CHAPTER III. WHEN BUMPUS CLIMBED OVER THE FENCE.
A brief silence followed these words of the patrol leader. Then the boyswere seen to nod their heads knowingly. It was evident that, once theyhad their suspicions aroused by Thad, every fellow could see what adreadful mistake had been made.
"Well, I should say now that Wandering George was half a foot taller'neither of these fellows!" declared Bumpus, being the first to control histongue, which was something remarkable, since as a rule he was as slow ofspeech as he was with regard to moving, on account of his weight.
"And had red hair in the bargain!" added Step Hen.
"Oh! everybody's doing it now," mocked Davy Jones; "and I can see thatthere ain't the first sign of an old faded blue army overcoat anywherearound _this_ camp."
"After all, who cares?" exclaimed Giraffe, as he lowered his threateninggun; an act that doubtless gave the two tramps much solid satisfaction."All of us felt mean and sore because our fine tracking game had come tosuch a sudden end. Now there's still a chance we'll meet up with a fewcrackerjack adventures before we pick the prize. I say bully all around!"
Davy Jones immediately threw himself into an acrobatic position, andwaved both of his feet wildly in the air, as though he felt that thesituation might be beyond weak words, and called for something strongerin order to express his exuberant feelings.
"Yes, all of those things would be enough to convince us we've made amistake," remarked Thad; "and if we want any further proof here it isright before us."
He pointed to the ground as he spoke. There were a number of footprintsin the half dried mud close to the border of the road, evidently made bythe two men as they walked back and forth collecting dead wood for theircooking fire.
"You're right, Thad," commented Allan Hollister, who of course instantlysaw what the other meant when he pointed in that way. "We settled it longago that we ought to know Wandering George any time we came up with him,simply because he's got a rag tied around his right shoe to keep it onhis foot, it's that old, and going to flinders. Neither of these men hasneed to do that; in fact, if you notice, they've both got shoes on thatlook nearly new!"
At that one of the tramps hastened to speak, as though he began to fearthat as it was so remarkable a thing for a road roamer to be wearing goodfootgear, they were liable to arrest as having stolen the same.
"Say, we done a little turn for a cobbler two days back, over inHooptown, an' he give us the shoes. Said he fixed 'em fur customers whatdidn't ever come back to pay the charges; didn't we, Smikes?"
"We told him his barn was on fire, sure we did, an' helped him trow wateron, an' keep the thing from burnin' down. He gives us a hunky dinner, an'trows de trilbies in fur good measure. But dey hurts us bad, an' we wasjest a-sayin' we wishes we had de ole uns back agin. If it wa'n't so coldwe'd take 'em off right now, and go bare-footed, wouldn't we, Jake?"
"Oh! well, it doesn't matter to us where you got the shoes," said Thad."We happen to be looking for another man, and thought one of you might behim. So go on with your cooking; and, Giraffe, where's that knuckle ofham you said you hated to lug any further, but which you thought it a sinto throw away? Perhaps we might hand the same over to Smikes and Jake, topay up for having given them such a bad scare."
This caused the two tramps to grin in anxious anticipation; and whenGiraffe only too willingly extracted the said remnant of a half ham whichthe scouts had started with, they eagerly seized upon it.
"It's all right, young fellers," remarked the one who had been calledSmikes, as he clutched the prize; "we ain't a-carin' if we gits the samekind o' a skeer 'bout once a day reg'lar-like, hey, Jake? Talk tuh me'bout dinner rainin' down frum the clouds, this beats my time holler. Cumagin, boys, an' do it sum more."
Thad knew it was folly to stay any longer at the camp, but before leavinghe wished to put a question to the men.
"We're looking for a fellow who calls himself Wandering George," he wenton to say. "Just now he's wearing an old faded blue army overcoat thatwas given to him by a lady who didn't know that her husband valued it asa keepsake. So we just offered to find it for him, and give George adollar or so to make up. Have either of you seen a man wearing a bluecoat like that?"
"Nixey, mister," replied Jake promptly.
"Say, I used to wear a blue overcoat, like them, when I was marchin' furole Unc Sam in the Spanish war, fool thet I was; but honest to goodnessnow I ain't set eyes on the like this three years an' more," the secondtramp asserted.
"That settles it, then, fellows!" ejaculated Step Hen, with a note of joyin his voice; "we've got to go on further, and run our quarry down. Andlet me tell you I'm tickled nearly to death because it's turned out so."
"Who be you boys, anyhow?" asked Smikes. "Air ye what we hears calledscouts?"
"Just what we are," replied Allan. "That's why we think it's so much funto follow this Wandering George, and trade him a big silver dollar forthe old coat the lady gave him when she saw he made out to be cold.Scouts are crazy to do all kinds of things like that, you know."
"Well, dew tell," muttered the tramp, shaking his head; "I don't git onter the trick, fur a fact. If 'twar me now, I'd rather be a-settin' in awarm room waitin' tuh hear the dinner horn blow."
"Oh! we all like to hear that, let me tell you," asserted Giraffe, whowas unusually fond of eating; "but we get tired of home cooking, andthings taste so fine when you're in camp."
"Huh! mebbe so, when yuh got plenty o' the right kind o' stuff along,"observed the man who gripped the ham bone that Giraffe had tossed him,"but yuh'd think a heap different, let me tell yuh, if ever any of thelot knowed wat it meant tuh be as hungry as a wolf, and nawthin' tuhsatisfy it with. But then there seems tuh be all kinds o' people in thisole world; an' they jest kaint understand each other noways."
Thad saw that the tramp was rather a queer customer, and something alongthe order of a hobo philosopher; but he had no more time just then tostand and talk with him out of idle curiosity.
So he gave the order, and the scouts, wheeling around, strode out uponthe road, their faces set toward the east. The last they saw of the twotramps was just before turning a bend in the road they looked back andsaw that the men were apparently hard at work dividing the remnant of theham that had been turned over by the boys as some sort of solace tosoothe their wounded feelings.
Half a mile further on and the woods gave place to cultivated fields andpastures, although of course it was too early in the season for much workto be done by the farmers, except where they were hauling fertilizer tomake ready for the first plowing.
"If we get the chance, boys, to-night, let's sleep in a barn," suggestedGiraffe, as he rubbed his right shank as though it might pain him. "Wherewe lay last night it seemed to me a million roots and stones kept pushinginto my body till I was black and blue this morning. And I always didlike to nestle down in good sweet hay. I don't blame tramps for takingthe chance every opportunity that opens. What do the rest of you say tothat?"
"It strikes me favorably," Step Hen quickly admitted.
"Oh! any old place is good enough for me," sighed Bumpus.
"If you can only be sure there are no rats around, I believe I'd enjoysleeping in a hay mow," Davy told them.
"I've never had the experience," remarked Smithy with a shrug of hisshoulders, and a grimace; "and I must confess I don't hanker much for it.Bad enough to have to roll up in your own blanket any old time; butspiders and hornets and all that horrible set are to be found inhaylofts, they tell me. I'm more afraid of them than an alligator or awild bull. A gypsy once told me I would die from poison bites, and eversince I've had to be mighty careful."
Of course the rest of the scouts had to laugh to hear Smithy confess thathe believed in the prophecy of a gypsy, or any other fake fortune-teller.
"I wouldn't lie awake a minute," ventured Step Hen, "if a dozen gypsiestold me I was going to break my neck falling out of bed. Fact is, I'mbuilt so contrary that like as n
ot I'd hunt up the highest bed I couldfind to sleep on. I do everything on Friday I can think of; and when thethirteenth of the month comes around I'm always looking out to see how Ican tempt fate. Ain't an ounce of superstition in my whole body, I guess.Fortune-tellers! Bah! you ought to have been a girl, Smithy."
"Oh! well, I didn't say I _believed_ I'd die by poison, did I?" demandedthe other adroitly; "I'm only explaining that I don't mean to let thesilly prophecy come true by taking hazards that are quite unnecessary."
"Seems to me we've been walking like hot cakes ever since we said good-byto Smikes and Jake," observed Bumpus, who was puffing a little from hisexertions; "and Thad, would you mind if we took a little breathing spellabout now? Just see how inviting this pile of old fence rails looksalongside the road. I hope you say yes, Thad, because I want to get fitto keep on the go till dark comes along."
"No objections to favoring you, Bumpus," Thad told him; "and if lookscount for anything I rather think all the rest of us will be glad of achance to rest up a little. So drop down, and take things easy, boys.I'll give you ten minutes here."
"Look sharp before you sit down!" warned Smithy, who had disengaged hisblanket, as though meaning to use it for a soft cushion--time was when heinvariably brushed a board or other intended resting-place with hishandkerchief before sitting down; but the other scouts had long agolaughed him out of this habit, which jarred upon their nerves as hardlyconsistent with rough-and-ready scout life.
Giraffe had a most remarkable pair of eyes. He often discovered thingsthat no one else had any suspicion existed. On this account, as well asthe fact that he was able to see further and more accurately than hischums, he was sometimes designated as "Old Eagle Eye," and the employmentof that name invariably gave him more or less pleasure, since itproclaimed his superiority in the line of observation.
Giraffe was also a great hand for practical jokes. When some idea flashedinto his mind he often gave little heed to the possible result, butimmediately felt impelled to put his scheme into practice, with the soleidea of creating a laugh, of course with another scout as the victim.
They had hardly been sitting there five minutes when Giraffe might havebeen heard chuckling softly to himself, though no one seemed to pay anyparticular attention to him.
He elevated that long neck of his once or twice as if desirous of makingsure concerning a certain point before going any further. Then, whensatisfied on this score, he glanced from one to another of hiscompanions, evidently seeking a victim.
When his gaze, after going along the entire line, returned once more toplump, good-natured Bumpus, who had now ceased puffing, and was lookingrested, it might be set down as certain that there was trouble of somesort in store for the red-haired, freckle-faced scout.
Now Giraffe was a sharp schemer. He knew how to go about his business ina way least calculated to arouse suspicion.
Instead of immediately blurting out what he had in mind, he started to"beating around the bush," seeking to first disarm his intended victim bydrawing him into a little discussion.
Before another full minute had passed Thad noticed that Giraffe andBumpus were warmly discussing some matter, and that the stout scoutseemed to be unusually in earnest. Doubtless, this was on account of thesly assertions which Giraffe inflicted upon him, the tall scout being apast master when it came to giving little digs that hurt worse than pinsthrust into one's flesh.
"I tell you I _can_ do it!" Bumpus was heard to say stubbornly.
"Don't believe you'd ever come within a mile of making it, and that goes,Bumpus." Giraffe went on as though he might be a Doubting Thomas whocould only be convinced by actual contact; "and tell you what I'll do toprove I'm in earnest. If you make it in three trials, straddling the limbwhile my watch is counting a whole minute, I'll hand over that finecompass you always liked so much. How's that, Bumpus; are you game toshow us, or have I dared you to a standstill?"
"What, _me_ back down for a little thing like that? Well, you just watchme make you eat your words, Giraffe!"
So saying the fat scout clambered up over the rail fence, and dropped inthe open pasture beyond.
"What's he going to do?" asked Thad, as they saw Bumpus start on awaddling sort of gait toward a tree that stood by itself some littledistance from the fence, and with a clump of bushes not far away.
He looked a little suspiciously at Giraffe, who immediately stopped hischuckling, and tried to draw a solemn face, though he shut one eye in ahumorous fashion.
"Why, he started to boast that he had been doing some fine climbinglately," explained the tall scout; "and I dared him to go over and get upin that tree while I held the watch on him. He's got to start climbingand make it inside of sixty seconds; and between you and me, Thad, Ireckon now he might manage it in half that time--if hard pushed."
"You've got some game started, Giraffe; what is it?" asked the patrolleader, as he turned again and watched the portly scout moving like aponderous machine toward the tree which Giraffe had mentioned as a partof the contract.
Giraffe did not need to answer, for at that very second there came whatseemed to be a loud bellow of rage from over in the field somewhere.Looking hastily through the bars of the fence, the seven boys saw aspectacle that thrilled them with various emotions.
From out of the sheltering bushes, where those keen roving eyes ofGiraffe must have discovered her presence, came a dun-colored cow.Possibly her calf had recently been taken from her by the butcher, forshe was furious toward all humankind. Her tail was held in the air, andas she ran straight toward poor Bumpus she stopped for a moment severaltimes to toss a cloud of earth up with her hoofs, for she had no horns,Thad noted, which was at least one thing favoring Bumpus.
Boy Scouts Along the Susquehanna; or, The Silver Fox Patrol Caught in a Flood Page 3