Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island; or, Marooned Among the Game-fish Poachers

by Herbert Carter

  CHAPTER XI

  THE FAME OF THE SILVER FOX PATROL

  "I thought so!" Thad now remarked, showing what confidence he had feltin the decision that their best policy had been to obey orders, and cometo the shore.

  Several moving figures were now seen, and coming down the rocks towardthem. In another minute's time these had resolved themselves into threemen. They did not seem to be roughly dressed at all, but might be takenfor gentlemen out to have a good time fishing or cruising.

  And the boys noticed, as soon as they could see anything at all, whenThad lighted their camp lantern, that the largest of the trio wore ablue cap such as they had seen on the head of the man who watched theirboat through his field-glasses late that afternoon.

  Undoubtedly the black boat had turned back as evening set in, and itmust have been some one connected with the party, whom they had seenwaving that light from the shore.

  "Good evening!" said Allan, pleasantly, as the three men ranged up closeby and evidently looked them over; "we've surrendered, you remember.Now, what are you going to do with six Boy Scouts off for a vacationtrip on the lake?"

  At that the big man turned to his companions, and laughed. No doubtthey felt considerably disappointed, because they had somehow had highhopes of making an important capture; but after the first keen chagrinhad passed they could enjoy a joke at their own expense.

  "You'll have to excuse our bothering you, boys," said he of the bassvoice; "but you see we made a mistake. We're revenue officers, lookingfor a notorious smuggler named Cranston, who operates around thissection. We had positive information that he meant to cross over fromCanada in a boat that answered the description of yours to a fraction;and as it's the habit of these smugglers to adopt all sorts ofdisguises, from honest, hard-working fishermen, to anything else thatsuits their fancy, we guessed they'd taken to wearing khaki to make usbelieve they were a party of the militia out for a cruise."

  "And so we turned back, and planned this nice little surprise, when wesaw that you had come in here," remarked a second man, still chuckling.

  "Who are you, anyway, boys?" asked the third, who seemed to have morecuriosity than his comrades, though his next words explained the reasonfor this; "because I've got two sturdy scouts, in my house, and they'vebecome so much brighter lads since they joined the patrol that I want totell you I'm interested in the movement wherever I run across it. Andwhen I tell them about this blunder of ours I'd like to mention names,you know."

  "Why, we belong to the Silver Fox Patrol of Cranford Troop of BoysScouts," remarked Allan, promptly; "this is our assistant scout-master,Thad Brewster, who happens to be the pilot of the trip because Dr.Philander Hobbs, our real leader, had to hurry back home on business;but we didn't worry a bit when that happened, because, you see, Thad iscapable of turning the trick; he knows more in a minute about everythingin the woods than Dr. Hobbs could learn in ten years."

  "Well, well, tell me about that, will you?" exclaimed the man, with somelittle excitement; "and which of you might be Allan Hollister--I reckonyou're that party right now, youngster; and this stout scout here,surely he must be the Bumpus who got into so many bad holes, and yetalways managed to crawl out again? Yes, I'm right about that; and let'ssee, which one might be Giraffe--no need to ask that, when I look aroundme. Then there was, another they called Step Hen, didn't they, not tomention Davy Jones, Bob White and Smithy? Oh, I know you all, and Iwant to shake hands with each and every one of you. Say, won't my kidsgo crazy when they hear that I've actually met up with that lively bunchof scouts."

  "W-w-what's all this mean, mister?" asked Bumpus, actually trembling,not with fear any longer, but actual delight to hear himself mentionedin this familiar way by a stranger.

  "Well, I'll have to confess that I've taken such a deep interest in whatmy boys are doing," continued the revenue officer, "that I even readevery book they brought into the house; and that's how I came to knowabout the doings of the Silver Fox Patrol, and who the eight lads wereconstituting that branch of the scouts. Give me your hand, Mr.Scout-master; I'm proud to know you, sure I am; and I hope you'll send awritten word back home to the two ten-year old twins, who know all aboutwhat you fellows have been doing in the Blue Ridge, up in Maine, andeven as far away as the Rocky Mountains."

  The boys were almost stunned by this remarkable information; but theyhastened to accept the hand offered them, and received a hearty squeezein return.

  "My name is Stebbens, and the boys are Daniel and Luther," continued theofficer who seemed not quite mind the disappointment of failing toeffect an important capture, when the little adventure had give him astory to carry back home to those twins he thought so much of.

  "Well all this is mighty interesting, John," said the man with the gruffvoice, and who seemed to be the leader of the revenue men; "but wemustn't lose any more time here. The sea is nasty, but our boat canstand it, and we know where tricky Cranston is apt to turn up beforemorning, not ten miles away; so perhaps we'd better be saying good-nightto these lads, and starting out again."

  He, as well as the third man, insisted on also shaking hands all aroundbefore departing, and with such good will that Bumpus was rubbing hisfingers for quite some time afterwards, to get the numb feeling out ofthe same.

  But then no one found any fault; in fact they were thrilled by theknowledge that their exploits had been read by other scouts, whocherished a sort of friendly feeling for the members of the Silver FoxPatrol, just from learning about their adventures in a book or so.

  They did not feel at all sleepy after the three revenue men had saidgood-bye, and vanished in the dark night.

  "What's the use pushing out there again, and dropping the mud-hookoverboard, when we can tie up so nicely right here?" remarked Step Hen.

  "Sure," echoed Giraffe, "and then, in the morning I'll show you Ihaven't forgotten how to make the finest fire you ever heard tell about.Oh I some pumpkins about that same game, ain't I, Bumpus? You ought toknow, because you saw me make one when we was nigh about froze to deathup there in Maine, and didn't have a single match along with us."

  "Well, anyhow, wait till morning," said Thad, knowing that once the tallscout got started on his favorite hobby, there was no way of stoppinghim until he had the fever satisfied.

  Giraffe had once made up his mind that he could make a fire in theprimitive fashion by using a little bow, and a revolving stick. Oncethis trick is learned and it can usually be accomplished in a minute ortwo; but most boys find themselves unable to master the feat, and giveup in despair after long trying.

  The tall scout had persisted even when he met with all manner ofdiscouragements. Sometimes, just when he seemed on the point ofsuccess, Bumpus would stumble over him, and end the attempt; then analarm would be sounded when he had gotten his tinder to smoking; andagain he lose out. But in the end he had mastered the secret, and everafterwards it was one of his proudest accomplishments; so that Giraffealways carried that little bow, and some dry tinder along, whenever heleft camp, even though it would have been muck easier to put somematches in his pocket.

  Of course, as they sat there for a while longer, after the boat had beensecurely tied up to the shore, the talk was mostly about smugglers.

  Each of the boys told all they had ever heard about, such slipperycustomers; and it added to the interest of the occasion to know thatthey had just been mistaken for a notorious character, for whom theGovernment revenue men were on the watch.

  "All the same," remarked Bumpus, complacently, "I ain't sorry ithappened, because you see, only for their mistake we never'd aheardabout them twins, Daniel and Luther Stebbens. I'm glad you wrote outthat message for 'em, Thad; and after we get back in Cranford I'mmeaning to send 'em my picture. Their daddy said they'd like it theworst kind; and come to think of it, I've got a few showing me astandingwith my gun acovering them two bad men as had captured me out in the BigTimber, Davy having snapped the picture off on the spot. Mebbe they'lllike that!"

  He fell to musing o
ver the lively scenes that had accompanied theadventure covered by this episode; and paid no further attention to therest of the boys, as they continued to exhaust the subject of thesmuggler fraternity.

  Finally, all of them admitted that they felt sleepy; and since they nolonger had reason to experience anything boarding on alarm, it wasdecided on the whole not to bother keeping watch.

  Already the hour must be near midnight, and they needed sleep, so as tobe ready to take up duties of another day when morning broke.

  Accordingly, each of them was apportioned a place where he could wedgein and in some way manage to obtain the rest of which he was in suchneed. Bumpus, being so round, and requiring much more space than any oneof the six, was given a chance to roll over in the wider territory closeto the doors of the hunting cabin, which were not to be closed, as theboys felt they would need air.

  He could sit up, and look around, at any time he happened to be awake;but as Bumpus was usually a sound sleeper, none of them expected that hewould avail himself of this privilege until they scrambled over hisbundled-up figure at daylight.

  In that cove at the mouth of the little creek it was as quiet andpeaceful as any heart could wish. Let the wind and the waves hold highcarnival outside, nothing gave promise of disturbing the slumber of thetired cruisers.

  An hour, two of them and more, crept by, and everything remained as calmas when the scouts folded their blankets about them like Indianwarriors, and squeezed in where they had been apportioned.

  The clouds had broken, and the moon was shining brightly in the skyoverhead when Bumpus, being awakened by some sort of dream, suddenly satupright, digging his knuckles into his eyes, as if hardly able tobelieve that he was not safe and sound in his own bed at home.

  A nasty snarl struck his ear, and gave him a shock, so that he instantlyfound himself wide-awake, and looking around to see what had caused thesound.

  What he saw must have aroused the fat scout not a little, forimmediately his voice was heard in the land, arousing the balance of thesleepers, and doubtless thrilling them through and through.

  "Stop thief! Here, let that alone, I tell you! Wake up everybody, anddo something, can't you? He's getting away with my lovely trout, I tellyou. Hey! Giraffe, ain't you agoing to save your breakfast?"