Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour,

by George A. Warren

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE CHASE

  Paul looked again, and more closely.

  The light from the fire was becoming fickle. Once in a while the flamewould start up, and give quite some little illumination. Then dying downlower than ever, it allowed a condition of half darkness to prevail.

  Of course it had been during one of these former periods that Paul madehis startling discovery; and he waited in considerable suspense untilthe flame took a notion to feed upon another little stock of tinder.

  Could it really be a bear up there in that big oak, the branches ofwhich reached out, and shook hands with those of other trees? Paulchuckled at the idea; it was so absurd. Save for an occasional travelingItalian with a trained bear, no such animal had been known to exist inall this section for many years.

  A bobcat then? That was very nearly as impossible. Still, the hastyglimpse he had secured told him that it was at least larger than araccoon or a 'possum, animals frequently seen in the vicinity ofStanhope.

  Well, what was to hinder a _boy_ from coming into competition with otherthings, when an explanation of the mystery was sought? Some boys canclimb like monkeys; and he knew of several who would think little ornothing of making their way from one tree to another, when the greatlimbs interlocked.

  There, the flame again began to show up, and dispell the gloom. Eagerlydid Paul make use of his eyes; nor was he disappointed this time.

  There _was_ a swinging object dangling from the limb on which he hadfastened his gaze. Even though the light proved so deceptive Paul knewthat he was looking at a hanging boy, caught in the act of changing hislocation by the sudden return of the light, and meaning to remain stillin the hope of escaping discovery.

  Were there others also in the oak? Could it be that the entire Slavincrowd had managed to elude their vigilance, and was now hovering overthe camp, ready to carry out some dark plot?

  Paul did not believe this possible. Only an expert climber might succeedin accomplishing such a clever feat. He considered a minute, and thenfelt certain that he could give a guess concerning the identity of theone aloft.

  Among the partisans of Ted was a fellow named Eggleston, who wasusually known among his fellows as "Monkey." This because of hisfondness for doing all manner of wonderful tricks on a trapese or theparallel bars. He could hang by his toes from the limb of a tree, andnever seemed alarmed in the slightest degree because twenty or more feetlay between his dangling figure and the earth below.

  Of course, then, this was Monkey Eggleston. He had received his ordersfrom Ted, and was carrying them out with more or less delight. Paulcalculated that he intended to drop down into the centre of the camp,unseen, his presence unsuspected by the sentries, who would be lookingthe other way for signs of trouble.

  Then what?

  A vicious boy let loose in a camp for half an hour, with a good sharpknife in his possession, can do a tremendous amount of destruction. Why,he might begin by cutting the bags that held their sugar, so that everybit of it mixed with the soil and was lost. Half a dozen other thingsseemed to flash through Paul's mind as he crouched there and watched thedimly seen figure descending slowly from limb to limb.

  Two courses were open to the scout leader. He could shout out, and bringevery sleeper dashing from the tents; after which the tree might besurrounded, and the spy compelled to surrender. Then again he couldwait and watch.

  His curiosity was aroused to some extent. He really wondered what thegame of Monkey Eggleston could be. And so he determined to simply creepup closer, without giving the alarm. At the proper time he would startthings moving.

  Of course, if one of the sentries happened to think that the fire shouldbe looked after, and came forward to throw on more fuel, it mightinterfere with the plans of the boy in the tree. But Wallace would notdo this unless Paul gave the signal agreed on; and the patrol leader wasrather of the opinion the other two fellows might be sound asleep, beingunaccustomed to such a vigil.

  He just caught a fleeting glimpse of something dropping lightly to theground close beside the mess tent. This he knew must be Monkey. He hadaccomplished the first part of his errand, and now came the question ofwhat he meant to do next.

  Paul pushed in closer, anxious to see what was going on, for the spy wasin the midst of the supplies gathered under the canvas cover. Just asthough his coming might have been discovered, a dark figure made asudden spring away from the spot. As the intruder bounded past thesmouldering fire he seemed to bend over and throw something into it.

  Instantly a bright illumination took place, dazzling in its effect.

  With the crash of the spy's retreating footsteps echoed the loud criesthat arose from the spot where Wallace was keeping guard:

  "Fire! fire! turn out here and save your bacon, fellows!" he shouted atthe top of his voice.

  Figures came tumbling out of the tents. Every scout had been aroused bythat dreadful summons, which might mean the wind-up of their jollyexpedition before it had been started.

  Of all the disasters that in a camp must be viewed with anxiety, a fireranks next to a sudden hurricane. Paul had spoken about these things somuch that every fellow realized the seriousness of the case, even thoughhe might be a tenderfoot, who had up to now never slept under canvas.

  Of course, as is usually the case, many lost their heads in theexcitement. It could hardly have been otherwise, since they were newhands at the business. They ran back and forth, trembling with eagernessto do something heroic and grand, yet unable to collect their witsenough to see what ought to be accomplished first.

  Luckily all of them were not built that way. Had it been so there musthave followed a dire disaster that would have put a damper on theirbudding hopes.

  Paul saw Wallace jumping directly for the sputtering fire that wasrunning so strangely from point to point, and eating its way toward theshelter under which all their precious stores had been heaped up.

  "Whatever it is, he'll get it!" was the thought that flashed throughPaul's brain at that instant.

  Relieved of this fear, he could turn his full attention toward theescaping spy. Monkey Eggleston must not get clear, if it could possiblybe avoided. He had engaged in some sort of miserable trick, calculatedto harm those who were paying attention to their own private business.He must be caught and made to confess.

  So, with that determination urging him on, Paul sprang in swift pursuitof the rapidly-disappearing form.

  Since the moon had gone down, and darkness prevailed, it was not easy tosee the figure of the runner; but if Paul's eyes failed him his ears didnot. The fugitive was making a tremendous amount of noise as he slammedthrough the woods. He collided with trees, stumbled over trailing vines,and sprawled across more than one half rotten log that chanced to lie inhis path.

  Paul did much better. Perhaps he happened to possess eyes that were ableto see in such semi-darkness; then again it might be his absence fromthe fire had much to do with his ability to discern obstacles in time toavoid contact with them.

  At any rate he knew one thing, which was, that slowly but surely he wasovertaking the spy sent by the Slavin crowd to create havoc in the campof the scouts.

  Paul also knew that it was perhaps a very unwise move on his part, thischasing so madly after Monkey Eggleston. Of course the fellow hadfriends not so far away, and the chances were he was even now headingtoward the place where Monkey knew they would be waiting to hear hisreport.

  Still Paul would not give up. The fact that he was surely overtaking theother fellow acted as a sort of spur, urging him to continued efforts.Had the chase seemed hopeless he might have abandoned it after the firstspurt; but now he felt that at any moment he was apt to pounce upon theobject of his pursuit, who was floundering along just ahead.

  Suddenly the noise stopped. Either Monkey had been given a jolt in hislast tumble that knocked the breath completely out of his body; or elsehe was "playing 'possum" in order to deceive his pursuer.

  Paul groped his way forward. The trees became more
scattered, and whatseemed to be a small glade dawned upon his sight.

  He had carefully noted the spot where the last sound was heard, and ashe strained his eyes now he was able to make out a crouching figurewithin ten feet of him.

  "Ted?" said a quavering voice, "is that you?"

  Evidently Monkey was entertaining a little hope that after all it mayhave been his comrade who had chased after him so persistently. Paul didnot reply, but moved swiftly forward. He saw the other make a move asthough about to try and resume his flight; but the young scout leader ofthe Red Fox Patrol did not mean to let so fine a chance slip through hisfingers.

  He made a quick spring that landed him on the fugitive. With all hisstrength Paul threw him back to the ground.

  "Got you, Monkey!" he exclaimed, triumphantly; "now you'll come backwith me to our camp, and explain what sort of meanness you were up to,trying to burn us out!"

  The boy underneath seemed to be so badly frightened that he could hardlyfind his tongue to say a word. He had shown spirit enough when climbingthrough those trees to enter the hostile camp; yet now that he was helda prisoner his natural cowardice returned. But before Paul could draghim to his feet there was an unexpected interruption to the littleaffair.

  "Hey, boys!" called a voice he recognized as belonging to Ted Slavin,"get a move on you, and surround the wise guy. We've got him in a hole,and it's twenty-three for yours, Paul Morrison! He aint goin' to crawlout of this pickle, if we know it. Jump him, fellers!"