Under Boy Scout Colors Part 19

"Gee! Isn't this great!" exclaimed Tompkins, impulsively.

Ranny nodded. "It sure is!" he agreed, in a half-friendly, half-embarra.s.sed fas.h.i.+on. And then, almost as if regretting his tone, he sprang up and reached for his swimming-tights. "Everybody out for the morning dip, fellows," he called authoritatively.

They needed no urging. Vedder was the only one who clung to his blankets, and the others lost no time in dragging these off and applying the sole of a sneaker with a dexterity that brought a howl of protest from the plump youth.

"Ouch! Quit that!" he roared, rolling over the side of the bunk and thudding to the floor. "Wait till I get hold of you, Court Parker, and I'll--"

The threat ended in a sputter as the rest fled, giggling, to gather before headquarters for the brief ceremony of flag-raising. Then followed five minutes of setting-up exercises that sent the blood tingling through their veins and made them more than ever eager for the refres.h.i.+ng plunge, after which came dressing, the airing of blankets, and breakfast--and the day's work and pleasure had fairly begun.

It was mostly work that first morning. Dale's tent had pioneering duties, and for two hours or more he sweated with ax and grub-hoe, clearing out more undergrowth and making the camp s.h.i.+pshape. Ranny was no easy taskmaster. He kept everybody hustling without any let-up, and half an hour before inspection he had the whole seven hard at work on the tent, sweeping, folding blankets, and tidying up generally.

There were a few grumbling asides, but the credit they received at the inspection silenced all that and made each boy resolved to be just as thorough every day. It wasn't so bad, after all, most of them decided.

Certainly they enjoyed their swim twice as much for the knowledge that the longest part of the day lay before them, unburdened by a single duty.

Both before and during dinner, there was a good deal of speculation as to what had been planned for the afternoon. But this was not revealed until the last spoonful of dessert had been consumed, when Mr. Reed arose from his place at the officers' table.

"Most of you fellows have heard of Lost Mine Hill," he said, "and are probably wanting to get a closer view of it. There's a legend, you know, that before the Revolution there were copper workings in the neighborhood which were long ago abandoned and the entrance to the shafts, or whatever they were, lost track of. This afternoon we'll take a hike over there and see if a little systematic scouting can't solve the mystery. To make it more interesting, we'll consider it a sort of compet.i.tion on the treasure-hunt idea, each tent working together as a unit against the other five. If the entrance should happen to be located, the crowd that finds it will be given a certain number of credits toward the emblem. Everybody be on hand at headquarters at one sharp, for we don't want to waste any time starting."

The idea met with instant approval, and the burst of eager talk that followed showed how thoroughly it had stirred the boys' imaginations.

For the next twenty minutes the camp buzzed with interested discussion, and at one o'clock not a scout was missing from the throng before headquarters tent.

They started at once, with Mr. Reed and Mr. Curtis in the lead. There were no regular roads to follow, but after half an hour's tramp through the woods they struck an overgrown track, and kept to it until it simply dwindled away into nothing and disappeared. A little distance beyond, the ground began to rise, gradually at first, but with increasing steepness, while outcroppings of rock showed more and more frequently.

Presently, reaching a small open place among the trees, the scoutmasters paused and waited for the stragglers to come up.

"We may as well start the hunt here, fellows," said Mr. Reed, taking out his watch. "I won't make any suggestions as to how to go about it; each tent-leader must think that out for himself. Use your heads, that's all, and don't get too far away to be back here at four-thirty sharp.

It's taken us over an hour to make this point, so we ought to start back then at the latest. Remember, a little blazing will make the return trip easier, and if n.o.body finds anything to-day, we'll take it up later in the week. Go ahead."

The boys had been standing in little groups about him, and at the signal most of these started off hotfoot, as if they expected to gain their end by speed alone. Some hurried on toward the summit of the hill; others turned to right or left and, pus.h.i.+ng through the undergrowth, disappeared along the side of the slope. Somewhat to Tompkins's surprise, Ranny Phelps dawdled along until the others were out of sight. Then, however, he turned swiftly and led the way almost directly downhill.

"What are you going back for?" asked Court Parker, in surprise.

"I've got a hunch," returned Ranny, briefly. Though instantly besieged with questions, he did not continue until they were well away from the clearing.

"It's just this," he said, without moderating his brisk pace. "We certainly can't expect to find something that even the natives have lost track of, by just tramping around aimlessly. Of course, we might happen to stumble on it, but that would be a thousand-to-one chance. The best way is to use system. Did any of you notice the old fellow who brought over a load of fish this morning?"

"The man with whiskers you were talking to at the cook-shack?" asked Frank Sanson.

"Yes. Well, he's lived around here all his life and is quite a character.

I was asking him about this lost mine just out of curiosity and without having heard anything about the stunt this afternoon. He didn't know much, but he finally did say his grandfather had once told him of an old building they used as a smelter, or something."

"Gee!" exclaimed Sanson, excitedly. "And is this the way to it?"

"He hadn't any idea. He'd never seen it himself, and of course it must have gone to ruin ages ago. But it stands to reason, doesn't it, that a smelter would be more on the level and not on the side of a hill like this? They'd have to cart stuff to and from it along some kind of a road--"

"The one we came along!" put in Parker, eagerly.

"Maybe, though no road would keep open all this time without cutting.

Very likely that's just a lumbering-track. The point is, if we can only locate this building, we'll be somewhere near the mine and won't have to go prospecting all over the map. So that's what we want to look for--a foundation of any kind or the least sign of a building. As soon as we're down a bit farther we'll spread out and hunt systematically. It may be clear on the other side of the hill, but at least we'll have something definite to look for."

"I'll bet it's on this side," said Dale Tompkins, suddenly. "In the old days they didn't have many roads and did most of their traveling by water, so I should think-- Oh, shucks! I forgot the smelter would be near the mine and that might be anywhere."

"It might," agreed Ranny; "but it won't do any harm to try this side first."

Full of enthusiasm, they hurried down the slope, and when the steepest part was over they spread out in a line about twenty feet apart. In this formation they moved forward, keeping a sharp lookout for the slightest sign that might help them in the search.

They moved slowly forward through the forest, the fascination of the hunt gripping them more and more strongly. The sense of emulation, always keen with a crowd of boys, was intensified by the belief that, thanks to Ranny, they had just a little better chance of success than any of the others. The object of their search, too, stirred the imagination.

There was a glamour of mystery about it which placed the whole thing in a different cla.s.s from the games that they ordinarily played.

But little by little, as they found only the same monotonous succession of rocks and trees and tangled undergrowth, Dale's mind began to dwell on the growing probability that they might not find the mine after all.

Over an hour of close search had failed to reveal any trace of the ruined smelter. The ground on the river side of the hill had been thoroughly gone over, and they were now making their way inland, keeping well in toward the slope, and even spreading out a little on it. Without actually running into any of the other searching-parties, they had twice heard voices farther up the hill. The second time, in fact, these were so near that Dale could distinguish the familiar tones of Wesley Becker, and it was while peering curiously through the trees in that direction that he tripped over an obstruction and fell headlong, bruising his s.h.i.+n and twisting one wrist painfully.

"You want to look out for those feet of yours, Tommy," laughed Frank Sanson, from the right. "They're awful things to trip over."

Usually quick enough with a retort, Tompkins made no answer. He had scrambled up and stood clutching his aching wrist instinctively. But neither his gaze nor his attention was on the injured member. Flushed, bright-eyed, he was staring eagerly at the obstacle that had caused his tumble.

It was nothing more than a line of stones, barely showing above the decaying vegetation of the forest floor. But the boy's swift vision had already taken in the fact that the line was straight and true, and that the stones were held together by crumbling remains of mortar.

CHAPTER XXII

AROUND THE COUNCIL FIRE

Dale's first impulse was to summon the others with a jubilant shout. His lips parted swiftly, but closed again as he remembered the nearness of Wes Becker's crowd. It would never do to let them suspect.

"Frank!" he called in a low tone. "Come over here--quick!"

Sanson responded instantly "Found anything?" he demanded, as he plunged through the bushes. Then his eyes fell on the line of ruined masonry and he caught his breath. "Gee!" he exclaimed delightedly. "That certainly looks like--"

"Sh-h!" cautioned Tompkins. "Wes and his bunch are not far off--right up the hill: we mustn't put them wise, or they'll all come piling down here. You get Ranny and Court, and I'll tell the others."

They quickly separated, and in less than three minutes the others had hastened to the spot. As he took in the bit of old wall Ranny Phelps'

eyes brightened and he looked at Tompkins.

"I guess you've hit it, old man," he said warmly. "There'd hardly be any other foundation in this jungle. Let's sc.r.a.pe away the leaves and mold a little and see if we can't find a corner."

Eagerly they fell to work, and before long had uncovered two sides of a rough stone rectangle, some eighteen by thirty feet, and even unearthed the ends of a couple of tough, hand-hewn oak beams which had fallen in and become covered with dead leaves and other debris. About the middle of one side was a solid, square ma.s.s of stone that looked as if it might have been the base of a forge or smelting-furnace. But there was no chance to proceed further, for Ranny suddenly jerked out his watch and gave an exclamation of dismay.

"Gos.h.!.+ Almost four o'clock. We've got to start back right away."

"Aw--gee! Let's take just a few minutes more," begged several voices at once.

"Nothing doing," returned Ranny, decidedly. "If we're not back at four-thirty, they'll think we've found something, and we don't want that. We've got something definite to start from next time; and if we keep it to ourselves, we'll have a fine and dandy chance of putting it over on the rest of the camp. Everybody get busy and hustle some leaves and stuff over the wall so n.o.body else'll stumble on it by accident."

In a very short time practically all traces of their explorations had been covered over, and the fellows started back at a brisk pace. They were able to return much more quickly than they had come out, and reached the meeting-place in good season to find, with not a little secret satisfaction, that none of the other parties had met with success.

"But you fellows mustn't let that discourage you," said Mr. Reed, briskly. "As I told you before, you can't expect to locate in an hour or so something that's been lost for nearly a hundred years. We'll try it again about Sat.u.r.day, and--"