PERILOUS SPYING

At Dick’s suggestion the boys cut a number of larger logs than usual and placed them on their camp fire that evening before setting out on their expedition.

“It will avert suspicion of what we are at,” Dick said in explanation of his proposal. “So long as the camp fire burns up brightly nobody seeing it from a distance will doubt that we are here. It isn’t much trouble, anyhow.”

The night proved to be an unusually dark one, with an overcast sky, threatening rain, and on the chance of that Cal rigged up the largest tarpaulin the company owned and so arranged it as to conduct all the water that might fall upon it into the bait pail and such other receptacles as would hold it. “If it rains hard,” he explained, “we’ll catch enough water before morning to fill both the kegs.”

Going to the big gum tree, Tom climbed to the top of it to see if he could discover anything the little company might want to know. After a careful scrutiny of the landscape to the west he came down again, reporting that everything was quiet “in the region of our late visitor’s country seat.”

Then the party set out on their exploring expedition. Tom, acting as guide, followed the little blind trail, while the rest made their way through the undergrowth on either side, keeping near enough to the trail to hear even a whispered warning or direction if Tom should have need to give any such.

Slowly, carefully, and in profound silence, they made their way to the point from which Tom had watched the place during the day. Then, as had been arranged in advance, the four stretched out their little line, so as to see the place from different points of view.

At first there was not much to see, and on so dark a night even that little could be seen only indistinctly and with difficulty. The “man with the game leg,” as the boys called him, was moving about the place in a leisurely fashion, but what he was doing none of the investigating party could make out in the darkness, though they had crept very close to the camp and were watching intently.

At last their watching and waiting were rewarded by a happening which interested them, though they did not understand it. The man with the game leg went into the hovel Tom had seen, and after remaining there for a considerable time, came out again. As he did so the boys were easily able to make out that he carried a dark lantern in his hand. It was carefully closed, but there were little leaks of light from its fastenings, as there always are from such contrivances when they are of the common, cheap variety as this one obviously was.

Carrying it in his hand and still closed, the man limped off down the trail that led toward the cove.

No sooner had he got well clear of the camp than the four watchers began scrambling up the trees nearest to them for the sake of a better view. There was nobody to hear them, but under the impulse of that caution which their presence in such a place required of them, they were careful to climb as silently as possible.

Very dimly, but with certainty, they could see the glow of the closed dark lantern and in that way trace the man carrying it throughout his brief journey.

When at last he reached the mouth of the cove where the view opened out toward the broad inlet, he opened his lamp for a brief second, holding it so that its gleam should show down the inlet to his right. A moment later he flashed it again, this time straight across the broad inlet. Presently he opened it for the third time, sending the flash up the inlet.

The whole proceeding did not occupy half a minute, and after that all remained in darkness except that the boys could still locate the dark lantern by the dim halo of light that surrounded it.

For half an hour or more there were no further developments. The man with the game leg seemed to be sitting still, waiting for time to pass or for something to happen. At last he opened the lamp again, sending its flash down the inlet as before. Then he showed his gleam straight out upon the water.

This time the boys in the tree tops saw a brief answering gleam from the open water half a mile or more from shore.

It was safe for the boys to speak now, and Tom thought it best for all of them to come down out of the trees before the man with the game leg, who had started slowly back toward the camp, should reach their neighborhood.

“Come down off your roosts, fellows,” he directed, “and secrete yourselves well in the bushes. The ‘others’ are coming to-night, sure enough. Be careful to hide yourselves so that a flash from that dark lantern won’t search you out. By the way, after they come and we see all we can, we must get out of here. I can’t speak then, but notice when you see me moving away, and follow my example. Now, no more talking, even in a whisper.”

The man with the game leg did not return immediately, as Tom had expected. Instead, he made his way up the bank of the cove and around its bend, to a point only two or three hundred yards away. Obviously that was to be the landing place, hidden as it was by the bend and the dense forest growth from all possible observation on the part of boats in the sound outside. The man with the game leg had gone to the mouth of the cove only to send his signals to his companions outside. Now that they had been seen and answered, he had gone to the landing-place, there to await their coming.

Fortunately for the purposes of the boys, the landing was in full view from their hiding place, and after the man with the game leg had gone thither they had only that one point to watch while they waited.

The wait was a long one, and perhaps it seemed longer because a drizzling rain had set in, soaking them to the skin. After a long time, however, the man with the game leg turned his dark lantern and flashed it once down the cove.

By its light the watchers made out three large boats slowly moving up the cove, apparently with carefully muffled oars, as their strokes could not be heard even at the short distance that now separated them from their destination. As they approached the landing with obvious care, there were frequent flashes from the dark lanterns that all of them seemed to be carrying, and by these flashes Tom and his companions saw that the boats were piled high with freight of some kind, so bestowed as to occupy every inch of space except what was necessary for the use of the men at the oars. Of these there were only two in each boat, each plying a single oar, while a third, perched upon a freight pile at the stern, was steering. Thus there were nine men in the three boats, who, with the man on shore, constituted a rather formidable company for four boys to face if they should decide to attack the Hunkydory’s camp, as the man with the game leg had threatened.

Whence the boats had come, Tom could not in any wise guess, and of course he could not discuss the matter with his comrades while hiding there in the bushes under a life-and-death necessity of keeping perfectly silent. Two things he was sure of: the boats could not have come very far, with only two oarsmen to each of them, and they could not have traversed any but smooth waters, with their freight piled high above their gunwales, as it was.

As soon as the boats were landed, the men began unloading them and carrying their freight to the camp, which was evidently to be its hiding place for a time at least. In the main it seemed to consist of light boxes or packages, many of them bound together into single large bundles which one man could carry. There were also some kegs, which seemed pretty heavy, as the men carried them on their shoulders. But it was difficult to make out anything more definite than this, as the darkness was dispelled infrequently by flashes from a dark lantern, and then only for a fraction of a second at a time.

When the greater part of the freight had been brought to the camp the man who seemed to be in authority over the rest set some of them to work bestowing it in the hovels, of which there appeared to be several, each securely hidden in the thick undergrowth so that a person casually passing that way would never have suspected their existence. Even while this work was in progress the man in charge permitted as little show of light as possible. When all was done a hamper of provisions was brought from one of the boats, together with a demijohn, and the whole crew assembled around the midnight spread, eating and drinking in the dark, except when now and then it became necessary to permit a little show of light for a moment.

At first they feasted in silence, too, but after awhile the liquor they were drinking seemed to go to their heads and they quarreled among themselves a good deal. Some of them wandered about now and then as if searching the bushes jealously.

It was clearly time for the boys to leave the place and they watched and listened for Tom’s beginning of the retreat. At last they heard him moving and, assuming that he had begun the withdrawal, they all cautiously crept away to the rear. As each was following a separate trail there was no word spoken among them until Larry, Dick and Cal came out of the bushes and joined each other at the gum tree.

“But where is Tom?” one of them asked.

Nobody knew. Nobody had seen or known anything about him since his first stirring of the bushes had set the retreat in motion. They had all heard a commotion in what they called “the scoundrels’ camp,” with sounds as of angry quarreling and fighting; but they had heard nothing of Tom.

The boys were in consternation.

“Do you suppose those scoundrels can have caught him?” asked Dick, with horror in his tones.

“I don’t know,” Larry answered through his set teeth. “But there’s only one thing to do.”

“Only one thing,” answered Dick. “We must go to his assistance, and if they have him prisoner we must rescue him or all die trying. I for one will never come back alive unless we bring him with us.”

“That’s of course,” said Cal, who for once spoke crisply, wasting no words. “Wait a second, Larry! How many cartridges have you—each of you?”

When they answered, Cal said:

“Here, take six more apiece. You may need ’em.”

As he spoke he took the extra cartridges from his pockets and hurriedly distributed them. It was Cal’s rule in hunting never to be without abundant ammunition.

“Now then, Larry,” he said, when the others had pocketed the cartridges, “give your orders; you’re the captain.”

“All right! Come on at a run, but don’t trip and fall. There’s no time to lose.”

Down the trail they went, not at a run, for running was impossible in such a tangle of vines and bushes, but at as fast a trot as they could manage. Suddenly there was a collision. Larry had met Tom “head on,” as he afterwards said. Tom was making his way as fast as he could to the gum tree, knowing that his friends would be in terror when they missed him, while they were hurrying to his rescue. In the darkness and the heavy downpour of rain he and Larry had failed to see or hear each other till they came into actual collision.

“Where on earth have you been, Tom?”

“Why did you fellows retreat before the time?”

These were questions instantly exchanged.

“Why, you gave the signal, Tom. You began moving off and we followed as agreed.”

“I understand now,” Tom answered, resuming the journey, “but it was a mistake of signal. Come on out of here. Let’s go to camp and talk it all over there. I’ve found out all about this thing and it’s interesting.”

“What does it mean? Tell us!”

“Not here in the downpour. We’ll go to camp first and get under the shelter and put on some dry clothes. My teeth are chattering and I don’t care to imitate them. Come on!”