CHAPTER VI. A SHERIFF'S POSSE.
Of course everybody did as they were told; and when they afterwardsexchanged opinions regarding the ridiculous character of the picture theymust have made, with six boys and two men trying to see who could elevatehis hands the highest, they must always laugh until the tears rolled downtheir cheeks.
Somehow all of the scouts just took it for granted that these threeadvancing parties must surely be the men of whom they had been talking,the fleeing desperate rascals who had lately robbed a bank, and weretrying to make the border so that they might cross over into Canada, fromwhich territory they would be able to make faces at any pursuers.
But Thad, as he began to see the newcomers better, when they drew nearerthe fire, felt relieved. An idea started to flit through his activebrain, to the effect that after all they might not be the thieves, comeback for some purpose, perhaps to recover possession of the little, old,black tool-bag.
"Now," called out the tall man who was in the lead, and who seemed to bein authority, "we know you're tough cases, and we don't mean to give anyone of you a chance to play a game on us; so my men will keep you allcovered, while I go the rounds, and put the irons on."
"Wow!" exclaimed Giraffe, his eyes looking as round as saucers, when heheard this remark on the part of the supposed terrible yeggman.
"Please go a little slow about that, Mr. Sheriff!" called out Thad. "Ifyou look again, I'm sure you'll discover that six of us are only boys,and that we belong to a troop of scouts. We're up here on the track of aMr. James W. Carson, who is in the woods, with two guides. It is of greatimportance that I find him, as I am bearing a communication that means aheap to both Mr. Carson and my guardian. As for these two men here, theyare our guides, Jim Hasty and Eli Crookes. I guess you ought to know themboth, sir. And there's another, Sebattis, who is right behind you, gun inhand, ready to hold you up if you try to do us any harm."
The tall man whom Thad had rightly guessed to be the sheriff in chaseafter the burglars who were fleeing toward the border, gave another look,and then burst into a loud shout.
"That's one on us, all right, young fellow," he remarked. "We wonderedwhy under the sun our birds had started to hobnob with a crowd of BoyScouts; but you never can tell what's what, when you're dealing with suchsharp customers, and we didn't mean to take any chances. It's all right,men, you needn't handle those guns as if you meant to shoot, any longer.These parties are all right. But what I do want to know is, how came youby that?"
He pointed as he spoke at the old tool-bag that was lying beside StepHen; and evidently he must have recognized it, or else suspected what itcontained.
"That's mine--er, I mean to say I found the same in the bushes here, whenI was huntin' something I lost," and Step Hen held up a little packetsecured in waterproof cloth, which he had evidently since discovered,just where he formerly laid it down.
"We opened the bag, and guessed that the tools must have been thrown awayby some yeggmen who were making a bolt across country for the Canadaborder," remarked Thad, as the three officers sat down close to the fireto warm their hands.
"And that's just what's what," responded the sheriff, nodding as heexamined the contents of the bag. "We hope to get 'em in time, because itmeans a cool thousand to us, perhaps more, because the reward may havebeen doubled after we hit the woods. Sometimes we've been hot on thetrack, and then again they'd give us the slip, and we'd lose ground. I'veoften wished we had dogs along; but they're hard to find; and people,somehow, don't like to see dogs up here, since the law put a ban on deerhounding."
"I'd like to keep just one of them tools, to remember my find by, if youdidn't have any objection," suggested Step Hen anxiously.
"You can keep the whole bunch if you like, son," answered the sheriff;"we don't need any such evidence against these birds, if only we canketch 'em. They're carrying all the evidence we want, in the shape of theentire capital of the bank they looted so slick."
"I suppose they broke open the safe in the usual way, with dynamite?"Thad remarked, quietly.
"Just what they did, though how you guessed it I don't see," the sheriffreplied.
"We found something in the bag that told us that," and Thad, as he spoke,stepped over to the tree, in the crotch of which he had placed the stickof dynamite.
Step Hen turned red in the face as he heard the story told of how he hadjust been about to throw the unknown substance into the fire whenprevented. The lengthy sheriff looked reproachfully toward him, andremarked, mildly:
"You want to go slow, my boy, about handling things that you never sawbefore. I wouldn't like to say what would have happened to the lot ofyou, once this dropped into that red-hot fire. Many a fool miner has beenblown to atoms because he tried to dry damp dynamite out in an oven, andlet it get too hot. Better ask yourself a few questions before you go totrying tricks with strange things."
"Will you spend the night with us, Mr. Sheriff?" asked Thad, thinkingthat they ought to appear hospitable, as every one who goes into thegreat timber should be.
Besides, he rather fancied this Maine sheriff, and believed that asession in his company alongside the blazing camp-fire, would be bothpleasant and profitable, as doubtless the officer could relate manythings of interest to the scouts.
But the other shook his head.
"Sorry, but when we're as close to the heels of our game as this, we mustkeep on the move. It requires considerable hustling to run down such alively set as those three yeggs. And Charley Barnes, he know his businessup here in the wood, all right. They've led us a lively chase up to now;but the longer we're held off, the more determined we become to followthem, night and day, till we bring the lot to bay. They've got mightylittle grub along, and we don't want to let 'em have any time to hunt.Then perhaps hunger will help us out."
"But if you're going on right away," said Allan, "perhaps you'd let usmake you some hot coffee, Mr. Green?"
The sheriff looked keenly at him, and then held out a hand.
"Seemed like thar was somethin' kinder familiar about your make-up," hesaid; "now I know you, Allan Hollister. How's the dad, and the littlelady you call mother? I remember her well; and you too, as a boy wholoved to hunt and fish as well as any lad in all Penobscot county."
"My father is dead, Mr. Green; but mother is fairly well," replied theboy, with a sad tone to his voice. "We are not living in Maine anylonger, but down in New York state, where all these other scouts belong.But will you drink that coffee, if we make a pot for you?"
The sheriff saw that Allan did not seem inclined to say anything moreabout his own family; and so he allowed the subject to drop. But he didlook inquiringly at his two husky deputies, who gave him affirmative aswell as eager nods.
"Just please yourselves, young fellows," he remarked. "My men look a bitpeaked, because we've been hitting it up at quite a warm pace; and Iguess now, they'd enjoy a hot cup right smart. I confess I wouldn'tobject myself, seeing that you're so pressing."
The coffee pot was quickly clapped on the red coals, and would soon besending out a fragrant odor. Thad meanwhile stated to converse with theofficer, and by asking a few questions learned something concerning therobbery, of which the three fleeing tramp burglars had been guilty.
According to the sheriff, they were all hard characters, and had servedtime in various jails, for other crimes.
"If by chance you did run across the lot," he observed; "you'd betterlook sharp, for they wouldn't hesitate at anything, if they thought therewas any fear of being held up. Remember that, boys, and govern yourselvesaccordingly."
"Which I take it," observed the listening Bumpus, "to mean, that we hadought to get them covered first, if we run up against the crowd."
"Just what it does, and look out for tricks. That Charley, he's as fullof sly games as an egg is of meat. H'm! that does smell prime, son. What,condensed milk along with you, too, and sugar. I must say we struck asnap when we saw your fire here, after heading f
or this old camp-ground.That tastes like nectar, let me tell you: and warms a fellow up insidebetter than any strong drink could ever do."
"Glad you like it," said Thad; "and we all of us hope you come up withthose three tramp burglars, and gather them in."
After drinking several cups of the coffee apiece, the sheriff and hisposse of two deputies declared that they ought to be going.
"We've got a pretty good hunch as to where they struck for after leavinghere," remarked the officer, as he shook hands all around, not forgettingthe silent Indian guide; "and if they only stop over a day, so's to getsome game, why, we expect to surprise them right smart. Good-bye, boysand good luck. If so be we run across Mr. Carson, whom I happen to know,why, we'll tell him you're on his trail."
Waving his hand to them, the sheriff walked quickly away, followed by histwo men. And they were heading due north the last the scouts saw of them.
"Wonder if they'll overtake that active bunch; or will the yeggs getacross the line as they're planning to do?" Giraffe ventured, as they satthere, talking over this latest development in the affair, though one ortwo of the scouts began to yawn every minute or so, and rub their eyes,as though growing sleepy.
"Nobody can tell," Thad remarked; "but that Sheriff Green bears all theearmarks of an officer who generally get what he goes after."
"That's what they say about him," Allan put in; for he had not beentalking with the rest; something which the sheriff had said, possiblywhen asking after his father, had caused the boy to think of things thathad happened in the past, which apparently could not be apt to give himjoy.
By degrees the scouts sought their blankets under the canvas. Thad andAllan were the last to crawl in. The guides had made themselvescomfortable near the fire, having blankets with them; and the boysnoticed how they all made sure to keep their feet toward the blaze whenselecting places for the night. It was the woodsman's way, because thefeet are the first part of the body to feel cold, when, during sleep, theblood fails to circulate as thoroughly as when one is awake, since theheart slackens its functions, in order to get rested for the next day'slabor.
Finally all was quiet. The night wind crooned among the trees; an owlhooted to its mate; but the scouts all slept calmly, with not a fear ofdanger.
The Boy Scouts on the Trail; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country Page 6