expeditions during the fall and winter seasons.