CHAPTER XXI.
STEP-HEN'S STRATEGY FAILS.
"Don't throw your straws away yet, fellows;" remarked Allan, after thedrawing had come to a conclusion; "Thad has something more to say."
"Yes," remarked the patrol leader, smiling; "after talking it over withAllan, who will be left in charge here during our absence, I'veconcluded to take a second scout along. Three will be better than two,in case of any trouble."
"Trouble! Oh! my stars!"
It was Bumpus who said this; and he actually turned pale as he glanceddown at the short stick he held in his hand. What if after all he shouldturn out to be the ill-fated one chosen to cross again to the island? Hethought it would be just his luck.
"Now, it's only right that the one who has the next shortest stickshould be the second fellow in the boat with me," Thad went on; "solet's compare lengths again, boys."
Some came up anxiously, actually hoping they might be the lucky one;while others were indifferent; because there had been an interestingprogramme laid out for that morning's work, and they should hate tomiss the "wigwagging" with signal flags; as well as more of Allan'strail talks, which were so great.
"Davy Jones, you go!" remarked Thad, after the various "straws" had beencompared, and his was found to be the shortest.
Davy gave a pleased grunt and his face glowed with delight. If there wasone fellow in the patrol whose soul seemed to crave excitement, and theelement of danger, it was the Jones' boy. When everything else failed hewas in the habit of climbing a tree, and ascending to a dizzy height,perform some of his astonishing gymnastics there. No wonder they calledhim "Monkey" at times.
"Me for another chance to hook a three pound bass, if I can get a fewminnows with that little seine made of mosquito net," announced Giraffe,after they had cleaned up the breakfast dishes, and the camp looked spicand span as a camp always should look when boys are being taught how tolive in the woods.
"Of course you are; though we've got plenty to eat besides fish,"remarked Step-hen; "but they sure did taste mighty fine, Giraffe; andI'll take a turn with you along the shore. We can get on without theboat, I reckon."
"Count me in that job, if Allan will let me go along," Bumpus declared,showing considerable interest.
"If you do come, the chances are three to one you'll trip on some vine,or stone, and take a header into the lake," remarked Giraffe.
"Well, what if I did, I know how to swim, don't I?" burst out Bumpus,who seemed to be carrying "a chip on his shoulder," these days, as someof the boys declared.
"Course you do, Bumpus," said Step-hen, coming to the defense of the fatboy in rather a strange manner, Bumpus thought; "I wouldn't be surprisedif you could give Giraffe a race, and beat him out. He never will be afirst-class scout when it comes to the water tricks; though if you hungup a whole ham as a price it might make him stir himself some."
Of course Giraffe was indignant.
"Why, I could beat Bumpus with one hand tied behind me!" he declared.
"Oh! you don't say so?" mocked Step-hen, who for some reason seemeddesirous of arousing the feeling of rivalry between these two scouts,and egged them on as a boy who loved to see dogs fight, would sick oneon the other. "Mebbe, you'd be willing to back up that assertion rightnow, and prove your boast?"
"I'm willing, if he says he wants to try it out!" snapped the arousedGiraffe, who at any rate was not lacking in spunk.
Bumpus, too, seemed to be fully aroused. The other boys crowded around,with wide grins, because they fancied it would be rather a comical sightto see a race between the fat boy, who had only recently learned toswim, and made a tremendous splashing in the water; and Giraffe, who wasa clumsy water dog at best, with one arm tied down to his side.
Just then Bumpus happened to look at Step-hen. He could not helpnoticing how unduly the other seemed tickled at the prospect. And thenand there a sudden terrible suspicion gripped hold of Bumpus.
Now, there could be no particular reason why Step-hen should want to seehim enter for this queer water race, unless he had some deep motivebehind it. What could that motive be? Did the artful scout expect tofind a chance for searching his, Bumpus' clothes, while he was in thelake, engaged in an exciting competition with Giraffe; and all the otherfellows having their attention centered on the race?
"Oh! he believes he can find out something that way; and he's justpushing me in over my head so I'll leave my clothes on the bank, and hec'n search 'em!" was what Bumpus was now saying to himself.
Indignation filled his honest soul. Thank goodness he was too smart tofall into such a silly little trap. Step-hen would have had all histrouble for his pains.
So Bumpus, looking the other straight in the eyes, went on to say:
"Come to think of it, we'll have to call the race off for to-day. Ipromised my folks that I wouldn't go in swimming more'n once each day.To-morrow morning then, Giraffe, I'll promise to go you just as we said,you to have one arm working. And I warn you right now you'll have to doyour best, unless you want to be left in the lurch, because I'm learningfast."
Step-hen certainly looked very much disappointed. There was a sneer, aswell as a shadow on his face, as he remarked scornfully:
"Huh! you take water, eh, Bumpus?"
"Only once a day," replied the fat boy, calmly; and yet the look he gaveStep-hen told the other that his clever scheme had been understood.
Of course the action of Bumpus in calling the race off convincedStep-hen more than ever that the fat boy did have his precious compass.If it was not in that old haversack then, he had, as Step-hen suspected,transferred the same to one of his pockets; and was even then carryingit around, in defiance of the owner.
Now Step-hen could have ended all this disturbance by appealing straightto the scout-master, who would have asked Bumpus to tell on his honor ifhe had what did not belong to him. But it did not suit the boy to dothis. He was naturally rather obstinate, and had a bulldog nature.
"I started out to recapture that compass on my own account, and I ain'tgoing to play the baby act now, and ask Thad to get it for me, no siree.Just you wait, Bumpus Hawtree, and see if I don't find some way to foolyou. It's in one of those pockets of yours that stick out so; and sooneror later I'll prove it before the rest of the troop."
Step-hen was saying this to himself as he watched the three, who wereto go to the mysterious island, finishing their preparations for thejourney across the lake. But apparently the fat boy had alreadyforgotten all about the trouble. He had a disposition that could notharbor resentment any great length of time. Like a little summer stormit quickly blew over; and Bumpus was then the same smiling, genialcomrade, ready to do anything to oblige his late antagonist.
Thad did not have many preparations to make, however. Most of his timewas spent in talking with Allan, and arranging for the work that was tobe done that morning, in showing the balance of the patrol numerousinteresting things connected with scout life.
"I reckon we'll be back in time for lunch," he remarked, when Davycalled out to say the boat was ready; "but to make sure we won't gohungry each of us is carrying what Bob calls a 'snack,' along withus--some ham between crackers."
"Well," said Allan, who secretly wished he might be going along too;"here's hoping you learn something about the queer men who have beenusing that island for some purpose or other."
"I hope so, too," replied Thad; "because, somehow, they've aroused asort of curiosity in me. They seem to hide from us, as if they didn'twant anybody to see what kind of fellows they were. Why, all the timewe've been here they must have known about us, and could even see ourflag flying from the pole in front of the tents; yet they've never asmuch as said 'good morning' to us."
"Never a peep," Allan went on to say. "And that makes me think there'ssure something crooked about 'em. I wish----"
"Now I know what you're going to say," broke in Thad, with a smile; "youfeel bad because I didn't fetch my double-barrel gun along on this trip.Well, between you and me, I do, myself. It would have been
a whole lotof comfort right now. But you know, Boy Scouts don't want to look toomuch like soldiers. Some of the town people talked a heap about notwanting their sons to join a military company; and we had troubleconvincing them that the scouts didn't have a thing to do with armylife. That's why we've only been able to organize one patrol up to now.But the feel of that little twelve bore would be good this morning, evenif game laws stood between me and getting a few partridges."
"Please hurry up your stumps, Thad!" called Davy, who was wild witheagerness to get moving; for he had envied those who were allowed to goto the island on the preceding day, and felt anxious to set foot on theenchanted ground, where mysterious strangers seemed to have their abode,yet could not be found.
"That's all I wanted to say, Allan," the scout-master concluded; "and asDavy will have one of his fits soon, if I don't get off, I reckon I'llstart. If we fail to show up at noon, why, don't worry. Nothing is goingto hurt any of us, that I can see."
The rest of the scouts gathered at the water's edge to see them embarkon the exploring expedition; and all sorts of chaffing was indulged inbetween Davy and some of his camp mates. Bumpus in particular was sopleased over not having been drafted to go in the cranky canoe that heseemed to be just bubbling over with exuberant spirits.
When the boat had gone some fifty yards from the shore he drew out hisbugle, kept hidden up to then, and sent the most mournful notes acrossthe water after the departing voyagers. It was so like a funeral dirgethat Davy Jones thrust his fingers in his ears; and then shook a fist atthe stout bugler; who however kept on with his sad refrain until Allanput a stop to it.
And so the scout-master backed, by his two valiant assistants, set outto learn what the secret of the mysterious island might be; nor did anyof the trio suspect right then in the beginning of the voyage whatstrange results would follow this invasion of the haunt of the unknownprowlers.
The Boy Scouts' First Camp Fire; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox Patrol Page 21