CHAPTER XI
GLEN FOLLOWS A FALSE TRAIL
Morning mail was a great institution in camp. Two scouts, speciallydetailed, brought it from the Buffalo Center post-office, in a U. S.mail pouch. Mr. Newton opened and distributed it, and happy were thefellows who received letters with which they could retreat to somecorner and feast themselves not only once, but sometimes twice andthrice, while pleased smiles circled their countenances.
Because Glen expected none he was all the more surprised when a letterwas handed to him. It was a mysterious letter, indeed. The envelope wasmysterious, if a dirty and crumpled condition spelled mystery. Thewriting and spelling were mysterious--most mysterious. Finally thecontents of the letter enjoined mystery.
"Say nuffin to noboddy burn this at once," it cautioned. "This isimportant. Your forchoon is maid and you git part of a big tressure ifyou do exackly as told. Don't say a word to noboddy but cum at teno'clock to the blazed oke wich is just south of your camp if you tellanyboddy or bring anyboddy you wont get to no nuffin about it."
Glen's first impulse was to show the document to Jolly Bill. As Bill wasbusy in conversation with Mr. Newton he had time to think it over. Itwas something about the treasure, quite evidently. Very likely it was atrick. Some one was trying to get a laugh on him. Very well. Glen wasnot at all displeased. He would let them do their worst. It showed thatthey had taken him in among them and were treating him exactly as one ofthemselves. He was gratified. He would go along and see it through. Ifthey could make him bite, all right.
There was no difficulty in locating the blazed oak which stood close tothe camp. Glen had no watch, but he went early enough to be quite sureof being there by ten o'clock. Then he waited and waited. He was aboutto give it up as a hoax, when a man slipped quietly out of the woods andadvanced toward him. Glen fell into a position of defense as he saw thatit was his old enemy, Jervice.
"Now, don't go actin' up," begged Mr. Jervice. "I ain't goin' to donothin' only tell you how to git into a good thing. I'm the man aswrote that letter."
"You are!" exclaimed Glen. "What do _you_ know about the treasure?"
"I know all about it," Jervice assured him confidentially. "I'm the onlyfeller that can help you git a slice. They's jest one question--are youwillin' to go in an' will you keep mum. I don't tell nothin' till youtell me."
"Am I willing? Are you crazy? You bet I'm willing. Try me."
"Well, listen here then. I thought you'd be the feller. Who can I get asis good an' strong an' yet not much over boys' size, thinks I. Then Ithinks of you. 'That reform school boy,' I says to myself. 'He's thevery feller. Likely he's done this kind of a job before.'"
"I've never had anything to do with treasure before, and I don't knowwhat you mean," said Glen. "Hurry up and tell about it. I want to beback at camp for the swim at eleven o'clock."
"Come over to my car," invited the artful Jervice. "It ain't very faran' we won't be in no danger of being interrupted."
"How's that boy you hit?" asked the peddler as they journeyed. "That wasa awful crack you give him."
"He's all right and able to be about," Glen assured him. "I'm sorry Ihit him."
Neither Glen nor Jervice knew that Matt was not only able to be aboutbut was at that moment within ten feet of them, being, in fact, justthat distance above their heads in a tree which seemed to him to offersuch facilities as wild bees might desire in choosing a home. He keptvery quiet in his "honey tree" and looked down on them with contempt forboth.
"Up to some tricks," he muttered to himself.
The J. Jervice autowagon was not so very far away, but the two were wellout of range of Matt's vision before they reached it.
"Now, to begin with," said J. Jervice. "Are you one o' them scouts orain't you?"
"I am," replied Glen. "I'm a tenderfoot."
"Tenderfoot, eh! Reckon you ain't so tender. Well, why don't ye wear oneo' them uniforms, so's to make ye look like one?"
"I haven't any uniform, yet. Perhaps I could borrow one. What's that gotto do with a treasure hunt?"
"It's got a whole lot to do with it. People knows that boys wearing themuniforms is straight, an' we want you to look straight as a string."
"I'm going to get one as soon as I can," Glen assured him. "I want tolook straight--that is part of the oath, 'physically strong, mentallyawake and morally straight.'"
"I don't know nothink about no oaths like that," objected Mr. Jervice,in a dubious tone which indicated that he might know more about othervarieties. "We don't care about yer being so straight--jest so ye lookstraight."
"Well, hurry up and tell about the treasure," urged Glen. "Remember Iwant to be back by eleven o'clock. You're awfully slow."
"I'm comin' to that. Remember this now--you mustn't never tell nobodynothink about it."
"What do you mean--never tell anybody?" asked Glen. "I guess we know asmuch about it as you do."
"_You_ know about it!" Mr. Jervice seemed incredulous. "What do you knowabout it?"
"Well, we know what Mr. Spencer told us the other night," insisted Glen.
"What was that?" asked Mr. Jervice cautiously. "Sit down here an' tellme about it."
Glen sat down on the back step of the car and told the story of the losttreasure as he remembered it.
"So that's the treasure story, is it?" came a deep voice from the sideof the car. There stepped into view a man whom Glen had not seen before.He was evidently associated with Mr. Jervice, but he did not in theleast resemble him, for instead of being a cringy weakling, he was bigand strong and hard.
"That's the story as Mr. Spencer told it to us," replied Glen.
"Say, that's mighty interesting to me," said the man. "Happened rightaround this neighborhood, too? I'll bet them Indians put that treasurein a cave an' hain't never done nothing about it since 'cause theycouldn't sell bullion without giving themselves away."
"I suppose they'd find it hard to sell," said Glen.
"You bet they'd find it hard to sell. They'd just been obliged to leaveit in the cave. Bet it's the same cave we're lookin' for. You know anycaves around here, boy?"
"No, sir," replied Glen. "I haven't seen a cave in this country."
"You know something about the country?"
"A little bit," Glen cautiously admitted. "I've only been here a fewdays."
"Get that chart, Jervice, an' we'll see what he reckernises," orderedthe leader.
Mr. J. Jervice offered some protest and the two held a whisperedconversation of which Glen was evidently the subject.
"Oh, shut up," exclaimed the big man, at last. "I can take care of thekid all right. You git the chart."
Mr. Jervice thereupon dived into the car and soon returned with a roughmap which he opened out before the leader.
"Lookahere, boy, look at this," commanded the man. "This remind ye ofany place around your camp?"
Glen looked at the chart and saw many things which had become familiarto his eyes in the last few days. There was an elevation that wasundoubtedly Buffalo Mound, certain wavy lines that depicted a streamdown its west side could scarcely mean anything but Buffalo Creek. A bigstar was quite conspicuous midway along the course of the stream andGlen was curiously examining words which he made out to be "DeepSprings" and "Twin Elms" when Mr. Jervice put his thumb over the spot.
"Never mind 'bout readin' that too close," objected Mr. Jervice, "whatwe want to know is did you ever see a place like that?"
"I think I have," admitted Glen.
"Don't you know ye have?" insisted the big man in a harsh voice. "Ain'tthat the place where yer camp is?"
"It looks something like it," said Glen. "It's open country, open toeverybody. Why don't you go and see?"
"There's reasons, boy. Some on 'em you wouldn't understand. We don'tmind telling you some of the trouble. Did ye know that all o' thattreasure was claimed by the heirs?"
"Whose heirs?" asked Glen.
"Heirs of the freighters as the Indians took it away from. Did you knowthat a lot o' t
hat bullion had been got out and was held in the bankhere at Buffalo Center?"
"Mr. Spencer said nothing about it," replied Glen.
"Because he don't know nothink 'bout it," said J. Jervice. "We knowbecause we represent the heirs. Now if you want to help us, your sharewill be a hundred dollars; but, remember, you say nothink to nobuddy."
"I won't say anything," Glen promised, rashly.
"If you do you'll be in as bad as anybuddy, so yer better not. If yergoin' to help, fust thing is to go back to camp an' git one o' themsuits like they call scout suits."
"I reckon I can borrow one," said Glen.
"Then ye'll go down to Buffalo Center an' look out for the Bank. Walkright in as if ye owned it, jest like a reg'lar boy scout might do."
"I can do that," agreed Glen. "But what's that got to do with it?"
"It's got a plenty. When nobuddy ain't lookin' much you take a good lookat a little winder that's clear in the back. You'll see it ain't got nobars over it like the other winders. It's jest 'bout big enough to let aboy through."
"Well?" asked Glen, beginning to feel that it wasn't well at all, andthat this plan Mr. Jervice was unfolding had to do with a very differenttreasure than he had supposed.
"Jest imagine you've been dropped through that winder an' landed on thefloor. You've got to go f'm there to the front an' unbolt the door. Wecan handle the lock all right but they got old fashioned bolts inside.So just wait aroun' an' figure how you'd git acrost the room withoutknockin' nothink over, an' look particular at the fastenings on thatfront door so you'll--"
"Stop right there," interrupted Glen. "I won't do anything of the kind."
"What's the matter of you, backin' out thaterway?" exclaimed Mr.Jervice. "Ain't I explained to you that the bank's got our bullion."
"I'm not that green," retorted Glen. "You want to rob the bank. I'mthrough with you."
"Hold on, boy!" The strong hand of the big leader closed over hisshoulder. "Not yet you ain't. We can't let you go off thinkin' that wayabout us."
Glen wriggled around until he could look into the face of the man whoheld him. His spirits dropped. It was no weak, trifling face such as J.Jervice exhibited. A hard, rough look--a cruel, remorseless look--amean, ugly look--all these things he read in that face.
"Mebbe ye'll know me when ye see me agen," said the man.
Glen made no reply.
"I ain't figurin' on you seein' much more o' me, though, nor any of us.D'ye know what I'm goin' to do with you?"
"Send me back to the reform school?" guessed Glen, wishing from thebottom of his heart that he might get off so easily.
The man laughed as if at an excellent joke.
"You're funny, boy--positive funny, you are. Sendin' you to thepenitentiary would be easy along o' what I'm goin' to do to you."
"I've never hurt you," cried Glen. "Let me go."
"It ain't safe, boy. They's jest one way you c'n make it safe. Come inalong of us an' do what we do. You wouldn't be a reform school runawayif you hadn't never been up to nothink. This'll be easy for you."
It was a temptation that would have tried boys of firmer principle thanGlen. This man might do something awful to him if he resisted. He was onthe point of yielding--and then came the vision of Matt Burton, whiteand unconscious, and the recollection of his agony as he thought that hehad murdered Matt and lost his first chance to walk straight. Was itbetter to choose one evil than another?
"Do what you want to," he said bravely, to the big man. "I'm going to bea true scout, if you--if you kill me for it."
There was murder in the man's appearance, evidently enough, for J.Jervice eagerly protested. "You don't want to do no murder, now. Murdermeans hangin'!"
"Shut up!" commanded the leader. "Look what ye got us into. What can wedo with him?"
"We'll have to hide him till we git away," said Jervice.
"Brave Man!" sneered the leader. "Get me a little ropean' I'll do him up scientific." Page 131]
"No good trying to hide him round here. Them scouts will be missin' himwhen he don't get to his meals an' swarm all over here. You run over tothe city--it's only twenty-four miles. You ought to be back easy bynight. You know who to leave him with."
"He's a desperate hard boy to manage," complained J. Jervice with somerecollection of previous dealings. "I'm afeared one man can't handlehim."
The leader laughed significantly.
"One _man_ could," he declared. "But that ain't saying the kid wouldn'tbe too much for you."
"Tie him up," urged Mr. Jervice. "I can handle him when he's tied."
"Brave man!" sneered the leader. "Get me a little rope an' I'll do himup scientific."
He was as good as his word. When his scientific job was finished theonly thing Glen could do without restraint was to perspire. He couldmake a few muffled noises, but no intelligible sound could he utter.
"Now chuck him inside the car, please," begged Mr. Jervice. "He'll bequiet now."
"Quiet enough," said the leader. "But hustle your car out of here andget him twenty miles away as quick as you can. We don't want no scoutstrackin' around while he's here."
Glen's spirits took another slump. It was bad enough to be captured, buthis faith had been great in the scouts' deliverance. Following himtwenty or thirty miles was another thing.
The Boy Scout Treasure Hunters; Or, The Lost Treasure of Buffalo Hollow Page 11