Boy Scouts in the Northwest; Or, Fighting Forest Fires

by G. Harvey Ralphson

  CHAPTER XI.--THE LUCK OF A BOWERY BOY.

  Jimmie opened his eyes and looked about. It was a gloomy niche in aperpendicular wall that he looked out of. Rock to right and left andrear. In front a velvet summer sky, with stars winking over a vaststretch of broken country. There was a ledge a foot in width outside theentrance to the niche, but the boy could not see how long it was, orwhere it led to.

  His head ached and there was a drawing sensation to the skin of hisforehead and right cheek, as if some sticky substance had congealedthere. When he reached a hand up to see what the trouble was he foundthat his head was tied up in a cloth. There was no one in sight to askquestions of, so he arose to a sitting position and leaned forward.

  The action brought on a whirl of dizziness, and he dropped back againstthe wall for support. He knew then that he had received a hard blow onthe head, and that he had lost considerable blood. Once before in hislife he had felt that dizzy weakness, and that was after an artery hadbeen cut in his leg and he had nearly bled to death before reaching ahospital.

  When he lay back trying to get something like a balance in his brain, hesaw that it was near midnight. He knew that by the stars, for he hadwatched them many a hot night, lying on his back on a dray backed upsome alley down near the East river, in New York.

  There were certain stars which always occupied just such a position atmidnight in New York. He did not know their names, but he knew that atmidnight in Montana they would not be so far advanced across the sky.Therefore he looked for the stars as they appeared at nine o'clock onthe Atlantic. When he found them he knew from their location that it hadbeen something over an hour since he had left Ned and the aeroplane.

  The three hours difference in time between New York and Montana--threehours in round numbers--would make the midnight stars three hours late,of course. Anyway, the boy was pretty certain of the time.

  Then his mind went back to Ned and the aeroplane, and the canyon in frontof the landing place. He recalled the stop, and remembered leaving Nedto see what was doing in the way of forest fires. He remembered, too,getting up on a high rock to look over at the creeping flames.

  But strange to say he did not remember getting down again. The nextthing on the record of his mind was that niche in the wall and the starsshining down out of a summer sky, the same stars he had looked at in oldNew York. Of course he had been struck the blow he had received whilemounting the rock, otherwise he would know something of the attack.

  His mind did not have to travel along the records of the past very farto convince him that he had made a mistake in leaving Ned. Of course hehad been "geezled" by the outlaws, as he expressed it, and of course theboys would delay the business they were on in order to look himup--which, he reluctantly admitted to himself, would be a waste of time,as any boy capable of doing such foolish stunts certainly was not worththe trouble of looking up.

  Presently the pain in his head became less violent and the dizziness ina measure passed away. Then he pushed out to the edge of the ledge andsat with his feet hanging over. It was a straight drop down. Below hecould see a stream of water running along the bottom of the canyon.

  Out, perhaps two hundred yards from his resting place, he saw a slopehalf covered with trees. He looked down into the gulf in the hope ofseeing the aeroplane, but it was not in sight. Ned must have taken itaway. Or he might have been overpowered and the machine broken up.

  Of course the outlaws would break up the machine if they securedpossession of it. They would not dare use it in that region, and it wasabout as handy a thing to ship away secretly as a white elephant.

  There were no lights in sight anywhere, save a slight glow of coals awaydown at the bottom of the canyon. That might be the remains of theaeroplane, or it might be a bit of forest fire which had not burneditself out. Very much disgusted with himself, the boy leaned farther outwondering if there wasn't a ledge which wound its way to the bottom ofthe canyon, or to the summit above.

  So intently was he studying on this proposition that he did not hearfootsteps approaching, nor did he realize that there was any human beingnear him until he felt a hand laid lightly on his shoulder.

  "Be careful, young man," the voice said, "or you'll get another tumble.How do you feel by this time?"

  "Fine!" cried the boy, turning a pair of astonished eyes toward thesouth, where a bulky personage stood blocking the ledge to the extent ofobscuration.

  "Well, don't take any more chances, then," said the bulky person, andJimmie was forced, not ungently, back into the niche.

  The man entered after the boy and threw himself down on the stone floorof the cut in the wall of the canyon. He was short and stout, with adouble chin and a pointed forehead which gave his face the appearance ofbeing engraved on a lemon. He was quite bald, and his hair, that whichremained, was turning gray. His eyes were steel blue, and his mouth onelong, thin-lipped slit between fat cheeks.

  Jimmie did not like his looks at all, and he resented the patronizingvoice and manner. So he leaned sullenly against the wall and waited forthe other to open the conversation. He had not long to wait, for the manwas busy in a moment.

  "How did you get that fall?" he asked.

  So, Jimmie thought, they were going to claim that he had a fall, andthat they had found him, and cared for him gently, and were now ready todo anything in the world for his comfort. The boy decided that thecorrect course for him to pursue was to follow the lead of the other.

  "Guess I slipped off a rock," he said, knowing very well that he hadbeen knocked off his feet so suddenly that he had instantly lostconsciousness.

  "What were you doing there?" was the next question.

  "Why, I had been out in the aeroplane, and I got out to see if theforest fire I saw was going to be anything serious, and then I tumbled."

  "Where is the boy who was with you in the aeroplane?" asked the other.

  Jimmie replied that he had no idea, which was, of course, the answerexpected of him. His questioner remained silent a moment, looking outover the rugged land to the east. When he spoke again it was to ask:

  "What are you doing in the Rocky Mountains?"

  Jimmie thought that was a cheeky question, and a useless one, for he hadno doubt that the fellow knew nearly as much about his business as hedid about his own.

  "We're on a vacation," he replied. "Five of us have a camp over on theother side of the divide. We're just playing prospectors."

  "Very nice vacation for you all," the other said, "but you ought to bemore careful with your fires. You started a large conflagrationyesterday."

  So the Boy Scouts were to be accused of that! Jimmie wished at thatmoment that the other boys were there. He wanted to tell this fathypocrite what he thought of him and stand a fair show in the fracaswhich might follow.

  "I don't think we set any fires," he said. "The fires started a long wayfrom our camp."

  "I know what I'm talking about," the other said.

  Jimmie did not reply. He was wondering what would be the next move ofthe fat party, and whether Ned or the boys left in camp would be out tolook him up before the morning.

  "I am in charge of this district," the other went on. "I'm CaptainSlocum of the forestry force."

  Jimmie did not believe it, but did not say so. He only stared at theother in a manner which nettled his dignity.

  "I have been watching you boys ever since you have been here," CaptainSlocum went on. "I didn't know what you were up to, and so I watched."

  "Yes, sir," said Jimmie, quite humbly, though angry enough to fight theman single-handed.

  "It seems that you have left forest fires wherever you have camped,"Slocum went on, with an all-knowing air. "To-night I sent a party offoresters over to the camp to arrest you all."

  "Yes, sir," replied Jimmie again, shutting his lips hard in order toprevent saying a great deal more.

  "Do you think they will find this Ned Nestor there?" Slocum asked, then.

  "I don't know whether he could get his machine back to the ca
mp," Jimmiereplied.

  "Well, wouldn't he go without it?"

  "No, sir; I don't think he would, unless it was certain that he couldnot take it with him."

  "We'll find him, anyway," Slocum continued.

  "Where are you goin' to take us for trial?" Jimmie asked.

  "We'll have to consider that part of the matter later on," was thereply. "The first thing for us to do is to lock you up good and tightand stop the setting of forest fires."

  "Yes, sir," replied Jimmie, still humbly, but still thinking what hewould do to this fat falsifier if he ever got a chance.

  "I'm glad you confess," Slocum said.

  "I didn't," said Jimmie.

  "Why, yes, you did," insisted the other. "You admitted setting thefires."

  Jimmie made no reply. Far down in the canyon he saw a glint of flame. Itwas not a forest fire. It was not even the red light of a campfire or alantern. The light was white, and the boy knew it for what it was--anelectric searchlight, such as Ned always carried on his aeroplane trips.

  Slocum did not seem to see the light. His eyes were fixed on the face ofthe boy he was talking with, although the features did not show verydistinctly in the dim light of the night.

  "Well, to tell you the truth, we've already captured this Ned Nestor,"Slocum added, maliciously, Jimmie thought, "and no doubt my men havealso captured those at the camp. Nestor broke a leg in trying to getaway, but when he was fairly cornered he confessed everything."

  "Yes, sir," answered Jimmie.

  There was nothing else the boy could say without putting himself in theway of a beating. If he had expressed his opinion of this story no doubthe would have been given physical punishment for his frankness.

  "And so," Slocum smiled, "you may as well continue the confession youbegan."

  Jimmie recognized this as clumsy work in the third degree, but he didnot say so. He was watching the light below. Now it disappeared behind agreat rock or tree. Now it came out in the opening again and moved aboutin a circle.

  "Ned is examining his 'plane, preparatory to going back to camp," theboy thought. "Wonder if he's been all this time lookin' for me?"

  The boy paid little attention to what Slocum said after this. Most ofthe time he was looking into the sky, or anywhere rather than where histhoughts were fixed. He had no intention of directing the gaze of thealleged forester to what was going on in the canyon.

  Directly he saw the flashlight flutter over the white planes then becomestationary. Ned, he knew, was getting ready to make a flight. He couldimagine what the boy's feelings were, for he knew Ned's affection forhim. Indeed, it was with a heavy heart that the patrol leader left theplace without Jimmie.

  "And there is also a suspicion that you boys are interested in gettingopium over the border without settling with Uncle Sam," Jimmie heardSlocum saying, as he watched the aeroplane move forward, lift for amoment, and then drop down out of sight. He knew of the precipice justahead of the machine, and trembled for fear that Ned had not been ableto lift the aeroplane, but had tumbled into the canyon with it.

  "Anyway," Slocum continued, "we shall place you under arrest for settingfire to the woods and also for smuggling."

  Just at that moment Jimmie was not at all interested in what Slocum wassaying to him. He took no interest whatever in any threat made by thefellow. He was watching the canyon for some sign of the reappearance ofthe aeroplane.

  After what seemed an eternity to the lad he saw the light again, thistime higher up than before. It was lifting slowly, turning round andround in a spiral, and Jimmie knew that there was no room to mount intothe sky in a straight line. Ned's control of the machine was wonderful,and it lifted gradually until it was above the line of the hills on theother side and shot away to the west.

  Then Slocum saw it. Jimmie blamed himself for calling his attention toit by lifting his head to follow the flight across the sky.

  "There is another aeroplane," Slocum said.

  Jimmie could not restrain a laugh, which intruded oddly enough on thetense silence of the moment.

  "You don't think it is Nestor, do you?" Slocum asked.

  "Yes, sir," replied Jimmie, still humbly.

  "But he must have taken a drop down the canyon," urged Slocum.

  "Yes, sir," replied Jimmie, "but you said you had captured him!"

  Slocum eyed the boy with rage in his eyes. He knew very well that whilehe had been telling of Ned's capture and confession, Jimmie had beenwatching his chum get his aeroplane out of the canyon.

  "You haven't even thanked me for getting you out of the mess I found youin, and doctoring up your wound," he said, presently, resolved to keepon good terms with the boy for a short time longer, if it was possibleto do so.

  "Thank you, sir!" Jimmie said, very modestly. "I think I must havereceived a good bump on the head."

  "Indeed you did," smiled the other.

  After a little further talk Slocum led the boy away to a cavern in thewall of the canyon which seemed to the weary lad to have no end. He sawseveral people lounging about as he passed through a large chamber, butpaid little attention to them.

  At last Slocum halted in a little alcove opening from a second chamber,in which were assembled at least a score of Chinamen.

  "These people won't harm you," he said to the boy, swinging his armabout to include the group. "Uncle Sam is trying them out in the forestservice, I don't think much of the idea myself, but I'm not the boss."

  Then Slocum went away and Jimmie lay down and watched the Chinamen.Listening, he heard one of them speaking in English, then in Chinese. Heknew that he had heard that peculiar voice and dialect before anddevoted his whole attention to the fellow.

  "Well," he muttered, in a moment, with a grin, "I'm havin' the luck of aBowery boy in this deal, an' that is the greatest luck in the world."

  Then he fell to wondering what Chang Chee, the keeper of one of theworst Chinese restaurants on Doyers street was doing there, in the heartof the Rocky Mountains, mixed up with alleged foresters.

  "Just wait until I see Ned!" the boy mused. "I'll put him next tosomethin'. He'll be glad he brought me with him!"

  Then the boy's thoughts went back to the camp in the Valley of the WildBeasts, as he called it. Slocum might have told the truth about theattack on the boys, and they might be in trouble at that moment. Hewondered, too, if, in case they were taken prisoners, they would bebrought to the cavern.

  "Anyhow," the lad mused, "they never intend to let me get out of this.If they did, they wouldn't have permitted me a sight of the Chinks.Unless I sneak away, there'll be an accident some day, an' then there'llbe no more Jimmie McGraw!"

  The boy was tired and weak, so that even such serious thoughts as thesecould not keep him awake. Wondering what conditions Ned had found at thecamp, after soaring out of the canyon, he dropped his head against thestone wall of the alcove and was soon in a deep sleep. The fumes ofopium with which the cavern was filled might in a measure havecontributed to this, but, anyway, nature was exhausted, and the boy'sslumber was heavy and dreamless.