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CHAPTER XXXI
GOOD-BYE TO DEER HEAD LODGE

“I think I’ll sleep a whole lot better to-night,” announced Bobolink, as he gave a huge yawn, and stretched his arms high above his head.

“What’s the reason?” demanded Jud, quickly. “Are you happy because we’re going to break camp so much sooner than we expected, owing to everything being snowed under up here in the woods?”

“Bobolink doesn’t get enough to eat, I reckon,” suggested Tom Betts.

“If he doesn’t it’s his own fault then,” Jack went on to say, “because he has more to do with the cooking end of the game than any of us.”

“I guess I know what he means,” hinted Spider Sexton, mysteriously.

“Then get a move on you, Spider, and enlighten the rest of us,” coaxed Sandy, as he cuddled a bit closer to the crackling fire, for the wind had arisen again, and parts of the cabin were chilly, despite the roaring blaze.

“Why, the fact of the matter is, Bobolink has a new girl to take to barn dances and all that this winter,” said Spider, boldly. “It’s that pretty Rose Dexter belonging to the new family in town. Oh! you needn’t grin at me that way, Bobolink. I own up I was doing my best to cut in on you there, but you seemed to have the inside track of me and I quit. But she is a peach if ever there was one!”

“Well, do you blame me then for feeling satisfied when we talk of going home?” demanded the accused scout. “All the same you’re all away off in your guesses. I’m hoping to sleep soundly to-night just because my mind is free from wondering who set that incendiary fire and tapped Mr. Briggs’ safe.”

“Oh! so that’s the reason, is it?” laughed Paul. “I’ve been watching you more or less since we came up here, and I wondered if you hadn’t been trying to figure that mystery out. I’m glad for your sake, as well as for some others’ sakes, that we’ve been able to clear that thing up.”

“All I hope now is that on our way back home we can stop off and pay the hoboes a little friendly visit,” continued Bobolink.

“Same here,” Jud added, quickly. “Even if our outing hasn’t been everything we hoped for, it would even things up some if we could march into Stanhope and hand the guilty men over to the police.”

Indeed, Bobolink was not the only scout who slept “like a rock” on that night. Most of the boys were very tired after the exertions of the day, and, besides, now that it had been decided to return home, they really had a load removed from their minds.

Of course, all of them could have enjoyed a much longer stay at Deer Head Lodge had the conditions been normal. That tremendous fall of snow, something like two feet on the level, Paul felt, had utterly prostrated many of their best plans, and facing a protracted siege of it did not offer a great deal of attraction.

With the coming of morning they were once more astir, and were soon as busy as a hive of bees. Each scout seemed intent on getting as much done as possible while the day lasted.

Tolly Tip alone looked sober. The quaint and honest fellow had taken a great liking to his guests, and looked forward to their speedy departure with something akin to dismay.

“Sure the rist av the winter will same a dreary time with not a hearty young voice to give me gratin’ av a mornin’,” he told Paul. “Indade, I don’t know how I’m goin’ to stand for the same at all, at all.”

“I’ll tell you this, Tolly Tip,” replied the scout leader emphatically. “If we get off during the Easter holidays some of us may take a run up here to visit you again. And perhaps you’ll find occasion to come to Stanhope in some business dealings with Mr. Garrity. In that case you must let us know. I’ll call a special meeting of the scouts, and you’ll be our honored guest.”

The old woodsman was visibly affected by these hearty words. He led a lonely life of it, although until the coming of these merry boys it had not seemed especially so. They had aroused long buried memories of his own boyhood, and given him a “new lease of life,” as he declared.

Nothing remarkable happened on this last day in camp, though numerous things took place. Paul saw to it that in the afternoon the boys got everything ready to pack so there would be little delay in the morning, and they could get an early start if the weather conditions were at all favorable.

The weather remained good. The great storm must have covered a considerable stretch of territory east of the Mississippi and the Great Lakes and cleared the atmosphere wonderfully, for again the morning dawned without a threatening cloud to give cause for anxiety.

There was considerable bustle inside the cabin and out of it about that time. Packs were being done up, though in much smaller compass than when the boys arrived at the camp, since only enough food was being taken along to serve for a couple of meals.

All the rest they only too gladly bequeathed to their genial host. Many were the silent resolves on the part of the boys as to what they would send up to Deer Head Lodge if ever the chance arrived, tobacco for Tolly Tip’s pipe being of course the main idea, since he seemed to lack nothing else.

On Tolly Tip’s part, he forced each of the lads to pack away a particular pelt which they were to have made into some sort of small article, just to remember the glorious outing in the snowy woods by.

At last the time came to say good-bye to the camp, and it was with unanimous agreement that the scouts clustered in a bunch, swung their hats, and gave three parting cheers for the lodge in the wilderness.

Tolly Tip had laid out their course, and on the way the main body halted while he and Paul tramped over to the foot of the hill where the cave among the rocks lay.

Paul was pleased to find the cave empty and the ashes cold where the fire had burned, thus proving that Hank and his three companions had started overland for home on the previous day.

Once more joining the others, they continued on their way.

“Next in line come our friends, the hobo yeggmen!” remarked Jud, with a grim closing of his lips.

“Listen,” said Paul, impressively, “for the last time I want to caution you all to follow the directions I’ve given. We must try to creep up on that old shack, and find out what the tramps are doing before we show our hand.”

“Well, what have scouts been learning woodcraft for if they can’t do a bit of spy work?” asked Jud, boldly. “All you have to do, Paul, is to pick those you want to keep you company when you make the grand creep; while the rest hang out close by, ready to jump in at the signal and make it unanimous.”

It might have been noticed, were one watching closely, that Jud said this with a complacent smile hovering about his lips. The reason was easily guessed, because Jud really had no peer among the members of Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts when it came to creeping up on game or some pretended enemy.

He had often proved his superiority in this respect, and could therefore take it for granted that the scout-master would pick him out to accompany him on an occasion like this.

“All right, Jud,” said Paul, smilingly, for he understood very well how the other felt, “I’ll take Jack with me, Bobolink, and Tom Betts as well—yes, and you may come along too, I guess.”

Some of them snickered at this, while Jud glared haughtily around and shrugged his shoulders, looking aggrieved, until Paul took occasion to whisper in his ear:

“That was meant for a joke you understand, Jud. Of course, I couldn’t think of doing this thing without your help.”

Later on Tolly Tip announced that they would now leave the creek and head in the direction of the abandoned charcoal burners’ shack. All the scouts felt more or less of a thrill in anticipation of what was to come.

“I only hope,” Jud was heard to mutter, aggressively, “that they haven’t gone and skedaddled since Bud Phillips saw ’em in the place. That’d make me feel pretty sore, let me tell you!”

“Not much chance of that happening, Jud,” Jack assured the grumbler, “unless by some accident their supplies got low. And Bud said they seemed to have enough on hand to last for weeks. Everything’s going to turn out as we want it, make up your mind to that.”

The old woodsman knew every rod of territory around that section, and could have led his charges in a bee-line to the shack except for the snowdrifts. Of course, these caused more or less meandering, but in the end they came to a place where Tolly Tip raised a warning finger.

Every boy knew by that they must be close upon the shack. Indeed, a whiff of wood smoke floated their way just then, announcing that the goal was at hand.

They moved on for a couple of minutes. Then all could glimpse the dilapidated cabin amidst the snow piles, with smoke oozing from its disabled mud and slab chimney. Paul made a gesture that they recognized, whereupon part of the company came to a halt and hid, while the others crept on with the leader.

CHAPTER XXXII
THE CAPTURE OF THE HOBO YEGGMEN

Long practice had made the scouts adepts at this sort of work. They could creep up on an unsuspecting sentry almost as cleverly as those copper-colored natives of the American woods whom all Boy Scouts copy when studying woodcraft.

Then again the piles of snow helped, as well as hindered, them more or less. But except for that column of blue wood smoke drifting lazily upward over the cabin there was really no sign of life about the place.

Paul, Tolly Tip and the others of the scouting party soon reached the rear of the shack. They could easily see where the two tramps had actually worked to close up most of the chinks between the logs, to keep the bitter cold air and the driving snow out of their refuge.

Men of their sort would never think of staying for a week or two amidst such barren surroundings so long as there remained a warm county jail ready to accommodate them with free lodging—that is, unless they had a good reason for wanting to avoid civilization.

Paul, believing that they had set that fire and robbed Mr. Briggs’ safe, could understand just why they remained here in seclusion. They doubtless feared suspicion may have been pointed in their direction, and that something of a search was being indulged in looking to their ultimate capture.

As soon as they arrived close to the walls of the shack the boys searched for some crevice through which they might gain a view of the interior.

Several managed to dig peep-holes by detaching the frozen mud that the tramps had plastered over open chinks. They applied their eyes to such crevices, and first of all discovered a blazing fire. Then a movement on one side drew their attention to the taller vagrant sitting quietly smoking his black pipe as though quite contented with his lot of idleness, so long as his wants were fairly well supplied.

It happened that the wind had gone down, and there brooded over the snowy forest a deep silence. This fact allowed the listeners without to catch the sound of voices inside the hut, for one of the tramps talked heavily, and the other had a high-pitched voice that carried like a squeaking fife.

What they were saying just then instantly riveted the attention of the listeners, for as though by some strange freak it had an intimate connection with the object of the scouts’ coming to the spot.

The shorter man seemed to have been doing some work on his injured hand, for he was now carefully wrapping a fresh rag around it. At the same time he was grumbling because of the pain his injury gave him.

“I never knowed how bad a burn was till now, Billy,” was the burden of his complaint. “I’ve been shot and hurted in every other way, but this here’s the fust time I ever got licked by fire. It’s a-goin’ to be the last time too, if I knows it.”

“Any fool had ought to know better’n to play with fire,” the other told him between his teeth as he sucked at his pipe. “I reckons that ye’d been wuss hurt nor that if I hadn’t slapped a pail o’ water over ye, and put ye out. Gotter stand fur it, Shorty, till the new skin comes along. A burn is wuss nor a cut any day.”

“I on’y hopes as how it’s well afore we skip outen this hole,” the sufferer went on to say, still unappeased. “If we git in a tight hole I’d need both my fins to do business with. A one-handed man ain’t got much chance to slip away when the cornfield cops make a raid.”

“They ain’t goin’ to bother us any! Make up yer mind to that same, boy,” continued the tall vagrant, complacently. “When the time comes, an’ the weather lets up on us a bit, why, we’ll jest flit outen this region by the back door. I’m only mad as hops ’bout one thing.”

“Yep, an’ I know what it be, ’cause ye been harpin’ on that subject right along, Billy. Yer disapp’inted ’cause the old man didn’t have a bigger haul in his cracked safe.”

“Well, that’s what ails me,” admitted the other in a grumbling way. “We’d a been fixed fur a year to come if only he’d had a good wad lyin’ low, ’stead of a measly bunch of the long green.”

“Better luck next time, Billy, say I,” continued the shorter tramp, as he finished fastening the soiled rag about his left hand and wrist.

It can be easily understood that Paul had heard quite enough by this time. There was not the slightest doubt in the world that Billy and his partner had been guilty of setting fire to Mr. Briggs’ store, and had also broken open his ancient safe to extract whatever amount of money happened to be in it at the time.

Paul drew back and touched each one of his companions in turn. They knew just what the gesture he made signified. The time for action had come, and they were thus invited to take part with him in the holding up of the desperate pair.

That the tramps belonged to this class of wandering criminals there could not be the least doubt after hearing snatches of their conversation. This affair of Mr. Briggs’ store was apparently but one of many similar episodes in their careers.

The little party now proceeded to creep around to the front of the shack. They knew, of course, that the door had been repaired and that it was also closed tightly, but Paul hardly believed they would find any difficulty in pushing it open.

Arriving at the point that was to witness their sudden attack, Paul marshaled his followers in a compact mass. He meant to imitate in some degree the flying wedge used upon the football field with such good effect.

Tolly Tip was given the post of honor in the van. This was done partly because of the fact that he was a man, and the boys felt the tramps would be likely to feel more respect for a company of invaders led by a grown-up.

After the woodsman came Paul and Jud. Jack, Bobolink and Tom Betts formed the base of the triangle which was to push through the opening with all possible speed, once the door had been thrown open.

Even though they found it fastened by some sort of bar or wooden pin, Paul had arranged in his mind just how such fastenings could be broken without trouble. He had noted quite a good-sized log lying near by, used by the vagrants in their seclusion to chop their firewood on. And Paul had decided that this log would make an admirable battering ram. The door was old and feeble, so that one good slam would doubtless hurl it back, and give them free ingress.

There was no need of all this display of energy, however, for upon investigation Paul discovered that he could easily move the door, once he got his hand on the wooden latch.

He only waited to make sure that the others were ready, and then fell back into his pre-arranged place, leaving to Tolly Tip the honor of opening the way.

When the woodsman felt a hand jab him in the short ribs he recognized this as the signal from Paul for which he had been waiting. He immediately threw the door back with such violence that it crashed to the floor, its weak hinges giving way under the strain.

In through the opening the whole six of them poured. The boys’ hunting guns were instantly leveled in the direction of the astounded tramps, who started to scramble to their feet, but, cowed by the display of force, sank back again in dire dismay.

“Hold up your arrms!” roared Tolly Tip, just as he had been instructed to do by the scout-master.

Both hoboes made ludicrous haste to elevate their hands as far as they could. In the excitement of the moment, having only caught glimpses of khaki uniforms, they imagined that a detachment of the State militia had been called out to search the woods for the firebugs guilty of trying to destroy Mr. Briggs’ establishment in Stanhope.

By the time they realized that five of the invaders were only boys it was too late to attempt anything like defiance. Besides, those shotguns and rifles, even when held in boyish hands, had just as grim a look as though gripped by grown-up warriors.

“Jud, you’ve got the thongs I supplied!” called out Paul, “so get busy, with Jack to help you, and tie their hands behind them. Slip those mitts on before you do it, because we’ve got a long way to go, and it would be cruel to have their fingers frost-bitten on the road to Stanhope.”

The men dared not offer any objections, though they kept using strong language, much to the disgust of some of the scouts.

“Paul, tell them that unless they close their mouths and quit that swearing we’ll gag them both,” said Jack, unable to endure it any longer.

“I was just about to say that when you took the words out of my mouth!” declared the scout-master, indignantly. “I’ve got a couple of gags ready here, made for the occasion. If you know when you’re well off, you fellows, keep still, and accept your fate like men. You’re only going to get what you deserve after all.”

“It was a bad day for you both when you struck Stanhope,” said Jud, with one of his tantalizing grins. “I only wish I knew the tramp signs, so I could write a warning on every fence outside the town so’s to keep other hobo yeggs away.”

Having accomplished the object of their mission without any trouble they now went back to join their comrades, who were anxiously waiting for the signal Paul was to give in case their help was needed. And great was the disappointment of Bluff, Sandy, Frank, Spider and Phil when they found that they had been left out of the game.

CHAPTER XXXIII
CONCLUSION

Once more striking the frozen creek the boys, accompanied by Tolly Tip still, headed down the stream, bent upon reaching Lake Tokala early in the afternoon. The two prisoners were well looked after, though there was little danger of their giving any trouble.

Upon searching them the boys had found some money and several small articles of more or less value that they suspected had been taken from the storekeeper’s safe at the time of the robbery. These would perhaps assist materially to convict “Billy” and “Shorty” when the time for their trial came.

The men, stolid, after their kind, seemed to have become reconciled to their fate. Nevertheless, Paul did not mean to relax his vigilance in the least degree. He knew very well that such cunning characters would be ready to take advantage of the least opportunity to break away.

In fact all of the scouts had resolved to be constantly on the watch. They were in imagination already receiving the hearty congratulations from some of the leading townspeople for capturing the guilty rogues, and did not mean to be cheated out of their pleasure through careless handling of the case.

“There’s the lake!” announced Jud Elderkin, presently.

“Yes, and I can see smoke coming from the cabin of Abe Turner!” Bobolink hastily added, for he knew just where to look for the humble domicile of the man Mr. Garrity had stationed at the lake to make preliminary preparations for the extensive logging operations he meant to start on the following spring.

Abe heard their shouts and greeted them warmly. Of course, he was interested on discovering that they had captured the two tramps, and admitted that there could be no reasonable doubt of their guilt, once he heard the story, and saw Shorty’s scorched hand.

But the boys did not mean to stay over night at the lake. That would make their next day’s journey too long, for they hoped to get into Stanhope before the setting of another sun.

Tolly Tip said good-bye sorrowfully. He concluded that he might as well stay with Abe that night for company.

“’Tis harrd to say ye go away, lads,” the old woodsman told them, as he wrung each scout’s hand with a vim that made him wince. “Depind on it, I’ll often think av ivery one av ye as the days crape along. Here’s a good luck to the whole bunch! And be sure to remimber me to Mr. Garrity.”

“We will, Tolly Tip, and here’s three cheers for you!” cried Bobolink; and no doubt the vigorous shouts that arose would ring pleasantly in the ears of the old woodsman for many a day.

The boys managed to cross the lake and use their iceboats in the bargain, for the violence of the wind had kept most of the surface clear of snow. It was a new experience to the two vagrants, and one they hardly fancied; though the boats they were placed on did not make any remarkable time, the breeze being very light.

Once on the Radway river, the boys found it necessary to drag the boats pretty much all the way. They kept on, however, until the sun was setting, and then concluded to camp for the night.

Paul knew that this would be the time when the most danger would arise concerning the possible escape of the prisoners. He was more than ever determined that such a catastrophe should not occur, even if he himself had to sit up and keep watch all through the night.

The boys chose a very good spot for a camp, in that there was an abundance of loose wood at hand that could be used for fuel. Jud also suggested that they build two fires, so that they would have a certain amount of warmth on either side.

“That’s a good idea,” said Paul, falling in with it immediately, for he saw how it would simplify matters in connection with their prisoners.

He did not dare allow these men to have the freedom of their arms, for there could be no telling what they might not attempt in the desire to gain their freedom. And with their hands tied the lack of circulation might cause their extremities to freeze unless looked after.

Supper was cooked, and things made as cheerful as the conditions allowed. Indeed, most of the boys thought that it was rather in the nature of a novel experience to be forced to sleep amidst the snow banks, and with only a scanty brush shelter between themselves and the clear, cold sky.

Few of them secured much sleep, it may as well be admitted. Paul himself was on the alert most of the night. Dozens of times his head bobbed up, and his suspicious eyes covered the cowering forms of the two prisoners, who had been placed where they would get the full benefit of the twin fires.

Then again the fires needed frequent attention, and Paul took it upon himself to see that they did not die down too low; for the night was still bitter cold. As an abundant supply of wood had been gathered by willing hands it was not very hard to toss a few armfuls on each fire from time to time.

Morning came at last, and the scouts were up with the break of day. The fires were again attended to, and breakfast started, for the lads knew they would have a hard day’s journey before them.

There was a strong possibility that they would encounter some huge drifts which might block their passage; and it was this that gave Paul the most concern.

It was nearly eleven when they finally sighted the place where the one-time canal merged its waters with the Radway river, forming the connecting link between that waterway and the home stream.

“Looks like an old friend,” asserted Jud, when they had turned off the wider stretch and started to follow the canal.

“But see the snow piles ahead of us, will you?” cried Bobolink in dismay. “We’re going to have some jolly work climbing through those!”

“If you only look,” remarked Paul, “in most cases you’ll find you’re able to go around the hills that bar your way.”

It was very much as Paul said, for, as a rule, they were able to find a passage around the huge drifts. Still progress was very tedious, and when the scouts finally reached the river the afternoon was well along.

“Look! will you?” called out Sandy Griggs, exultantly. “The dear old Bushkill is swept as clear as a barn floor, and the ice is gilt-edged!”

“Why!” echoed Bobolink, equally pleased, “our troubles have vanished just like smoke wreaths. We can run all the way home with this nice breeze that’s coming up the river as fair as anything. Whoop! we’re in great luck, fellows!”

Stanhope was reached half an hour before sundown. There were a good many people on the ice, mostly boys and girls, and the coming of the iceboat flotilla created something of a stir. This was considerably augmented when it was learned that the scouts who had gone off on a trip to the snow woods had brought back two vagrants, who were responsible for the fire and the robbery that had recently occurred in the town.

Of course, the men were easily convicted with so much evidence against them. Mr. Briggs publicly declared that he was very sorry for saying what he had in connection with the scouts, and that from that time on they could count on him as a friend of the organization.

Some of the boys believed they would never again have the opportunity of engaging in such interesting events as had come their way during the midwinter outing. There were others, however, who declared that such an enterprising group of scouts would surely meet with new adventures while pursuing the study of Nature’s mysteries. That these latter were good prophets the reader may learn from the succeeding volume of this series.

At the very next meeting of the Banner Boy Scouts Mr. Thomas Garrity was an honored guest, and had the privilege of hearing an account read that covered all the doings of the ten lads during their midwinter outing.

At the conclusion of the meeting it was only proper that a vote of thanks should be given to their benefactor for his kindness. This was done and was followed by three cheers that made Mr. Garrity’s ears ring, and a smile of sympathy for these boyish hearts linger on his lips.